Saturday, February 28, 2015

WE ALL HAVE NEEDS


The country continues to deal with brutal weather. A group of teenagers in Colorado surprised their neighbors by shoveling 50 driveways and walkways for free. They didn't mean to. They were just too stoned to remember which house was theirs. 


Today is a bonus: the worst month we will experience this year is about to end, thanks to a few days cut off the calendar. I guess God decided that February is too much this year! It is the third coldest month of February ever, according to a weatherman on CBS.

Thank you GOD, I NEEDED THAT!

As you noticed, the price of gasoline went way down for a while here in the northeast. With the weather so bad, all that snow and deep freezing cold, the fuel gods decided that no one would go anywhere, so let’s lower the price and get them to drive! For a change, I needed that too!

With the start of spring training, I start to feel better about things. Winter is on its way out and hello spring! The beautiful weather is near, the pool will open and bar-b-q for everyone, and I need it!

Finally, I planned a trip to sunny Southern California in late March and that means La Principessa! I will see her sweet beautiful face and all will be well again as she celebrates her first birthday! Once again, I need that!





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Friday, February 27, 2015

IT’S A STEAL!


A burglar brakes into a home and starts to gather the items he wanted to steal. All of a sudden he hears, "Jesus is watching you!" He doesn't see anything in the dark, so he went on with what he was doing.
Once again he hears, "Jesus is watching you!" and now he really wonders who is saying that. He turns on the flashlight, scans the room, and finally sees a parrot.
"Did you say that?" asks the burglar.
"Yes," replies the parrot.
"What's your name?" the burglar enquires. "Moses," answers the parrot.
"That's a strange name for a parrot. Who named you that?"
"The same people who named their Rottweiler Jesus!"

He would have to die
One of the worst feelings a person can have is when someone breaks into their home and steals while they are away. The sense of anger, violation and helplessness prevails to the fullest, they worry that something is stolen that they don't realize and that the crook knows them and may strike again.

Calling the police is only good if they have insurance and need to claim, but after that nothing ever happens, usually the crook gets away with it.

Many years ago, when I was about 8 years old, I came home from school discovered our apartment had been broken into. A piece of my parent’s furniture was forced open and it was not anything but a façade. There happened to be someone in town that day by happenstance, and I to this day suspect that person. Mom was at a store my Dad ran and this person’s wife was visiting my Mother at the store which makes me convinced who it was, he was nowhere to be seen!

I entered the apartment and saw things were in disarray which I immediately realized my mother
I could make an exception
would never have left that way and even went deep into the apartment! As a child I guess I had no sense to get the hell out of there but I was just a kid.


Then years later, while working in the city, my company was broken into and someone must have had the keys for the office because the job was done cleanly. The thing that was stolen was a can of Maxwell House coffee from my shelf! Who would steal just a used can of coffee? There were other things stolen, but that was all they got out of my office. I of course was fit to be tied and seeking revenge, suspecting the whole night cleaning crew, who else could it be? That went unresolved too.

Now with alarm systems and cameras, one can identify the culprit or culprits, and will leave the sense of sweet revenge very tasty in my mouth, as I pursue their paying the price of their thievery. I am home most of the time so I watch out for strangers I see in the neighborhood, and watch then until they disappear. The same thing goes for any activity that seems out of whack in the hood. 

DelBloggolo stands guard!

 


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Thursday, February 26, 2015

BUTERA'S RESTAURANT OF SAYVILLE


Atheist: What's this fly doing in my soup?
Waiter: Praying.
Atheist: Very funny. I can't eat this. Take it back.
Waiter: You see? The fly's prayers were answered.

 

Every now and then I like to review a local restaurant that I visit, and the one most recently that impressed me was a place in Sayville, right off of Main Street.

After a afternoon of local theatre in Oakdale enjoying a production of: HOW TO SUCCEED IN BUSINESS WITHOUT REALLY TRYING along with a few friends, we all headed to Butera’s for a Sunday dinner.


Butera’s is located at 100 South Main Street, in Sayville, NY 11782. All major credit cards are accepted and the place has been around for a few years. This being my second visit, I left as happy as I did when I first visited it. The well appointed restaurant is a southern Italian style restaurant, known for its family style portions and delicious food, made just right and to your preference.The amazing thing is that the noise level in the crowded Sunday afternoon trade was very tolerable and comfortable, with no overhead music to interfere with conversation.

