The Real Hamptons

July 31st, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor

Whenever my coworkers ask what I’ve done for the weekend, I won’t mention that I’ve been to the Hamptons. They’d respond with an “Oh…! Well, aren’t you all that” kind of attitude which I’d rather not deal with. I have friends that live there and believe me, they’re not all rich and certainly not famous, except in my eyes. If you really want to see the Hamptons for what they are, you have to look past all the glitz and glamour. At the local Chicken BBQ in East Hampton you’re very likely to run into some celebrities but so what? They have to eat too. And who wants to see Alec Baldwin play baseball with Eli Wallach? They’re not that good. They’re just locals playing for charity proceeds. People – same as you and me, only…different. What sets them apart from the rest of us is obviously the difference in lifestyle but remember, they weren’t all born into aristocracy. Alec Baldwin was raised in Massapequa, NY – a hop, skip and a jump from where we live. In fact, we almost bought a house in his old neighborhood of Nassau Shores. A neighbor of mine grew up on the same street as the Baldwins; the brothers three who were the neighborhood bullies with Alec as the ringleader. I find this rather amusing – bullied his way right into Hollywood. Nice job.

But celebrity dulls in comparison to the real star – the gorgeous sparkling indigo ocean, the white sands and pristine beaches. Voted one of the top ten beaches in the U.S. was none other than Main Beach of East Hampton. Long before glamorous women in straw hats graced its shoreline, East Hampton was home to several tribes of Indians. In the late 17th century, Chief Wyandanch sold it to English colonist Lion Gardiner for “a large black dog, some powder and shot, and a few Dutch blankets”. Lots of things happened in between, the glory (or is it gory) of the Whaling days and stories of Captain Kidd along with many other historical events. But it wasn’t until Jackson Pollock made it his home along with Lee Krasner that it began to assume prestige in becoming a distinctive artists colony. Artists constantly commented on “the light” found there unlike anywhere else. You know how important lighting can be to artists if you’ve ever dabbled in paints. But here again, the real masterpiece is the actual scenery the artist has attempted to re-create.

To experience this majesty for yourself, my recommendation would be for you to bypass the Hamptons altogether and drive straight through to Montauk Point. The drive itself is lovely and you have no choice but to take in all the sights because of the overwhelming traffic from the time you enter Southhampton until you get to East Hampton. If you’re like my husband you’ll want to bring a good book although personally I love people – watching and taking in the boutique lined streets. If you must stop, be prepared to spend an exorbitant sum. There are many excellent restaurants and wineries from which to choose as well but if you stop you’ll never make it to the crowning jewel unless you make a weekend out of the trip.

You simply cannot get lost trying to find the Montauk Lighthouse. Just keep driving until you fall off the island. In truth, once you get there, the road continues to take you back the way you came if you’re not prepared to spend the $8.00 fee just to park your car so you’re left with little choice. If you wait until after 4 pm parking is free and the scenery really hasn’t changed much from before. It is however, gorgeous. Watch the boats and listen to a weak voiced rendition of “Sailing” by a local jazz keyboardist. He isn’t there to compete with the breathtaking view but simply provides very pleasant backdrop music. I found his flat notes very endearing.

So, for a lovely afternoon spent with a loved one, head out to Montauk Point and reminisce on the Memory Motel, a part of Andy Warhol’s estate made famous by the Rolling Stones. If you’re hungry, eat at Gosman’s Dock or for an even more casual dining experience, stop at LUNCH for a bite to eat for some of the freshest seafood you’ll find anywhere before dealing with the traffic – again. And be sure to stop for the sweetest corn at one of the farm stands. It’s a real taste of the Hamptons.

So………….. whadayathink? Which would you rather watch – some celebrity dribble BBQ sauce down his chin or the beautiful, beautiful sea? Hmmm…… I might want to get a gander at the sloppy chin and take a look at the sea later. You can do both when you’re in the Hamptons.


The Upstairs Window

July 29th, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor

The curtains hung in shreds.

The once beautiful yards of lace

A delicate balance

Of still life and motion.

Stirred by summer’s hand.

Stilled by winter’s chill.

Where sunlight paused

To consider a dance

With an empty veil.

Who shut the window

For the last time

Letting dust gather at the sill,

Never turning to look back ?


