Every Good Boy Does Fine. That's about all I remember from taking piano lessons when I was little because my mom used to do my piano homework for me. I'm pretty sure there's a mnemonic device for the notes in between the treble clef but I can't for the life of me remember if I ever knew it. When I was supposed to be learning such tidbits I was instead out in the front yard getting pelted with rotten plums by my brother while my mom was inside filling in my music worksheets for me. To do this day I can't read music but I can play Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" by ear, The Time's "Ice Cream Castles," and a very crude rendition of Pachelbel Canon in D. Let me tell you, I was a hit at 6th grade boy/girl parties. Meanwhile my mom is a modern-day Liberace, glittering gemstones, pomade and all. I no longer have a plum tree in my front yard but I do have a Tivo'ed episode of The Real World: Hollywood on my queue. And I still want my mom to do my homework for me. So I thought of a new column I could install on this here blog: Ask Judy. Because the thing about my mom is she knows a little bit about everything. Gardening. Men. QVC. Softball. How to get away with a whopper of a lie and how to make a mean Hollandaise sauce from scratch. All at the same time, sometimes, while wearing shoulder pads and whistling a happy tune. And if she doesn't know the answer she still feels obligated to make one up. Most times it is pretty freaking believable, her answer, better than the truth. So please. I offer you my mother. Every Good Boy Does Fine But Every Naughty Woman Does Better. Ask Judy. And just because I know he'll probably feel left out even though he is most certainly the quieter of the two, ask my dad, too. Ask Ed. He can be the masculine sounding board, the straight man's point of view if you're looking for what a 65 year old writer might think. And if you're not, you should. My dad also knows a lot about a-whole-lotta: Buddhism and sewing, bungee cords, how best to pull the tusks from a dead elephant and how to make a toothpick holder out of one half of a Bic pen cartridge and some red nail polish. His responses will be a hell of a lot shorter than my mother's, but as his business card says, "Quality Since 1942."