We shared a; spaghetti with white clam sauce, rigatoni ala vodka chicken Francais and calamari Fra Diavolo, along with a basic salad and a house wine, finishing things off with a Tartufo and an Amaretto soaked cake and almond ice cream with cream. All in all, the dishes were moderately priced and by their taste a bargain!

If you are ever in Sayville, looking to eat and eat well, then you should certainly give them a shot, but I suggest you make reservations first.


 


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Wednesday, February 25, 2015

I REMEMBER


A man told his friend: "My wife only has two complaints: nothing to wear and not enough closet space."

It seems that every year at this time we start to complain about the weather. The snow comes it seems everyday now, the sky is grey and the clouds seem to hang around forever.

About when I hit the snowbank
I remember my first introduction to snow, I must have been around three and my mother threw me out of the house telling my older sister to watch me. Should I wander off, and should my older sister start to look for me, to stop for a loaf of bread first and bring that home, she couldn’t look for me with her hands full.

It was on the sidewalk of Brooklyn, in front of my house, and the snow seemed to be piled up on the curb and cars that parked in front of the house. There was one mound of snow that sat in front of the alley next to my apartment, and it was there, with a large tablespoon that I presided. Sitting atop the mound the DOS left behind with their plows, is where I met my first friend, Anthony.

I wore leggings and boots, black rubber ones and a hat that covered my ears and of course gloves and coat. It was the first winter day I can recall, and of all the winter days since, that one still comes to mind.

By the time I was 5 years old, I had become a little more sophisticated and thus: clothes conscious! All the kids in my kindergarten and first grade class wore belts: I wore suspenders! God how I hated the suspender look, I felt like an oddball and complained one day in front of my Grandma Frances. From what I recall, Grandma Frances returned to the apartment that day with my first belt! I was absolutely ecstatic, no longer feeling like an odd ball!

The belt was fine and good but there was one other article of clothing I loathed and that was shorts. Summer shorts that you wore in the dead heat of summer, I hated. Why? Because in my mind, in Brooklyn, I thought I looked ‘sissified’ Once again, all my friends were wearing what we called ‘dungarees’ today’s version is called jeans, and I wanted jeans. I used to go to my grandmother’s house on Fulton Street in Brooklyn, and on her corner under the el was a store called Louie’s where they sold men and boy’s clothing. Hanging up in the store were row after row of Levi’s and I would fondle the jeans and imagine myself wearing them, with a cowboy hat and boots. I remember a belt, thick and black with a huge buckle adorned with filigree and made for jeans.
Filigree  

Today, I’m just happy to be wearing a pair of shorts in the summer and suspenders at a wedding. It was a lot of angst for nothing, called growing pains,






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Tuesday, February 24, 2015

OH, HOW MY HAIR HURTS!


Acronyms for fun and profit:

N.A.S.C.A.R. = Non-Athletic Sport Centered Around Rednecks

P.M.S. = Potential Murder Suspect

S.P.A.M. = Seriously, Poor Advertising Method!

T.W.I.T.T.E.R. = Thoughts Which I Think They Enjoy Reading

W.I.F.E. = Washing, Ironing, Feeding, Etc.

Being a member of a board of directors, it has its dangers. For one, the office sends me a packet for the board meeting that is scheduled every last Tuesday evening of the month. It generally begins at 6:30 pm and can last as much as 4 hours if we let it.

The so called ‘packet’ contains minutes, and copy of e-mails and copies of letters that someone sent to someone else, and with that come acronyms, lots and lots of acronyms. These acronyms and letters are designed to make my hair hurt and leave me on the verge of suicide. The nice thing is if I do kill myself, someone else has to read the memos and letters and figure out the acronyms.

Now you can read a letter from the OPWDD and that may have been sent to NYSARC, but maybe NYSDOH has gotten one yet and maybe the MSC has a bottle in his/her drawer to get him/her through the acronyms.

These packets are like the weather this month of February, I am getting snowed in and snowed under: it is so bad we need a two-sheet listing of acronyms!

Every meeting is started with a prayer:

“OH God, please don’t send me anymore acronyms, I can’t keep up with the ones on the sheets, and who knows what will happen if I lose the sheets? Of course my colleagues like I will forge ahead not knowing what the Hell they mean. Amen”

Now our leader of the agency, a short rotund man with a heavy lisp and peg leg likes to rattle off the acronyms like it’s his second language, and I once made up an acronym and he told me what it meant. He was right!

