Fred Plotkin, a pleasure activist and passionate Italy and culinary expert, speaks each Friday with leading people in the arts FRED PLOTKIN is one of America’s foremost experts on opera and has distinguished himself in many fields as a writer, speaker, consultant and as a compelling teacher. He is an expert on everything Italian, the person other so-called Italy experts turn to for definitive information.  Fred discovered the concept of "The Renaissance Man" as a small child and has devoted himself to pursuing that ideal as the central role of his life. In a “Public Lives” profile in The New York Times on August 30, 2002, Plotkin was described as "one of those New York word-of-mouth legends, known by the cognoscenti for his renaissance mastery of two seemingly separate disciplines: music and the food of Italy." In the same publication, on May 11, 2006, it was written that "Fred is a New Yorker, but has the soul of an Italian."

By Emmy Serviss / Boston I swear, I didn’t INTEND to adopt two new kittens in 2023. When Theo passed away in December 2022, I was heartbroken. It took a while to get to a point where I could look at his pictures without getting teary-eyed. The first time I sat down on the kitchen floor with treats and only three cats sat down in front of me, it broke my heart all over again. I assumed I’d get a new cat at some point, but I wasn’t actively looking. A friend of mine fosters cats for a local shelter in New Jersey, and that was how I had found Annabelle and August back in 2021. Another friend of mine, Lauren, runs her own animal rescue in Virginia, called Tiny Paws RVA. For years she posted pictures of her fosters and I would joke that one of these days I’d drive down to Richmond and adopt some of her cats. It was always a joke, until one day it wasn’t. Back in May, Lauren posted about how she was going to be visiting Boston in June, and that she was planning on bringing kittens with her to be adopted. Basically, it was like Grubhub, but for cats. CatCab, if you will. I sent Lauren a message and asked which kittens she was bringing with her. She was not surprised to get my message. Lauren gave me the rundown of which kittens were coming to Boston and shared their pictures. Among the kittens were “The Breakfast Bunch,” and when I saw French Toast’s picture, my heart melted. She was a tiny little black cat with ears too big for her head and sweet, bright eyes. I told Lauren I would take some time and think it over, but truthfully I already knew she was mine. I didn’t expect to be adopting a new kitten so soon after Theo, but when I saw her little face, it was a done deal. While I had adopted kittens before and while I had had four cats before, I had actually never adopted just ONE  kitten before. For some reason, that made me more nervous than anything else. But nonetheless, I was very excited to meet my new girl, whom I had decided would be renamed Olivia. Things took an interesting turn when I was chatting with Lauren about the kittens and her upcoming trip, and she mentioned how Waffles, the remaining kitten from “The Breakfast Bunch” was still waiting to be adopted. So, in my head, once Olivia came up to Boston, Waffles would be all alone. I looked at her pictures again, and something wasn’t right. Even though I’d never had five cats before and even though I knew Waffles wouldn’t be ALONE alone after Olivia came to Boston and even though I knew it was crazy and impulsive…it still didn’t feel right. Something didn’t feel right. Leaving her behind didn’t feel right. So, I told Lauren to bring Waffles too. Suffice it say, the girls have already made themselves right at home I had told friends and family a new little void kitty (aka black cat) was arriving in June, but the last-minute addition was SO last minute that literally no one except Lauren and my boyfriend knew that TWO kittens were heading to Boston. But kittens don’t stay a secret for very long, so within 24 hours of them being at home with me, I had taken almost a hundred photos and created two videos: “Meet Olivia” and “Meet Penelope.” Most people were excited, because…kittens! But I also got a lot of, “Wait, how many cats do you have now??” And believe me, I’m well aware that five cats is A LOT. But when you’ve had four cats, what’s one more? August (left), Annabelle (center) and Pippin (right) are still on the fence regarding the new additions It’s been a little over two weeks since Olivia and Penelope came home, and they’re settling in nicely! They’re still a little reluctant to play with their big brothers and sister, but that doesn’t stop them from joining us in a cuddle puddle when we go to bed at night. I often wake up in the morning with Pippin curled up to my side on the left, Livvie curled up in my arm to the right, and either Annabelle or August on my chest. It’s crowded, but cozy. It seems like the cut-off for an acceptable number of cats is four, so I guess I can’t really deny being a “crazy cat lady” anymore. But I’m okay with it. I’m leaning into it. Sure, there are challenges and allergy meds and a never-ending shipment of Chewy boxes coming to my door. But when I walk in my front door, I’m greeted by five little loving furballs. And I think that’s just purr-fect. Emmy Serviss is a Boston-based writer, actor and video editor. Once it is safe to return to live theater, you can find her performing with ComedySportz Boston and the sketch group SUZZY. When not on the stage, Emmy enjoys indulging in her new pandemic hobbies, laughing way too loudly and counting the days until Halloween.