Elizabethan Expletives for Language Aficionados

July 26th, 2011 by Michael Tabor
As I have mentioned before in one of my earlier blogs, Whadawethink is branching out and adding another site on grammar. The domain name is and it will be up and running in another two months or so. I have just completed writing the eight parts of speech section (I haven’t published it yet) so we are almost there. Grammar could be quite dull at times but as we all know, it is essential in terms of becoming better readers and writers. Furthermore, we will try to make grammar fun and interesting by including the many curiosities of the English language. Here is just a tiny sample of what you will see along with the nuts bolts of grammar.  I think that we can all agree that interjections (very often are expletives) are the easiest, most enjoyable and quite frankly the zaniest part of speech. Here are some Elizabethan curse words or phrases:
Thou gleeking, flap-mouthed foot-licker!

Thou beslubbering, beef-witted baggage!

Thou quailing, motley-minded measley !

Thou cockered, clapper-clawed bugbear !

You beetle-headed, flap-eared knave!

What balderdash and poppycock !

You pribbling, ill-nurtured maggot-pie!

Are you shocked and insulted? – lol

Written by Susan Monaco – Guest Blogger

July 25th, 2011 by Michael Tabor

Healthcare Reform; yes, it’s needed, but it must be instituted from the ground up. If the foundation is not secure, the structure will be faulty and collapse, and that is exactly what has happened to the U.S. healthcare institution. What needs to be done? Many things need to be addressed, both for the safety of patients as well as the size of the medical tab that we must all pay. The first thing I propose is the most basic……….addressing the cause of medical malpractice. Sad to say, my family was taken from me, as a result of two documented cases of medical malpractice. The legislation that I propose is something that I always believed should be in effect, unfortunately, it wasn’t until my family was destroyed, that I decided to take action.


The legislation, regards a common sense approach to the way we license physicians in this country. Currently, a physician is licensed in the state or states that he or she intends to practice. If the physician is forced to voluntarily surrender his license or loses it in one state; absolutely nothing prevents him from practicing in another state. In fact, this is an all too common scenario. The fact is, this is the very thing that is documented to have happened to a number of people in Baltimore, Maryland; when the neurosurgeon who butchered my sister, was forced to leave Florida. He was forced to “voluntarily” surrender his license or risk facing humiliation by having it revoked. He left Florida, but proceeded to practice in Baltimore, where he operated on a woman and removed the wrong disk in her neck.


This is not an isolated incident. It happens in New York and New Jersey quite frequently. A physician, who loses his license in New York, easily jumps the river and with a new license, continues to maim and destroy lives.


The question that should immediately jump into everyone’s head is – “If a physician is unfit to practice in one state, isn’t he just as unfit to practice in another state?”

The answer is nation-wide licensing of physicians. It can be done on a federal level or it may be administered by the state, but all states must cooperate. If a physician loses his license, either by way of revocation, suspension or voluntary surrender, he or she is barred from obtaining a new license or utilizing an already existing license in another state. If a physician is unfit to practice in one state, he or she is unfit to practice in every state; common sense dictates this, now the law must be amended to follow suit.


Physicians and authorities may argue that this is not necessary, yet clearly something must be done. The medical community will undoubtedly say such licensing is not possible because of the varied “standard of care” across the country. The truth is, that years ago that was the truth, but in these times it’s routine, for physicians to attend medical school in one state, do their various internships and residencies in other states and ultimately begin their own practice in yet another state. If the “standard of care” was still an issue, as it was back in the days of Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, then physicians would be required to study and practice in one state and remain there for the entire length of their professional lives.


There are a number of other things that can be implemented or changed to improve the quality of health care in this country, but I firmly believe that nation-wide licensing is the foundation for all the other changes. We can have all the other changes implemented, but if a doctor is incompetent, and therefore dangerous, and still has the luxury of closing shop in one state and resuming his trade in another, then the changes are virtually worthless.


Allowing the medical community to monitor and police themselves is a joke. They have their white coat of silence. Seldom will a doctor speak out against another doctor; and even more rarely, will one testify against another one. Please help prevent more victims. Please support legislation that is aimed at the very root of the problem. It’s not a cure-all, but it’s certainly a step in the right direction. It would create a sound foundation upon which other changes can ultimately be implemented


Twenty Seven

July 24th, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor
Amy, close the door.
I can hear the angels singing.
They know the words to all your songs.
Don’t let them take you
To where you would not go.
Amy, shut the window.
Don’t let in the rain.

