IT’S SAD!

Many years ago when I was a student in college, we had an Art History class that began around 1 or 1:30 pm. My best friend Phil and I both attended the class, and usually when it was scheduled on a Friday, we would go to lunch to treat ourselves before class.

There was only one restaurant we would consider, and that was a place called Christiano’s Italian Restaurant in Syosset off of Jackson Avenue. The food was good, and the bread was plentiful. The bread was Phil’s passion, so we would go. Being a good Jewish fellow, he loved Italian food.

Once in the restaurant, a whole sliced loaf of the bread was swiftly brought out and Phil would deposit it into his deep coat pocket and then have the nerve to ask for more, which he always got! We would go back to class and he would pass me half the loaf and we would eat while discussion was going on about the Italian Renaissance or Picasso’s newest period. It was a tradition!

Last week I read that they are closing the restaurant down! It was a great little place and had been recently renovated, and so I was saddened to hear it. I hadn’t been there since college and frankly was surprised it was still in business.

Once we got into class, and Dr. Murray started his lecture, the lights would go out and the slides would begin. Out came the bread and the crumbs and all. This was plain, unbuttered bread that although delicious, was after a short while dry to the mouth. That didn’t stop us, just slowed us down a bit. You must admit there is nothing like fresh baked Italian bread.

But all that time, we drove Dr. Murray crazy, because he could never put his finger on what was happening, but he was sure that something was! We might be halfway through the long afternoon of lecture when he would suddenly put on the lights and scan the room, but he never, ever caught us eating since the bread sat in our laps under the desktop.

The funny thing was all he had to do was check the floor, and under our seats would be crumbs, maybe even enough to coat a whole plate of veal parmagiana, if he was crafty enough. He could never catch us because we sat at the far corner in the back of the room, and the light switch was at the front of the room, next to the screen. If he moved, we knew what to do.

And so another memory of the past is fading away, just like I am. There are no little kids around, no playmates, and now one more of the places I used to frequent is going the way of the dinosaurs! Sad.

FIRST RATE FIRST GRADER

Recently a high school classmate posted on Face Book a picture of children back in the 50’s standing in a classroom saluting the flag. If you were around then: that is what you did every morning. If you were doing time in a Catholic school, prayers followed that routine.

In first grade I had a very old teacher named Miss Langon, who ruled with a iron fist, AND a wooden ruler, which she liberally used to correct equations I tried to submit, by whacking me across the hands. Corporal punishment was in vogue in those days and so teachers were not afraid to use it.

One of the things the old girl liked to do was call attention to those being reprimanded, punished or scolded, and whichever one you chose, I was your boy. If she caught you first thing in the morning, before the day even started, she would haul you up front of the class and hand you the flag. You would stand in front of the classroom and hold it up for your classmates to salute. I felt like a 4-star general, it seemed an awful lot of mornings I was being saluted; the trouble was I felt like an unhappy general. The tears were streaming down my face and the fact that I got caught was too much to bear.

Once the old gal accused me of talking in class, even though I didn’t and sent me to the wardrobe room and closed the doors on me! I was mad, and decided to strike back! On the shelf running the length of the closet, or shall I say my cell, was a shelf stocked with writing paper. I opened one package and began to crumple up the paper and stuff all the pockets of the kid’s coats. As the noon bell rang in the hallway, I was released and we put on our coats to march off to lunch. In those days you could go home to lunch, but had to be back at 1:00 pm promptly. As the kids put on their coats, they discovered the paper and the look of bewilderment crossed so many faces that day I never ever forgot it.

It seemed that the school in those days was very punitive and unforgiving until the punishment was meted out, then: you started with a clean slate. It seems my slate had a haze to it from erasing it so much!

TIME TO BEAT THE DRUM ONCE MORE!

Where has all the time gone? It seems like it was only yesterday that I put on my Chinos and button down shirt (it even had on in the back on the collar). Gathered all my homework, books and clean gym uniform, teased one or all of my sisters and headed out to the bus stop.  It was there that I made my first contact with schoolmates and started the day.

BHS Class of 1964 50th Reunion Site

49 years later I look about and realize it will be 50 years since I graduated from high school, time to meet once again, this time in the back of a Volkswagon, there are so few of us, to plan a reunion. 49 years ago, if I met in the back of a Volkswagon I would not be planning a reunion, 49 years later I don’t remember why that is!