The Insider: Congratulations on graduating! You must be excited about that. Sophie Leeds: Thank you and yes, very! I also recently started a job, so it’s been an exciting time. The Insider: Which city did you grow up in? Sophie Leeds: Trumbull, Conn. The Insider: When did you start college? Sophie Leeds: I started in August 2019 at Western Connecticut State University. The Insider: There was only a short time at school for you until the pandemic started. Do you remember when you first heard that it was coming? What did you think? Sophie Leeds: When I first heard about the pandemic, I was overwhelmed and uncertain of how or if it would affect me. At the beginning of the pandemic, there was a lot of information, and the news was constantly developing. It felt like there was a new story or important news coming out quicker than you could grasp it. My initial reaction was fear of the unknown. As we got more news about Covid and its implications, it got scarier. Once cases started popping up in the United States, and then in nearby states and towns, it all felt so real. My fall semester was normal, but I only had a few months of my spring semester before we were sent home in mid-March 2020. At first, the school’s plan was that we would come back in a few weeks. But my lacrosse season was canceled, and then shortly after we found out we would be moving home. The Insider: That must have been very disappointing! Sophie Leeds: Yes, it was very disappointing, I felt like I only had a normal college experience for a little bit until my senior year. The Insider: You were on sports teams? Sophie Leeds: I played field hockey and lacrosse in college. The Insider: That’s impressive! Was that part of the excitement of initially starting college? Sophie Leeds: Thanks! It was definitely a lot in terms of the time commitment. Going into school playing two sports added to the excitement of college. It made the transition from high school to college so much easier. Knowing 40-plus familiar faces of teammates who have experienced that change was reassuring and helpful. The Insider: Tell me a little more about how your sports activities were affected from March 2020 on by the pandemic. Sophie Leeds: There was a lot of talk surrounding sports being canceled from the very beginning of Covid. There were other collegiate teams that canceled their seasons before my school did. During the last game we played, I remember we weren’t allowed to high- five and say “good game” after the game to the other team. Not long after we had a team meeting where our coaches told us the season would be canceled and that we would go home for a few weeks with the plan of coming back without sports. At that point, we only had a few days to get everything we needed out of the dorms and move home for the time being. Many people took what they needed with the hopes of coming back. I on the other hand ended up packing up my entire dorm room. My mom was very informed about Covid and what was going on and she told me to take everything, because with the Covid number growing rapidly it was nearly impossible that we would be going back. It was crushing, only being at college for such a short time and knowing that even though the school was saying two weeks, that wouldn’t be the reality. The Insider: Yes, that must have been painful on so many levels. You were right at the beginning of college, making new friends and getting settled. You were also getting to know your new teammates. And then BOOM! This un-heard of thing just happens. Sophie Leeds: Yes, exactly! It was very unexpected and from the time we first heard of Covid to being sent home felt so quick that it was a lot to process. The Insider: So, did your whole college go remote at that point? Sophie Leeds: Yes, we were completely remote for the rest of the year. It was a huge adjustment for the students and professors. There was definitely a learning curve with the situation being unprecedented. Everyone did the best they could to make the transition as easy as possible, but it was tough at times to learn and interact with my classmates. The Insider: Were you able to stay in touch with any of your new college friends at that point? Sophie Leeds: Yes, I felt we all did a good job of staying connected. There were lots of group chats and video calls, which helped us all feel less isolated. Our coaches also facilitated calls and we would do fun competitions like create funny TikToks or videos and work out plans to compete in groups against each other. I remember playing a lot of games online and trying to make the best of the situation. At the time, no one really knew how long the world would be in lockdown, so it was best to take it a day at a time and try to stay as connected as possible while staying distanced and safe. The Insider: Were you living back at home with your parents at that point? What was that like? You had just made the big move away from home. Sophie Leeds: Yes, I lived with my parents, my brother and my dog! It was good living at home. Of course, I was bummed about having to leave school, but for the first few weeks it felt like a nice break from the stress associated with college. But after a few weeks. it felt like I was almost moving backwards, having lived away from home for the first time and faced new challenges associated with college. It felt like I was back in high school again. Looking back now over three years later it was a very strange time. The world was on pause yet the schoolwork kept going. I felt like the uncertainty of not knowing when things would go back to normal. Whether we would go back in the fall was one of the hardest parts of the transition home. The Insider: Was it possible for college students to find romantic involvements at that point, or did social life just come to a grinding halt? Sophie Leeds: It was really hard to meet people in general, so dating people wasn’t really something a lot of people did given the circumstances, unless they were in a relationship prior to Covid. When the world started to reach some normalcy and people started to go out more, social distancing added a necessary barrier which prevented that aspect. Most people were cautious of whom they were coming into contact with, I personally didn’t date anyone at the height of Covid and neither did anyone I knew. With safety being a big concern, that was definitely for the best. The Insider: I can understand that! As the pandemic went on, how did things begin to change on campus? How long was it before in-person classes resumed? Sports? Sophie Leeds: In fall 2020, there were some classes that were in person, but all of my classes were online. I chose to live at home because of this. The dorms were also opened in fall 2020. For the students who chose to dorm, there were strict social distancing policies and testing protocols. I joined my school’s chapter of the American Marketing Association in fall 2020. We would meet a few times a week as well, though only virtually, so that helped keep me busy and engaged also. My field hockey season was also canceled that fall. It was tough to have another season canceled due to Covid. Luckily, we were still able to practice a few times a week. I did not live too far from campus so I would commute for practice. Even though we play outside, we social distanced in pods, tested, and wore masks. And then in spring 2021, I moved back on campus. The Insider: What was your experience with Covid? Did you ever get it? Did your family or friends? Sophie Leeds: I had Covid once. I came into contact with someone who had Covid, so I got tested and I ended up testing positive. Luckily, I did not really have any symptoms. I was vaccinated and boosted at the time, so thanks to that I did not get very sick. This was around January 2022, during my winter break from college so I was living at home. I quarantined and was super careful, and no one in my family got it from me. My parents had Covid also after that point, and they both were pretty sick. The majority of my friends also had it either once or a few times. But my brother, who was boosted, never got it, I’m jealous of that! The Insider: Do things feel “normal” now on campus? Have all of these pandemic precautions fallen away? Sophie Leeds: Yes, I would say everything was pretty much back to normal this past year. It felt like my first normal full year at college, where there wasn’t social distancing, testing, or masks. Covid affected every other year of my college experience pretty heavily. It’s crazy to think about how different my experience would have been. It’s very hard to grasp that, though, because I don’t have a normal college experience to compare it to. It’s upsetting to think about how much it has impacted all of us, I’m happy that my final year was normal. The Insider: If you had to sum up what you think the impact of the pandemic was on the Class of ’23, what do you think it was? Sophie Leeds: It was challenging to have such a different college experience than we had envisioned. We learned to adapt to make the most of the experience, and succeed beyond what we thought was possible. The Insider: So, it built character, even though it was tough? Sophie Leeds: I would say so. it was a learning curve and we had to adjust as we went, because things were changing so quickly. I feel stronger because of it, which is a silver lining of a horrible situation. A negative side of it was our expectations seem lower, having time and experiences taken from us it changed our perspectives. The Insider: Last question: what’s next? Sophie Leeds: I accepted a position at Hasbro on the U.S. marketing team for Disney Action Brands. I am working on the brand side for Marvel, Star Wars and Indiana Jones. I am moving to Providence, R.I. and am super excited. It’s been great so far! The Insider: Wow! Congratulations! It has been so nice talking with you, Sophie. Thanks for your time, and all good luck! Sophie Leeds: Thanks!

