Wednesday, August 26, 2015


And so on we go on: with another crazy person killing 2 innocent people with a gun, on TV no less. When do we learn to figure it out and stop the carnage? "Guns don't kill people, people with guns kill people. Unless we are in immediate danger of invasion, and the military is too busy, we do not need to carry guns. The right to bare arms is for the sake of a militia, one that we no longer use. Great job Gun Lobby, you helped the murder.

The shame is that in today’s world, with instant media coverage and instant communication with Facebook, Twitter and You Tube, it is too easy to garner attention for one’s self. You purchase an assault rifle and you are on your way. Who needs an assault rifle in this country? Do we live in the Middle East?

There used to be a sport that although I never participated in, never offended me, and that is hunting. You went out for deer or even bear, deer or rabbit, and spent the time tracking through the woods and lean about nature. You sat in a duck boat, maybe froze your butt off in the late fall, and hunted. You had a hunting rifle and you were licensed and so no one cared. That is quickly becoming intolerable. The legitimate hunter is in danger of losing his sport because we don’t put in enough or the right controls to stem the carnage. I know that we will never fully stop the incidents, but maybe we can bring this nonsense way down.

Then the gun lobby got so strong that people, ordinary people are coming under assault by crazies, citing their rights under the Second Amendment, to own assault rifles, to some sick and ill-informed concept the amendment gives each of us the right to bear arms. It doesn’t, it gives us the right to form a militia and bare arms, as was the original meaning.

But let’s support the right to bare arms, to allow the crazies to get their hands on them, and then to make a name for themselves: maybe at the cost of one of our loved ones or perhaps even ourselves.

But I have a solution:

Monday, August 24, 2015


Recently I tried out a new barber. The old barber I had was just down the road, and I have been going to the shop itself for over 30 years off and on. I thought I’d try a new one for a change of pace, and maybe like the results.

The new barber Attila, is a man in his 40’s, tall and slightly over-weight, but right off the boat from somewhere in the Serbian Empire, with a heavy accent, and a European flair when he cuts. What’s a European flair you ask? His arms go into an exaggerated motion as he waves that scissor around, menacing both life and limb as he chops his way to the final neck shave.

His technique for brushing you is to smack the brush against your head then pound it until all the hair stand up, where he then blows them off with his lips.

Ear hair is another story. Using an electric razor, he grinds the machine into your head until he reaches hair, twisting and pushing and pressing the razor as it totally reforms the shape of your ears. If it comes out of your other ear, you know he went too far!

The guy ahead of me
Neck hair? Ha, he just applies the electric razor until it manages to get under the skin, being the only barber to cut hair at the roots, under the skin.

Then the most terrifying moment comes. He reaches into the top drawer, and extracts a strait-edge razor, as I silently prayer, not sure if this will be my last haircut or my first scalping.

When the whole process is over, I pay the man and give him a generous tip for sparing my life, as he asks: “Do you have my business card?” “No!” I answer.

Reaching for a business card on the counter he says: “When you come three times, I punch the card each time and you get a half-priced haircut. Tell your friends too. You look very nice-tell them, great haircut, half-price 4th haircut and good price!

Leaving I stopped at the drugstore for some painkiller and the druggist says, “Nice haircut, but did somebody steal your money, you look like you didn’t give it up without a fight!


A man walked in to a Barber Shop for his regular haircut.  As he snips away, the barber asks: "What's up?"

The man proceeds to explain he's taking a vacation to Rome. "ROME?!" says the barber, "Why would you want to go there? It's a crowded dirty city full of Mafioso! You'd be crazy to go to Rome! So how ya getting there?" "We're taking TWA" the man replies.

"TWA?!" yells the barber. "They're a terrible airline. Their planes are old, their flight attendants are ugly and they're always late!  So where you staying in Rome?" The man says "We'll be at the downtown International Marriot." "That DUMP?!" says the barber. "That's the worst hotel in the city! The rooms are small, the service is surly and slow and they're overpriced!  So whatcha doing when you get there?"  The man says "We're going to go see the Vatican and hope to see the Pope."

