Two points to be made in areas of which I admittedly have no expertise:
I do not understand the tax proposals currently before the congress but of one thing I am sure: when the smoke clears, the middle and lower classes will be screwed and the top cats will get the gravy. No, I can't be specific except as stated herein. At that point, maybe the bloom will come off the rose--but it may be too late.
I don't like David Price for our Red Sox. Arrogance without knowledge. Ever since his entrance-defining row with our beloved Big Papi, it was clear that he would be a bad seed. His talent becomes immaterial in the context of his poison.
See you'all soon.
A happy and healthy Thanksgiving .
Monday, November 20, 2017
Thursday, October 26, 2017
MEGYN KELLY
EVERYTHING ABOUT HER YELLS "STAR."
SHE IS GENUINELY BEAUTIFUL, SMART AS A WHIP AND CONTRIBUTES 100% TO ANY CONVERSATION. SHE LIGHTS THINGS UP AND MAKES WHATEVER SHE IS DOING GO TO ZING FROM JUST VERY GOOD. HER EMPLOYER SHOULD GIVE HER FREE REIGN, STAND BACK AND BEHOLD A DIAMOND IN ITS MIDST. A TRUE ARTICLE OF EXCELLENCE.
THE REAL DEAL.
SHE IS GENUINELY BEAUTIFUL, SMART AS A WHIP AND CONTRIBUTES 100% TO ANY CONVERSATION. SHE LIGHTS THINGS UP AND MAKES WHATEVER SHE IS DOING GO TO ZING FROM JUST VERY GOOD. HER EMPLOYER SHOULD GIVE HER FREE REIGN, STAND BACK AND BEHOLD A DIAMOND IN ITS MIDST. A TRUE ARTICLE OF EXCELLENCE.
THE REAL DEAL.
Monday, October 16, 2017
FORTOLD REACTION
PLEASE SEE MY POST OF OCTOBER 7, 2017.
IT DOESN'T TAKE MUCH TO CHANGE THE STATUS QUO. ALL I WANT IS WHAT'S GOOD FOR THE COUNTRY.
STAY TUNED.
HE'S GOT SOMETHING.
IT DOESN'T TAKE MUCH TO CHANGE THE STATUS QUO. ALL I WANT IS WHAT'S GOOD FOR THE COUNTRY.
STAY TUNED.
HE'S GOT SOMETHING.
Sunday, October 8, 2017
THE FACE HAS IT
I have always relied on a man's face in order to determine whether his basic roots are good or bad. As a trial lawyer, I would study the face of the new judge before whom I was about to appear and could discern reason or caprice. Very rarely was I wrong. Goodness shines and is impossible to conceal. Arbitrariness has an evil glow all to itself.
Read the papers Watch the telly. It's all there.
Harvey Weinstein.
Read the papers Watch the telly. It's all there.
Harvey Weinstein.
Saturday, October 7, 2017
FORTELLING REACTION
"I'M NOT SURPRISED," WAS THE QUASI-DISMISSIVE RESPONSE BY TRUMP RE EINSTEIN. POTUS VERY SURE OF HIMSELF, LATELY.
I FEEL THISAWAY:
A PENDING CRISIS IS GOING TO ERUPT. POTUS, GUIDED BY TOUGH AND UNCOVERING ADVICE AND DIRECTION FROM EXPERIENCED AIDES, WILL RISE TO THE OCCASION AND RESPOND TRIUMPHANTLY.
JUST A FEELING I'VE GOT.
HOPE IT COMES TRUE.
LET'S SEE.
I FEEL THISAWAY:
A PENDING CRISIS IS GOING TO ERUPT. POTUS, GUIDED BY TOUGH AND UNCOVERING ADVICE AND DIRECTION FROM EXPERIENCED AIDES, WILL RISE TO THE OCCASION AND RESPOND TRIUMPHANTLY.
JUST A FEELING I'VE GOT.
HOPE IT COMES TRUE.
LET'S SEE.
Thursday, August 17, 2017
STEMMING FROM THE TOP
All of a sudden (it seems) terrorist attacks are occurring at people-gathering-spots in cities over the world. Too often to not in some way be connected.
Something new is infesting our streets. An alarm is sounding everywhere. These incidents are being ignited by an implicit driving force. Where's the spark coming from ?
There's an unhealthy atmosphere spreading over the world, appealing to and nurturing upon the bad basic instincts in men who harbor poison in their souls. Heretofore kept in check or restrained by covertness, something is transmitting to them a green light.
This cannot go unchecked. IT COMES FROM THE TOP.
Soon, political and judicial machinery will instigate corrective measures to abort the negative lode.
It abides in a house painted white.
Something new is infesting our streets. An alarm is sounding everywhere. These incidents are being ignited by an implicit driving force. Where's the spark coming from ?
There's an unhealthy atmosphere spreading over the world, appealing to and nurturing upon the bad basic instincts in men who harbor poison in their souls. Heretofore kept in check or restrained by covertness, something is transmitting to them a green light.
This cannot go unchecked. IT COMES FROM THE TOP.
Soon, political and judicial machinery will instigate corrective measures to abort the negative lode.
It abides in a house painted white.
Sunday, August 13, 2017
BITING HIS NOSE TO SPITE HIS FACE
Doesn't Potus realize that those responsible for the shameful misconduct in Virginia are HIS PEOPLE, HIS BASE. His remarks lump all those present at the "rally" as one misguided group. Not so. The instigators of violence are those who chanted "lock her up" all through the campaign. Trump's election has understandably emboldened them because their man won and all they're doing is spreading his mantra wherever it lands.
This is serious stuff. With the exception of the Iraq war, predicated upon WMD WHICH DIDN'T EXIST, no other Potus has been so reckless in referencing the start of nuclear confrontation. Does he not realize that these nuclear weapons have not been purchased from TOY'S ARE US and are therefore not his to play with?
