Carol went to a meeting last night held by, for and about the ladies who attended. This was at the beginning of the new month both in Hebrew and in modern terms.  It is for the ladies because they are unarguably associated with the tides and changes of the moon. This was not only a celebration about time but also about arcane rites of sisterhood.

I asked, since a dinner was involved, if I could attend. My offer was declined with that special kind of superciliousness which plainly says – “Silly – you can’t come to OUR meeting because, well because you are a man and this is for ladies only. Well, they can have their secret meeting where boys are not allowed but I had to fend for myself by finding something to eat, preparing it and eating it in solitude.

I don’t really feel sorry for myself, but upon reflection I discovered that I haven’t had a night out with the “boys” by myself for our entire almost a quarter of a century together.  Sure, I had society meetings or fraternity (a loose term that merely means folks of all sexes) gathering but I cannot remember a single evening where I chose to leave my spouse at home while I was out gallivanting. This is not to say I didn’t want to go out with the guys - it is that I don’t have any guys with whom I could go out to do “guy” things with. And, come to think of it, I don’t really do “guy things”. My interests are involved in the kind of things others are not interested in; these are reading, puppetry, ham radio and painting portraits and writing these essays – mostly solitary pastimes.

After all, who besides me is interested in playing with dolls?  All of my old friends up north who were interested in playing with dolls (puppets) were my students who were mostly women, anyway.  Norman, the Genius, died on me and anyway, he dropped puppets to take on a love affair with the computer and did some marvelous things with it – all by himself.  I need lots of help but do not know how to ask for it so I languish all alone at home looking at the machine and hoping it will heal itself.

But, this ladies’ thing, the meeting at the first of each month or “Rosh Hodesh” as it is called, is a great idea.  It is about sisterhood and solidarity and a celebration of owning organs that set them apart from the male of the species.  I understand that they eat a dinner and then do poems, hear stories or tell stories and sometimes play games to foster a spirit of closeness and superiority because of their special quality.  I applaud this and wish there was some kind of male bonding other than the kind specializing in bars and stripper joints. I don’t do those things either.