THE big event itself

The best part of the reunion the last time was the meetings planning it. We did nothing but laugh, making fun of each other and coming up with ideas while trading news. It seemed everyone in the room had a contribution to make and did, I hope we all do it again.

You can't stop these ladies from having a good time!

I’m hoping we can find something to do that is unique, something as they say: out of the box thinking. They were all smart people in the room the last time, so it shouldn’t be too hard.

A reunion in Florida

Hopefully, finding people will not be that hard this time out, since we have opened up the lines of communications already, and have had a couple of trips and what not together already.

Birthday parties

The last time we had a reunion we had a great time. In many ways I’m glad we had it for our 45^th reunion, since so many attended passed on since then.  There is a core of people that I hope will step forward and help out in bringing what’s left of us together to share more memories and maybe take time out to remember those no longer with us.

MR. PERFECT?

What's the scoop, Charlie?

First thing every morning, TLW (The Little Woman) will turn on the TV and have Channel 2 News on. The show has a local NYC and Long Island flavor before the CBS NEWS with Charlie Rose world news comes on. Judging from the bags under old Charlie’s eyes, he’s been up all night getting the news.

The first show used to until recently feature Rob Morrison as the anchor and his beautiful wife Ashley did the money news. Then suddenly Rob was making news instead of just reporting! Police say they saw red marks on Ashley Morrison's throat and heard Rob Morrison threaten to kill her, as they arrested him in a domestic dispute. Apparently he tells a different story and the tabloids seem to be happy to exploit it since it is the TV media with the black eye or red marks around the neck.

There is suspicion about what happened in that household, and it seems that Ashley delivered some punishment of her own, leaving Rob with a cut nose and bloody lip! The thing that troubles me is that he was fired from NBC and that was because he was cheating on Ashley and she blackmailed the whole bunch at NBC if they didn’t do something about the young intern involved.

Some time between the incident at NBC and recently, Ron Threatened to hurt his son if Ashley ever left him,

Rob Morrison is a handsome man, has a great history as a reporter, and the former marine has a beautiful wife and everything including a healthy child. His job is high profile and I’m sure interesting, he shares a beautiful home in Darien Connecticut, so how the heck can he throw it away?

The situation has taken hold in my house, because TLW and I are both fascinated by the whole ordeal and almost take it personally! We have been watching this morning newscast for a few years now, and seem to take the people on that show like old friends! The lead man suddenly makes news like that and: WOW! Suddenly they are humanized, they cross over the threshold of glamour and fame and suddenly are in a box labeled loser, BIG TIME!

Too bad

I actually feel bad for the family, the sanctity of married life is destroyed, their child will have to remember this and live with it for the rest of his young life, and everything about Morrison as the villain in this story is exposed, written about and speculated on, in a court of public opinion.

Is he guilty? I don’t know, but he is tarnished. The thing is I thought all along life was grand for him, then…

I guess there are risks when you choose a life of notoriety.

How sad!

WE’RE ALL GETTING OLD!

Visiting my mother the other day, sitting with us was my older sister Tessie (Much older) and the topic of conversation was getting old. Got me to thinking about how I feel sometimes when I feel my age.

Furinstance:

It’s a cold night, frigid and I get into the car. The car is always parked just outside the garage door, never having been in my garage. I get in and all the hairs on my goose bumps stand up and say hello. I pause and try to get used to the cold that is creeping all over my body.

I return home from a long ride on that very same frigid day or maybe night, and I turn off the car, now I have to move to get out of the comfort of the car into the cold! It seems the cold enters my clothes via the nape of my neck and just branches out as I attempt to step out of behind the steering wheel.

I am taking a pill, I look at it and think: this is easy to drop, I better be careful! I drop it.

I bend down to get the dropped pill, spoon, fork, pencil, or just name it, grab hold of it and while down there, drop it again, feeling like a Klutz.

I feel like watching a little TV while I eat a sandwich, after all, I’ve already read the newspapers and lunch usually doesn’t come with a cereal box. I turn on the set and there is a commercial, not one but enough to leave me wondering why I put on the damned thing to begin with.

I change the channel: more commercials!