"HA! That's rich!" laughs the barber. "You and a million other people trying to see him. He'll look the size of an ant. Boy, good luck on THIS trip. You're going to need it!"

A month later, the man comes in for his regular haircut. 
The barber says, "Well, how did that trip to Rome turn out? Bet TWA gave you the worst flight of your life!" "No, quite the opposite" explained the man. "Not only were we on time in one of their brand new planes, but it was full and they bumped us up to first class. The food and wine were wonderful, and I had a beautiful 28 year old flight attendant who waited on me hand and foot!"

"Hmmm," says the barber , "Well, I bet the hotel was just like I described."
"No, quite the opposite! They just finished a $25 million remodeling. Its the finest hotel in Rome, now. They were overbooked, so they apologized and gave us the Presidential suite for no extra charge!"
"Well," the barber mumbles, "I KNOW you didn't get to see the Pope!"
"Actually, we were quite lucky. As we toured the Vatican, a Swiss guard tapped me on the shoulder and explained the Pope likes to personally meet some of the visitors, and if I'd be so kind as to step into this private room and wait, the Pope would personally greet me. Sure enough, after 5 minutes the Pope walked through the door and shook my hand. I knelt down as he spoke a few words to me."

Impressed, the barber pleads, "Tell me, please! What did he say?"
"He just said: Where did you get that awful haircut?'"

Address: 1231 Taft Hwy, Signal Mountain, TN 37377
Hours: Open today · 10:00 am – 6:00 pm
You should, nine out of ten people who don't, miss it!
Forgotten NY is the first recipient of the
Outstanding NYC Website award by
The Guides Association of NYC!

Sunday, August 23, 2015


Don’t act surprised, you must have known that.

Unfortunately for me, I know people that like to leave the impression that they are perfect, that if they do things for the church or temple, they are guaranteed the joys of heaven. I mean, how would God not let them in? They go around professing their belief and even going so far as to post it on the Internet, hoping that Jesus has a page on the social media and makes notes of those that post such things. “If you love Jesus, post it in the comments box.” “If Jesus is your savior, hit like”

These ‘Holy Ones’ think they are fooling God.

A good example of this on the TV is the one and only Josh Duggar, who made a lot of money on pretending to be pious, tried fooling God and got caught, you might say with his proverbial pants down. He looked like every mother’s dream of a son or son-in-law. He dressed in very acceptable attire, was neat and clean bodily yet … I guess clean cut gets you points to heaven. He embarrassed his family; they look sheepish now and ashamed!

As it is I have difficulty with religions, they are the root of all wars, the source of constant tension and do a lot of harm. Religion makes people do crazy things, believe falsely and is polarizing. The Crusades, the Inquisition, the Holocaust, 9/11, etc. it all makes no sense.

The Duggars are a family built on the reputation that procreation is everything, and must be practiced because both TV and Jesus want it. It's a religious belief, that makes for a lot of TV and sex, but in the end, a lot of headaches as these 19 kids grow up!

Of course there are those that don’t go to church or temple, don’t practice their faith, except when they have to, you know say at Palm Sunday, or a funeral and then they put on their Sunday Go To Church clothes, a halo appears behind their head, their hands clasp in prayer, and along the way they tell you what you should do to gain the Kingdom of Heaven.

In my lifetime I have witnessed priests behave badly, uncompromising, unfeelingly, yes, even unchristian like. They then climb the pulpit, and tell me how I should behave, and by the way, leave a little bread so he doesn’t have to get a job.

The priests are not alone, the Rabbi and minister do their part too. I’ve seen nuns and priests have affairs, nothing stops them. Not all clergy are like that fully but they are all human.

The ‘Holy Ones’ are particular to hypocrisy. They create trouble, they don’t forgive, and they lack the character to admit to themselves that they have no right to tell anyone how to pray, how to mourn and what to believe in.

No, I’m not perfect, but I do as much as I can to help people, try to do good deeds and respect the poor and sick, the elderly and children of this world. I won’t spend it in a church attending to a ritual that goes on robotically every day and three times on Sunday! To me I just fall into a trance and loose sight of what I am supposed to do, walking out thinking I don’t have to think about God until next Sunday, or if God forbid, something happens.

