THE TABLE WAS SET

It was 5:30 PM as I eagerly awaited my wife, Ellen, to show up from her day at work.

On the table was the gift sitting pretty among the wine and dishes ready for dinner.

I pretended I was busy on my laptop happily doing nothing but waiting for this moment.

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

Pointing to the gift: "That".

"Oh, that! Nothing really. Just a little gift!"

"Who gave you that?"

"Oh, I got it today."

"From Frank? Did Frank give you that?"

"Yup."

Not being able to stand it anymore she approaches the gift and moves the paper around a little without showing any signs that she is really interested.  I offer:

"You want to open it? Go ahead if you want to."

Good medicine!

 

PIQUING FOR FUN

I’m a very bad husband. Yes, all you who thought I was the bests were wrong!

The other day I got a present given to me, a thoughtful gift that although wasn’t monumental in terms of monetary value or size was indeed major in scope. Someone gave me this gift and it was wrapped in a gift bag with a bow and everything. A beautiful presentation and it made me feel wonderful.

As I drove home with it, I started t think that maybe I’ll leave it unwrapped, untied and in full sight. Now why would I do such a thing? To get my wife’s curiosity going and see what she asks me about it. More importantly, how will I answer her question, and/or will I?

After 47 years of marriage, there is very little left to the imagination about the other. We seen us in all kinds of situations and I won’t go into details, but you get the idea. So why not make this a mystery? We do a lot together when we do something. We eat together, sleep together and watch TV together, regardless if one of us is awake or not.

I will drive her crazy if I don’t tell her what’s in the bag, it will make her think I’m hiding something, and that will should drive her to distraction, and create more intrigue for her. The more I can hide from her will make it fun, and the more fun I have makes me happy.

How long will I hold out? I don’t know, but I’d love to set a new personal record. I don’t have any secrets from her, although I feel she may have some on me, I will play this to the hilt and see her in divorce court I guess.

THE NEW REALITY

It comes in a cookbook. It is the recipe for a new reality, one that annoys me to no end.

I decided to take charge of my fate, finally. I'm looking at diabetic meals and planning them. I think I can do this, but I need to dedicate myself to it. I like to cook and therefore I should be able to challenge myself to do better in the health department.

Looking at some of the recipes in the books I have, I realize that I cook close to what they are showing me. I need to exercise some better judgment in terms of ingredients but once that is mastered I should do OK.

Actually, some recipes I have developed myself have been even better than what I'm now being shown, good fish and chicken recipes that are favorites of mine actually can fall within the realm of diabetic, and that makes life simpler. Sushi is a favorite and all the variations that the Japanese present, just make me happy.

There are a few things that work in my favor. I love vegetables, either cooked or raw, there are many Italian recipes that call for vegetables cooked in almost a natural state. Add some onions or spices with lemon or tomato and there you go. Fish is a favorite, give me any kind of fish and I am happy. The thing about fish is that you can flavor it and it takes on the flavor because it absorbs liquids so well.

As my mom got older, I noticed she didn't eat a whole lot of meat in her later years. I am starting to get that way myself. Stakes or chops are not that important to me. The only eggs I'll eat are either scrambled or omelets, no round yolks, please.

So, I am issuing myself a challenge, to make delicious, wholesome diabetic fighting recipes that please me, and create a compilation that will last my lifetime.

WHY ITS SO IMPORTANT

Grandpa

When I was growing up, especially in Brooklyn, the day's events always had the flavor of or influence of the Italian immigrants who came to America and raised their children with the dreams of a better tomorrow.

Often lessons were learned from the ‘old-timers' that spoke imperfect English but with perfect hearts, teaching me the history of where I came from, the lessons I would apply to me later along the path of life.

There were many nationalities with the same bent, teaching their children how lucky they were to be living in this great country and how you show respect to the flag, imperfect that it is yet offering all the sunshine and warmth there is in the life of a free man.

I have always remembered those people, my ancestors that so affected my life and electrified my pride in being of Italian roots. Find a room filled with Italians and you find your pulse once again, your joy for life renewed and your day filled with all kinds of emotions from laughter to sobbing on occasions. Theirs was a simple faith in God, a reverence for the flag and deep duty to their families. What they believed they taught to their children, instilling it with their own force of character and loving mindset.