I wake up from a great sleep, I am in a perfect position and it is soooo comfortable, I realize it is Monday, I force myself to get up to say goodbye to TLW (The Little Woman) who has to go to work. I think I’ll just go down say goodbye and have a cup of coffee before I do anything else. I look out the window and there it is: snow, all over her car, I have to clean it off! So much for comfort, I have to get dressed, put on the cold weather gear and start facing the frigid cold morning air!

I did some reading recently on the Internet and found out that people who go into another room and when they get there forget why they went! Apparently as you pass the door, it seems to compartmentalize your mind and close off the thought process that occurred in the first room. I don’t need a door, but it IS nice to blame it instead of getting old!

I’m cooking, and there is one little detail that needs to be done towards the end. Maybe adding some wine or even a simple thing like adding some water to the bottom of a pan, everything is going great and it looks great, but you forgot to do what you reminded yourself to do.

My favorite though is when I changed clothes to go out. My car doesn’t need a key to turn it on, just be on my person somewhere and I can unlock and start the car. I get dressed, go out to the car after locking the front door, and the car doesn’t open! I left the keys in the other pants, behind locked doors, along with my house and car keys!

I make a mental note to read an article about Alzheimer’s disease, but forgot!

I take solace in the fact that we are all getting old, but I seem to do it without grace!

GEE JETER

Maybe I should use a picture without that hat.

Being a Mets fan since their existence began, I have followed them and cried and died just about every season except three. I also hate the Yankees, a team that is always better than my Mets and everybody else for that matter, and because of their money and so much of it, they have the advantage of getting or buying the best players every season.

But… I really think there are some things to be said about the Yankees, mainly two words: Derrick Jeter.

Let’s face it folks, Jeter has been a perfect example of what happens when you do things right, when you dedicate yourself to doing your trade as best you can and that he has.

When you hear about and read about the many ballplayers who have used PED’s or steroids to enhance their performance, who spend untold money for an edge, then you see just how special men like Jeter are, and how much you have to appreciate his abilities, his dedication and class he brings not only to the game, but more importantly, himself.

Ah! Much better!

Let’s face the facts, that baseball with all the records and stats that it lives by, have to be questioned since players and cheaters like Barry Bonds and Mark McGuire and countless others have cheated and gone into the record books with these questionable numbers.

Recently there has been talk about Jeter retiring because he is getting too old, that he is slowing down, that his ability to move laterally has lessened. In his position as shortstop, that is important, and maybe I should be happy about that, but I’m not. I wish I could have seen Honus Wagner play, I wish I could have seen more of Pee Wee Reese play, and all the great shortstops that did turn the DP, but Jeter is still playing, and he is not only an all star, he is a certain Hall of Famer.

But what I think they should do with this guy is take his life, and use it as an example to young boys about how great you can be by working hard and dedicating yourself to your trade while avoiding drugs. Drugs have brought down too many super-stars and rightfully, many are being denied the Hall of Fame and should be, but drugs has also brought them one more thing: disgrace!

LIFE IS A ROLLERCOASTER

I went to visit my mother the other day, and came home very angry. I was angry because I felt that she wasn’t listening to me. I had discussed something with her and it seems like she didn’t hear it! It made me feel like I was wasting my time and that I have to now take over and do everything myself.

The more I thought about things, the angrier I became, to the point that I wanted to shout.

Then something started to happen, I calmed down and reason took over. I discovered I was the one that isn’t listening; I was the one that isn’t getting it!

Mom is 94; she is almost deaf and almost blind. She can hardly move and relies on all of us to do for her. She hates it and she resents our having to do it for her. She so desperately wants to be independent, to be her own person, to do for herself again. Her whole world is coming down around her, piece by piece, block by block, those she cared for by herself now need to care for her, and she feels like a child with her own children! She wants to cry. Little does she know I want to cry for her! I realize now that she is not Mom anymore, but my mother, the old lady who is growing older.

How the hell can I expect her to deal with her getting older, having her son take over her everyday business and finding it more difficult to live her life anymore? A how inconsiderate I am how foolish I must look, but I won’t dare look into the mirror. I hope God can forgive me this impatience and selfishness, and maybe I can get over myself and do what I need to do for her, with her dignity in place.

