My Final Hipster Post?

As my art-lings already know from previous posts, my mother’s broken hip and its aftermath have been keeping me from my appointed blogging rounds. We have much to catch up on together in the coming days and weeks.
Before I try to get back to what this blog is about (what was that again?), let me try to wrap up the healthcare updates by observing, “It’s Hip to Be Home.” (Don’t worry: I won’t turn this into another Singing Podcast!)
My faithful readers know that I have been comparing my epic medical journey to Dante‘s “Divine Comedy”: We got through Hospital Hell and Nursing Home Purgatory, and although I never came across anyone named Beatrice, I knew I was on my way to Paradise when I drove to the rehab joint on the morning of what I was hoping would be my last day visiting (non-cultural) institutions. I turned on my car radio to listen to classical music on WQXR (my main cultural solace during this fractured period) and, to my amazement, found myself listening to Borodin‘s “Polovtsian Dances.” Music buffs know that this includes the catchy melody that became a popular song from the 1953 musical “Kismet”: “Stranger in Paradise.”
Paradise, in this case, is an apartment in Riverdale (the northwest Bronx), where my mother has now rejoined my father. And it has certainly become stranger in this paradise…equipped as it is with two walkers, two wheelchairs and a supporting cast of homecare aides and physical therapists.
The only good thing I can say about this experience is that spending most of my last two weeks within the confines of a hospital and then (for Mom’s rehab) a nursing home was an easy way for me to lose all four pounds that I have been hoping to shed, without the inconvenience of doing any exercise whatsoever. (I do not recommend this weight-reduction technique.)
I’m still going to be distracted by parental needs this week, so don’t expect me to be posting at full strength quite yet. Of course, most of you are going to be likewise (or hopefully not so likewise) engaged by your families and friends until 2008, so you’ll hardly miss me.
Here’s hoping for a peaceful holiday season, a Feisty New Year and (giving the last word to Dante’s last words): “The love that moves the sun and the other stars.”