Sunday, May 24, 2015

IT GETS IN MY WAY

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I don’t know about you but I have a difficult time with today’s TV graphics. Being trained in the graphic arts and having worked in the graphic end of advertising as a designer, art director and creative director, I know the importance of functional design. Many a time a young designer would come to me for approval for design that they were in love with, and too many times I had to send them back to the drawing board because neither the client or the marketplace would appreciate their efforts.

One of the annoying things that get in the way is the need to display a network logo somewhere on the screen, that will sometimes interfere with something to read that is being shown in a documentary. Why do we need to be reminded about which channel we are viewing when the show is already on and the viewer is already involved? It is just plain stupid.

On Fall and Winter Sunday afternoons I watch football. I love to watch the game and enjoy a few hours of strategy and planning either going awry or succeeding. Many years ago you watched and there was no interference from the graphics, today, all you have is not only the obnoxious commercials, but these annoying graphics that take over the game, obliterating what you want to see and popping up at any time with out notice. Baseball too has it going that way, poorly designed graphics to tell you the score, how many men are on base, how many outs and the latest, a pitch count, it seems the whole thing has gotten stupid!

Back in the 50’s, shows like the Honeymooners, I Love Lucy, The Milton Berle Show and others were popular and were so for a long time. There were no graphics getting in the way, yet the show survived because it was good or the best. During a baseball game, in plain old black and white, the posted the batter’s stats, his at bats, hits and runs batted in and that went off immediately as the pitcher threw the ball. Today they throw up meaningless stats that have no bearing on what will happen.

Italians when they cook, have a philosophy, keep it simple and make the ingredients do the work. The same show be with TV graphics, keep them simple and let the show do the work.

Millions of viewers followed the weekly antics of the castaways on Gilligan's Island. But not much is known of their lives following their inevitable rescue.

The Howells, of course, returned to their opulent lives. But never one to pass up a prime business opportunity, Thurston discovered the lush tropical island had no owner and he secured it for himself. Soon he built a fabulous resort there. Jonas Grumby wrote a best-selling book about their adventures and opened a bar at the Howell's resort where his gregariousness and interesting stories made it a success. Roy Hinkley wanted to return to teaching but the Howells bankrolled some of his invention ideas which were remarkable successes for both of them. 

Ginger Grant returned to Hollywood but her absence from the spotlight for so long doomed her to starring in sleazy exploitative B movies. Mary Ann Summers was the surprise, as she agreed to pose nude as a Playboy magazine centerfold. Her life-sized poster, wearing nothing but a bit of her famous coconut cream pie in strategic places, adorned the wall of nearly every teenage boy in America.

The final castaway, Gilligan, reenlisted in the Navy to try and model himself on his friend and mentor the Skipper. Unfortunately his careless nature and lack of common sense led to his being the recipient of frequent additional duties, some designed to teach him better naval skills. One night, to teach him more meticulousness in his duties, he was tasked to count the links in an anchor chain and note whether he had to clean the dried seaweed and any barnacles from each using the provided broom. He listed each one on a sheet and as he started to brush the first one a seahawk landed on it and proceeded to defecate on it. That annoyed him, so he swung the broom at the bird to shoo it away. The bird fluttered for a moment and landed on the chain again, squawking annoyingly at him. He swung at it again, missing, and the bird landed again on the chain. This went on for some time, making Gilligan more and more perturbed at the persistent avian as time went on.

Just as the sun peeked over the horizon the executive officer, who had assigned him the task, came by to check on his progress. Seeing the sad state of the anchor chain he called Gilligan to attention and insisted that he give an accounting for why he had not completed the job.

"I'm sorry sir," Gilligan apologized sheepishly. "I tossed a tern all night and couldn't sweep a link!"




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Saturday, May 23, 2015

IS IT TIME?


Recently I have been losing my enthusiasm for writing this Blogue. It has been 9 strait years of writing everyday, and although the compulsion to write is strong, I feel like I have said everything I want to say.

It seems like a motor for me to write everyday, since I retired yet, I have been busy with other things and they consume my interest yet I question how interesting it would be to you? Again, that forms a doubt in my mind about continuing to write.

Over the last few years I’ve seen and heard things that disappoint me, make me wonder why they needed to happen and get disgusted. That is not what I want to bring everyday to loyal readers.