Trump is in over his head--way over. Is he surrounded by people who have the knowledge and the COURAGE AND THE SUPPORT to watch Potus closely and to step up and in to physically restrain Potus should his unbalanced chromosomes cause him to play with the wrong toy in an attempt to quell a perceived threat?
Present circumstances mandate his being watched and monitored as he becomes Billy The Kid and begins to shoot recklessly, thereby inviting the worst scenario. Potus must be supervised by men smarter than him and with the power to stop him when necessary. The after-the-fact judicial review would come after the crisis had subsided and the world is in a safer position.
There are good people out there, ready to interpret and enforce the rule of law to which we are all subservient. That will come, as the pieces are picked up and put away.
The Black Box must be in safer, saner hands--ASAP--so that a sense of calm order returns to its usual seat and the world's sleep rate returns to normalcy.
As many prophesied, Trump will bring himself down if he is appropriately guided.
Maybe he could be appointed Director of WHITE HOUSE FAMILY AFFAIRS AT WHICH HE PRESIDES OVER HIS FAMILY'S DISPUTES AMD REPORTS ONLY TO HIMSELF.
I mean--look--how could he hurt the national interest from that post? The only membership requirement is that you be a family member through natural propagation or adoption or by rules promulgated by THE DIRECTOR.
This is serious stuff. With the exception of the Iraq war, predicated upon WMD WHICH DIDN'T EXIST, no other Potus has been so reckless in referencing the start of nuclear confrontation. Does he not realize that these nuclear weapons have not been purchased from TOY'S ARE US and are therefore not his to play with?
Trump is in over his head--way over. Is he surrounded by people who have the knowledge and the COURAGE AND THE SUPPORT to watch Potus closely and to step up and in to physically restrain Potus should his unbalanced chromosomes cause him to play with the wrong toy in an attempt to quell a perceived threat?
Present circumstances mandate his being watched and monitored as he becomes Billy The Kid and begins to shoot recklessly, thereby inviting the worst scenario. Potus must be supervised by men smarter than him and with the power to stop him when necessary. The after-the-fact judicial review would come after the crisis had subsided and the world is in a safer position.
There are good people out there, ready to interpret and enforce the rule of law to which we are all subservient. That will come, as the pieces are picked up and put away.
The Black Box must be in safer, saner hands--ASAP--so that a sense of calm order returns to its usual seat and the world's sleep rate returns to normalcy.
As many prophesied, Trump will bring himself down if he is appropriately guided.
Maybe he could be appointed Director of WHITE HOUSE FAMILY AFFAIRS AT WHICH HE PRESIDES OVER HIS FAMILY'S DISPUTES AMD REPORTS ONLY TO HIMSELF.
I mean--look--how could he hurt the national interest from that post? The only membership requirement is that you be a family member through natural propagation or adoption or by rules promulgated by THE DIRECTOR.
Sunday, August 6, 2017
1941 DEJA VU
Sanctions against North Korea are being ratcheted up in retaliation for that country's nuclear ambitions.
Let's be careful. North Korea's man at the helm is a certified cuckoo who cannot be expected to react in anything approaching reasonably expected conduct.
Hearken back to 1941. Japan's Pearl Harbor attack was blamed, in part, on the economic sanctions promulgated by the U.S. which were deemed to be suffocatingly unreasonable.
Let's make sure to evaluate all potential nutcake moves that N.K. might grasp at.
There are no men of sound mind at play here.
Let's be careful. North Korea's man at the helm is a certified cuckoo who cannot be expected to react in anything approaching reasonably expected conduct.
Hearken back to 1941. Japan's Pearl Harbor attack was blamed, in part, on the economic sanctions promulgated by the U.S. which were deemed to be suffocatingly unreasonable.
Let's make sure to evaluate all potential nutcake moves that N.K. might grasp at.
There are no men of sound mind at play here.
THE NAME OF THE GAME
I WAS THREE MONTHS SHY OF BEING THIRTEEN. MY DAD WAS A SALESMAN IN THE DREGS OF MEAN AND LEAN TIMES. FOOD AND CLOTHING WERE NOT AUTOMATIC EASY-TO-COME-BY STAPLES. WHAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN REGULAR ITEMS WERE NOW IN THE LUXURY POCKET. MY DAD WOULD COME HOME AT THE END OF EACH WORKDAY WITH LESS IN HIS POCKET THAN IN THE MORNING.
ONE NIGHT, MY UNCLE APPEARED WITH A LONG FACE AND STILTED SPEECH AND HE WENT HEAD TO HEAD WITH MY DAD IN A CORNER OF WHAT WAS SERVING AS A "LIVING ROOM". I MANAGED TO SL
IDE ONTO A UNFOLDED, UNNOTICED BRIDGE-CHAIR.
AFTER SOME SHORT AND VERY AWKWARD SMALL TALK, MY UNCLE PRODUCED FROM HIS POCKET A FOLDED $50 BILL AND PUT IT IN MY DAD'S HAND. "THIS IS ALL I .
CAN DO".
MY DAD SAID NOTHING. JUST LOOKED AT THE BILL FOR AGONIZING SECONDS AND THEN SUDDENLY BURST INTO TEARS WHICH WERE FULL OF PAIN AND ANGUISH AND WOE. NO WORDS WERE NECESSARY. MY UNCLE FOLLOWED SUIT AS I WITNESSED TWO GROWN MEN CRYING INCONSOLABLY. YOUNG AS I WAS, WHAT WAS HAPPENING WAS AN EASILY DECIPHERABLE PLATEAU OF MISERY.
I HAD NEVER SEEN MY DAD CRY BEFORE, WITH SOBS THAT SEEMED TO WRACK HIS SOUL. THANKFULLY, I NEVER DID AGAIN FOR THAT TABLEAU MADE A LASTING IMPRINT.
THE TWO BOTTOM LINES IN LIFE: HEALTH AND FINANCIAL SECURITY. THE FIRST NOT ENTIRELY WITHIN ONE'S CONTROL; THE SECOND BUILT UPON SMARTS AND GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LUCK.