By Jessie Seigel / Washington, D.C. Last Thursday, I made a long, one-day pilgrimage—D.C. to Manhattan and back—to see the revival of Lorraine Hansberry’s 1964 play, The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window. I felt compelled to make the trip because the film version of Hansberry’s award-winning first play, A Raisin in the Sun (the 1961 Sidney Portier/Ruby Dee version), was a formative experience in my life. I was 9 years old and the film contained my first lesson about racism. I was not taken to Raisin to be taught this lesson; we had no TV until I was 12 and, as a family, we went to the movies a lot. My parents never drew a line between movies for children and those for grownups. The part of Raisin that has stayed with me since then is the scene in which someone from a white community’s so-called improvement society tries to pay the Black family at the center of the story not to move into his white community. I remember being confused by that exchange, and my father explaining its racism to me. Because of that memory, I have felt an emotional connection to Hansberry’s work ever since and couldn’t miss the opportunity to see the revival of her second play. I was not disappointed. While Raisin is a serious drama centered on institutional racism and one Black family’s various dreams for their future, The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window, set among bohemians in 1960s Greenwich Village, is a satire aimed at the wider society. Alternating between sharp wit and pathos, Brustein pokes sardonically at progressive pretensions, political corruption, prejudice against interracial relationships, the forced roles of women, and the tendency of different oppressed groups to snipe at each other rather than show the empathy that recognition of their similar situations should engender. The play’s overarching themes, though, are action vs. apathy, and idealism vs. cynical compromise. At the play’s start, Wally O’Hara, a professed reformer, seeks Sidney’s support in the local political primary, including the placement of a sign—DOWN WITH BOSSISM! O’HARA FOR REFORM—in Sidney’s apartment window. But Sidney, who has just bought a small, failing newspaper, doesn’t want any part of politics. Alton, Sidney’s Black Marxist friend, declaims, “There it is man! The great disease of the modern bourgeois intellectual: ostrich-ism. The great sad withdrawal from the affairs of men.” In response, Sidney expresses his fatigue with fighting for causes and the petty concerns of many so-called activists: “Since I was 18, I’ve belonged to every committee to Save, to Free, to Abolish, Preserve, Reserve and Conserve that ever was. And the result—is that the mere thought of a ‘movement’ to do anything chills my bones! I simply can no longer bear the spectacle of power-driven insurgents trying at all costs to gain control of—the refreshment committee.” But Wally and Alton persuade Sidney that Wally is fighting to do more than “diddle around with the little things since we can’t do anything about the big ones.” Wally points out that their neighborhood is the second largest narcotics drop in the city, that the syndicate acts like it owns the neighborhood, and the cops are on the take. Sidney puts the sign in his window and puts his newspaper behind Wally’s campaign. Wally wins the primary. But it is a hollow victory, as the innocent, idealistic Sidney discovers that Wally only won the primary because he sold himself to the corrupt political machine. Wally defends the betrayal of his principles, claiming that to get anything done you must go where the power is and he can now get needed stop signs, better garbage collection, and a new playground. Wally will just tinker with the edges of small change and won’t fight for the big needed changes as he originally had campaigned to do. Wally now wants Sidney to keep his newspaper out of politics—to stay in the realm of ideas, music and writing on the arts and leave “the world” to the Wallys. He declares that his victory in the election is a foregone conclusion. Wally threatens that if Sidney opposes him and his backers, the newspaper won’t last more than six months. But finally, Sidney is going to fight. He says: “You have forced me to take a position…Just not being for you is not enough. To live, to breathe—I’ve got to be against you.” When Brustein opened in New York in 1964, the critics were not impressed. Perhaps, they expected Hansberry to deliver another Raisin, and were not willing to accept a satire falling outside that dramatic box. Or perhaps they couldn’t handle Hansberry’s expansion into critiquing our society as a whole. Ordinarily, the critics’ reactions would have killed the play. But the theater community–producers, directors, writers and actors–championed it. Mel Brooks and Anne Bancroft took out several full-page ads defending the play against the critics. They acknowledged that initially they had only “joined the cause for Lorraine Hansberry,” who was fighting a losing battle against pancreatic cancer even while making notes to enhance her play. (The playwright died at age 34 in 1965.) Based on the critics’ reactions, Brooks and Bancroft did not expect the play to be good. But they wrote that, to their shock, “It was a wonderful play.” They added, “In our opinion…BRUSTEIN…is a more mature and compelling work than Miss Hansberry’s award-winning A Raisin in the Sun.” I’m not sure Brustein is more compelling than Raisin, but I do believe it is the earlier play’s equal. And Brustein’s message is as important today as it was when first produced—perhaps more so. With the never-ending corruption of Trump, his cohorts, and his would-be successors—from his right-wing minions in Congress to the hack judges Trump installed and the media propagandists disseminating his lies—democracy is on the line as it never has been before. This assault on so many fronts can be overwhelming, and the resulting exhaustion can make one wish to withdraw from the fray. The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window—a play for our times as well as its own—is a rousing call to forego “ostrich-ism” and join the battle. The current production of The Sign in Sidney Brustein’s Window, starring Oscar Isaacs and Rachel Brosnahan (Mrs. Maisel), will be playing at the James Earl Jones Theatre in New York through July 2nd. Political columnist Jessie Seigel had a long career as a government attorney in which she honed her analytic skills. She has also twice received an Artist’s Fellowship from the Washington, D.C. Commission on the Arts and Humanities for her fiction, and has been a finalist for a number of literary awards. In addition, Seigel is an associate editor at the Potomac Review, a reviewer for The Washington Independent Review of Books, and a dabbler in political cartoons at Daily Kos. Of this balance in her work between the analytic and the imaginative, Seigel jokes, “I guess my right and left brains are well-balanced.” More on and from Seigel can be found at The Adventurous Writer, https://www.jessieseigel.com.