Then there is the ‘comments’ box that doesn’t get filled enough for me to think it warrants my continuation in this format any longer, that maybe it is time to say goodbye. I have tried before  (twice) to break off this blogue and move on as they say: yet I would miss writing. But there are other formats that I could write to, including a novel I am thinking about and some short stories. My beautiful granddaughter is filling a void in my life and lifting me up yet how much of that can I write about that would hold your attention for long?

I’m proud of the blogue, I think it is unique, and was a lot of fun to write sometimes, it gives me an outlet to voice my concerns, make fun of myself and life in general and given me a unique opportunity to create a bazaar world of sorts, all in the name of fun, that had to be because I wanted it to be me first.

And so the next few days I will think about it once more, and honestly am leaning to do away with it.

Friday, May 22, 2015

MEET THE METS… MAYBE


MEET THE METS,
MEET THE METS,
Step right up and greet the Mets!
Bring your kiddies,
bring your wife;
Guaranteed to have the time of your life
because the Mets are really sockin' the ball; knocking those home runs over the wall!
East side,
West side,
everybody's coming down
to meet the M-E-T-S Mets of New York town!
Oh, the butcher and the baker and the people on the streets,
where did they go? To MEET THE METS!
Oh, they're hollerin' and cheerin' and they're jumpin' in their seats,
where did they go? To MEET THE METS!
All the fans are true to the orange and blue,
so hurry up and come on down -
'cause we've got ourselves a ball club,
The Mets of New York town!
Give 'em a yell!
Give 'em a hand!
And let 'em know your rootin' in the stand!
Come on and MEET THE METS,
MEET THE METS,
Step right up and greet the Mets!
Bring your kiddies,
bring your wife;
Guaranteed to have the time of your life
because the Mets are really sockin' the ball; knocking those home runs over the wall!
East side,
West side,
everybody's coming down
to meet the M-E-T-S Mets of New York town!
Of New York town!

In 2013, my 2 sons and I planned a trip to Chicago to watch the Mets play 2 of 3 games against the Chicago Cubs at Wrigley Field. We stayed in the heart of the city and would watch the first and third game of the three game series. The middle day we would sightsee the Toddling Town.

#1 Son knew a girl who was a former girlfriend of one of the Met players: a good ballplayer but he couldn’t break the regular lineup. He would play on occasion and pinch hit.

Sure he would get us into the clubhouse and meet the Mets as the song goes, and we would be very happy baseball fans.

We packed our bags and would meet at the Chicago O’Hare Airport and take the train to the hotel. We were excited, three days in Chicago with my sons, a tour of the city and meeting the Mets in the clubhouse!

So what happens? The stiff gets sent down to the minors because he wasn’t hitting, we had to be contented with waving at them from behind the home plate screen. But as luck would have it, after one of the games, we were taking in the restaurants and bars and sports shops with souvenirs, when all of a sudden from the corner of my eye I spot something. It’s Sandy Aulderson: General Manager of the NY Mets talking to people on the street, so I get my camera out and take his picture, with my two sons, he was very gracious. I should have stepped on his foot for sending that bum down to the minors a few days too soon!

Yo mamma be so dumb she thinks Dunkin' Donuts be a basketball team!






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Thursday, May 21, 2015

DON’T I LOOK PRETTY?


I was reading an article about how celebrity men manage to look younger than they are. They have access with their money to skin care management that the ordinary Joe doesn’t.

After                                                               Before
Older guys get old and hide it behind a beard or facial hair of some kind, and even wear ponytails to go along with it. The youthful look escapes them but they try. Now women have been fooling men and themselves for years, and the older the women gets, the more attractive she seems to me, makeup or not, skin care or not. I say this as I get older and think the younger gals seem to lack the wisdom and grace that older women acquire. The younger women will at some point get there too.

But men doing things like their nails, and hairstyles, skin care and all the cosmetics being sold over the counter makes me uneasy. I always thought it a women’s world, you don’t see me with either a purse or an earring, and it stems from my upbringing, where I came from and of course my Dad’s influence.

Before

After
Once TLW (The Little Woman) purchased through a Sears catalog a shirt and tie for me way back in the 1970’s. The shirt was blue and the tie was a pink knit tie. Now TLW is very good at selecting ties for me, I never had a tie she didn’t like except for the one I choose for free since I bought a suit. It was ugly, and yes it made me uglier. Dad thought I was turning effeminate and soon would be whistling show tunes. He rode my butt over the color of that tie until I took it off.