I no longer watch TV, and why you ask? Because I can’t watch ABC or NBC or CBS, and the radio, it’s worst! WABC, WCBS etc. you get where I’m going? Yes, to the liquor cabinet.





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Monday, February 23, 2015

MENDING A BROKEN HEART


Every now and then I like to lend you the reader a little glimpse of my life because along with the good there is always sadness, but the sadness helps to understand better the why we all need to live and live with some spirit.

Last week I entered a funeral parlor somewhat saddened that I had to be there. A very good man and great loving parent was grieving for his recent loss, and the feelings that go with the grief never ever leave you.

Did you ever have a plant that needed help to grow, and you spend a lot of time and effort to nurture the plant, only in the end have it die on you. There is a certain feeling of let down, defeat, even sadness. Now multiply that feeling a hundred fold and think of it as a child, a child that was born without a chance, a child who could not survive one minute without the help of someone else, but a child that is yours and you work hard for its survival, dealing with medications, doctors and hospital visits, therapy and forcing the child to do things he/she doesn’t understand. See the face of fright and despair as their eyes plead with you because they can’t speak and the eyes say: “Daddy, why are they doing this to me???”

I asked him how and when it happened, and he began to tell me how quickly everything transpired, how he thought he was dealing with an ordinary day feeding his son who sat in a wheel chair and it turned into sadness, a turn for the worse, unexpected and devastatingly over.

When you have a child with disabilities, you are forever on guard, forever alert to the slightest abnormality, forever fearful of the unexpected. You nourish, you support, you go to doctor’s appointments, you visit specialist and you learn about medications and conditions the ordinary parent doesn’t need to worry about.

As my friend finished telling me the events that led to his son’s death, he was on the verge of tears, the look of despair in his eyes and the sound of disappointment in his voice, the sadness overwhelming.

When life deals you bad luck, you try to deal with it as best you can, you put your head down and try to work your way through it all, but you must realize at the end of the day, life goes on, you need to live yet your time is not over. My friend said in the end: “You know Joe, in a way I’m relieved, the constant work and vigilance is over, there is no more feeding or doctor’s appointments to go to anymore, I’m coming to grips with it all and starting to feel better”

I left thinking that I was happy for him, happier than when I entered the place.

Sorry it is such a downer, but it is life, my life.

Sunday, February 22, 2015

I GO UNDER COVERED!


Today is my baby girl's 18th birthday. I’m so glad that this is my last child support payment! Month after month, year after year, all those payments!

So I call my baby girl Kyla, to come to my house, and when she got there, I said, "Kyla, I want you to take this check over to your mother’s house and tell her this is the last check she will ever be getting from me, and I want you to come back and tell me the 'expression on your mother's face."

So, Kyla took the check over to her momma, and I was anxious to hear what she had to say, and the expression on her face.

Kyla walked through the door, and I said, "Now what did your mother say about that?"

She said to tell you that "you aren't my daddy" ...and to watch the expression on your face.

Some things are best left unsaid.

It was a cold and freezing night, suddenly a shot rang out… oops, wrong story!

TLW's blanket
One night last week while we were trying to survive another night of Artic air while in bed, I decided to get an extra blanket for myself, saw TLW (The Little Woman) and decided to split the blanket between us, being how it was long enough to do so. The blanket, a hand knitted beauty of green and white wool well woven for maximum comfort was a pleasure over our regular regime of weather blanketry.

In the morning I came downstairs to find TLW in her usual spot and sat in mine. “How did you sleep last night?” she asked.

“Great! That blanket was really perfect for the job, wasn’t it?”

“Yes it was!”

“My mother knitted that for me a while ago.”

That night we experienced another cold night and so once again I got the blanket out and shared it with TLW, As she lay there watching the TV and I was reading, a sudden poking of my arm began, leading me to believe that either she thought she was a hypodermic needle or she wanted my attention desperately!

Alarmed I looked at her and she immediately went into over-drive: “I MADE THIS BLANKET, I KNITTED IT!”

It suddenly came back to me that she was right, I was thinking of another blanket my mother knitted for me that was just as warm and almost the same design and color, except Mom’s blanket had a red stripe added to it.

Mom's blanket
Apologizing profusely (something I do with great regularity to her) I told her how mistaken I was and yes she did indeed make the blanket, and even though she did, it did not take away from the fact that the blanket WAS so comfortable. Then in great shame, I closed my eyes and waited for either a pillow over my face or maybe a knife in my ribs, which either one would be deserving.

