Divorce American Style

When you’re a divorced boomer, you go out a lot. As a columnist, I’m invited to fundraisers for whales, parking lots, Indian restaurants, you name it. Tonight, I’m at a fundraiser for the foreign film press. In a loft style building, and hottie gay waiters wearing nose rings and attitudes pass chilled martinis and puffy canapés. Latin music is blaring. I’m decked in my Joan Crawford style, five-inch platform shoes, black net stockings, and my off-the-shoulder top. A small black hat with a tiny veil sits on top of my shoulder length gold streaked hair. I make hats. Sometimes I make hats from cardboard boxes, paint the boxes and put veils on top.

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