ADD ON: THE ABILITY TO TAKE AND RIDE WITH A PUNCH.
GOOD THINGS DO NOT ALWAYS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE.
ONE NIGHT, MY UNCLE APPEARED WITH A LONG FACE AND STILTED SPEECH AND HE WENT HEAD TO HEAD WITH MY DAD IN A CORNER OF WHAT WAS SERVING AS A "LIVING ROOM". I MANAGED TO SL
IDE ONTO A UNFOLDED, UNNOTICED BRIDGE-CHAIR.
AFTER SOME SHORT AND VERY AWKWARD SMALL TALK, MY UNCLE PRODUCED FROM HIS POCKET A FOLDED $50 BILL AND PUT IT IN MY DAD'S HAND. "THIS IS ALL I .
CAN DO".
MY DAD SAID NOTHING. JUST LOOKED AT THE BILL FOR AGONIZING SECONDS AND THEN SUDDENLY BURST INTO TEARS WHICH WERE FULL OF PAIN AND ANGUISH AND WOE. NO WORDS WERE NECESSARY. MY UNCLE FOLLOWED SUIT AS I WITNESSED TWO GROWN MEN CRYING INCONSOLABLY. YOUNG AS I WAS, WHAT WAS HAPPENING WAS AN EASILY DECIPHERABLE PLATEAU OF MISERY.
I HAD NEVER SEEN MY DAD CRY BEFORE, WITH SOBS THAT SEEMED TO WRACK HIS SOUL. THANKFULLY, I NEVER DID AGAIN FOR THAT TABLEAU MADE A LASTING IMPRINT.
THE TWO BOTTOM LINES IN LIFE: HEALTH AND FINANCIAL SECURITY. THE FIRST NOT ENTIRELY WITHIN ONE'S CONTROL; THE SECOND BUILT UPON SMARTS AND GOOD OLD-FASHIONED LUCK.
ADD ON: THE ABILITY TO TAKE AND RIDE WITH A PUNCH.
GOOD THINGS DO NOT ALWAYS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE.
Thursday, August 3, 2017
LOOK WHO'S AT THE HELMS
I'M FRIGHTENED.
THAT'S NOT EXACTLY GROUNDSHAKING, GIVEN THE LIMITED, AND CONSISTENTLY DECLINING BRAINPOWER THAT I POSSESS. IT IS, HOWEVER, A VOTE BY ONE PEAPOD IN REGISTERING SINCERE ALARM AT LOOK WHO'SE DRIVING THE BUS THESE DAYS.
IF WE'RE NOT LIVING A DREAM, THEN WE OUGHTABEE. JUST HARK AT WHAT'S GOING ON.
OUR COUNTRY IS IMMERSED IN CHAOS. THE HERETOFORE VENERABLE WEST WING RESEMBLES A HALLOWEEN MUSEUM DESIGNED TO SCARE YOU WITH EVERY STEP YOU TAKE. NOBODY HAS A COMPASS. STAFF PEOPLE COME AND GO WITH PRAISE FOLLOWED BY DAMNATION. NIECES AND NEPHEWS ADVISE UNCLE SAM WHOSE FAVORITE CIRCUS ACT ARE THE CLOWNS.
THE WORLD AWAITS THE RESULT OF THE ULTIMATE CONTEST: ON ONE SIDE OF THE ARENA SITS A JOLLY ROUND ROLLY-POLLY WHO SPORTS A PENITENTIARY HAIRCUT WHICH USUALLY SIGNIFIES A WALK TO THE CHAIR AND WHO CLAPS HIS HANDS WITH GLEE WHEN HE IS AFFORDED ANOTHER HELPING OF COTTON CANDY. HE INVITES LAUGHTER EXCEPT FOR THE MEANIES WHO SURROUND HIM WITH MISSILES AT THE READY.
AT THE OTHER END OF THIS NUTHOUSE ARENA IS OUR BOY WHOM WE HAVE ELECTED TO SAVE AND PROTECT US. HIS BOOSTING THE ECONOMY IS DEMONSTRATED BY THE LIGHTENING-STRIKE MARKET JUMP IN ALL STOCKS WHICH TAN YOUR SKIN AND HAIR IN VARIOUS DEGREES OF ORANGE. WHY SHOULD HE BE UNSETTLED AT HIS ADVERSARY'S RATTLING OF NUCLEAR MISSILES WHEN HE'S GOT THE START OF WORLD WAR 111 UP HIS SLEEVE?
NEVERTHELESS, I CLING TO THE HOPE THAT THERE'S ENOUGH GAS IN THE TANK OF REASONABLENESS SO AS TO ALLOW THE JUDICIAL PROCESS TO MANIFEST ITSELF.
ROBERT MUELLER IS NOT ASLEEP. HE'S HARD AT WORK GATHERING EVIDENCE SUFFICIENT TO WARRANT IMPEACHMENT OR RESIGNATION PROCEEDINGS, ALL IN TIME FOR THE SHIP TO RIGHT ITSELF---AGAIN---AND PEOPLE WILL USE THEIR HEADS TO THINK WITH, NOT TO WALK ON.
PLEASE, LET SENATOR MCCAIN BE AROUND TO SEE THIS HAPPEN.
AMEN.
THAT'S NOT EXACTLY GROUNDSHAKING, GIVEN THE LIMITED, AND CONSISTENTLY DECLINING BRAINPOWER THAT I POSSESS. IT IS, HOWEVER, A VOTE BY ONE PEAPOD IN REGISTERING SINCERE ALARM AT LOOK WHO'SE DRIVING THE BUS THESE DAYS.
IF WE'RE NOT LIVING A DREAM, THEN WE OUGHTABEE. JUST HARK AT WHAT'S GOING ON.