I think it important to keep these people alive, even though many have long ago passed on. Their memories are indeed alive, their teaching still teaches, and the fear of disappointing them still persist to this day in me. We need to know about the hardships they endured, the prejudices they felt, the avoidance they received from those around them who were not Italian. We need to re-tell their stories to all generations to come.

Grandma and me. We may have come over on the same boat!

Coming to America was not easy, it was not guaranteed you would have success once you arrived, and immigrants had to prove so much to so many including their own kind about the new wave of immigration. Overcoming suspicion was a big barrier to master. Children growing up under these conditions were suffering the humiliation of having to interpret to their parents in order to buy insurance, apply for help or speak with a doctor. Often, I remember the times my mom or dad had to stand in for my grandparent because my grandparent could not speak or understand English.

But the immigrants made sure that their children were clean and well-fed, and always respectable.

SOMETIMES IT GETS DARK

Being a diabetic can be a real downer. You take the medications, but you can't seem to stick to a diabetic diet of sawdust and water, you exercise even though you hate it and have the doctor tell you the meds aren't working enough, you need higher dosages, and more or new ones. The exercises only make you arthritis worst and so you have to curtail some things in your routine and you feel guilty about it.

Then one day you discover you need to inject yourself like a drug addict, and so you do. The doctor calls and says the meds are at the max, let's start with needles.

The irony of it all is that the further you delve into trying to stop the progression of the disease, the worse you feel. You realize that your time is running out, that there is nothing you can really do to stem the tide of the illness.

Things like breakfast on a Sunday morning in a dinner with your wife is now questionable, and that is a downer. It adds to the gloom and doom. I shouldn't eat pancakes because pancakes are bad for me. I love pancakes! Eggs? Scramble them and only one piece of dry toast, preferably from sawdust.

I don't drink my Jack Daniels Manhattans anymore, too much sugar, but do have a couple of glasses of red wine. Miss my cocktails.

One should not eat red meat, love a good steak! There is the kidney that has some problem is I have to drink a lot of water according to the doctor, high blood pressure and high cholesterol all contribute to the pill count. I've already had a triple by-pass and a carotid artery cleared, an operation that leaves a scar and numbness across your face. My right foot has been in pain since 1967, over 50 years!

Not to complain but, life is a pain in the foot, a pisser, and frankly, in spite of it all, I intend to find a way to laugh, probably at myself.

On the positive side, I have a new grandson coming soon and I will see my beautiful granddaughter next month. If I can just live long enough.

TAKE A LOOK!

Maybe I'm being a Pollyanna, thinking that the youth of this country will take us to the level as adults we need to be. My hope is that they will show us, adults, what we need to do is change what we collectively believe.

The rising of their collective voices supports my hope, I see and hear them, this makes me feel better that the youth of this country, tomorrow's America is really now! They, with their clear minds, can see distinctly what the problem is. It is simple, it is a solution, stop the NRA from contributing to politician's coffers, get realistic about bans on assault rifles, and please, don't give us crap about this or that automatic weapon isn't really an assault rifle.

Time after time, interview after interview, the call is clearly heard as the students, the victims of our inaction and reluctance, call us out for our failing them. The parents? They rage and plead and tell us why? Why did this murder that is in Congress' hands had to occur?

But the collective conscience of the youth, the teenagers who are speaking out is set to demand that change is enacted and that the consecrated halls of the Capitol Dome are where it must begin. That we put our children first, not only for today but for tomorrow, when my grandchildren and yours attend schools and my children send those kids off to learn to feel secure that school is a safe place, not a target range for some manic to take aim at.

So, from this horrific event, I feel good about the youth of America, they show sense, the good old-fashioned kind, the common sense. They are tomorrow's leaders, I'm proud of them.

There is nothing wrong with owning guns. Thirty and forty years ago there were no issues, what changed? What changed is the availability of assault rifles became prevalent and advertised, and when we do that we make a change we don't see.

Only 1% to a little over that of mass shootings come from assault guns, and that is an NRA argument to keep them. What they don't argue is the disproportionate numbers it kills in victims.

LET’S CONTINUE THE RANT

Victims of the NRA

I was just on Facebook, and to think that it would even allow itself to post things from the NRA, let alone a recruitment for new members, offering a free gift at this time, with all the horrible news. Students of the Marjory Stoneham Douglas High School shooting rising in anger and disgust, proclaiming the truth, that the NRA is not protecting anything but the bottom line.