But like I said: she is the one telling me she is getting older, she is frightened, she is losing a battle she set out to fight when like all of us, she was born. And now in her closing days, her body betraying her, a certain sadness overtaking her, she needs us whether she likes it or not, we can’t abandon her with emotion and or guilt, but must take the same tender care she took when we were born. I guess the frustration of watching her grow even older is getting to me.

I THINK I’M CHEAP!

No, not inexpensive, frugal. I recently took stock of my stock of clothes, and found underwear that is older than me! I was reading the newspapers and there was an ad about men’s clothes that made me realize that I hadn’t bought myself any clothes in many years! I actually don’t spend much money on me and never have. Coming from a poor home as a child, I am used to making do, not being fashion conscious, except once in the early 70’s when I started to work professionally and was still single.

Once I got married, TLW (The Little Woman) bought my clothes and I never threw anything out. I saved all my ties and shirts and suits, pants and sweaters, socks and sneakers along with shoes. Ties you can get away with if you don’t have a conscience. 

Reddish orange is hopefully the new black!

Then one morning I had to go to a meeting that required a shirt and tie along with a sports jacket. I tried on a pair of trousers and thought TLW had hung up my son’s clothes in my closet, because it didn’t fit. So I took out another pair and sure enough, same thing. I got the message and so tried on a shirt, with the same results. Then I notice some familiar old stains and realized I had seen this ensemble before, many years ago! I figured I’d put on a sports jacket, my favorite blue blazer and oops! It didn’t fit! I hadn’t put on my “Favorite” blue blazer in so long I grew out of it.

I get new clothes for birthdays and Christmas, but I don‘t buy them. In fact, I am very good with shoes, wearing them to death and then storing them until I think I will need them again. TLW will ask why I still have them and I tell her, in case I need to paint the house, I don’t ruin a good pair of shoes. (Actually I should be painting in them: too!) This logic goes for old ripped jeans as well and while we are at it, shirts.

I’ve been actually thinking of buying a pair of new shoes for myself, nothing fussy, just an ordinary plain pair of black shoes that can trade off days with my plain ordinary brown shoes that are nothing fussy. Then I got to thinking: do I really need them? Do I want to have to get in the car and drive to a shoe store to buy shoes when I really don’ t need them? Besides, the black shoes I have on now are a part of me, having been there when I probably graduated college or got married. To be honest, I don’t really know how far back they go, but I think the US Dollar was on the gold standard still.

My wife seems to think I’m cheap on myself and I am, but I do save money for gifts for things like her birthdays, Valentine’s Day and Christmas, and don’t forget anniversaries.

But then I realized why I’m like I am, because I’m afraid that I’ll buy something that is not the right size, doesn’t look good on me, or makes me look skinny.

UPS OR REALLY: UPU

Talk about an incompetent company that seems to be driving the post office off the charts as the worst run company in America.

My lobster dinner via UPS never arrived on time. It seems the morons “mis sorted” the package that was supposed to be delivered on the 13^th, in time for Valentine’s Day, and will not deliver until maybe the 15^th! Maybe.

How can they be that stupid?  They have totally ruined the day and there is no way to even contact anyone that is working there! What should have been done was simple: give it to someone to deliver first thing in the morning. TWO WHOLE DAYS AND I LIVE LESS THAN 3 MILES FROM THE DISTRIBUTION CENTER!

Incompetence on wheels!

ANYONE WHO WANTS TO USE THESE MOPES IN THE BROWN TRUCKS SHOULD REALLY THINK TWICE. THERE IS NO NUMBER TO CALL, YOU CAN’T REACH THE INCOMPETENTS ON THEIR WEBSITE, AND if you want to read some interesting comments, you’ll be amazed at how incompetent they are to others. They insolated themselves with indifference and inefficiency. Stay away from that company, give your business to anyone else but them, they stink. There is the U.S. Postal Service, FedEx and others that will better serve you.

I could understand being 1 day late, but 2? How bad IS the management? That package should have been followed up and taken care off, not make matters worst. They’re lousy drivers, too.

So I waited for nothing and TLW (The Little Woman) returns from work and still no package for our lobster dinner. It is after 7 P.M. so even if it arrives, it is too late.

“Joe, I noticed coming home all the restaurants are jammed packed with waiting people, you want to order in Chinese?”

She does, we make our order and are told 40 minutes and we decide, as long as they don’t send it via UPS, we are ok. As she hangs up the receiver, out front is the brown truck, yup incompetence was running late.

