Monthly Archives: May 2016

Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 313: ‘No Games…Tonight’: A Corporate Love Letter

Dusk dinner


“No Games…Tonight”

Are you ready to come out of the act, woman . . .
Isn’t it about time you remove the mask?
Corporate executive duties have left you exhausted
Endless is the entrepreneurial multi-task

Your LinkedIn profile is commendably word-perfect
So amazing one person can do all that,
Tell me, would you buy shares in the network?
Have you cut any deals of measurable impact?

Slow down awhile, will you, and take a look below
Might it appear as if you’re running a treadmill,
Burning significant calories both physical and mental
But, my, why does it feel like it’s all uphill?

The Puritan work ethic you’re a loyal subscriber
It’s not as if you have much of a choice,
Either acquire wealth or perish in the try
Be careful on the way not to lose your voice

Games: Somebody or some committee wrote the rules
Have you discovered they now are being rewritten,
What was yesterday’s million is today’s billion
I guess quantitative easing is no longer forbidden

Are you getting yours . . . your share, your due
If not, Trump’s gonna make America great again,
I mean, Hillary would appear to be a no-brainer
But I just have this eerie suspicion, my friend

California elected an actor, so too did the country
Why wouldn’t a reality show titan make the cut,
While Bernie is most earnest and closest to the ground
Games are in the offing, your feeling, my gut

Says you and I may have seen this film before
Yesteryear celluloid, today a digital platform,
Are you prepared to “up” your acting game
Just in case there approaches a gathering storm

Tired, if but a little, you are, I can surmise
I can sense the pensiveness behind the mask,
The parties aren’t as fun, the vacations too short
Is being valued on your merits too much to ask?

Games; you’re a reluctant player but hardly alone
Those below and above are strategizing as much,
The rules of engagement are about to ratchet up
But remember who you are, woman, and live as such

Don’t ever let the moves close in on you, feel?
I ask that you allow me to do that instead,
You see, I’ve lost a title or two but not my soul
Indeed I’ve lost a love to the game, even bled

What a way, a fruitless way, to pass the time of day
Games, the nature of this tightrope existence we’re living,
But enough already–there’s a real pampering reality
Where pleasure is derived not in taking but giving

I’m that giver, if you’re willing to step off the treadmill
Let me slow your pace from going nowhere fast,
Our table awaits on this Pamper-Her-Friday
We’ll let others play the games, I want this to last.



Pamper the woman . . . with sincerity. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

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Posted by on May 27, 2016 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 312: ‘The Obama–Rg2 Summit’ A Love Letter

Antibiotic-free dinner


Say, Pretty Woman,

President Obama and I had a smoke the other day on the balcony of the West Wing, while you were frolicking on the sands of Cabo or was it touring the vineyards of the picturesque Napa Valley(?), or, well, whatever you were doing, it certainly wasn’t with me.

Anyway, the commander-in-chief and I were swapping how-today’s-women-treat-good-men war stories. I told him about this particular woman from Kansas with whom I’d been looking forward to sharing dinner. The president paused a presidential moment, took a puff, and said, “Kansas women are among the most intelligent, most romantic women in the country—if you can ever catch up with ’em.”

Incredulously I said, “Well, what about Lady Michelle? She’s from Chicago.”

The president took another, more exaggerated puff, exhaled coolly, and replied, “I still ain’t caught up with her, Roy.”

We both nearly tumbled off our chairs laughing.

Man, I’m gonna miss President Obama and the first lady at the center of American political life. And, ominously, the country’s gonna miss him at the helm, too.

For all the low expectations, quiet fears, phantom anxieties and purely unsubstantiated dislike for him by more than half the country, especially at the start of his term, the Obama brand has simply gotten better with time.

Did you hear or read about what he just did? Extending overtime pay eligibility to those making above the mid-twenties in salary to just under $50K may not seem like much at first glance, but it impacts millions of workers.

As you can imagine, the resistance from the other side of the aisle is thick. And big business is bristling. But the little guy and gal need an advocate too.

I give the president an A for the try. He’s going out swinging . . . actually saving some of his best work for the ninth inning.

But back to you, woman.

I guess if the president still hasn’t caught up with the beautiful Lady Michelle after these many years, my chances of your company for a simple, elegant dinner don’t look exactly promising, do they?

The president did leave me with a gem, however: “A woman, no matter how busy she is, leaves just enough room in her mind for the ‘possibility’ . . . the pampering possibility.

“As strong and independent as she is, Michelle loves to be pampered.”