The audacity that the NRA would even show their face after this latest tragedy makes most people's blood boil. We have lost children, to guns that are easy to get and guns that should not be allowed to be sold. How many more children will be lost before someone comes along like a POTUS to lead a change in our sick culture? What we have is a President who is in over his head, who can't lead by example, has lost the respect of the people who respect the office.

What has happened to us as a country? Where did we go wrong, where did we fail? Why?

We have a business, the NRA that has a chokehold on Congress. A money machine that applies its wealth to further its wealth under the guise of the 2nd Amendment. This amendment was designed to legally allow 18th Century America to arm their militia against foreign and domestic intrusions into their community, it was not designed for individuals to own assault weapons.

But like I said before, the children we have let down by allowing the NRA to exist, are starting a rolling storm across the country, a movement that hopefully will change the tide once and for all, and we can finally ban assault rifles.

THE MOON MUST BE FULL

The crazies are out! Yes, they are!

Yesterday I went t my gym and got on an exercise apparatus that requires you sit and peddle. It tells you how far you are going, how fast and you see your heart rate as you peddle. The faster you peddle the more the number goes up. There is a little TV that is mounted on top of the readout so you can spend the time being bored by the news.

As I am serenely peddling away there are few open apparatus that no one is using. Suddenly, this woman shows up in her pink hat, Capri's and sweatshirt. Immediately she starts talking to the machine, somewhat angrily. I keep pedaling, trying not to let her catch me. She mounts and starts her exercise.

For a moment, I thought I was in a porn show or movie or some sex den.  As she starts she is making noises, like guttural groans, grunts, panting and sounding like she is orgasmic in her experience If I didn't know better, I would swear someone was with her on that seat.

Minding my business, I pedal away. I try to pedal faster, maybe I can get by her, but the damned machine is stationary.

Suddenly she looks at me and starts to complain about something on the TV monitor, like it matters to me, indicating that some kind of common sense was needed and asked I opinion.  I shake my head "Yes" and continue on my way. Now I am worried she will want to be my friend. She doesn't realize I don't make friends at the gym, that is where I go to work out, not socialize.

Finally, she jumps off the equipment and leaves. I wonder if I am sweating from the pedaling I'm doing or from fear of having to be her friend.

IT'S ANNOYING

There are commercials out there on the TV that seem to get reactions of annoyance out of me.

Case in point: the furniture salesman, everything he sells is $999, COMPLETE! He uses ordinary women he has a crush on and thinks it sells. It may. He used to use the NY Giants football team logo and adornments to associate himself with a winner, he hasn't this past year, the Giants were horrible.

Then there is Roberto. Roberto plays soccer for some team from somewhere. He's in town for some game Roberto is sculpted by Michaelangelo, chiseled from granite. He walks around the hotel he stays at in his underwear and does it after he's done eating. The hotel help takes his picture in his shorts so they send it out via I-phone to the world. Both men and women get excited, I don't, I think the cable provider who set this up needs to move on to another attempt to sell their service, not some soccer player in his skivvies.

There are SUV commercials that scare the Hell out of me. They depict superhuman events, space technologies that make the viewer wonder if they don't fly too. Superman flights and crazy racecar drivers turning and spinning, doing trick turns and stops. Will all this accommodate my granddaughter? How does it really handle in the snow, going uphill or on an icy road? Tell me that.

The country is so much into the world of technological advancements in audio and visual effects, it forgets about its real innovations that mean more than how high or fast the car flies.

LISTEN TO THE CHILDREN

A movement is sweeping the country, the movement of reason, and it comes not from Washington or some Senate chamber, but from the schoolrooms and fields of high school students across the nation. They are the voice of reason, they are starting to make a difference.

All too often we ignored them as adults, they don't matter, a 401K does, a bottom line does and so does the right to carry an assault weapon does. But our most precious commodity doesn't, "Now is not the time to discuss gun control" as some might say.

Interviewing teenagers from the horror of the Florida massacre recently that killed the cream of the crop, 17 of our youth, one interview really stood out, the plea to stop the killing. The statement most revealing was that the adults had let them, the students down. The words missing from that statement were: ‘Once again'.

Soon, the time is coming to discuss this madness and we better listen. These so-called children are lending something to us adults we should all respect and heed, that common sense may become common with this new generation, that America will be back in good hands once again. Maybe we should stop and listen, lean forward and shut all the distractions of our lives off and pay attention. Listen to what they say and how they say it. We owe them that. We owe them a deep apology for what we have in our selfishness have created and done to them.