By Laurence Lerman / New York City My late mother wasn’t being deliberately ironic when she told me that Glenda Jackson was “a class act” in the 1974 romantic comedy A Touch of Class and that I had to see it. She had only seen Ms. Jackson in that movie and Ken Russell’s 1969 film adaptation of D.H. Lawrence’s Women in Love, but she was insistent that I check out the rom-com about an extramarital affair in which Jackson co-starred with George Segal. She won Academy Awards for Best Actress for both efforts. “You’ll love her voice. And her attitude. And her hair,” my mom promised. I saw the movie on television in 1980 or thereabouts—I was 16, 17 years old—and my mom was right. Ms. Jackson was a class act through-and-through, with crystalline diction, a serious attitude (in a movie that was surprisingly cavalier about infidelity) and awesome hair. She was also as focused an actress as I had ever seen at my young age, a quality that would come into play in her later career as a member of the British Parliament. Jackson died on June 14 at her home in Blackheath, London. She was 87. According to her agent, Lionel Larner, her death came after a brief illness. I saw a handful of the two-time Oscar winner’s other films over the next couple of decades, including John Schlesinger’s Sunday Bloody Sunday (1971), Hugh Whitmore’s Stevie (1978), Ken Russell’s The Music Lovers (1971) and The Rainbow (1989) and the comedy Lost and Found (1979), which reteamed her with her Touch of Class co-star George Segal. Just as I was beginning to dig deeper into her filmography and such lesser-discussed features as Damiano Damiani’s out-there convent melodrama The Devil is a Woman (1974), Jackson got out of the acting game and became a member of the British Parliament. A lifelong liberal, Jackson was elected to Parliament as a member of the Labour Party in 1992. She would ultimately spend 23 years as a Labour Party lawmaker, including serving as a minister for transport in Prime Minister Tony Blair’s first government in 1997. The always outspoken Jackson proved to be just that when it came to expressing her hatred of the Conservative government, a dislike which was partially fueled, she claimed, by “that dreadful woman, Margaret Thatcher.” Glenda Jackson virtually vanished from the screen for more than two decades. I was left trying to fill in the blanks on her prior filmography, which included her much-lauded take on Queen Elizabeth I in the 1971 television miniseries Elizabeth R. Of course, I had also missed out on the Royal Shakespeare Company veteran’s extensive stage work in London and on Broadway in the ‘60s,’70s and ‘80s. Jackson, starring in well-received productions of Antony and Cleopatra, Hamlet, Macbeth, Eugene O’Neill’s Strange Interlude and Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage, among others, won a Tony Award for her role in a 2018 revival of Edward Albee’s Three Tall Women. I had one glorious opportunity to see Ms. Jackson on stage at London’s Old Vic Theatre in her leading turn in King Lear in 2016. Her performance in what she described as “the greatest play ever written” was imperious and awesome. It didn’t so much as bring a fresh take to the famously demanding male role as much as a fierce and intimidating one. She won rave reviews and an Olivier Award nomination before bringing the play to Broadway in 2019 to even more praise. Ms. Jackson had finished filming a new movie with Michael Caine only a few weeks prior to her health failing. The film is The Great Escaper and it tells the true story of how an octogenarian escaped from his English care home in 2014 to attend the attend the 70th anniversary of the D-Day Landings in France. Jackson portrays veteran Caine’s wife. It marks Caine and Jackson’s first collaboration since they co-starred in the charming 1975 comedy The Romantic Englishwoman. It’s nice to know that for her final film, Jackson worked alongside another class act from Britain who has one helluva voice. Laurence Lerman is a film journalist, former editor of Video Business--Variety's DVD trade publication--and husband to The Insider's own Gwen Cooper. Over the course of his career he has conducted one-on-one interviews with just about every major director working today, including Martin Scorsese, Quentin Tarantino, Clint Eastwood, Kathryn Bigelow, Ridley Scott, Walter Hill, Spike Lee, and Werner Herzog, among numerous others. Once James Cameron specifically requested an interview with Laurence by name, which his wife still likes to brag about. Most recently, he is the co-founder and editor-in-chief of the online review site DiscDish.com.