With that, the president and I shook hands, exchanged a brother-man hug, and I thanked him sincerely for his invaluable time. He mentioned before I parted that he’s looking to write his memoirs and if I’d be interested in the ghostwrite.

“Absolutely,” I rushed.

“Deal,” the president replied, “But I want to hear how your dinner went with the lovely Kansas artful dodger.”

“You got it, Mr. President.”

I don’t need a presidential directive to prompt me nor to persuade you. But the “pampering possibility” has an intriguing ring to it, no?

And what do you know, it’s Pamper-Her-Friday.

What’s the possibility of your company tonight?




Pamper the woman . . . for possibility sake. -Pres. Obama

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

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Posted by on May 20, 2016 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 311: ‘Summer’s A Moment Away’ A Love Poem



“Summer’s A Moment Away”

Summer’s still a few sunsets away
I can’t imagine you haven’t had a forethought,
So evasive you were those two weekends ago
There’s a law of attraction you’ve apparently fought

It states rather clearly and unequivocally:
“No harm is done should the woman text the man,”
A simple, I think of you, is so very powerful
A genuine heart reveal does wonders, it can

What is there to lose? Certainly not your soul
Perhaps you question the realness of people anymore,
A student asked me if Hillary truly loves Bill
“Does time have to change what existed once before?”

Searching, we are, silently, quietly searching
Somewhere between nirvana and tranquility,
Is it Tinder or elsewhere in the ether—by chance
But have you self-examined your own ability . . .

To give an unbridled care, much less a dare
“Hello,” he’ll respond, “Is it me you’re looking for?”
How will you reply, woman, would you even bother?
You may discover you share an easy rapport

Something like the introduction of a perfect summer
Incidentally it’s only a few sunrises away,
And when it sets beyond the Pacific horizon
My hand will rest in yours . . . so’s I won’t go astray

With the tide out to sea, say you won’t let it be
Don’t let go . . . of the writer lest the boat never returns,
He only wanted to know if you truly could care
Oh no, he’s gone, but the bonfire still burns

You’re lit, girl, admit it, is this writer the igniter?
What have I wrought, woman, what have I done?
If you’re afraid to answer without equivocation
No worries, then share with me a setting sun

Just one, I implore, a chosen day this summer
I’m advancing my ask without further delay,
Pamper-Her-Friday on the shore with this writer, the igniter
Anticipation . . . we’re only a few sunsets away



Pamper the woman . . . before summer arrives. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®


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Posted by on May 13, 2016 in Pamper-Her-Friday


Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2® 310: ‘Au Revoir, Sonia’ A Love Letter

Woman with e-reader

Dear Sonia,

The irony of bumping into you after what now accounts for about half our lifetimes isn’t lost on me. To say that time has been kind to you grossly understates an obvious truth.

Our exchange was as brief as it was that time ago, but, as then, what wasn’t said dwarfs the power of what either of us ever uttered.

A woman of few words. A man of fewer words. Little has changed. We are who we were—only there’s a manuscript’s worth of untolds we’ve lived since. If I had begun to read yours, Sonia, it somehow ended at the second page, first sentence. The book was taken away seemingly moments after it was shared. I hadn’t dog-eared a single corner.

Was probably me.

That smile resurfaced like a college girl in grade school once again. It resurfaced across your artist-rendered face like an after-the-rain spectrum against a jealous sky. Every bit as luscious and fragrant and refreshing as successive decades ago.

Wine truly does enhance, doesn’t it?

Detroit, I remember. Yes, I do. And across the border my own origins are mapped. I recall: The strands of hair dangling like a partial veil over your eye as you scribbled for me in your driver’s seat. Like yesterday? No, more like yesterhour that moment ago.

Perhaps you wanted to know, to learn, a little more. Did you? I did. If only . . . .

Probably me.

An elder once said a man doesn’t know what he’s doing ‘til his fourth decade. The woman, he said, matures sooner—and therein lies her inherent advantage. I won’t argue that.

But what if she peaks too soon? No one ever posited that one to the sage.

You haven’t peaked prematurely. I’d say your unfolding is the result of near-perfect timing. So gracious has it been to you.

Congratulations on the recent milestone. Upon you it apparently wears well.

God keep you, Sonia.

Tender are my thoughts,



Pamper the woman . . . before she drives away. -Rg2

© 2016 Pamper-Her-Friday by Rg2®

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Posted by on May 6, 2016 in Pamper-Her-Friday

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