Come this March there will be a rally in Florida, and hopefully, it will grow across our country from Florida to the state of Washington. And while these ‘Kids' are at it, they can teach us about hate, how when you pass through the color, there lies bone and heart and soul, colorless and breathing. Maybe they can teach us about love, what the concept of Christianity really means, not as a separator of different beliefs in God, but that God exists among us all.

I remember hearing these lyrics once and looked them up, they are written by a lady named Isla Grant. Just read them, they say it all.

"They are crying out for peace around the world

They are telling us to stop the hurt and pain

Their smiles can melt the coldest heart

Their tears can pull your world apart

Why don't we listen to the children

Why can't you see the world their eyes can see

There is no room for hate or jealousy

And color means nothing to them

To a child, another is a friend

Why don't we listen to the children

Why don't we listen, to what they try to say

Make a world of peace for them to live in

Take a leaf out of the book

They read to us each day

Why don't we learn a lesson from the children

So everyone around the world join hands

And spread the word of love across the land

Rejoice and live in harmony

And pray that peace, at last, will be

They need the help of you and me, our children

They are crying out for peace around the world

They are telling us to stop the hurt and pain

Their smiles can melt the coldest heart

Their tears can pull your world apart

Why don't we listen to the children"

ISLA GRANT

IF SHE LIVED SHE'D BE ALIVE TODAY!

Grandma &  JoeJoe

The Street Where She Lived

Grandma Frances had a birthday every January until she died in 1991 at the age of 97! If she had taken better care of herself, she would have lived longer! But no, she insisted on eating red meats, spicy cheeses, and hard salami, wine and often got emotional. At least she didn't smoke.


Until the day she died, she was a nutritionist's nightmare, a living testimony to bad habits.


As a young teenager, I went with Dad into Brooklyn one Saturday to have his taxes made out by a friend of the family. It was tax time, and he decided to visit "Grandma", as we called her after having his income scrutinized by this friend of the family. Arriving at Grandma's house on Fulton Street, we parked the car along the curb and almost under the shadow of the el, stepping over the grating for the IND line that ran under the street, the noise saying: ‘Grandma'. By then there was deterioration of the old neighborhood occurring, so in some ways, it was a sad visit.


Grandma was all excited to see us, in her floral apron and black dress (rehearsing for when she would become a widow) and immediately grabbed my two cheeks (surrounding my nose) and with her index and middle finger, squeezed until I dropped to my knees, where she then made us stay for dinner, even though she had eaten!


Racing down her long hallway that ran adjacent to the railroad flat rooms of the bottom floor, she threw a couple of steaks in a wire holder, dropping then over an open flame on a gas stove in her basement, or cellar as we called it. As cellars went, this one was well-stocked with supplies for a nuclear attack, wine, canned tomato sauce, a refrigerator, sink, pickled eggplant and peppers and of course, various holy pictures that adorned the crude concrete texture of the footprint of the building. The smell of the meat cooking was overpowering my ability to reason, let alone my ability to speak, as my saliva activated at an uncontrollable flow, spraying instead of saying! When she returned, she took out a crusty loaf of Italian bread, some hard salami, and a hard cheese with a gallon of wine, to try to control my salivation problems.


The time it takes to say salad, she had the homemade wine, bread, cheese, and salami along with the best salad ever made, from Grandpa's homemade wine vinegar. A tasty vinegar that always made a simple salad a treat!


Grandma knew how to live, and was very generous.


Often when Dad announced the coming of grandma for a visit, once we calmed Mom down, we anticipated her stately arrival. Something like Queen Victoria arriving at the royal palace, she came usually with an entourage of aunts who, like Grandma expected to eat. To further this expectation which was greater than Hemingway's, she brought along with her cheeses, salami, and a gallon each of wine and wine vinegar, Italian bread (The countryside didn't make Italian bread like Brooklyn) roasted peppers and sometimes canned string beans. With all she did bring, she would preside center table and dispense in Italian, words of wisdom as I sat in awe of her.


As she ate she would look at me and say:


"Joe-joe, you too skinny, mangia! Why you no eater a more?"


