2001 “A Holiday Note from Rob Taub”
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Dear Everyone,
Merry Christmas, Happy Chanukah, Beautiful Boxing Day along with a warm acknowledgment to all of the other Holidays, religions and belief systems that exist on this planet, in this Universe, in other Universes and in all of the many different cosmic places we don’t even know about yet!
Speaking of otherworldly, futuristic experiences, the days, weeks and months zoomed by so fast this year it seems like the entire planet went through some kind of time warp! My situation may have something to do with the new personal-growth program I’ve been practicing: Self Esteem While You Sleepä (developed by Dr. Ishmael Kapoor-Weinstein, Jr.) It’s an easy-to-follow regimen based on a simple natural herbal concoction: Consume four Excedrin P.M.’s along with a large (approximately the size of a milkshake) vodka martini on a Sunday between 6:57 & 7:09 p.m. Then immediately climb into bed and sleep straight through to 7:00 p.m. on Thursday. The results are immediate! After my first session, not only was I incredibly well rested, but I also lost 14 pounds without any effort and also avoided the most boring part of the week!
I know everyone is clamoring to hear about what a great summer we had! I finally introduced my wife and kids to my relatives from Brooklyn. We attended my cousin Stevie’s July 4th barbecue, which Sarah and Andrew mistakenly assumed was the set of one of those low budget independent films where an extremely annoying ethnic family does nothing except eat a lot and scream at each other.
I was happy because nobody was arrested or sent to the hospital, like last summer, when my Uncle Manny had one of his Pearl Harbor flashbacks and accidentally shot his wife, my Aunt Yetta. It was really the fault of their neighbor, Mrs. Blaustein, who is 87 years old and — because of acute senility — believes she is still living in the year 1955. Mrs. Blaustein was about to take her afternoon nap when the smell of barbecued hot dogs convinced her there was a Dodger’s game in progress at Ebbet’s Field. She immediately jumped out of bed, and still wearing her red silk nightgown, burst into Stevie’s yard screaming repeatedly, “Murder the Yankees!” Although my Uncle Manny is a highly decorated World War II veteran, he also has cataracts in both eyes so it was no surprise when he mistook Mrs. Blaustein’s red nightgown for a Japanese Kimono. Uncle Manny also suffers from a mild case of Parkinson’s disease, so there was a great deal of panic when he grabbed Stevie’s .38 caliber police special, pointed it at Mrs. Blaustein and screamed: “Watch me put a bullet through your heart, Tokyo Rose!” Instead, he succeeded in shooting Aunt Yetta, who was sleeping in a hammock on the other side of the yard. Fortunately, the bullet struck her foot, and as luck would have it, she was wearing a new pair of steel shank motorcycle boots — a present from her daughter Mindy, a wildly successful high-fashion model and respected Lesbian activist. Slowed by the steel plating, the bullet merely grazed Aunt Yetta’s pinky toe and resulted in the removal of a bothersome bunion.
As for my marriage, a friend described it as a cross between an Italian Opera and Public Access Cable Programming. I consider that a compliment, because I went to the Opera once, and before I fell asleep I noticed that the audience was composed of the type of well-dressed, sophisticated, powerful people that Dominick Dunne always writes about. Because of our hectic schedules my wife and I seldom see one another, so we recently decided to “really talk about things” on those rare occasions when our paths cross. I think it’s working, because last week Yolanda spoke to me for the first time in three months. She said, “Hey Jimmy, looks like you lost some weight!” While this may sound disappointing on the surface, I must add that it was well past midnight and she was racing across 72nd Street in one of those limousines with heavily tinted windows.
I know you all want to hear about my wonderful, gifted, really, perfect children. What can I say — they’re just great! Sarah is nine years old and in the fourth grade at the very prestigious Nightingale-Bamford School. She is idolized by her classmates, worshiped by the faculty and is already besieged with scholarship offers from all of the top Ivy League schools. Her main hobby is reading lots of books — some of her favorites include Dostoevski, Jackie Collins and The Koran — just to name a few. She also excels as a member of the chess club, plays on the soccer team and we expect her qualify as an alternate on the Olympic croquet team.
Amazingly, Sarah still finds the time — not to mention the energy — to regularly participate in a wide range of international symposiums with other well-known scholars, famous scientists and extremely rich Hollywood movie stars who enjoy mingling with bona fide smart people. In fact, Sarah recently presented a thesis paper at Oxford on the Supercollider and it went extraordinarily well, aside from the one embarrassing moment when she demanded that Dr. Steven Hawking “speed it up” when he attempted to compliment her.
My son Andrew has decided that he need not go further than third grade at the highly revered St. Bernard’s school and we agree! He makes a substantial income by shaking down children from a few enormously wealthy families, and then parlays those funds via his uncanny ability to handicap racehorses. Recently, Andrew hit a long shot on a Trifecta at the Meadowlands and treated the family to a weekend in Las Vegas! We stayed in the Vice-Presidential Suite at the Mirage Hotel and not only did we see Ziegfreid & Roy, but we dined at exact replicas of famous overpriced restaurants from New York City. On top of that, the entire trip was comped! Andrew wants to make this a monthly ritual, and I promised we would come back as often as he wants — as soon as he becomes an expert card counter.
It is no secret that I have always been highly critical of Kathy Lee Gifford. A few years ago I proposed creating a special Kathie Lee anthology for the purpose of rehabilitating and/or torturing serial killers, PETA activists as well as self-important celebrities like Susan Sarandon and Alec Baldwin.
However, after the events of September 11th 2001, I was concerned it might appear rather thoughtless to continue ranting and raving about Kathie Lee, so I asked my Aunt Yetta for advice. She told me that no matter how bad things get, we must never lose perspective. “There are many terrible people in the world,” said Aunt Yetta. “But that doesn’t make Kathie Lee Gifford any less of an idiot.”
So, until next year… Warm Regards, All The Best etc.
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