By Naomi Serviss / New York City A dozen horses have died at Louisville, Kentucky’s Churchill Downs since April 12. “What has happened at our track is deeply upsetting and absolutely unacceptable,” said Churchill Downs’s CEO Bill Carstanjen in a statement. Upstate New York’s Saratoga Springs racetrack (which doesn’t open until the middle of July) has already recorded two deaths, according to Horseracing Wrongs, a nonprofit organization founded in 2013 that is determined to end horse racing. It collects and posts horse death data. The group confirmed 901 deaths last year. Founder and president Patrick Battuello told The Insider: “From breeding for speed, to employing adolescent bodies, to the incessant grinding—not to mention commodification—of those bodies, to forcing them to run at an unnatural rate (breakneck), in an unnatural way (in close quarters, among an anxious, artificial herd), and through unnatural means (perched, whip-wielding humans), horseracing guarantees a certain level of killing.” Racehorse Ami’s Curlin was euthanized on June 10. He had just turned two years old and was being prepared at Saratoga for his debut. His most recent workout had been on May 23. Imagine how painful racing at top speed with bad feet must have been for Ami’s Curlin. It gets worse. Two other horses were also euthanized on the June 10th weekend. Both Mashnee Girl (Saturday) and Excursionniste (Sunday) suffered catastrophic leg injuries at Belmont Park. They had the same trainer. Dusty deaths. The Stakes was the 155th running, and 112th time, held at Belmont Park in Elmont, N.Y. Nicknamed The Test of Champions, the Stakes is typically held on the first or second Saturday in June, three weeks after the Preakness Stakes and five weeks after the Kentucky Derby. One sliver of good news: the $1.5 million Belmont Stakes ended with a win for thoroughbred Arcangelo and trainer Jena Antonucci, the first woman to train a winner of the Triple Crown in its more than century-old history. The race covers a full lap of Belmont Park, with its long homestretch and sweeping turns. The Test of Champions is so named because nearly every American champion in racing history has competed there. For those not enamored of today’s New! Improved! Horse racing actual reality! there are gentler times to recall. Maybe you remember (or have read about) the 1973 Belmont Stakes and Triple Crown winner Secretariat, who holds the track record of 2:24. The movie was good, too! Why do senseless equine deaths repeat every racing season?? Drugs and overtraining are culprits. Love of money, another. Bottom line: it’s a business. But horse racing’s cloudy reputation is being further muddied by the hard facts: too many animals are dying for a man-made pastime. A sampling of detected drugs in horses include: Cocaine, cobra venom, blood doping agents, cancer drugs, Viagra, corticosteroid injections and anti-inflammatories. The Horseracing Integrity and Safety Authority is another nonprofit watchdog agency keeping tabs on the industry. Overseen by the Federal Trade Commission, the Authority was created to establish anti-doping rules and meaningful violation consequences. Under the Authority’s regulations for handling drug policy violations, the public will be informed within weeks of the names of the horse and trainer and the drug involved. A dire prediction by some: Belmont Park will soon become the deadliest racetrack in the country. Why, you may ask? Because New York State legislators approved a $455 million loan to rebuild the 118-year-old track. To whose benefit? Follow the money. I understand the thrill of pony wagers. My divorced father (Alex) bet plenty when he lived alone in East Greenwich, R.I., a well-to-do suburb of Providence. Alex’s bleak apartment was down a musty alleyway with bad ventilation. The weathered front door revealed a dismal two-room apartment off the main drag. The kind of hovel where you’d wear waterproof shoes in the shower. In 1976, I was a features reporter for the Providence Journal and visited him. A frugal former Navy man and a dedicated gambler, Alex took me (and his even-then ancient-looking pal Cappy) to the close-by Cranston racetrack. It wasn’t a spiffy place but offered all the sport’s trappings. Queues in front of betting windows competed with tinny-amped speaker announcements. Groans when a favored steed was scratched. Burnt coffee smells and loser’s sweat washed over disappointed faces. A top-notch people-watching spread. Alex bet on whims and superstitions. He boasted of an insider’s tip. “Remember names of horses that take a dump,” he confided, chewing roasted, salted peanuts from a noisy cellophane bag. The horses near the stables seemed well taken care of. We got close to them. Almost touching distance. People were cheerful and friendly. I fell in love with every horse I spotted. It was a small time-y, run-down track befitting an ancient-looking (but probably only in his 60s), related-by-DNA father. When dog racing was still legal, he’d bet on that. He bought lottery tickets like there was no tomorrow, and gifted me with a six-piece set of steak knives filched at Ponderosa Steakhouses. My dowry, says my husband. As a kid I devoured books like the lifeline they became. Black Beauty and National Velvet were read over and over. And the movies with Elizabeth Taylor—a kid with an adult woman’s face–captivated me. In glorious freedom, those obviously well-cared-for equines roamed pastures freely, racing on occasion. A few years ago, Lew (husband) and I attended a wedding held at the Saratoga Springs racetrack in upstate New York. It’s a quaint, moneyed town with trendy shops and restaurants catering to a gambling crowd. A merry-go-round in the park, another indication of the town’s bent. Reminded folks why they were in this hamlet. The wedding ceremony was held in a lovely garden. The reception in the Jockey Hall of Fame. It was opulent and surreal. Guests were free to wander and admire the statuary and portraits. Jockey uniforms decorated the walls. It was dreamy and beautiful. Almost as odd as being at a racetrack with my bio-dad, watching him smoke his offensive pipe and make pronouncements of winners. According to Horseracing Wrong, since 2009, 614 horses have perished at Belmont Park—an average of almost 45 deaths a year. At all New York tracks combined, the toll averages over 125 annually. Across the country, about six racehorses die every day and all of this, I remind, is for nothing more than $2 bets. Naomi Serviss is a New York-based award-winning journalist whose work has been published in The New York Times, Newsday, The Philadelphia Inquirer, Highroads (AAA magazine), in-flight publications, spa and travel magazines and websites, including BroadwayWorld.com

Fred Plotkin, a pleasure activist and passionate Italy and culinary expert, speaks each Friday with leading people in the arts FRED PLOTKIN is one of America’s foremost experts on opera and has distinguished himself in many fields as a writer, speaker, consultant and as a compelling teacher. He is an expert on everything Italian, the person other so-called Italy experts turn to for definitive information.  Fred discovered the concept of "The Renaissance Man" as a small child and has devoted himself to pursuing that ideal as the central role of his life. In a “Public Lives” profile in The New York Times on August 30, 2002, Plotkin was described as "one of those New York word-of-mouth legends, known by the cognoscenti for his renaissance mastery of two seemingly separate disciplines: music and the food of Italy." In the same publication, on May 11, 2006, it was written that "Fred is a New Yorker, but has the soul of an Italian."