Meanwhile, Dad was trying to remember all the hiding places the food was because all I did was eat! I tried to convey this to grandma in a diplomatic way, but Dad was within arm and earshot. And so, when her visit was over, we all respectfully escorted her to the door, with endless kissing of aunts and ladies in waiting, cheeks getting another workout and grandma's: "Joe-joe, you too skinny, mangia! Why you no eater a more?"


I miss those days, the times spent with that generation were magical, someday I will tell you about Grandpa, a man for all seasons and jobs that Grandma assigned him.

THE NEW NORMAL

I once thought that this blog would be free of political content. A place to come to and find something other than the drama that plays out every day in our media. But there is one issue that needs to be addressed, it comes to innocent people being slaughtered needlessly by criminally insane individuals going in the guise of Congress.

The fact that assault guns are in the hands of people other than military, makes the statement that years of inactivity, unwillingness to address this issue on the floors of Congress, points out to the fact that the criminally insane are those politicians who support guns as a so-called 2nd Amendment right.

The 2nd Amendment was written so that the common folk could defend themselves against tyranny by the government or foreign power, which was an uncertain entity by those who governed. The states still had sway on the population and the Federal government was still growing in power. The idea was to form a militia of ordinary citizens to prevent over-powering by the Federal government and that needed be: the state militia could defend itself. This fact through the years has been construed as the right of individual citizens arming themselves and then it turning into people owning arsenals of weapons. This concept holds a present and immediate danger to all citizens of the US by enabling those who wish to create harm and havoc on society.

The biggest culprits are the Republican-controlled Congress. Whether you are a Republican or Democrat, you know what we have now is not working, it is now at the desperation point and we must act.

I have a granddaughter who I want to have her live her life in safety, not in the crosshairs of a gun. I want her and her classmates to go to school, learn and enjoy her future, not have to cower in fear.

Speaking of cowering in fear, it seems that the Republican party is doing just that, unwilling to address the real culprit of all this mayhem, the National Rifle Association. The NRA represents money-makers who are intended to allow the slaughter under the 2nd Amendment. What they really are doing is protecting a profit base and lobby that will sacrifice our children for the sake of a buck! Shame on them and us for allowing it.

Throw the NRA the hell out of the lobby business. Make it a law that accepting money by politicians from organizations like the NRA is punishable by jail and disbarment along with the impeachment and trial for accepting those supports.

READING THE PAST

It is amazing how quickly time flies! Things I thought happened just a few years ago, when I look back I realize happened over ten years ago! How does that happen?

There are little incidents that stick out in my mind and when I recall them to my wife, Ellen, she reminds me that they happened years ago. That makes me realize I better not look at any photos from the past and then into the mirror, I will be shocked.

My high school reunion was almost 9 years ago, yet it seems like just last year. Am I living life too fast? Am I cruising the years in a souped-up state of mind?

Recently on Facebook, I was looking at celebrities from the past, photos comparing them as I remember them and how they look today. Hard to believe that they changed so much, and just how much did I change in this period of time?

As I write this, I have just finished reading old blogs of mine that date back to '07, and it is stunning that what is mentioned seems like yesterday. The blog has helped me to chronicle events that occurred in a systematic recording on a timeline that doesn't lie, you can't argue with and reminds you that you are getting old.

I visited a friend of the family this morning, to wish her farewell as she has moved to a new position that will take her out of sight and mind once she leaves tomorrow. She was reminiscing about when she came to her job and how long ago it was, with the look of incredulity that froze her face as she looked at the imaginary timeline.

Let's stop and smell the roses.

PARKLAND, FLORIDA

And so, it goes… another gun incident with at least 20 to 50 children injured. This is in the name of the insane idea that the Second Amendment gives the shooter the right to bear arms.

This is on those that feel it is an imposition of their so-called Constitutional rights to bear arms. Each and every one who supports this lie, this affront to the rights of people to safely live their lives, is responsible. They are abetting in this horror, they put the right to have a gun above the right to live.

I frankly am tired of this nonsense. We need to re-examine the interpretation of the original intent of the Second Amendment for a militia, not that a person can bear arms.

Thank you, Mr. Trump! You first need to be responsible, then all those who support you. Blood is on your hands as long as you allow the NRA to make money. This is nothing to do with gun ownership or constitutional rights, it is about making money. It uses the simple-minded people who wrap themselves in the flag and buy into the hatred, prejudice and idiotic self-righteousness of making America Great Again!