I swear, curse and let off steam, I’m not nice sometimes and sometimes I can even get mean, but I do know my attending church won’t mend that: it just delays it. So I try to work on good works to balance and if I’m really involved, I won’t have time to be all those things I just said I can be.

I often wonder how ‘Christians’ can believe such things, even about Jesus. Do you mean to tell me that all those that lived their lives unknowing about Jesus all these years are “Unsaved”? I am not singling out Christianity; the Muslims have their beliefs in prophets as well. Who is right? Who died unsaved in this world?

It just doesn’t make sense.

Saturday, August 22, 2015


-->Soon I will be returning to Facebook, as I wipe away the scourge of pornography that infected my browser settings in FACEBOOK!

It is not that I want to necessarily return, but it is the principle of the thing, I won’t let this moron who hacked my account win.

Actually, I’m enjoying the lack of Facebook, no unnecessary emails about every posting in the universe and twice of Sundays, no messages about people who want to be friends who I don’t know from Adam. What I do miss are the postings of my sons and the wit that goes with them.

I will probably be back by mid-week coming, and will post with my customary joy, posting a joke, so my old friends know it’s me.

So as the Italians say: “Ritorni me” so I will ask them to return to the old friendship we had before the fiendship took over by some low-life.

Living without Facebook is NOT culture shock, the letter below best illustrates culture shock.

Dear Son,

Your Pa has a new job, the first in 48 years. We are a little better off now, getting $17.96 every Thursday. So we up and thought we'd do a little fixin’ up. We sent to Rosemont and Seasbuck for one of them there bathrooms you hear so much about and it took a plumber to put it in shape. On one side of the room is a great big long thing, something like the hogs drink out of, only you get in it and wash all over. Over on the other side is a little white thing called a sink, this is for light washing, like face and hands, but over in the other corner we really got something. There you put one foot in, wash it clean, pull a chain and get fresh water for the other foot. Two lids come with the darn thing and we ain't had any use for them in the bathroom, so I'm using one for a bread board and the other we framed grandmother's picture in. They were awful nice people to deal with and they sent us a roll of writing paper with it. Take care of yourself son.

Your Maw


Address: 1231 Taft Hwy, Signal Mountain, TN 37377
Hours: Open today · 10:00 am – 6:00 pm

You should, nine out of ten people who don't, miss it!

Forgotten NY is the first recipient of the
Outstanding NYC Website award by
The Guides Association of NYC!

Sunday, August 16, 2015


Being a sociable person, and looking to find old classmates for a high school reunion, I joined Facebook at the suggestion of a classmate, about 5 years ago. Overall the experience was fun, finding people and giving it a little DelBloggolo spin to have fun. I created my own gallery of photos to post with my words of self-derision and greeting to others. I created fun movies that wished people a happy birthday or to note a holiday.

All of that changed recently. There was a posting from someone I thought I knew, and she had a picture with this post that I could not make heads or tails about. I clicked it and yes, it turned into a nightmare. What came up was porn, sick, sad and disgusting. Someone thought to send me their perversions and once was not enough. I have since quit Facebook, and will never go back again, I don’t need it.

I will miss all the wonderful people that I have met as well as those I knew when I first joined. Because I made one click, I infected the pages of a lot of decent people that didn’t deserve such a thing, and it made me feel dirty!

I could never apologize enough to all who had the misfortune of dealing with it, I am sorry and wish I never heard of Facebook, but the damage is done.

And so Dear Readers, I now have the urge to go back to a more steady routine of blogging and through this medium I will go.

One day a group of Darwinian scientists got together and decided that man had come a long way and no longer needed God. So they picked one Darwinian to go and tell Him that they were done with Him. The Darwinian walked up to God and said, "God, we've decided that we no longer need you. We're to the point that we can clone people and do many miraculous things, so why don't you just go on and get lost

."God listened very patiently and kindly to the man. After the Darwinian was done talking, God said, "Very well, how about this? Let's say we have a man-making contest." To which the Darwinian happily agreed. God added, "Now, we're going to do this just like I did back in the old days with Adam. "The Darwinian said, "Sure, no problem," and bent down and grabbed himself a handful of dirt. God looked at him and said, "No, no, no. You go get your own dirt!"