By Victoria Rolfe / Red Hook, N.Y. I’m sure you are all familiar with that old adage, “Reuse, Reduce, Recycle.”. Well, I would like to focus this column on just one aspect of that dictum–the reuse component. We here at the old Rolfe homestead go for reusing in a big way. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is ever casually tossed away in this house. Can it be fixed? What else can we do with it? Before anything gets thrown out, it is very carefully scrutinized for any possible future use. First of all, we do not buy things with tossing away in mind. By this I refer to “disposable” products–in other words, paper and plastic one-use items. Even if we are eating outdoors or have company, we use real dishes, never paper or plastic. The same goes for cups and utensils. On the rare occasion that we have a big party here with too many people for our dishes to accommodate, we have (ostensibly) “disposable” sturdy plastic plates and knives and forks that we just wash and reuse for the next party. The same goes for cleaning and personal care supplies. We use rags and sponges rather than paper towels. No Swiffers for the Rolfes, just an old-fashioned mop and bucket. We use cloth napkins for dining. A face cloth rather than a “wipe.” Our vacuum cleaner does not have a bag to throw out. We just empty its contents (into the compost bin). Even when we did have a vacuum with a bag, we would empty the bag and reuse it as many times as possible. We try to buy food with as little packaging as possible, but of course there is still plenty of packaging that we can’t avoid. So, we reuse plastic tubs to store leftovers in. And when they get too icky for that purpose, they move on to their next life as a garden container. Maybe a scoop for potting soil, or a container for chicken food, or perhaps they get holes in the bottom to become planters. In fact, the garden in general is a great place for reusing things. Anytime we buy a plant, the pot gets washed out to be used again. I use the same cell packs (that I originally bought plants in) over and over again, year after year, to plant my seeds in. Mushroom and takeout containers with a few holes punched in the bottom are also great for seed-starting. But it’s not just plant pots that get reused in the garden. Everything gets a second life. The straw that we use as mulch for the tomato plant then gets tossed in the chicken yard as bedding. Once the coop needs refreshing, the straw gets thrown into the compost to break down and become an amendment for the soil in our garden. How’s that for reuse, reuse, reuse? Not everything gets reused for the purpose it was originally intended. The garden is a great spot for some creative reusing. An old bed frame gets new life as a pea trellis. Old boots become planters. You are only limited by your imagination. As another way of reusing in the garden, we “reuse” plants. I divide them up to add new gardens. I collect the seeds from them to grow new flowers and veggies the following year. I gather cuttings from shrubs to grow new ones. It’s all just reusing what I already have. Even water gets reused. It never just goes to waste. If I am just rinsing something out. I don’t dump the water down the drain. I pour it into something else that needs soaking, or water a plant with it. If I am letting the faucet run to get hot water, that water is running into jugs to water plants later. We even reuse items that our fellow Americans typically don’t. We wash out Ziploc bags many times over. We fold up tin foil for another use. We save any cardboard boxes that come into our home to use again or to break down and use under mulch in the garden. We wipe and reuse parchment paper. Any paper with a blank side gets printed on the other side or is saved for scrap paper. I even get several uses out of a tea bag before it gets tossed in the compost. All this goes to alleviate more stuff in the world. The more people reuse what is already here, the less they will purchase more stuff. The more they can hold onto things at home, the less stuff goes into the landfill. Let’s all do what we can to close that circle a little bit. Less stuff coming into our homes means (eventually) less stuff being manufactured. Less stuff going out means less accumulation of garbage and pollution in our world. It really is that simple and in my humble opinion so easy to do. So, take a few moments to think before you buy. “Where is this item going to end up?” “How many uses will I have for it?” And before you toss it, “Can I (or someone else) reuse this item?” I thank you for your consideration and our Mother Earth thanks you even more. A long, long time ago, after the birth of her third child, Victoria made the life-changing decision to leave the work world behind and devote herself to being a full-time mom and homemaker. Along with her new title of Domestic Engineer, she took on the role of the Chief Home Economist for the family. At first, it was scary to try to live on less than half their income, but Victoria found that she not only rose to the challenge but thrived in the enjoyment of learning to live their best life with limited resources. She embraced this new frugal lifestyle of the at-home-mom and went on to add a fourth child to the mix. And their family was complete. Along the way she acquired a great deal of wisdom in how to not only avoid debt, but pay off mortgages early, buy cars for cash, travel on a shoe-string budget, and send kids to college with no student loans, all while also saving a tidy nest egg for retirement. She currently educates others in these skills through her business Bright Future. Now living the life of a modern homesteader in the Hudson Valley, New York, Victoria has added gardening to her list of skill sets as she grows many of her own vegetables to supplement her family’s primarily vegan diet. And she has come to realize that this waste-not, want-not, carbon-friendly, sustainable life she is living is not only benefiting her own family but also our Mother Earth, and that each of us has the obligation to live a responsibly sustainable life not only for ourselves, but for the greater good of our community, and our planet. We can all do this one household and backyard at a time. We are the world! And it all begins right at home. Victoria can be reached at brightfuture2budget4@gmail.com

By Andy Borowitz | The New Yorker June 16, 2023 MIAMI (The Borowitz Report)—Miami police are looking for a defendant with seventy-one felony counts who skipped out on a check at a local Cuban restaurant on Tuesday. According to the police, the man, who has been indicted for crimes in New York and Florida and could soon face arrest in Georgia, offered to pay for everyone in the restaurant before beating the check. Harland Dorrinson, a spokesman for the Miami police, said that the suspect had been on a “multistate crime spree” and should be considered “extremely dangerous.” “He is not believed to be carrying a weapon, but he could be carrying documents indicating the location of weapons,” the spokesman said. He revealed that the police are searching for the suspect throughout Miami, with special emphasis on the city’s bathrooms. “He appears to believe that those are highly secure locations,” Dorrinson noted. Andy Borowitz is a Times best-selling author and a comedian who has written for The New Yorker since 1998. He writes The Borowitz Report, a satirical column on the news.