How many more children do we kill? How many more fathers won't come home to their children? How many innocent babies die from random shootings? As I write this, at least 17 people are dead. Thank you, Mr. Trump.

I deliberately chose FOX News to listen to this horror, they above all the media are responsible for this encouraging the myth of the Second Amendment, they support Trump and they are followed by those who support Trump.

Trump will give some BS to cover himself, FOX will probably ignor4e their part in this, and we will all wait for the next shooting, and there certainly will be another, as long as we have the right to carry firearms.

AH, LOVE!

AH, LOVE!

Love happens all year long, yet I don't get too excited about it. I see the ads and listen to the TV or read the papers and they all remind me, February 14th is Valentine's Day. Amateur Day in America. Make sure you tell your spouse with a card or gift that you love her/him today!

To me, every day is a love day, and I am a lucky man to have such a wonderful wife. I am comfortable with her every day of my married life, no need to send cards, get excited or fall off the planet.

Sharing our lives is a big job, love is a big job, we need to constantly make sure that we do our best, give it 100%. It is too important to slouch or lose focus on what marriage is. It is about the other person, and your commitment to love and respect, support and make easy your spouse part of the marriage joyful.

We will have a special dinner, not go out with the crowds, I won't spend an obscene amount of money for flowers that price is jacked-up for something that will die in a few days. I don't need anything in any form as a gift, she gives me a gift all year long, her devotion and honesty, love and consideration, what else do I need?
Happy Valentines day!

EVERY NOW AND THEN

Every now and then I sit with my wife at the dinner table and I take a deep breath, as deep as my wife Ellen's. We talked about a lot of things, but the prevalent conversation always returns to the same subject, our children and life experiences.

It seems that we did not live the perfect life, that we had to struggle to make our children happy. There was no perfection when we took our daughter with developmental disabilities to public places. People would stare at us, look with disdain at my daughter and their children learned well from their parents, looking at my child like she was an unwanted freak.

We were branded by events such as a child of ours died. That meant that we were poison, we were branded, that we had a stigma, a dead child and one we mourn every day who lives in a group home, you know where the little yellow bus comes for.

We have dealt with depressions, death, and disabilities, but each of us never held all the cards, no, we shared them. My wife held all the emotional cards, the love and understanding of our little girl and I held all the decision cards, what I needed to do and where I would go with this.

But in the end, if you look at life as a journey, one of triumph and disappointment, then we had the perfect situation, we had each other.

THAT'S THE LAST STRAW

As I sat with TLW (The Little Woman) over breakfast at our favorite diner, and while the waitress brought us water with straws that she gently tossed on our table, TLW asked me if I had heard of the new straw law being pressured by California.

The law being introduced this month if passed would make giving a straw to a customer in a restaurant a new crime. The penalty would be incurred on the individual waiter who violates the law:

"Under Calderon's law, a waiter who serves a drink with an unrequested straw in it would face up to 6 months in jail and a fine of up to $1,000."

Some are already pushing back on this claim stating that the fine and jail time would apply to the restaurant as an entity, not the waiter.

This bill would prohibit a food facility, where food is consumed in a restaurant from providing single-use plastic straws to consumers unless requested by the consumer.

I'm sorry, but this is stupid. Not so much that there are penalties but the out of bounds severity of those penalties.

Say for instance you work as a waiter or waitress and arrive late for work one day, due to traffic congestion and the LA traffic nightmares. Your boss reams you out in front of your co-workers or even customers, embarrassing you.

Humiliated, you plot revenge. You get your first table and immediately place an unrequested straw on the customer's table. Then you quit, who pays for this indiscretion, the boss or owner of the place?

If we are to govern ourselves, we need to govern our actions first and balance law with the consequences of what the penalty should be appropriate. But California is not the only government going nuts, Scotland of all places has a similar code to make Scotland the only plastic straw-free country in the world. Granted California should get its independence, and I'm sure the British are thinking so should Scotland.

DOMESTIC VIOLENCE

It's all the rage!

Road rage… leads to violence.

What's going on here?

 

The ‘Me-2' movement is now reaching a righteous logic, for the decency, we need to show to women. It seems that things have gone so far off track that it is depressing me. I think of all the women in the past who were domestically abused in their lives and I wonder how many more cases there are that haven't been reported?