But to do my nails, CARRY A “MAN’S” PURSE or wear an earring would never fly. I grew up in Brooklyn, if that got out, I’d probably get jumped, beaten and killed, and that would be from the girls in Brooklyn, because girls go first! Besides, Dad would climb out of his grave and tease me to death!

Teacher: "Children, what does the chicken give you?"
Student: "Eggs!"
Teacher: "Very good! Now what does the fat pig give you?"
Student: "Bacon!"
Teacher: "Great! And what does the fat cow give you?"
Student: "Homework!"





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Wednesday, May 20, 2015

FOREIGN IN A FAMILIAR PLACE


Recently I returned to my old street and the house where I lived as a young man with my parents. It was only like yesterday that it seemed the family was moving into the place Dad had built. I remember an old neighbor from the old neighborhood we were moving from helping us to move in, and the modern electric stove with the push buttons for each burner in a box on the stove top, and the neighbor thinking it was an inter-com.

I remember one of the last days too, the sense of how the house had gotten so old, over 50 years later. During those 50 some odd years, the building always seemed brand new to me, and yet it needed work.

I saw workmen everywhere, working on renovating the house, with new windows, and something being done to the garage, what I don’t know. There was even work in the back yard where the new cesspool was installed.

I rode down the street toward the train station that really wasn’t much but a dirt road with a lean to for a station and the word BELLPORT on a sign next to the tracks. It was where I walked every morning and returned every evening from first college and then work as a young designer. I tried to picture myself walking once more, but nothing seemed the same or at least familiar along the route.

Funny how your memory paints the picture and how stark the reality is when you revisit your old homestead. But I think I’ll stick with my memories and be it sweetened with time than to discuss what doesn’t feel right or seem the same. After all, as someone recently put it: “I am looking for not the place, but my childhood memory!”

Two guys are driving down 5th Avenue in Manhattan when they come up to a red light. The driver floors the gas pedal and they go zooming past the red light. His friend looks at him and says: "Hey, you just went through a red light." The driver says: "Don't worry about it. My brother does it all the time."

 So they keep driving and they come to a second red light. The guy driving floors the gas pedal and zooms past another red light. His friend is pretty mad, looks at him and says, "Hey man, you just went through another red light. What the heck are you doing?" The guy driver tells his friend, "Don't worry about it. My brother does that all the time."

 They come to a third red light and once again the driver floors the gas, zooming past the red light. His friend starts screaming at him, "What the heck? You're going to get us killed! Pull over and let me out." The driver screams back at him, "I'm telling you: don't worry about it. My brother, he does it all the time."

So they keep driving and they come to a green light. The driver slams on the brakes. His friend looks at him and says, "Are you out of your mind? What the heck is wrong with you? You go flying past three red lights, almost getting us killed, and then you slam on the brakes when you have a green light?" The driver looks at his friend and says, "I had to stop; my brother might have been coming."

 



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Tuesday, May 19, 2015

BOY DOES THAT HURT!!!


I’ve had several root canals done on me and I can truly say they never bothered me, but the last one was an exercise in dying, suddenly!

It all started with visiting the dentist and his assessment of my teeth and the need for some bridgework. As it stands now I have more bridging and tunneling going on in my mouth than the Metropolitan Transit Association of New York City.

As the dentist Dr. Gumster probed he decided that I had a bad molar crown lower right #31 and that the nerve was exposed, causing me great shock when I ate or drank and breathed.  If you talked to me I would begin and when I started to talk would sound like I fell in love with you! This had to stop because most of my friends are married, and a great number are men!

Even worse, if I dined out, I would bite down to chew and would forget which side to protect, looking like I was stabbed in the knee, causing the waiter or waitress to run to the kitchen to report my extreme look of dismay with the food, that in turn caused the chef to come out and taste test the food.

But this time I sat in the dentist chair confident, he would do his usual work and the pain would desist, and I could get out of the place in no time. Then the needles, oh the needles! Dr. Gumster decides: One needle for the side of the gum, one for the hinge in the jaw and one of course for good luck. Sweet Baby Jesus, that wasn’t enough! He asks if I’m numb yet, this after 43 years of marriage and 3 kids, I just shake my head yes.