By Bonnie Fishman / San Francisco Bay Area When it comes to produce, berries are synonymous with summer. What’s ripe and pickable depends on where you live in the country. Around me, the four most popular berries are available. One evening this week, my son Ben, his wife Rachel, and their two boys, Emet (age 9) and Jonas (age 6), joined me in an outing to Tru2Earth Farms in Gilroy, a brief 10-minute drive to pick organic strawberries, blueberries, raspberries and blackberries. It had been a beautiful day and as the sun was getting lower in the sky, the temperature was perfect for being out in the open fields, nestled in the foothills. The evening light and breeze were stellar. The five of us hit the strawberry fields first. These were real strawberries, redder than red throughout instead of a white interior. Sweet, don’t ask! Jonas was laser-focused on picking the biggest, ripest strawberries. He would shout “Here’s a big juicy one!” Next, we divided and conquered. Rachel and the boys moved over to the blueberries while Ben and I headed for the blackberries. OMG! These berries were huge, some of them an inch and a half long. Since the season has just began, we had to sort through the various stages of ripeness from white, to pink, to red, to black. Easy enough to identify. Tru2Earth is a relatively new farm, this being their third summer season. The owners have planted five acres of berries, strawberries being the most popular. Second are the blackberries. What is great about this farm is how organized the rows of fruit are. You’re not searching for berries through prickly brambles. One can go up and down the aisles in an organized fashion. Picking blackberries is easy because they are at torso height, easy to see, easy to reach. Strawberries, which grow close to the ground and require bending and stooping, take a physical toll on these old bones. A great feature of blackberries is that they have a white center core that prevents them from squashing when they’re piled on top of each other. Raspberries don’t have this core, so it is better to package them in low, flat containers to keep them from crushing. Our Gilroy outing made me think back to my previous berry-picking adventures. During the early ’80s, Bob and I lived on a lake in suburban Detroit in a house that came with a very large raspberry patch. That one was NOT organized, and we were forever getting scratched by having to bushwhack through the canes. When we moved to our home of 35 years in West Bloomfield, Mich., only three miles from the raspberry patch, Bob dug up some roots and transplanted them in our new one-acre backyard. This new patch produced nicely until the wild blackberries growing near our stream and woods traveled to the raspberries. Eventually, the blackberries won the battle and literally strangled the raspberries. Wild blackberries have a tendency to take over any empty space along fences, creeks, old buildings, rocks, or anywhere else they feel like. In 2008, Bob and I went on an adventure to Vancouver Island. While waiting in our car in line to board the car ferry, I gazed around. Much to my amazement, growing in major abundance along this long fence were tons of large juicy blackberries. Am I going to eat those? You betcha! I filled my pockets and then some. I would be remiss if I didn’t mention the wonderful nutritional value of berries. They are high in fiber, antioxidants, vitamins C and K, magnesium and potassium. They are fantastic eaten straight up or mixed in fruit salad, yogurt, green salads or a variety of desserts. Today’s recipe is a perfect, versatile dessert for the summer season. I’m making Blackberry Tart with Devonshire Cream. You can easily replace the blackberries with blueberries, strawberries or raspberries. Everything else in the recipe stays the same. One fun idea is to make circles of raspberries and blueberries. Along with the white cream, you have a perfect dessert for July 4th! Tell us here at The Insider your experiences with picking berries. Did you eat more than you brought home? Blackberry Tart with Devonshire Cream Yield: 10-12 servings 12 oz. fresh blackberries Crust: 1 c. flour 1 Tbsp. sugar 3 oz. cold butter, cut into bits 1 lg. egg yolk 1-2 Tbsp. ice water Combine the flour, sugar, and butter in a mixing bowl.  Work the butter into the flour, using the tips of your fingers and thumbs until it resembles cornmeal.  Whisk together the yolk and 1 Tbsp. of ice water.  If the dough is too dry, add another tablespoon of ice water. Pour into the flour mixture. If it doesn’t come together, drizzle in a little water at a time until it is a uniform dough.  Flatten into a disc, wrap in cling film, and refrigerate for 1 hour. Devonshire cream filling: 9 oz. cream cheese, room temperature 3 Tbsp. sugar 2/3 c. sour cream, room temperature juice of 3/4 lemon, or to taste 3/4 tsp. vanilla Blend together the cream cheese and sugar until light and fluffy. Blend in the sour cream.  Whisk in the lemon juice and vanilla.  Chill well. Glaze: 1/2 c. strawberry or currant jelly 1 Tbsp. lemon juice Put the jelly and lemon juice in a small saucepan. Melt over low heat until there are no more lumps. Bring to a boil; boil for 1 minute or until glazy. Assembly: On a lightly floured surface, roll out the dough to fit  into a 9” or 11” removable bottom tart pan.  Prick all over with a fork.  Freeze for 30 minutes. Place on a cookie sheet. Line tart with foil. Place a heavy pan on the foil to weight it down. Bake at 375° for 10 minutes. Remove foil and bake blind at 350° for another 15-20 minutes, or until golden brown.  Cool completely before placing on a cake plate. Spread the cheese filling evenly over the tart. Beginning with outside edges, place berries stem-side down, close together. Continue in circles until the tart is filled with tightly packed berries. Brush the glaze carefully onto the berries, filling in the holes with glaze. Chill to set. Bonnie Fishman attended the Cordon Bleu Cookery School in London. Later, she owned and operated Bonnie’s Patisserie in Southfield, Mich. and Bonnie’s Kitchen and Catering in Bloomfield Hills, Mich. She has taught cooking for over 35 years and created hundreds of recipes. She is now living in Northern California.