Sorry dear!
The next morning I come down and once again return to yesterdays topic, the blanket!

“You know” she says: “I was laying there last night and realized I made this blanket, not your mother!”

“Yes dear you did, and I felt so bad I forgot!” I usually end these kind of statements with “So shoot me.” But I realized I was ahead of the game, and I really don’t know what she carries around with her all day.





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Saturday, February 21, 2015

DON’T HORSE AROUND


“Spring training has begun for the New York Yankees. Earlier today, pitchers and catchers reported. And next week, I believe, it's addicts and felons.”
-Michael Sperr



To: The Mayor of NYC, the Honorable William DiBlasio

Re: Good Horse Sense

Dear Mr. Mayor:

May I call you Bill? Bill, your behavior lately has been disturbing to say the least. As the 109th Mayor of the great metropolis called New York City, you are losing it. It seems to me that you should be considering the draw of New York City and all it offers to tourist, especially the Japanese with all their cameras as they flood the world taking pictures. In all the years of history emanating from Gracie Mansion, not one up until you came along: had a problem with the carriage trade and horses.

Hizzonor
Now I know from experience as an old advertising executive, that you need the horse and carriage to carry the brochure. Let’s face it: what could be sexier that a horse and carriage with a young or old couple in the seats, holding hands and the driver with his top hat and whip, with the back drop of the Big Apple? My God, think of the power of a shot with the horse and carriage in front of the Plaza Hotel. This is what draws tourism to your city.

Now I know you are the mayor of the greatest city on Earth, but even Philadelphia has the carriage trade. Yes, that’s right, Philadelphia. Boston doesn’t anymore since they deflated all the horses. I know first hand having taken a carriage ride with TLW (The Little Woman) through the city of Brotherly Love. And to prove that I know what I’m talking about, I took another ride through Central Park in your fair city twice, once in the evening and once on a Sunday morning after a fantastic brunch. The NYC ride was far more entertaining, as I saw either bums or politicians sleeping in the streets and park. I tell you the attraction is great, the realized revenue in the millions every year.

I think your problem is you are afraid that the horses will eventually form a union, and you will be in another fight. You must understand that that is the case for every mayor past. They all worried since Thomas Willet about the union and nothing ever happened.

Because of your attitude, a lot of young Democrats don’t want to come to your fair city for the National Convention, because you might ban the carriage trade. Where are they going to have it? Why Philadelphia of course, where they have the carriage trade, and want a ride on one. You see, your senseless panic is costing you revenue.

Far be it for me to tell you how to run your city as I don’t live in Gotham, but you’re killing me Bill, you are killing me. The pro horse lobby is getting stronger every day, or at least something coming from those stables, and I do know you have a concern as the Jerry Seinfeld show pointed out in one of the social commentaries about nothing, what you feed the horse and air pollution. But that is a good thing, if you don't feed it beans, it is emission free and no carbon dioxides are let loose in the fresh, clean New York City air!

Thank you for your time, and I trust you will act decisively and with urgency in this important matter, so you can go back to shackling the cops.





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Friday, February 20, 2015

JUST AN ORDINARY JOE


Q: What does it mean when the flag is at half-mast at the post office?
A: They're hiring.

I’ve discovered that I am ordinary, and will become even more so as time goes on, but ordinarily I don’t complain.

The other day I was in the supermarket looking for soap. Ordinary everyday hand soap: a simple bar of soap. I was looking for something specific, Ivory Soap.
I just want to be clean
Why Ivory Soap, because it has no scent in it, no perfume or any kind of additives, just plain ordinary soap a man’s kind of soap. Aside from the fact that they didn’t carry it, the soap section was hidden under a large display of men’s scented soaps on the shelf, in bottles and was called lotions and body moisturizers and other sissy things. Someone at Stop & Shop is put in charge of getting hold of my shopping list and putting things in impossible places to find anything as I enter the store, this is their job. If I wanted perfumed soaps, I would wear a dress, it just isn’t my style. I have a suspicion one or both of my sons use the fancy stuff, but I’m from the old generation, they didn’t have that stuff when I was young. Men’s toiletries to me are the men’s room with more than one urinal for God’s sake!


But I’m like that in food too. Take yogurt, I like it if it is only the plain kind. I don’t like fruit in my
The way it should be.
yogurt; it makes me suspicious that I’m not getting the benefits of yogurt without sugar. If it isn’t plain or vanilla, I don’t want it. Fancy flavors are usually artificial and don’t usually have the real stuff in it.