Years ago, when immigrants from Europe settled in America, there were families that felt the wrath of abusive husbands and fathers and sometimes even wives. It seemed to be an acceptable way of living that was tolerated because ‘he' was the breadwinner.

In its many forms including economic, emotional, physical, religious, and sexual abuse, can result in disfigurement or death. Unfortunately, it is a global phenomenon that fixates on most women. It is mankind's tragedy. Let's face it, it is a fault of men's that sometimes is learned and emulated in later years by young men with their wives.

Thank God for the ‘Me 2' movement, we start by respecting women, then move forward from there. Any man who has this tendency needs to be re-educated to what is acceptable normal behavior towards women.

Not only women need to be protected these days, but old people, and children as well. The days of uncivility should have gone away years ago, with the ending of the stone age.

If you take a look at it a little closer, it isn't always evil that drives these matters, like I said the acceptance of such behavior is sometimes learned. I remember many instances where my parents would discuss someone who was a wife-beater, or an abused wife who had to watch her step for fear of beatings from her husband or significant other, be it heterosexual or homosexual relationships.

The problem in my eyes is that women are growing in so many beneficial ways for mankind, and may have been ahead of men in the emotional sense from the dawn of man. Men who think with the idea of muscle controls fear the loss of their power to control so they use their muscle.  Women are finally grabbing some of the power and protecting themselves through the courts and social media.

Having come from a home of four sisters and my mother's guiding hand, it is abhorrent to think they would ever be abused, nor would the idea of hitting my wife or children is equally unacceptable. Likewise, I expect my sons to follow that line of emotion thinking, my daughter-in-law and granddaughter are precious to me, and although I understand neither son is like that, and it gives me comfort, they must always keep in mind that respect for women is most important.

Often, I wonder just how wonderfully calming the World at large would be right now if it was run by women. Am I a feminist? I don't think so, just a realist. Maybe we could all take a hard look at the realities as they exist, with the numerous wars and corruption that have occurred in a man's world.

OH, THE PAIN!

--> I usually get my medications from Aetna Home Delivery in my mailbox. One medication I suspect they are screwing me with. I always run out of it before I should. The doctor puts in the prescriptions on time and they have clearly indicated on the return the dosage.

So, of course, there is a master plan that should work and doesn't. To the last possible day do I get the meds, not one day sooner.

Then they arrive and I go through the list and discover, the medication I always fall short on is really short this time. I should get a three-month supply, 90 pills, instead I get 7 pills and notice the med has no refills. So, what do I do? I call my doctor. (You thought I was going to say I took a nap)

I reach for my cell phone and call the boy, and this is what I get

"Doctors office"

"Hi, my name is Joe Delbloggolo, and I'm Dr. Ponchovilla's patient. I got my meds in the mail today and I am short 83 pills of Ramamucchie that I take once a day. All I got was 7 and it can no longer be refilled.

"Your doctor is?"

"Ponchovilla"

"And you are???"

"Joe Delbloggolo"

"And you are calling, why?"

"Because I'm short 83 pills of Ramamucchie."

"What is your birthdate?"

"July, way back when."

"Are you Joseph?"

This person speaks perfect English, she just doesn't understand it. This is of course, different from my usual complaint of not understanding what I usually get on the phone. Accents can be excused because this is America, stupidity takes some adjustment.

AS CATALOGUES GO

Yesterday I was perusing a catalog from a company that sells all kinds of product. The product list is considerable and covers a lot of different areas. Some of the product are whimsical, some seem like a good idea and some just plain dumb.

In the catalog was an insert from a company I followed for years for their techniques in selling collectible products. Things like coins, South African Krugerrands and dolls among many other things are sold with impressive sales pitches usually in the form of collectibles. They offer certificates of ‘Authenticity' and make the readers want to buy these things. Miniature cars cast in some metal made in plastic are sold as if they really were valuable.

Back in the 80's, collectible plates were a big thing, and when you had the series, they had you.

As I was reading the different little pup set ads, something fell out of the catalog, a free-standing insert by this company, and let me tell you, people will buy anything, just make up a reason.

On the inset was a lamp that they expect people with taste to set in their homes on a desk, table or what have you, of the ugliest thing I have ever seen being sold, Yoda the Jedi, his words and a shade that comes with all this for $21.99!

I would rather own a statue of Buddha or Christ with the spiritual implications than this Yoda with its commercial links, void of any philosophic reasons other than filling someone's pockets.