OUR COUNTRY IS IMMERSED IN CHAOS. THE HERETOFORE VENERABLE WEST WING RESEMBLES A HALLOWEEN MUSEUM DESIGNED TO SCARE YOU WITH EVERY STEP YOU TAKE. NOBODY HAS A COMPASS. STAFF PEOPLE COME AND GO WITH PRAISE FOLLOWED BY DAMNATION. NIECES AND NEPHEWS ADVISE UNCLE SAM WHOSE FAVORITE CIRCUS ACT ARE THE CLOWNS.
THE WORLD AWAITS THE RESULT OF THE ULTIMATE CONTEST: ON ONE SIDE OF THE ARENA SITS A JOLLY ROUND ROLLY-POLLY WHO SPORTS A PENITENTIARY HAIRCUT WHICH USUALLY SIGNIFIES A WALK TO THE CHAIR AND WHO CLAPS HIS HANDS WITH GLEE WHEN HE IS AFFORDED ANOTHER HELPING OF COTTON CANDY. HE INVITES LAUGHTER EXCEPT FOR THE MEANIES WHO SURROUND HIM WITH MISSILES AT THE READY.
AT THE OTHER END OF THIS NUTHOUSE ARENA IS OUR BOY WHOM WE HAVE ELECTED TO SAVE AND PROTECT US. HIS BOOSTING THE ECONOMY IS DEMONSTRATED BY THE LIGHTENING-STRIKE MARKET JUMP IN ALL STOCKS WHICH TAN YOUR SKIN AND HAIR IN VARIOUS DEGREES OF ORANGE. WHY SHOULD HE BE UNSETTLED AT HIS ADVERSARY'S RATTLING OF NUCLEAR MISSILES WHEN HE'S GOT THE START OF WORLD WAR 111 UP HIS SLEEVE?
NEVERTHELESS, I CLING TO THE HOPE THAT THERE'S ENOUGH GAS IN THE TANK OF REASONABLENESS SO AS TO ALLOW THE JUDICIAL PROCESS TO MANIFEST ITSELF.
ROBERT MUELLER IS NOT ASLEEP. HE'S HARD AT WORK GATHERING EVIDENCE SUFFICIENT TO WARRANT IMPEACHMENT OR RESIGNATION PROCEEDINGS, ALL IN TIME FOR THE SHIP TO RIGHT ITSELF---AGAIN---AND PEOPLE WILL USE THEIR HEADS TO THINK WITH, NOT TO WALK ON.
PLEASE, LET SENATOR MCCAIN BE AROUND TO SEE THIS HAPPEN.
AMEN.
Tuesday, July 18, 2017
THE NEED
When you begin a visit with your main doctor-man, you often wonder why he always inquires as to your mental health. Ho-hum, ho-hum.
You were young then and full of piss and vinegar, rarin' to go, penis at the ready. The thought that you could sometimes finish a day by inundating yourself with penetrating questions which mandated that you go back in time--way back--and relive the crucial moments of your life and ask "what if"a different move on your part could have--would have--resulted in a different ballgame for you. No regrets, necessarily, just a reconsideration of what might have been if fate had dealt you other cards.
You've had a good ride and that's what makes looking back and going back in a different direction at the crossroads reveals oh' what could have been with just a twist of the dial.
Innocent second-guessing is all except for a tinge of who knows how taking another turn could have altered my life. And would this alteration have been good? Does good mean better?
This exercise is tricky and slightly dangerous because it tempts you to relive your life into the might-have-been-world where, sitting in your looking-back chair, anything can happen and oh, where would you be now if-if-if?
Because, let's face it--when moods like this descend upon you, the move you didn't make seems to always turn the neighbor's grass greener.
Yes, you miss the action, the spotlight, the newspaper headlines, the juice that filled you up, the drinks that warmed your soul and assured you that this was your time and you were the king.
And maybe that's why these journeys into the past are thrilling but not to be taken lightly.
This is serious stuff because it emphasizes the need for inner strength, the need for self confidence, and, always, the need for friendship loaded with warm memories.
And, most of all,--most of all--MOST OF ALL--,the need for love, real and imagined (had you gone the other way,dig?)
THE NEED FOR A PAT ON THE BACK, THE NEED FOR A CONSOLATORY EMISSARY FROM THE PAST OF EVERYTHING, AND, MOST OF ALL, THE NEED FOR LOVE.
MOST OF ALL, THE NEED FOR LOVE.
WHAT YOU'VE GOT LEFT ON THE ROAD TO BE STILL TRAVELLED HAS JUST DOUBLED, AT LEAST.
SLEEP HAS BECOME A COOL THING AS YOU BEGIN TO LOOK FORWARD TO THE SUNRISE.
AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW?
THE HIGH-TEST IN YOUR GASOLINE IS LOVE.
THE NEED FOR LOVE.
So, get up from your beloved chair and stop wrestling with karma. Tis another day and you're in the race to control it. You're in the select class of being able to walk around in your 80's. That's because, like it or not, you're getting enough, at least enough, of your oxygen, of love coming your way.
And there's more to come.
The light is still on green.
You're still a player. And lucky at that.
You're getting what you need.
You were young then and full of piss and vinegar, rarin' to go, penis at the ready. The thought that you could sometimes finish a day by inundating yourself with penetrating questions which mandated that you go back in time--way back--and relive the crucial moments of your life and ask "what if"a different move on your part could have--would have--resulted in a different ballgame for you. No regrets, necessarily, just a reconsideration of what might have been if fate had dealt you other cards.
You've had a good ride and that's what makes looking back and going back in a different direction at the crossroads reveals oh' what could have been with just a twist of the dial.
Innocent second-guessing is all except for a tinge of who knows how taking another turn could have altered my life. And would this alteration have been good? Does good mean better?
This exercise is tricky and slightly dangerous because it tempts you to relive your life into the might-have-been-world where, sitting in your looking-back chair, anything can happen and oh, where would you be now if-if-if?
Because, let's face it--when moods like this descend upon you, the move you didn't make seems to always turn the neighbor's grass greener.