THE BROWN TRUCK COMPANY

Main course!

A year ago last Christmas, TLW (The Little Woman) gave me a present of lobster dinners, that we both share. I ordered from a catalog and had some left over credit for another occasion other than our anniversary, when we shared it last. So for Valentines Day, we decided to order another dinner and went on the Internet to order. The order was placed and we were told to expect the order to arrive the day before Valentines Day. 

shrimp cocktail

That was Wednesday the 13^th, and sure enough, as Friday the 13^th arrived on a Wednesday, it never arrived. We have no reservations for dinner for the 14^th, no lobster in the freezer and no hope of being happy or fed.

Lobster bisque

We checked the website of UPS, the so-called carrier that has a tracking number, and it says the shipment is on the truck, having been checked in at 7:35 am on the 13^th and to expect delivery by the end of the day.

All day long we checked for the whereabouts of the shipment, and nothing doing, same story, no delivery but it is on the truck, or so they say!

We go to bed that night and I get up this next morning and look outside to see if they left it on my doorstep, and no, they didn’t. I check with TLW, and she says she checked the website and now they claim they left it behind, it was never on the truck! Do you think these morons will be delivering my package first thing this morning?

The thing weights 17 pounds, is not small and they now admit that they forgot to put it on the truck! If you see it, please let me know, and to the company: UPS-UP yours! Sorry folks, just a little anger.

SHE JUST KEEPS ON TICKING!

If you read the Long Island Newsday on February 13, then you read about the Brookhaven Town Supervisor Edward Romaine being away during the worst blizzard in years, and the mounting criticism from the public. Old Ed was in Jamaica sunning himself and did not need to shovel anything except the content of his excuses to the people who fumed about being snowed in almost a week after the big storm hit.

Mr. Romaine, without his nice tan

Now let us focus our attention to Highway Department acting superintendent Michael Murphy. Mr. Murphy, the fearless leader of the ‘Gang of Few’ who plow when they get a chance, was away during the blizzard, or at least not leading his men in a brave charge to stem the tide of defeat the Highway Department suffered from the storm.

When the storm hit on Friday, he stayed home, had a toothache, or so we were told. He did not return to work until the following Tuesday, to lead us all out of the mounds of snow that lay untouched by human machinery or shovel. Apparently a toothache is a: “Family emergency”, or toothache as he said, or someone.

Mr. Murphy was unavailable for a photo, due to a family emergency!

My God! This all sounds like a lack of leadership! Did I dare say that, a lack of leadership? Mr. Romaine stated: that the highway department is NOT his responsibility!  So, no one was around to lead and no one will take responsibility, and no one is worth a plug nickel. I have a solution.

TLW (The Little Woman) went to work on Monday and Tuesday, after driving home in Friday’s storm from work. She bravely left the house without my wanting her to, to fulfill her obligation at the Wanna-Be-Bank and Truss Co., helping people open accounts, close accounts and do their banking business. SHE was on the job, while Mr. Romaine relaxed under the Jamaican sun and Mr. Murphy nursed his tooth, (“family emergency”), I pity his family.

TLW with her staff!

Well, since TLW shows up and honors her commitments, it is only logical that the town put her in charge. She does get things done, is fiscally responsible, and has guts, something the aforementioned gentle men don't have. She takes a licking but just keeps on ticking!

I THINK I WANT TO HIT SOMEBODY!

As I write this it is Sunday morning, 2 days after the big blizzard. Yesterday was spent shoveling snow and having good neighbors come by and help out. It is a bad feeling knowing that you may not be able to hit the roads again for a few more days, but no one is sure. I don’t care how much snow you got, once it goes over 12 inches, it’s a burden! We have a very big burden in our driveway.

My backyard!

The foot hurts from an auto accident I was involved in many years ago and the pain is intensified from the cold, causing my ankle to stiffen, and hurt so bad it feels like someone stuck it with a knife! From shoveling, my chest gets this funny feeling because it was stapled together along the front, and whenever I do heavy lifting like snow, I can feel the chest cavity shift where the stapling was causing pain also.

So I decided to go outside and survey the situation since the plow came down last night, and TLW (The Little Woman) told me they had plowed it back into the driveway into a wall about 8 feet by 3 feet high sitting at the end of the driveway, all ice, and snow, water-logged into slush and very heavy, making it difficult to move.