Never say "AH" in these chairs, it sounds stupid!
Pulling up his chair he begins poking, and I am getting the feeling that I feel something, like pain, where the nerve is exposed. I wince and he probes some more. I wince louder, he probes more and the louder I get. He decides one more needle, or maybe two would be nice.

Backing up across the room, needles in hand, he takes a running start and into my gums he stabs! RIGHT IN THE EXPOSED NERVE!!!!!!!!! OOOOOOOUUUUUCCCCHHHHH, TAKING ANOTHER NEEDLE AND STICKING IT DIRECTLY INTO THE NERVE ONCE MORE AND LEAVING IT THERE ASKING: IS THE PAIN GONE YET?

Finally, finally gum area is feeling numb, making it consistent with the rest of my body and mind. Turns out the roots were closing up exposing one of the nerves. So after about a life-time of digging and whatever it was he was doing he managed to fix the problem! Thank You God!

A lady sitting in the dentist chair told the dentist, "I would rather go through the pain of child birth than have you drill in my mouth." The dentist replied, "Well, you had better make up your mind so I can adjust my chair.


 


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Monday, May 18, 2015

BANG, BOOM AND OTHER TRICKS OF THE TRADE

Every morning while at the gym, I walk the walk, the treadmill that is. I usually go downstairs to a movie room where there are treadmills, stair-masters and other forms of self-torture. I do this for 20 minutes and get in a decent workout, even breaking a sweat. I could go elsewhere in the gym for the treadmill, but watching a movie helps the time move along quickly.

The movie however is an issue as far as I’m concerned, since it seems to be the same old thing: ‘bang, boom and kapow’ all done in special effects. The young ladies are more daring than they have ever been in the cinema, sexually provocative and down right gorgeous, yet so athletic they make the leading men look like sissies! And then there are the special effects, what the movie is really all about. Special effects are so common now they aren’t special anymore.

In the old days, you went to a movie to see a story about something historical, hysterical or because you loved and appreciated the art of acting by certain screen stars. There was glamour and intrigue, but that is disappearing rapidly today. You go to the movies because of the mind numbing special effects, outrageously inhuman and impossible in real life, relating only to someone else’s fantasy, and no reality in sight. It is becoming boring. Where has all the talent gone?

I watch old movies to get a flavor of the times when the movie was supposed to depict a certain time in history. An apartment decorated in the 1930’s or 40’s, the social mores and habits of the day. Smoking was an acceptable social function, kissing was for the special girl and there was sexual tension without the sex. The story line was the important thing: there were NO special effects. I can’t always say the acting was of the uppermost quality, but there were some really fine actors out there, Bacall, Bogart, and even down to Tom Hanks, and one of my newly all-time favorites, Jim Parsons.

I have had the pleasure to watch Jim Parsons on stage, screen and TV and if you do too, you see what a master he really is. He has brought out the classics as well as the social injustices that lay in the path of real freedom and happiness for some people. He is a giant among the many midgets who can’t act but do get blown up pretty well, have no dialogue of substance but the ‘F’ word, and this is their reality.

A man wakes up in the hospital, bandaged from head to foot. The doctor comes in and says, “Ah, I see you've regained consciousness. Now, you probably won't remember, but you were in a pile up on the freeway. You're going to be okay, you'll walk again and everything, but something happened. I'm trying to break this gently, but the fact is, your willy was chopped off in the wreck, and we were unable to find it.” The man groans, but the doctor goes on, “You've got $9000 in insurance compensation coming to you, and we have the technology now to build you a new willy that will work as well as your old one did, better in fact! But the thing is, it doesn't come cheap. It's $1000 an inch.” The man perks up at this. “So,” the doctor says, “it's for you to decide how many inches you want, but it's something you'd better discuss with your wife. I mean, if you had a five inch one before, and you decide to go for a nine incher, she might be a bit put out. But if you had a nine inch one before, and you decide only to invest in a five incher this time, she might be disappointed. So it's important that she plays a role in helping you make the decision.” The man agrees to talk with his wife. The doctor comes back the next day. “So,” says the doctor, “have you spoken with your wife?” “I have,” says the man. “And has she helped you in making the decision?” asked the doctor. “She has,” says the man. “And what is it?” asks the doctor. “We're getting a new kitchen.”





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