Monday, November 24, 2025

Thankful for Thanksgiving Silliness

Anyone for Turkey Bowling? How about wacky Thanksgiving headgear? Turkey craft projects?

I really like Thanksgiving, maybe more than any other holiday, and I like a side of silliness with the traditional meal. Fortunately, my extended family goes along with that, and often contributes their own expressions of whimsy.

Last year, I bought Thanksgiving eyeglasses for everyone. Here I am, modeling the pair I chose. 

One year, I showed up with a Turkey Bowling game, tall plastic "pins" in the shape of turkey legs and balls with appalled turkey faces. We "bowled" in the long hallway, scattering turkey legs everywhere. At the end of the evening, the younger set hid a leg or two in the house for someone to find later.

Another year, I showed up with Thanksgiving Rubber Duckies, little rubber bath toys dressed in Pilgrim garb, Native American headdresses and turkey feathers. As I recall, one year I provided a herd of toy wind-up moose, and the family held moose races at the table. (Still mourning the closure of a favorite toy store: The Last Wound-up, in New York City.)  

Hats and bonnets for everyone at the table — like those Puritan men and women wore — were a big hit one Thanksgiving, provided by other family members. A few years earlier, we all donned more elaborate seasonal headgear. Here, appropriately attired, Grandma Sue whips the cream that will top the pumpkin pie and her special tasty gingerbread cake with candied ginger, served after the main meal. 

I don't do crafts — I even have a button trumpeting that message — and before you criticize me, know that I don't do crafts because I'm terrible at them. Blame a lack of manual dexterity (except when I type) or poor spatial relationships or art appreciation skills of a different sort or whatever you like, but I don't do crafts.

However, one year, I arrived at Thanksgiving with a prepackaged turkey craft project for any interested guests, and the kids were all over it. Some of the turkeys ended up serving as ornaments for the Christmas tree, an unusual after-story for Thanksgiving leftovers.

Speaking of leftovers, because everyone at our Thanksgiving dinners brings more than we can eat, we always have plenty of food to divvy up and tote home so each of us can enjoy the meal all over again the following day. Here's a sample plate from one recent year's feast. 

What I just wrote is not entirely true. In addition to pumpkin pie and gingerbread cake, my daughter-in-law's delicious apple pie is one of our cherished Thanksgiving traditions. Sadly, rarely is any left in the pie plate when the evening draws to a close. This photo shows a somewhat deconstructed piece on my dessert plate — maybe I was served first, always the hardest piece to extract from a pie.

This year, I'm not taking silly Thanksgiving-themed souvenirs or a crazy game to our gathering. Instead, I'm honoring our penchant for apple pie by sharing a fascinating factoid I learned while watching "CBS Sunday Morning." Allegedly, the first written recipe for apple pie dates back to the 14th century, and was penned for a royal cookbook by none other than Geoffrey Chaucer. How cool is that? 

Happy Thanksgiving!    
      


Monday, November 3, 2025

Correcting 'Alternative Facts' about Joseph Pilates' Life

Caution: If you read “Do You Speak Pilates?,” the blog I posted here on April 6 earlier this year, you need to know I repeated some information about Joseph Pilates that I have since learned is not entirely true. Today, I’ll try to correct that. 

Before I do, consider what Josephine Baker reportedly once said when asked her age. One of my favorite people (for numerous reasons), she named a highly unlikely number and then added, “not counting summers.” That’s proof that even a primary source is not always reliable — and in these troubled times, we know all about that.  

Anyway, here's some of what I've learned about Joseph Pilates. In “Bodies by Joe,” Alma Guillermoprieto’s amazing article published Aug. 21 in the New York Review of Books, she called him “a compulsive self-mythologizer,” saying "apparently Joseph Pilates did not always tell the whole truth.” (Thanks are due here to John, my Pilates instructor, for alerting me about the article.) 

For entirely different reasons, Guillermoprieto added, ”Pilates died in 1967, and I am grateful to have missed the opportunity to train with the master.” By all accounts, the master was something of a task master, though his concern for the health, muscle tone and flexability of his students apparently was genuine.   

In her article, Guillermoprieto listed three sources for readers who wanted to know more: “Caged Lion: Joseph Pilates and His Legacy” by John Howard Steel, “Hubertus Joseph Pilates” by Javier PĂ©rez Pont and Esperanza Aparicio Romero” and “Love All Around: The Romana Kryzanowska Biography” by Cathy Strack and Carol J. Craig. 

Steel’s book appealed to me the most and it was the easiest to get, so I ordered “Caged Lion” with confidence, because Guillermoprieto described the author as “a devoted pupil who wrote a fair-minded and helpful book.” 

Now a retired lawyer, decades ago Steel trained in New York City with Pilates and he also became friends with the gifted but eccentric man who developed the exercise program that he called “Contrology.” Now better known as “Pilates,” the low-impact regimen currently is practiced by more than 15 million people in the U.S., according to CNN, and Pilates has been dubbed “the fastest-growing fitness trend.” Statista reports that in 2024, “nearly a million people participated in Pilates training in the U.S.” Yowsa! 

Unaccustomed as I am to being part of any trend since my hula hoop days, I’m a Pilates convert, as I explained in that earlier post. In his book, Steel writes about his own early days on the reformer in the tiny studio, but he also writes about his relationship with Clara Pilates, who died in 1977, a decade after Joseph's passing.  While serving as Clara’s lawyer, Steel discovered that the couple had no paper trail — no licenses, leases or bank accounts — and they ran the studio as a cash-and-carry operation. 

Over the years, Steel and other devoted Pilates practitioners rescued the business from extinction twice, and as he tells it, the story features numerous twists, turns and lessons in diplomacy. Though he never abandons his tone of respect for Joseph Pilates and his significant accomplishments, at the end of the book, Steel does refute a lot of the conventional wisdom (it's everywhere) about Joseph’s personal history. 

Was he a boxer? A circus performer? A prisoner of war? Did he leave behind two wives and a couple of children before heading to America on a ship? Did he marry Clara? Did he ever acknowledge her contributions to Contrology? If you are at all tantalized, read “Caged Lion.”    

As a writer who likes when readers contact me with kind words about my work, I sent Steel a note. I thanked him for writing the book, and also said I appreciated his connecting Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi's flow theory with the mindfulness element that is key in Pilates classes. (Full disclosure: I was privileged to edit my  friend Linda’s doctoral thesis on Csikszentmihalyi’s theory as it applies to mathematics classes in elementary schools, so I know about his theory of "flow" and can even pronounce “Csikszentmihalyi” correctly. Try me.)    

Steel wrote back: “I loved your blog and thanks so much for your kind words. I still think “Flow” explains so much, even though not fully appreciated by many teachers or students. I was fortunate to find Mihaly’s book when trying to understand my deep attraction” to Pilates exercises. Steel said he also enjoyed what I wrote about Fred Pilates, who lived and taught in St. Louis. (For details, see my earlier blog post.) 

Steel continued, “I never met him and, typically, Joe never once mentioned him. But I suspect the machining that went into the reformer started with Fred, not Mr. DeSafio. Fred’s family was very upset with me after Clara died and the apartment had been stripped bare of memorabilia (and perhaps money). I was in California in a long trial when Clara died and the judge wouldn’t allow me to go back.” We'll never know what was lost.

Over the last two months, assorted sprained/strained muscles and/or a pinched nerve — complemented by a ridiculous gash on my hand — have kept me away from Pilates classes, but I’m easing back in and glad of it. Back on the reformer last week, I was pleased that my body remembered we’d been here and done that before, so I can confidently report that I still speak Pilates.

And now, I can speak more accurately about the man behind the method.