I put on my winter stuff and go outside, looking at the footing in the driveway since the over night was frigid. It is all ice and treacherous, as I survey the surface. I walk down to the entrance of the driveway and stand on the plowed snow, look down the street and see this monstrous plow coming down the street on the other side of the road, pilling in the snow back onto the shoveled driveways!

As the plow moves ahead past me at about 30 to 40 mph, I look up into the cab and watch the driver, who knows what he is doing and just has this real happy face on. I know he is doing what is right, I know he is doing his job, and I know we need the street plowed. I still want to kill him! I know, I need to.

SHE NEVER CEASES TO AMAZE ME!

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On Saturday afternoon, right after the blizzard, my cell phone rang while TLW (The Little Woman) was on the phone talking to one of her sibs. It was #2 Son in his quest to find his mother. I didn’t recognize the phone number from the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Eh, how ya doin?” (Do you know what tuition cost these days?)

“Hi Mike!”

“You guys home?”

“Your mother is on the phone with someone.”

“Oh! Could you tell her to call this number when she is done?”

I write the number down and tell TLW when her call is over.

“Your son wants you to call him at this number, as I rattle off the phone number.

“Are you sure it’s 51 and not 61?” she asks.

“That is what I wrote down.” I respond with uncertainty.

“I have it as 61!”

“OK, use that one, I probably made a mistake.”

She dials her phone number and things go downhill.

“Hi, I’m calling for Michael?”

“I’m Michael, who’s this?”

“Michael’s Mom.”

“My mom is dead!”

“Oh! I’m sorry, I must have dialed the wrong number! “

The other party mentions where he lives and TLW says…

“Oh! I’m from the Ronkonkoma area! How did you do with the snow?” she says.  He responds and…

“Oh my goodness, really! Well thank you for letting me talk to you.”

Hanging up she says to me:

“You wanted me to do that right, be nice and not just hang up?”

“What time did you invite him for dinner?”

A HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY IT WAS!

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.”

-Anonymous

Dear Ellen,

Give me a flower, every time I think of you, and we will walk through that garden for an eternity. And each time you think you need me, I will hold that dear to my heart, because I know you love me in spite of my inadequacies.

I love you,

Joe

For over 41 years we have shared the best of times and the worst of times. We have dreamt and watch some dreams shattered, and some dreams grow beyond expectations! In it all we have managed to live our lives for one another. That is the key I think, to live for that other person you committed to for the rest of their life. What could be better than that? It is to hold hands forever, to anticipate a sweet kiss!

We have shared the greatest gift of love, our children, and our commitment to them says: I love you because we had these children out of love and a willingness to want to be together forever. It is a way to celebrate the future.

There is very little in life I need, I have it all, it is not money or a fancy car or even a big house, but that something special, being at home anywhere in the world she is. Home is where the heart resides, and that is in her being, her presence, and her love.

There are many women in this world who are beautiful and filled with love. All too often they will be hurt, and that is sad, because a woman is capable of great things, and the greatest is love. To betray a woman is to damn one’s own truth and sincerity. To abuse someone who is capable of loving you makes you less than a human, let alone a man. When you betray you cheat yourself, you have stopped loving and have stopped respecting the one who is devoted to you! How sad.

And so I look forward to the coming years, whatever moments we have left together, because they will be better than the ones past, because love grows and becomes deeper. There are many husbands out there I am sure that feel the same way I do: I don’t think I’m special in that regard, but I have to tell her every once in a while that I DO love her, and will tomorrow too. My wife doesn’t need to be told, I love her, she deserves it. Yesterday was a celebration of present love and tomorrow a pleasant dream of more.

We will share quiet dinners together, vacations and times alone, just the two of us, and we need not talk, just to be there will suffice.

I hope all you who read this have good feelings of love as I do, love has made me happy and grateful, and may yesterday’s expressions of love fill all of your tomorrows.

HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY

It’s that time of the year when we all get mushy and kissy faced. Yes that significant other is now in the spotlight once again.

We’ve been spending Valentines Day together for 42 years, and I recall the first one we spent as a newly married couple.