One, two, three
At twenty seven.
Janis, Jim, and Jimi.
One times two
At twenty seven.
Kurt, hold hands with Amy.


I Would Rather Die Than Go to Rehab

July 23rd, 2011 by Michael Tabor
Poor Amy Winehouse wasn’t kidding when she sang out the lyrics “I don’t want to go to rehab….”. I knew her inevitable death would happen and happen soon if, she, Amy Winehouse did not get the help she so desperately needed.  She was only 27 years old and she looked like she was 77 (I am not exaggerating one bit as I sadly write this – go ahead and google images of her over the past month or so and you will see the result of a woman poisoning herself to an early death.)
I liked her. I liked her music, I thought the critically acclaimed, and commercially successful hit song “Rehab” was as good as it gets – original and catchy. However, sadly the song was for Amy – too close to home.
Everyone knew Amy was in trouble over the past few months (she was falling down and forgetting lyrics to songs) and her people even cancelled the rest of the tour dates in a fierce attempt to save her life by concentrating on nothing but getting Amy sober. I am no stranger to addiction and getting sober is perhaps one of the most difficult struggles a person will ever face. However, an addict or alcoholic is lucky to have a choice about whether or not to drink (regardless of how difficult it is) a person with terminal cancer does not have this luxury of choice.
Unless a person is an alcoholic or drug addict himself/herself, it is impossible to understand, empathize, or even fathom how agonizing getting sober is. Even though Amy Winehouse had a choice, she was unable to stop just like so many others in her position. So sad.
R.I.P. – Amy Winehouse.

Losing Weight – A Piece of Cake?

July 22nd, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor

I have always been able to eat anything I want, never had the slightest concept on how to diet, and have never had to exercise. As a teenager I was always self-conscious about my stick figure – people would constantly comment “You’re SOOOOOO SKINNY!” or worse, “Did you lose weight?” These were not meant to be compliments. I made desperate attempts to gain a few much-needed pounds. I ate whole boxes of cookies, huge portions of ice cream, along with my usual three solid meals a day – nothing worked. Poor little me. Throughout my life I have had the pleasure of eating this way although somewhat more moderately having given up the notion of weight gain.
Then one day Father Time touched my brow and said “Enough of this, Stick Girl. Pay Up”. Not that I’m fat now by any S-T-R-E-T-C-H of the imagination but let’s just say that my skinny jeans could use some slenderizing.  Clothes that used to fit, don’t. Could they have shrunk? But why only in certain places? Are they making new garments a size or two smaller than they used to ? Please say yes. Feel free to interject any positive feedback here. Now is the right time. Could it be that cute little saying you find on magnets and posters is actually a whammy someone finally slammed me with ? You know the one…… “Please, God. If you can’t make me skinny, make my friends fat”. Ever notice that most clothes you buy these days have stretch in them ? I somehow tend to think this gives us an excuse to eat more. If the clothing were more constrictive, we’d eat less. As it is, we feel quite comfortable having that extra piece of cake at the family BBQ along with the baby back ribs and extra helping of potato salad. And why do they call it “helping”? IT’S NOT HELPING! Rather it should be “Would you like another hindrance ?” to which you aptly reply, “No thank you. I’ve had enough”.
I’m tired of sucking in the belly. It used to work but now I can’t seem to hold my breath that long. I once was able to and would have been a good candidate for deep sea diving but no more. I even tried one of those under garments. You know – the kind that look like sausage skins. You pick one out that’s the size you imagine yourself to be and then you stuff your blubber into it. At first, it feels okay and you look stupendous but after a couple of hours, (once you’ve left the house and there’s no turning back) it feels like a vise or a medieval iron maiden. You can’t possibly remove it until you get home – if you do that slinky dress you’re wearing will look like all hell broke loose.  Instead, you smile obligingly all through the evening and no one has the slightest indication that you should be nominated for an Oscar for the performance of the century. Finally, and not a moment too soon, you arrive home breathless tearing the damn thing off at the front door to the utter astonishment (and extreme disappointment) of your husband, ignoring the look of stunned shock and disbelief on his face. “What? You actually thought I poured this dress on with no help from the Fairy Godmother?”
What we women endure for the sake of beauty. WHY do we torture ourselves? Who are we trying to impress? Why should I care if you’re offended by my over exuberant tendency to self-inflate? I’VE HAD IT ! No more sausage skins for me. This form of self-infliction is not new to the female sex. In Victorian times women wore corsets so tightly bound, they passed out. Thus, that very elegant piece of furniture known as “The Fainting Couch” was born. It was usually situated at the landing upon climbing the staircase for women would feel faint from the mere effort of this normal exercise. I imagine had I been born in that era, I would have spent considerable time utilizing that couch………….”Bring me my fan, Lilly dear”.
Interestingly, the corsets of wealthy women were laced at the back – a servant was required to tie them. Those who could not afford a servant had to tie their own, hence the front laced corset. The smallest waist on record measured just 13 jnches. Think of it – you could wear your pearl choker around your waist as a belt. Somehow that just seems freakishly tiny.
Once having abandoned various forms of restrictive clothing, how to go about losing the unwanted baggage? I’ve given up ice cream (not cake just yet – give it time). I walk the twenty minutes to the train station in the morning refusing the offer of neighbors for a ride, opt to climb the stairs rather than use the escalator, and spend less time glued to my chair at the office and more time bustling around looking ever so efficient. Still, the unsightly roll refuses to diminish in size. In fact, it appears to grow larger with each passing minute (oops ! Forgot to hold my breath).  I find myself checking the clock for lunchtime and each day it begins a few minutes earlier than the day before. Brunch anyone? Perhaps a philanthropic thrust towards a hunger strike for motivation. Not like the girl who wanted an invite to the Royal Wedding – she never generated enough sympathy and either shriveled down to nothing or gave up the idea altogether as the end result lost the attention of the media. I believe her intention was to kill two birds with one stone; get invited to the wedding AND get into that size 4 dress to boot.
I’ve decided to adopt a more Zen like approach. You know – mind over matter. But which is larger – the mind or the matter? Obviously, the matter has the upper hand (or the lower belly). How to get the mind around all that matter? I think if we shrink the mind and think less about the matter, then the matter will shrink as well. That’s it! JUST DON’T THINK ABOUT IT ! Or pink elephants.