Yes, you miss the action, the spotlight, the newspaper headlines, the juice that filled you up, the drinks that warmed your soul and assured you that this was your time and you were the king.
And maybe that's why these journeys into the past are thrilling but not to be taken lightly.
This is serious stuff because it emphasizes the need for inner strength, the need for self confidence, and, always, the need for friendship loaded with warm memories.
And, most of all,--most of all--MOST OF ALL--,the need for love, real and imagined (had you gone the other way,dig?)
THE NEED FOR A PAT ON THE BACK, THE NEED FOR A CONSOLATORY EMISSARY FROM THE PAST OF EVERYTHING, AND, MOST OF ALL, THE NEED FOR LOVE.
MOST OF ALL, THE NEED FOR LOVE.
WHAT YOU'VE GOT LEFT ON THE ROAD TO BE STILL TRAVELLED HAS JUST DOUBLED, AT LEAST.
SLEEP HAS BECOME A COOL THING AS YOU BEGIN TO LOOK FORWARD TO THE SUNRISE.
AND WHAT DO YOU KNOW?
THE HIGH-TEST IN YOUR GASOLINE IS LOVE.
THE NEED FOR LOVE.
So, get up from your beloved chair and stop wrestling with karma. Tis another day and you're in the race to control it. You're in the select class of being able to walk around in your 80's. That's because, like it or not, you're getting enough, at least enough, of your oxygen, of love coming your way.
And there's more to come.
The light is still on green.
You're still a player. And lucky at that.
You're getting what you need.
Thursday, July 13, 2017
REEL vs REAL
Triumph vs Sadness. Are these phenomena discoverable prior to reality, affording us the opportunity to accept or avoid ?
How long can passion be sustained? What happens when it dies? How does one go about finding it again? Should one even try?
Does a marriage with respect but without good sex have any reasonable life expectancy ? Or are we in the realm of oxymorons?
Great sex is a must--a marital minimum for the marriage to have any shot at all. Without it, the union is destined for doom.
Moments of passion are the indispensable keys. There are the big ones that make us soar to the heavens with abandon (like extraordinary sex, get it?) the kind that makes one's head spin and makes life seem worth living. And then there are the small ones that, even for just a moment, take your breath away: a perfectly prepared meal, a fine glass of wine that warms the insides the way it was meant to. Even a moment of tension, of suspense (as long as it all turns out all right and we live to tell the tale over and over again) takes you there.
Real life or what we experience vicariously in the movies--we're still dealing with kicks of emotion.
Good living. The occasional self-indulgent vacation. The infrequent expensive gift that makes no economic sense whatsoever. It feels good when one splurges.
Unfortunately, the meal ends, the glass of wine empties, the orgasm subsides and the bill shows up.
Most of us don't attempt to live our whole lives on clouds of euphoria, always looking for something bigger and better in life, never, ever satisfied. For most of us, the time comes when we settle into something deeper and more meaningful.
In the case of romance, it might be a relationship based on respect and admiration, common interests and shared history. If sex can last, more the better. The passion will probably dissipate.
We settle. Most of us do. It's not so bad, or at least not as bad as it sounds. It's easier that way. It makes more sense.
But, after 84 years and counting, take it from me:
AS DUSK TAKES OVER, AND YOU DERIVE THE EVER-WELCOME PLEASURE OF MEMORIES, THE THINGS YOU RELIVE, IN EXQUISITE DETAIL, ARE THE EPISODES INVOLVING YOU AND A WOMAN. THE MOMENTS WHEN THE BELLS RANG, THE LIGHTENING STRUCK AND YOUR WORLD EVOLVED AROUND BEING IN LOVE. THE WHOLE 9 YARDS. THE FIRST MEETING WHEN YOU EXPERIENCED THE MAGIC CHEMISTRY OF FALLING IN LOVE, THE HEARTACHE AND GLORIOUS RECONCILIATION SO THAT EVERYTHING FELT RIGHT AGAIN, AND YOU SKIPPED INSTEAD OF WALKED. YOU COULDN'T FORSEE HOW MANY TIMES THIS WOULD HAPPEN TO YOU. IT DIDN'T MATTER, AS LONG AS IT HAPPENED AT LEAST ONCE.
Oh, if you could go back in time, you would have done some things differently. But what a ride it was, and your heart was stronger for it.
Romance, sex, love--call it what you will. Movies magnify life. They help you remember. If you have no memories, you're in trouble.
And as I look back, it would have been a barren track if it wasn't for that old devil moon.
Don't be still, my heart.
How long can passion be sustained? What happens when it dies? How does one go about finding it again? Should one even try?
Does a marriage with respect but without good sex have any reasonable life expectancy ? Or are we in the realm of oxymorons?
Great sex is a must--a marital minimum for the marriage to have any shot at all. Without it, the union is destined for doom.
Moments of passion are the indispensable keys. There are the big ones that make us soar to the heavens with abandon (like extraordinary sex, get it?) the kind that makes one's head spin and makes life seem worth living. And then there are the small ones that, even for just a moment, take your breath away: a perfectly prepared meal, a fine glass of wine that warms the insides the way it was meant to. Even a moment of tension, of suspense (as long as it all turns out all right and we live to tell the tale over and over again) takes you there.
Real life or what we experience vicariously in the movies--we're still dealing with kicks of emotion.
Good living. The occasional self-indulgent vacation. The infrequent expensive gift that makes no economic sense whatsoever. It feels good when one splurges.
Unfortunately, the meal ends, the glass of wine empties, the orgasm subsides and the bill shows up.
Most of us don't attempt to live our whole lives on clouds of euphoria, always looking for something bigger and better in life, never, ever satisfied. For most of us, the time comes when we settle into something deeper and more meaningful.
In the case of romance, it might be a relationship based on respect and admiration, common interests and shared history. If sex can last, more the better. The passion will probably dissipate.
We settle. Most of us do. It's not so bad, or at least not as bad as it sounds. It's easier that way. It makes more sense.