We were living in a small apartment on Munsell Road in East Patchogue, as she was pregnant with my daughter and I was working in NYC for an ad agency. Going home I had a bouquet of one dozen red roses (her favorite) and a box of Perugina Chocolates called Bacci, in means ‘kiss’ in Italian. This was my first married Valentine’s Day with TLW (The Little Woman) and I was eager to get home.

As I entered the apartment through the kitchen side door, I could smell her cooking, and the cold February night made the light from the kitchen and the wonderful smells, while being greeted by my beautiful wife all very inviting.

I immediately gave her the flowers and the candy, which she opened. Then she gave me my Valentine’s gift. A pair of boxer shorts with cash registers and hearts coming out of them and it said: “Love hits the jackpot!”

But the good news was that and I never forgot it when I get her chocolate candies is that she doesn’t care for chocolate candies!

She’s still beautiful and doesn’t like chocolate, so I always get her the best I can find!

CAUTION!

If you are a skier, and have one of those dopey stickers on your car that reads: “Pray for snow”, pray that I don’t catch you with a gun!

25” of snow have fallen between February 8, and February 9, AND it is still snowing!

Do you realize how high that is, and how much it will take to remove it?

Since it started, the news shows have nothing but mindless reporting of the same old thing, the pointless pointing out of hills and mounds of snow. It is 5:49 in the morning as I write this, and they are saying the good news is the snow coming down isn’t as heavy! I am so sick of seeing the reports I am enjoying the commercials!

Tonight I was supposed to go to a formal ball, called the Candlelight Ball, which was cancelled already because of Hurricane Sandy! It is a fund-raiser for developmentally disabled people.

My two cars are completely snowed in, the driveway is also, and the prospects that I will be done removing the snow by July look pretty slim, by the time you read this, I should be just clearing off the entranceway to the house. If anyone is looking for me, I’ll see you hopefully by July 4^th. 

A personal appeal to you!

There are people that need to work during storms because they are needed by the general public, cops, firemen, people that work in group homes and nurseries, looking to get to their own families, and unfortunately no one realizes how valuable they truly are, and should be given every chance at doing so. Then there are the sores and banks that keep their employees until regular closing time when they should have been allowed to go home before it became dangerous! There is NO reason to keep a store or bank open when no one is coming to do business and you are putting people at risk because you are greedy.

 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MISS AVA BEELER!

Miss Beeler is one of my favorite people in the whole world! Sitting with her grandpa Jim, a great guy with a wonderful family, and a fellow blogger.
http://jpantaleno.blogspot.com/

Granddaughter Ava has something to say too, so why don't you take a momnet and look her up.
http://www.avamarieb.blogspot.com/

STICKING IT OUT

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I woke up with a headache from sleeping awkwardly, one that will stay with me all day as I prepared to go for an Ultra-Sound to determine if there are any more stones in my kidneys.

This test requires that I drink 32 ounces of water and have it in me for at least one hour before the test.  Taking two bottles of Poland Springs water from the refrigerator, I start drinking. My test is scheduled for 8:00 am, so I don’t take my coffee or breakfast, and drink down the two bottles of water that I suppose is healthy first thing in the morning. It is disgusting! I need coffee to start my day!

The day promises to be a bad one, with a blizzard due in afternoon (Friday, February 8^th) and the weather already cranky with snow and rain mixing in and creating issues with traffic. So folks, we had bad weather, water without scotch in my system and no breakfast, plus a nagging headache. Fortunately seeing my wife in the morning was the only saving grace I had.

I arrive at the BAB lab (Big And Bad) early and have a book with me. I start t read and can’t concentrate at the beginning but suddenly find myself deep into it when “Honey” arrives. Honey is the receptionist, and has a rather large oral cavity for first thing in the morning! Shattering my calm, my serenity and peace, she starts on me.

“Why are you here, Honey?”

“A ultra sound, Sweetheart.”

She looks at me cross. (She started it.)

“Do you have a prescription Hon?”

“Here you go sweet.” Handing her the prescription.

“You’ll need paper work.” Handing me a clipboard and pen with a form on it.

I fill it out and hand it in and then as the first patient, scheduled for 8:00 am, I wait until 8:20 to be called! (And people wonder why I’m getting cranky.)

In I go and this middle-aged woman tells me to take off my shirt and lie down on the examining table, and to (once again) “open your belt and undo your pants.”