My clothing is another way that I am not fussy. I don’t like style on my shoes; I like a plain round toe for the shoe, no layers, fancy things or patterns. Plain and ordinary, that’s me. Socks: white unless I dress to go out, then a solid color. I could just see it in a few years: men who already wear earrings, dresses and fancy shoes being confused whether they should sit or stand in the men’s room!

Now that's  shoe!
My suits, shirts and jackets, all basic styling, nothing cute or fancy, no alligators or fancy designs, I like basic colors and nothing else. I sound pretty boring, no? Ties are something else, TLW (The Little Woman) picks those out for me because when she does, and I get many complements.

I can’t stand designer gimmicks like labels on the outside of a garment or underwear that should be in a porno flick. FUBU? What the hell are they thinking??? FUBU indeed, I’ll FUBU you!

I’m a one kind of bourbon man only: Jack Daniels. Don’t try to pass anything else by me, and if you do I’ll send it back! Had a restaurant owner try that a few times, he had to go down to his basement and get me a bottle from another case, because he was trying to pawn off Wild Turkey, don’t even try.
being in touch with their softer side

There is nothing like seltzer water. A little lime or lemon in it and I am a happy camper, Most brands try artificial flavors, they don’t hold and they don’t taste right, and I don’t like them. Why poison something good with something bad?

Besides all the above, what happened to the idea of dressing up once in a while. I fell into the very trap of men’s attitudes today when I was going to a funeral. I was going to wear jeans, when TLW stopped me and I realized she was right! What the Hell is happening to this world and me?

 

  
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Thursday, February 19, 2015

GOOD MORNING READERS!


I Think McDonalds should be able to turn away customers like barkeepers do:
Customer: “I’ll have three Big Macs”
Barkeeper: “Sir, I think you had enough.”

Today was a great day in DELBLOGGOLOLand! Today I worked the crunch apparatus at the gym and set it at a certain weight, went through my 25 reps three times and then got off and went to another piece of equipment across from it. The weight I set was all new for me and heavier, and the reps were 10 more than I usually do in each set.

A young stud about in his late 20’s or early 30’s sat in my place and looked at the weight I had set. This guy works out every morning with weights and he looks it. I thought: Uh oh, this young guy is going to make this old man look bad! He began to work and started struggling, quitting around 10 and took off a good 20 to 30 pounds! IT MADE MY DAY!!!!

We all need little victories, and that for me was a big one! I think it makes my hard work pay off. Sometimes these guys work out and when they leave they leave the weight on the heaviest setting. I imagine there may be some people that can do that kind of workout, but I think most of them like to play games with ones head, and how do I know that? I’m a player.

There are times when I play games with myself, and that is when some young goddess comes along in her workout clothes, that look like they are sprayed on! They walk in and avert their eyes at all the dribble falling from the mouths of the old goats like myself. They pretend we don’t exist and proceed to bend over with their butts to your face and slowly place their towels and water bottles down before they hit the apparatus. This gives you time to ass-certain whether they really need to work out anymore, and usually they don’t. Of course, this leads to all kinds of problems for me: holding in my stomach, losing count of my reps and wondering where I am. These women are a good 40 years younger than me and gee whiz.

Some of us are at the gym because someone told us we should go to a gym, and some of us are at the gym because we want to build muscle, and both of them are for the most part going to fail. I go because I do like to go and I like challenging myself as I do in the rest of my life. I just want to be fit, not muscle bound and I would like to gradually lose weight, not all at once but slowly. One poor guy this morning was sitting on a piece of apparatus looking totally dejected and frustrated, having tried to work the thing for the first time. I was watching him form the tread mill and as I walked, I looked and saw the guy wandering in the hall looking at the bulletin board, then disappeared.

If you do join the gym to do workouts, I would suggest you go easy on yourself at first, and make it an enjoyable time. Don’t try to make up for years of inactivity in one or two visits, but set goals for yourself and gradually increase them as you go. I found this worked for me and have been making steady progress. Who’s in a hurry these days? The weight lose with the last three months was 7 pounds, with a reasonable diet and steady workout. I discovered if I eat small meals between breakfast, lunch and dinner. If you go to the table hungry, you overeat, if you don’t, and have three small meals or snacks between major meals, that works, this was taught to me by a personal trainer.

 


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