But, after 84 years and counting, take it from me:
AS DUSK TAKES OVER, AND YOU DERIVE THE EVER-WELCOME PLEASURE OF MEMORIES, THE THINGS YOU RELIVE, IN EXQUISITE DETAIL, ARE THE EPISODES INVOLVING YOU AND A WOMAN. THE MOMENTS WHEN THE BELLS RANG, THE LIGHTENING STRUCK AND YOUR WORLD EVOLVED AROUND BEING IN LOVE. THE WHOLE 9 YARDS. THE FIRST MEETING WHEN YOU EXPERIENCED THE MAGIC CHEMISTRY OF FALLING IN LOVE, THE HEARTACHE AND GLORIOUS RECONCILIATION SO THAT EVERYTHING FELT RIGHT AGAIN, AND YOU SKIPPED INSTEAD OF WALKED. YOU COULDN'T FORSEE HOW MANY TIMES THIS WOULD HAPPEN TO YOU. IT DIDN'T MATTER, AS LONG AS IT HAPPENED AT LEAST ONCE.
Oh, if you could go back in time, you would have done some things differently. But what a ride it was, and your heart was stronger for it.
Romance, sex, love--call it what you will. Movies magnify life. They help you remember. If you have no memories, you're in trouble.
And as I look back, it would have been a barren track if it wasn't for that old devil moon.
Don't be still, my heart.
Tuesday, July 11, 2017
LEFT, RIGHT OR STRAIGHT AHEAD
Every life has more than one crossroad to travail. For some, the temptation to sit and quit is too formidable and they exit the race of life. Others give up to wherever fate has planned for them with their compass aimed at indifference. But a strong yet stubborn few grab what they have and turn it into the "consequence for potential" category.
They alchemize an exquisitely gentle but inherently determined sadness into gold. An inbred talent newly discovered but patiently waiting to be embraced as a positive factor in their lives.
They take a first grasp at the baton they are handed with the determination of making it important.
Somehow, some way, as the current flows by, a life preserver pulsates into your control, giving you another shot at everything. Change your gait from retaliation to capitulation. Try it. Got no choice. You do but you got no choice.
You have met people whom you will never get out of your system nor will she (the cover is blown) ever get you out of hers.
THAT'S LIFE.
Don't stop the world. You don't want to get off.
In the meantime, forget to remember.
They alchemize an exquisitely gentle but inherently determined sadness into gold. An inbred talent newly discovered but patiently waiting to be embraced as a positive factor in their lives.
They take a first grasp at the baton they are handed with the determination of making it important.
Somehow, some way, as the current flows by, a life preserver pulsates into your control, giving you another shot at everything. Change your gait from retaliation to capitulation. Try it. Got no choice. You do but you got no choice.
You have met people whom you will never get out of your system nor will she (the cover is blown) ever get you out of hers.
THAT'S LIFE.
Don't stop the world. You don't want to get off.
In the meantime, forget to remember.
Sunday, July 9, 2017
HE CHOKED AT THE SITDOWN
POTUS was speeding headlong into an inevitable crash. You can't buy toys at a mano a mano.
You first fill the air with bluster. Our leader is a cheerleader at a football game. But that's ok. The fans will soon forget that I ate my words and bit the bullet. I choked at the sit-down but its so much more fun to smile and laugh and have everything around you be so pretty.
After all, what's at stake here?
Just the whole friggin' world. As you walk away from the meeting, your rivals must muffle their handclaps and ask themselves,"do you believe what we just saw and heard? that's the leader of the free world!"
FDR--JFK--OBAMA--HWBUSH--CHURCHILL--AIN'T NO ROOM FOR CIRCUSMASTER?
What the hell? Ain't no fun being sad.
Can I please have more cotton candy?
His exit vehicle from Europe called for a barrel.
You first fill the air with bluster. Our leader is a cheerleader at a football game. But that's ok. The fans will soon forget that I ate my words and bit the bullet. I choked at the sit-down but its so much more fun to smile and laugh and have everything around you be so pretty.
After all, what's at stake here?
Just the whole friggin' world. As you walk away from the meeting, your rivals must muffle their handclaps and ask themselves,"do you believe what we just saw and heard? that's the leader of the free world!"
FDR--JFK--OBAMA--HWBUSH--CHURCHILL--AIN'T NO ROOM FOR CIRCUSMASTER?
What the hell? Ain't no fun being sad.
Can I please have more cotton candy?
His exit vehicle from Europe called for a barrel.
THE TRUE LOVE OF A SOULMATE
Can we all plan on meeting our soulmate? Is there one person--or maybe two, gotta give the creator some leeway here--who was made to fit right in, hand in glove, and provide the ultimate simpatico, the result being the perfect couple ?
I say "yes" and I believed that until now, as I begin my 84th year on earth. Now, I don't think so anymore. It can be a good run but immunization from defects, the key to it all, let me down with a thud, so I ain't a believer no more.
To claim my credentials, when I was in my early teens, 12 or 13, kids, even then, I would often say aloud, "wouldn't it be great to spend your life with a woman whom you madly love?" Even today, that sums it up for me, but it's unattainable I conclude.
You have a glorious pairing--bells, whistles, thunder and lightening--but, sooner or later, it falls apart---time being a factor, but an aggravating one. Keep in mind that I'm not referring to a 2-way street. This loosing one's footing more often knocks just one partner off the trail 'cause that's the way it is. My kind of love is all to itself. Peculiar and rarified stuff.
It comes slowly, at first. After all, this was a lifetime deal. The road downhill is a subtle sonovagun. Little things, an unguarded look here, a mask of disappointment there. These telltale signs mask years of suppressed negative frustration unbeknownst to you which makes them all the more painful to accept and deal with when that fateful fork in the road blocks the road to emotional recovery
The ferocious and maddening of the initial sex intimacies have long since faded but they have left love scars and scars are permanent. Where did I fuck up? Or did I fuck up ? There are 2 sets of hands in this mudpie, enough to easily accommodate more than 1 actor. So you sit and remember and follow the malicious intent trail. You're o.k. there. If anything, you win that ballgame because you are the romantic soul so she must be tougher, more in control of her emotional conduct. She was, in language and conduct completely inconsistent with the artistry of romance. As time has passed, you realize that you have been dealing with, and have been dealt by, a poker-faced mistress of ceremonies . Shove the convenient tears. Your hands are more than clean. Your being a softy doesn't always make you a winner. Your biggest problem is dealing with and getting over your problem.