It seems lately whenever I go some place; I am opening my belt and lowering my pants! What the hell is this? Complying I wait for the torture to begin. She’s on schedule for that. As I lay next to a monitor, with a very elaborate keyboard, she takes out a probe that is about the size of a deodorant stick, flat and blunt, attached to a cable that leads to the keyboard and begins. Smearing me with a gel of some kind she sticks the probe into my chest and starts digging for gold, for over an hour! Deep, deep into my chest, scraping my spine she is so far in, then sticks it into my ribs with equal vengeance, all the time telling me to take a deep breath ad then when My head is about to explode, telling me to let it out.

So two new things are added to the mix of; no coffee yet, hunger, water without scotch, headache and lousy weather that I am worried about, and that is having to take a bodacious pee and pain from the probe! I start thinking about the Wendy’s that is located next door and the toilet, as she asks me to turn on my right side with my arm near my head. Now she tries to touch my left side ribs by digging through the right side, maybe having to move a few organs around to do so! And while we are at it, let’s turn over to the left side and see if we can put the organs back after touching the ribs form the right side?

“OK Mr. Del Bloggolo, go to the toilet and try to pass as much water as possible and return here and we will finish the test.” Hitching up the pants and bare-chested I go off to the toilet, return and one more stab and she is done!

I am so happy! I can now get the hell out of there and go eat and have some coffee, and please, NO WATER! I get out to my car and the rain and ice is now sleet, and then ice and then rain, not being able to make its mind up, I trudge to my breakfast.

There are better things I could do to spend a rainy, snowy and icy day. I could have stayed in bed, had breakfast, and even gone back to bed, or my favorite when I get these kinds of weather days: put the TV traffic channel on with a cup of coffee and enjoyed the poor souls do what I did all too often when I worked.

Getting home, I sat in my chair, put on the TV and watched a black and white movie, just like my mood!

JESUS CALLS THROUGH HIS SURROGATE

Every year TLW (The Little Woman) asks me to go to the church and take pictures of the many second grade classes learning about Jesus. There are usually 15 to 18 classes of kids depending how cold the winter was 7 years ago.

This year she was compelled to accompany me, and my un-Godly demeanor to introduce me to the new coordinator who runs the show, having never met me before, so I could begin to take pictures of the little angels, before they turn 13 and go sulk in their rooms and start doing the Devil’s work!

As you know, TLW has dedicated her life to reforming me, and getting me both healthy and close to God. Both those tasks are herculean and perhaps difficult at best, as I go along my merry way.

During the introduction to Jen, the coordinator, TLW says:

“Hi, this is my husband Joe, he will be taking the pictures for the poster of each of your classes!”

Jen: “Oh! I’m sorry that’s a lot to do! God bless you Joe. ”

TLW: “Oh, he needs it!”

Once again, God’s surrogate makes her statement.

YOU MAY ALREADY BE A WINNER!

But probably NOT!

I was looking in my emails a few months ago thinking that the Nigerians must get vacations because they hadn’t sent me any notifications of my email address being selected for millions of dollars. Then all of a sudden… you guessed it, more emails making me a billionaire. There were widows who were dying from cancer with huge bank accounts, bank officials that had unclaimed funds in there keeping and needed to get it away from the unscrupulous, and lucky lotto winners who want to give it to me. (Indeed)

Then to make me understand how true it all is, I got emails from FBI directors, and just doggone honest folk all wanting me to have these millions upon millions of USD, as they put it.

When I feel like it I will answer these requests for my info and give them a favorite ID, that of one Algonquin J. Calhoun, and along with as much personal info they think they can con out of me.

Then I got one from PCH informing me I won $1,000,000.00!

Now of course I worked at PCH, and know how they operate, honestly and truthfully in spite of some bad publicity they once experienced. They do come to your door and knock on it and with cameras, memorialize the event, and yes, people do win! Besides, one of my favorite people, Jan works there and is as honest as they come, and wouldn’t be otherwise.

Then recently in one of my winning emails, they asked for the same personal info and asked for a picture! A picture of me in this mix with a next of kin listed. This is all new to me and so I sent them one, because they asked for it, I want to continue to receive these obscene amounts of money, and frankly besides having the time, I like to think I’m loaded on something besides Jack Daniel Manhattans.

What do you think, does it look like me?