By Steve Cash / Detroit Like many people, I’ve used Facebook to state my political and philosophical views. In a passionate manner, I would constantly argue with friends and strangers alike. In the beginning, in 2010, the exchange of ideas was fun and challenging. I would give my opinion and carefully consider different views. As time went on, though, I noticed a lack of civility. People began to get angry at opposing views. I even lost a very good friend for a while over our polar opposite political convictions. This eventually led to intolerance and name calling on Facebook. Eventually, it seemed that liberals and conservatives stopped talking to each other completely, and only communicating with like- minded people. This was an unfortunate and sad development. Little did I know that it would lead to an even more disturbing phenomenon. With extreme political divisiveness ruling the day and communication at a near standstill, I noticed people were now using Facebook for a much more annoying purpose. To my chagrin, they posted the most annoying personal messages. I beg your indulgence while I document this unfortunate turn of events. My neighbor’s proudest moment In what I believe was a misguided and desperate need for attention, my neighbor informed Facebook users that she had recently returned from a trip to the doctor to remove her excessive ear wax. She wanted to let her followers know what an expert job the doctor had done in removing that pesky substance. My neighbor raved about how her ENT doctor kept her in the loop and included her in the process by showing her the goop as it was removed. She seemed proud that this brilliant man of science had taken the time to call his staff into the room to witness what he described as “record -breaking chunks” as they exited her ear canal. She finished the post by highly recommending the doctor. I was personally nauseated by her online disclosure, but given the 30 likes and high praise that she received from her Facebook friends, I am seriously considered posting the complete story of my recent bout with watery stool. Male midnight confession I was having trouble sleeping late one night, so I turned to Facebook to pass the time. I noticed a post by a close friend, whom I had always known to be shy and reserved and pretty much to keep to himself. But I found out through his post that he too had fallen victim to the newest Facebook craze, posting what was formerly considered private and humiliating information. For some unknown reason, my friend felt the need to inform the world of his newly discovered impotence. As if his admission weren’t surprising and sad enough, he also asked other Facebook contributors for advice on correcting this issue. I guess my friend was hurting and wanted to share his problem with others. That part I understand. What I don’t understand is the part about asking for medical advice from others. As far as I know, there are specialists who treat this problem. I‘d think that might be a safer bet than asking for expertise from someone on Facebook. For all my friend knows, the medical advice on Facebook might be coming from a forklift driver from Wyandotte. Although I find it puzzling that a person would post about such a personal and embarrassing matter, I kind of admire him for being uninhibited and sharing his feelings. As an aside, in some ways I can relate to his problem. I also have had a few scares concerning this issue. Fortunately, I was able to turn to my wife in those troubling times. But I must admit I was surprised and somewhat disappointed at my wife’s reaction to my possible impotence. Instead of being concerned about the possibility, she admitted to a feeling of relief. Living in the material world Now that discussing politics has become a no-no, Facebook has also become a haven for braggarts. A guy I went to high school with posts nothing but his work-related accomplishments and pictures of his numerous valuable possessions. His new cars, glitzy homes and fabulous vacations are constantly featured on his page. If it sounds like I'm jealous, it’s because I am. No one could have foretold that he would outdo me on the success ladder. In high school, I topped him in the events I thought would insure my superiority over him in later life. I creamed him in the rope climb, and he was no match for me in dodgeball. Although I never saw him with a pretty girl in high school, I was gobsmacked to see a picture of his beautiful wife in his most recent post. It's clear that I can’t compete with him financially, but if things change and we once again agree to have a legitimate dialogue on Facebook, I will get my revenge and destroy him on the Alaska pipeline controversy. In 1960, Kennedy and Nixon had several monumental debates concerning the prevailing issues of the day. Although they did not like each other, there is no doubt they respected the political process. They debated with knowledge, wisdom, and civility. They discussed the Russian menace, nuclear disarmament and civil rights. The moderators were fair and seemingly unbiased. We should all try and learn a lesson from that more respectful time. If we can recapture the dignity of those world-changing debates, perhaps we can return to Facebook for a more honest and polite discourse. If we’re not able to agree to debate respectfully, though, I'm afraid we are destined to read disturbing accounts of my aunt Jennie’s canker-sore trials and tribulations on future Facebook posts. Steve Cash is originally from Oak Park, Mich. He is a longtime real estate agent who used to do stand-up comedy in L.A. His claim to fame was winning The Gong Show in 1977, and working at the Comedy Store with such greats as David Letterman, Jay Leno, and Michael Keaton. After watching those brilliant comics perform, Steve realized he’d better make a beeline back to Detroit and get back into real estate. Steve has had articles published in a number of publications and enjoys writing and trying to make people laugh.