So……………………….whadayathink ? Is weight gain something you grapple with? Should you have that chunk of chocolate cake with or without the ice cream?


Brain Waves

July 20th, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor
Give yourself up
To the Sea.
Empty your thoughts
On the sand.
Watch as the tide
Carries them out.
Give me your hand.

Walk the length
Of the beach.
Thinking of nothing
For once.
Feel what it is
To be you.
For me, there’s just this.

How about some Yogi Berra Wisdom

July 14th, 2011 by Michael Tabor
I am not going to do an Op-ed blog today per se, I’ll just string together a 
few of my favorite Yogism’s – move over Socrates, they aren’t pretty but dem are darn funny:
  • What time is it? You mean now?

  • It’s déjà vu all over again.

  • We made too many wrong mistakes.

  • Steve McQueen looks good in this movie. He must’ve made it before he died.

  • (my favorite) Always go to other people’s funerals, otherwise they won’t go to yours.

  • (Second Favorite) Nobody goes there, it’s too crowded.

  • 90% of the game is half mental.

  • If people don’t want to come to the ballpark, how are you going to stop them.

  • I love baseball. I’d play for nothing if they paid me.

  • You can’t hit and think at the same time. (Believe it or not this is sound logic. Practice, practice, practice until it becomes second nature and then don’t think, just do it.)

  • Why buy good luggage: you only use it when you travel.

And finally:
  • It ain’t over till it’s over.

You know what to do : hover over the widget, click onto it, and have fun shopping.

Vienna The Water Dog

July 13th, 2011 by Magdalena Tabor
She performs her Viennese Waltz
At breakneck speed,
Choosing chickens as partners.
They flap wildly
Cackling disapprovingly
Amongst themselves.
She’s long gone
But soon reappears
Dripping diamonds this time.
Coat as slick as sealskin
She emerges from
Her hidden bath,
Laughing with her tail.
She’ll perform this sequence
Several times before tiring,
The dance ending
With eyes shut tight.
Asleep with all four paws twitching
With the day’s events.