Address: 1231 Taft Hwy, Signal Mountain, TN 37377
Hours: Open today · 10:00 am – 6:00 pm

You should, it builds strong minds!

Forgotten NY is the first recipient of the
Outstanding NYC Website award by
The Guides Association of NYC!

Saturday, August 15, 2015


We all remember a special teacher in our lives that has made a profound effect on us. The man or woman leaves an indelible impression and it never goes away. It helps shape who we are. In high school, for me it was Mr. Richard Hall, a great teacher and he seemed to touch my soul with his enthusiasm, making me love the man, and remembering him fondly, as I charted out my life before me. I even went to his funeral when he past.

But sometimes the teachers we find in life come from the most unlikely places, people we never expect to find as teachers, people that teach us and we don’t realize it until later on.

My daughter is severely handicapped, can’t speak and has great trouble communicating with people. Yet she has taught me the greatest lessons of my life. Her method is simple enough: don’t say or do anything but exist.

Yet in my past world of raising children, all the things I learned, and all the advice I had gotten, was all self-centered around my family and me. But suddenly that all changed when Ellen came along, . Not immediately at first, but as things evolved.

Ellen taught me that there are others in this world, that Ellen was a small part of the bigger problem, all those poor people who had disabilities needed advocates and voices.

But there other teachers of course, there are the dedicated people that make lives worth living for those they serve. The nurses and doctors and the dedicated day care people that dote and teach and cheer on people like Ellen. They make an obscene amount of money, the minimum wage, getting less than the hamburger flipper who would rather be pecking at his/her cell phone than caring about their job. But the day care worker pecks and cares about his/her charges, the people that they cheer on everyday, and help make the simple task we take for advantage possible for those of us less able.

God bless them. Andrew Cuomo, we need your help to raise the wages of these wonderful advocates and teachers of people like my Ellen.

Sunday, August 02, 2015



In the middle of Myrtle Beach, South Carolina there are a few things that you can’t miss, one is a pick-up truck, and the other: is a Calabash restaurant or two. Top that off with one or two golf courses, a few resort centers and a couple of people and there you have Myrtle Beach. Oh, I forgot, multiply that by several thousand!

When I got down to Myrtle Beach, we decided to look for a place to eat, and saw this seafood restaurant that said on its large sign: “Calabash Restaurant, all you can eat.”
TLW (The Little Woman) needed to go into a local store and while she did I found this coupon book she was carrying and thumbed through it. I discovered ‘Calabash’ is a term used by many restaurants.

In fact there is a Calabash street off of the 17. The 17 route along with The Kings Highway are main roads the locals and tourist travel. As you travel these roads, and any roads off of them, you will find that 50% of the vehicles are pickup trucks. Yes, BIG annoying in your way pick-up trucks. There is no escaping them, they are everywhere, leaving me to wonder: what the Hell are they all needing to pick up???

Inside the restaurants the food is mostly deep fried, comes in a plastic woven-like waxed paper lined red basket and the dinner is stuffed into it. Mostly hamburgers and catfish, shrimp and onion rings or fries, with Cokes and beer to hydrate the grease to allow it to flow like the NYC sewer system. Finding a decent restaurant with fine foods is kind of difficult, and even harder once you get in as the tourist bring in their rug rats that scream as often as possible, or in their case needed.

As we were dining at one of the Calabash restaurants, TLW inquired about a certain item on the menu and the waiter, a country boy explained that Calabash was a way of frying something, I guess a kinder, gentler way to grease the fins and claws.

So as we left the restaurant, flush with our fresh known knowledge of Calabash, this local, sitting by himself and taking apart the crab legs, calls us over. Curious, I respond by walking over to the table.

Local: “You b’long to a band?”
Me: “Why?”
Local: “Ya got the face of a gitar playa.”

Yo gotta love dem locals!