June 19, 2022

Published in "The Narrative Collective" -- "ESCAPE FROM GEL NAIL MANICURE HELL: Words From a Former Addict"


My name is Bonni. I am a recovered gel nail manicure addict. After several years of falling into this beauty trap, my fingernails sent me a message, loud and clear:


They wanted to breathe.  

To read how I overcame this nasty addiction, click here.

June 14, 2022

For a Stroke Survivor, WOW! What a Week to be Alive: Keeping the world at bay for just a minute

What’s happening in the world — between the war, the shootings, women’s rights, climate change, to name a few — is extremely depressing. May I humbly share my good news? 

Last week I had a bounty of extraordinary celebrations.

Photo Courtesy of the Author

First: My son and daughter-in-law gave birth to a little boy named Bowie Llewyn Brodnick. Look at the intent of David’s gaze towards his new son. For a parent, it’s a joy to hear the fathomless love David is expressing… and it’s just the beginning. “Longue vie à Bowie Llewyn!” (“Long life to Bowie Llewyn!”) wrote one of my good friends in France.

Photo Courtesy of the Author

Second (and a few days later): My daughter graduated from medical school. She’s Class of 2020, but the school held off the ceremony until 2022 due to the pandemic. The delay between graduation and real life put Dr. ACB well on her way to fulfilling a three-year residency in a major hospital emergency department. [We even had to cut the graduation celebration short because The Good Doctor had a 4:00 a.m. sign-in in the hospital’s Level I Trauma Center.)

These personal events were a mini-distraction from what was happening in the world. As a stroke survivor especially — one who had to relearn how to walk, talk, swallow, and tie my shoes — you can be sure that I EMBRACE EVERY SECOND of these milestone moments.

And now, back to the news.

May 19, 2022

On MEDIUM: "My Pocketbook Weighs as Much as a Person: WHY?”


    The other day, I was at the mall, got into my car, fastened my seatbelt, and threw my pocketbook on the empty passenger seat beside me.

When I went into “reverse,” the “Fasten Your Seatbelt” alarm sounded. It wasn’t me.

“Is there someone else in the car?”

I panicked, thinking I might be in one of those investigative “Dateline” segments that warn you to always look in the backseat before pulling out of a mall parking lot.

But, in full disclosure, here is the pathetic reality about the alarm going off: it was my pocketbook. It was so heavy that…

KEEP READING ...  (When you get the "Redirect Notice," just hit the link)

May 7, 2022

"I SWEAR" -- Mother's Day Guest Column for the "Bedford/Pound Ridge RECORD-REVIEW"

May 8, 2008

"I Swear"

By Bonni Brodnick
Guest Columnist

Whenever one of my mother’s sentences begins with “I swear,” I take cover and get ready for the diatribe. If I’m in the kitchen, I stop chopping. If I’m in the car, I turn the radio lower. It’s just too good to miss.

“I swear, kids these days purposefully dress with no respect. They show their underwear, for crying out loud. Boys’ pants are practically falling off. And what’s with those stringy things on girls’ hips? Do they have any idea how ridiculous that looks?”

“No, Mom, I don’t think so.”

“If you dress sloppy, you act sloppy. Years ago you would have been scorned by society and looked at askance if you showed your belly button or underwear. Clothes had some sense of propriety and rules of society. There were parameters of knowing what’s right and what’s wrong. I swear there’s just too much laissez-faire nowadays. Kids have opportunities to dress the way they like and express their individuality after school, on the weekends, and all summer long. Dressing properly and acting properly displays a respect for society in general.

“And what about manners? Doesn’t anyone teach their kids manners anymore? I was walking into the Staples the other day and this kid, he must have been in high school, actually walked in before me, and didn’t keep open the door. Can you believe that? In other countries, older people are revered. When I go to the shuttle bus to get on the ferry for the Vineyard, I’d be darned if a young man gets up for me to sit down. I would say 30% of the time they don’t. Someone hasn’t taught them anything. I swear, they sit there like they’re entitled to that seat.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Just plain rude. But then I was meeting a friend for tea in Westport and we had the nicest server. It restored all faith in mankind, I swear.”

“That’s good.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask you: what’s with visiting all of these colleges? Can't you just apply to three schools and get into all three? Why do you and Annie have to go all over the east coast looking at colleges? Can’t he just pick one and go there? I swear.”

“No, Mom. Times have really changed since I went to college.”

“What’s the name of that new chef on tee-vee?” (Moms are allowed not to have sequés.)

“Rachel Ray?”

“She’s adorable. Anyway, today she talked about using rosemary with cauliflower. I never thought of that combination. It’s great, isn’t it? Have you ever thought of that? It’s so original.”

“Sounds delicious,” I said as I choked on a pistachio nut (trying to down some protein before going to the gym.)

“Honey, do you have an appointment with the allergist?”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Be sure to stay on top of it. I swear. Before you know it, it will be summer and you’ll be coughing your head off.”

“I’m all set, Mom.”

“By the way, did you see ‘Juno’? The movie industry is setting such terrible examples for children. In six months, I swear, you’ll find a lot of young girls who teetered on the edge. Hollywood is so focused on money that they encourage lack of morality. It’s just bad news. Not that they have to do panty-waist stories, but they can certainly use their imagination. 

"They have the most fertile minds in the country out there in Los Angeles. Surely they can come out with something more than violence and sex on film. And is there a difference now between pornography and regular films? The actors are sleeping all over the place.”

“Not in my house,” I respond.

“What did you think of the dress Hillary (Clinton) wore? I swear she looked like a harlot in that red get-up, didn’t she?”

“I thought it looked like she was stepping out. As in ‘I am woman, hear me roar.’”

“I think it was a little too stylish for a presidential candidate.”

“I guess.”

“Well, have a nice evening, darling. I’ll speak with you tomorrow.”

“Love you, Mom.”

“Love you, too, dear.”

                                                                 # # #

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