What should you take away from all of this?
Don't ever forget that staying true to yourself is the toughest challenge of all because the soulmate propaganda comes out of the same factory whose product keeps our grasses green
When you look in the mirror, stand up straight. Don't look away. No need to. Being nice, through and through, will steer your ship quite nicely, thank you. Keep the verdict under wraps 'till the final curtain comes down.
It takes two to Tango or even to argue.
I say "yes" and I believed that until now, as I begin my 84th year on earth. Now, I don't think so anymore. It can be a good run but immunization from defects, the key to it all, let me down with a thud, so I ain't a believer no more.
To claim my credentials, when I was in my early teens, 12 or 13, kids, even then, I would often say aloud, "wouldn't it be great to spend your life with a woman whom you madly love?" Even today, that sums it up for me, but it's unattainable I conclude.
You have a glorious pairing--bells, whistles, thunder and lightening--but, sooner or later, it falls apart---time being a factor, but an aggravating one. Keep in mind that I'm not referring to a 2-way street. This loosing one's footing more often knocks just one partner off the trail 'cause that's the way it is. My kind of love is all to itself. Peculiar and rarified stuff.
It comes slowly, at first. After all, this was a lifetime deal. The road downhill is a subtle sonovagun. Little things, an unguarded look here, a mask of disappointment there. These telltale signs mask years of suppressed negative frustration unbeknownst to you which makes them all the more painful to accept and deal with when that fateful fork in the road blocks the road to emotional recovery
The ferocious and maddening of the initial sex intimacies have long since faded but they have left love scars and scars are permanent. Where did I fuck up? Or did I fuck up ? There are 2 sets of hands in this mudpie, enough to easily accommodate more than 1 actor. So you sit and remember and follow the malicious intent trail. You're o.k. there. If anything, you win that ballgame because you are the romantic soul so she must be tougher, more in control of her emotional conduct. She was, in language and conduct completely inconsistent with the artistry of romance. As time has passed, you realize that you have been dealing with, and have been dealt by, a poker-faced mistress of ceremonies . Shove the convenient tears. Your hands are more than clean. Your being a softy doesn't always make you a winner. Your biggest problem is dealing with and getting over your problem.
What should you take away from all of this?
Don't ever forget that staying true to yourself is the toughest challenge of all because the soulmate propaganda comes out of the same factory whose product keeps our grasses green
When you look in the mirror, stand up straight. Don't look away. No need to. Being nice, through and through, will steer your ship quite nicely, thank you. Keep the verdict under wraps 'till the final curtain comes down.
It takes two to Tango or even to argue.
Tuesday, June 20, 2017
BORN A SCHMUCK
I never was a good fighter. It's not that I was afraid---. Oh yes it was---I was afraid---plenty, Tonto. The trick was to somehow hide this yellow streak, which ran from my eyebrow to my pubic hair, from every living being on the planet.
Now, figure this out: for some reason, this crazy obsession worked its way in the reverse. That is, it brought trouble my way, causing frequent malfunctions of my bladder. Go figure, Sherlock!
Wake up, you'll---I'm going on with the story.
The scene :summer camp in New Hampshire-- a CO-ED camp-- and the gals were gorgeous. We were all in college so our ages were perfectly calibrated with the maximum performance capability of our respective sex organs. Stand back, you fool.
Each night, after we put the campers to bed, we would drive to a nearby motel which featured a cool lounge and Sinatra juke box. I love this country!!
In any conversation, the mention of the name WALLY would fetch the identical response: dread, fright, fear, horror, terror, impending doom, etc. etc. etc,,.. The reason for this was a human being in his mid-thirties, 6'6 feet tall whose body resembled the blended bodies of Superman, Batman and Mike Tyson, and whose face accurately reflected the destructive power the heavens had bestowed upon him. Wally was a killer. One story which had made the rounds had Wally sitting at the bar when a patron innocently asked if he could munch a few peanuts from the bowl resting at the killer's elbow. Wally did not answer with words. Instead, he established contact between his fist and the idiot--stranger's knuckles which were adorned in a cast for a substantial period of months.
In my group walked, seven guys, five ladies--and we began to leisurely drink. I adore this land!
Fifteen feet away from us, five burly men, saddling the breeze (look ma, I talk like a cowboy) and ordering a furious pace. They were all dressed alike: white t-shirts covering bulging yet menacing but rippling muscles, skin-tight jeans---can men sport musclebound assholes?--talking as if they were going to beat the shit out of who cares. Each one more curious than the other, except one who was more menacing then the others. The mother ship of bad mothers. He, unknown to most, was Wally.
As we imbibed, I noticed Wally kept staring at one of the ladies at our table, getting so intense that it could not be ignored. Our guys began to lose all semblance of manhood. It was awkward city. Something bad was brewin'!
And it was in that hell-about-to-explode cauldron, that I again announced to the world that I was the biggest putz of all.
I swigged on my drink, yelled for Shane to come back, stared Wally in the eye, and barked,"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LOOKING AT?"
Have you ever seen grown men squirm for cover? Drop from their chairs and try to get under the rug? Begin to cry out for "MUMMY?"
Not Wally, you haven't.
He rose to a standing position, looked at yours truly and icily pronounced,"WHATSAMATTER, KID, YA NERVOUS?"
I pissed in my pants.
"YA NERVOUS, KID?"
I shat myself.
Wally approached, his outreached fist enabling contact.
I'm not a praying man except for this time.
