Rock of Ages…

Today is my wedding anniversary.

If I say the number of years out loud we sound like old married folk. We don’t feel it and don’t look it (so we are told by many, including our lovely and extremely judgmental offspring).

David and I are more in sync and in love today than when we married. Except for the usual bumps in the road, it has been a fabulous run…analogous to “Rock of Ages”, every once in a while you have to change things up, but the soundtrack remains classic and easy to dance to.

Today we are hanging by the pool in Palm Springs…a quick getaway since we just returned from a truly outrageous trip to South Africa and London.

This is a far cry from my rock ‘n roll days when hangin’ out at a hotel pool was all about recovery from celebrating another successful show and active participation in the after party.

Pool time consisted of watching the side show, starring a bunch of famous skinny white guys easily picking up nubile groupies. Beyond being their ace publicist, my self-imposed role was to be the prophylactic between the rockers and the threat of statutory rape.

You would not believe the number of young girls who stole their mother’s engagement rings to finance their rock ‘n roll wet dream.

Today, I can relax and just make sure that I am not in direct sunlight (me and the vampires have to avoid that flaming orb to stay youthful) and not consume more than a single cocktail because I have to drive responsibly.

Palm Springs is very hot so I have a free pass to perspire all day and blame it on the desert heat.

The last time I was in Palm Springs I shared a hot tub with all of the Rolling Stones and now it is just David …I refer my manly rock star of a husband.

Physical attraction to my rockers was not an issue. I never ever mixed business with pleasure, and simply could not imagine dating or comingling with a man that I could pick up to kiss goodnight.

There were a few of my wards who were manly men in rock n roll…Huey Lewis, Ian Hunter, Billy idol, Tony Hadley, the lead singer in Spandau Ballet, but they were few and far between…anyway, a professional woman in the music industry must only look and make the rocker a major star, but never touch!

Happy Anniversary, David, if I can’t have Springsteen than I want your ‘Slow Hand’!

Memorable Martini…Vodka or Gin

1 1/2 oz. vodka (Chopin is my poison of preference)
A “Whisper” of dry vermouth ( Noel Coward suggested that the ideal martini should be made by filling a glass with vodka or gin then waving it in the general direction of Italy)…vermouth is an Italian export.

Vigorously shake vodka and vermouth together with a multitude of ice cubes in a shaker. Strain into a cocktail glass, garnish with an olive (stuffed blue cheese olives are the best) and serve.

Lately, I have been chillin’ with a martini on the rocks so my James Bond beverage stays extra, extra cold.

I will offer this fact so that you self-educate as you self-medicate: Martini is an American invention from the late 19th century.

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