"SAVE THE TEETH, LORD, SAVE THE TEETH."
"ONE PUNCH TO CHANGE YOUR PRETTY FACE."
'THE TEETH, LORD, THE TEETH."
"YOU DON'T LIKE ME, I DON'T LIKE YOU"
The monster speaks, and the truth, yet.
"BUT THAT DON'T MEAN WE HAVE TO FIGHT ABOUT IT!!"
If I cover his fist with my mouth, will he smell the scent of surrender?
YES--HE DID! WE BECAME FRIENDS. HE BECAME MY PROTECTOR1
I KEPT MY TEETH AND VOWED IN THE FUTURE TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT.
NOBODY MESSED WITH ME FOR ALL THE SUMMERS TO COME.
OOPS', THERE'S WALLY! TICKETS FOR THE MOVIES. WE'LL BE LATE IF I DON'T HURRY.
BUT I AIN'T NERVOUS ANYMORE.
Now, figure this out: for some reason, this crazy obsession worked its way in the reverse. That is, it brought trouble my way, causing frequent malfunctions of my bladder. Go figure, Sherlock!
Wake up, you'll---I'm going on with the story.
The scene :summer camp in New Hampshire-- a CO-ED camp-- and the gals were gorgeous. We were all in college so our ages were perfectly calibrated with the maximum performance capability of our respective sex organs. Stand back, you fool.
Each night, after we put the campers to bed, we would drive to a nearby motel which featured a cool lounge and Sinatra juke box. I love this country!!
In any conversation, the mention of the name WALLY would fetch the identical response: dread, fright, fear, horror, terror, impending doom, etc. etc. etc,,.. The reason for this was a human being in his mid-thirties, 6'6 feet tall whose body resembled the blended bodies of Superman, Batman and Mike Tyson, and whose face accurately reflected the destructive power the heavens had bestowed upon him. Wally was a killer. One story which had made the rounds had Wally sitting at the bar when a patron innocently asked if he could munch a few peanuts from the bowl resting at the killer's elbow. Wally did not answer with words. Instead, he established contact between his fist and the idiot--stranger's knuckles which were adorned in a cast for a substantial period of months.
In my group walked, seven guys, five ladies--and we began to leisurely drink. I adore this land!
Fifteen feet away from us, five burly men, saddling the breeze (look ma, I talk like a cowboy) and ordering a furious pace. They were all dressed alike: white t-shirts covering bulging yet menacing but rippling muscles, skin-tight jeans---can men sport musclebound assholes?--talking as if they were going to beat the shit out of who cares. Each one more curious than the other, except one who was more menacing then the others. The mother ship of bad mothers. He, unknown to most, was Wally.
As we imbibed, I noticed Wally kept staring at one of the ladies at our table, getting so intense that it could not be ignored. Our guys began to lose all semblance of manhood. It was awkward city. Something bad was brewin'!
And it was in that hell-about-to-explode cauldron, that I again announced to the world that I was the biggest putz of all.
I swigged on my drink, yelled for Shane to come back, stared Wally in the eye, and barked,"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU LOOKING AT?"
Have you ever seen grown men squirm for cover? Drop from their chairs and try to get under the rug? Begin to cry out for "MUMMY?"
Not Wally, you haven't.
He rose to a standing position, looked at yours truly and icily pronounced,"WHATSAMATTER, KID, YA NERVOUS?"
I pissed in my pants.
"YA NERVOUS, KID?"
I shat myself.
Wally approached, his outreached fist enabling contact.
I'm not a praying man except for this time.
"SAVE THE TEETH, LORD, SAVE THE TEETH."
"ONE PUNCH TO CHANGE YOUR PRETTY FACE."
'THE TEETH, LORD, THE TEETH."
"YOU DON'T LIKE ME, I DON'T LIKE YOU"
The monster speaks, and the truth, yet.
"BUT THAT DON'T MEAN WE HAVE TO FIGHT ABOUT IT!!"
If I cover his fist with my mouth, will he smell the scent of surrender?
YES--HE DID! WE BECAME FRIENDS. HE BECAME MY PROTECTOR1
I KEPT MY TEETH AND VOWED IN THE FUTURE TO KEEP MY MOUTH SHUT.
NOBODY MESSED WITH ME FOR ALL THE SUMMERS TO COME.
OOPS', THERE'S WALLY! TICKETS FOR THE MOVIES. WE'LL BE LATE IF I DON'T HURRY.
BUT I AIN'T NERVOUS ANYMORE.
Even the name suggests a circus. "Captain Trump."
Only this guy ain't kiddin'.
Membership qualification is how low can you bow.
But there's something more nauseously at play here, a beckoning to all who carry an{ imagined }
inferiority complex as their cross t.o bear. There is an opportunity to ascend the ladder of physicality
and improve the way you look. NO SURGERY REQUIRED!
I'm talking, people, about a study of NOSES who get the ringside seats at important events. The noses of nobility.
The Prez has the face of a pig. Swollen-almost-shut-eyes,but there. in the middle of this hodgepodge, sits a not-so-bad-proboscis. The out of context little girl nose engulfed by a puffy overblown face.
No pins allowed near the Prez.
What gives with Melania, the first lady, and Ivanka, married to Jared?
NOSES DIVINE!
Only this guy ain't kiddin'.
Membership qualification is how low can you bow.
But there's something more nauseously at play here, a beckoning to all who carry an{ imagined }
inferiority complex as their cross t.o bear. There is an opportunity to ascend the ladder of physicality
and improve the way you look. NO SURGERY REQUIRED!
I'm talking, people, about a study of NOSES who get the ringside seats at important events. The noses of nobility.
The Prez has the face of a pig. Swollen-almost-shut-eyes,but there. in the middle of this hodgepodge, sits a not-so-bad-proboscis. The out of context little girl nose engulfed by a puffy overblown face.
No pins allowed near the Prez.
What gives with Melania, the first lady, and Ivanka, married to Jared?
NOSES DIVINE!
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