"This vile politician." (Henry IV)

.....Need to get something straightened out here. I happen to be a registered Democrat, but I do have some very good friends... readers and relatives who belong to, or who vote for Republican candidates on election days. They also scold me with comments on occasion when I run off politically at the mouth...and that's OK. It becomes a political debate, and I'm all for debating. In college I was a hot debater. But I don't want to get anyone mad at me, especially BF & JT & PB & RH (that's Higgins, not RH+. There's a difference). Besides, in my newspaper's editorial page, there's a column almost every day with Obama bashing. So, I feel perfectly fine bashing someone or something else. That evens the playing field, so to speak.

.....Now, to change the subject violently...so to speak, I have lost my VA psychiatrist whom I never have to pay, fortunately, and now I have to break another one in. I had an appointment with Dr. Ellen Zayas yesterday, and when I got to her office--there was Mary Stone. Mary is an ARNP; I guess that means a registered nurse practitioner and she was there to practition on me. I guess because between Iraq and Afghanistan the VA is running out of shrinks who treat PTSD. Dr. Zayas was called upon to doctor somewhere else for some unknown reason to me, and I have been seeing her now for about ten years. I'm kind of leery about having an ARNP work with me...being 'sui generis' I'm a very difficult case. Anyway, Mary is a very nice ARNP; the first thing she said to me was "Tell me about yourself." I guess she learned that introductory statement in ARNP school. Well, I said, "Mary, I only have 60 minutes with you, and it will take me four and a half hours to tell you about myself since my life involves 86 years of it. Perhaps you can afford to buy my autobiography for $22 on Amazon." Naturally, working for the VA she couldn't afford it so I told her about myself and when I was finished she said, "Norman, you are remarkable; you are a smart Forrest Gump!" Funny, I never thought about myself that way.

.....By now, you must have guessed that this blog is multi-hued in order to differentiate among the various blog themes. I thought this up all by myself. Among my many thoughts that rarely give birth to anything is the thought of teaching a poetry class here in the clubhouse. I did teach about two dozen classes in Shakespeare several years ago. I can't do that anymore for the same reasons I don't play golf or jog anymore; takes too much work and energy. But a poetry class would be different. I kind of miss the teaching profession. I don't know how many people would register for the class, but the Shakespeare classes were well attended. We would read, discuss, analyze and write poetry. I'd start off with one of my favorites; "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock." And then a Canterbury tale or two, and then a few bars of "Paradise Lost" and "The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam." If you care to register, the tuition will be $35. Come one. Come all.

Reminiscences in the rear view mirror (Part II)

.....I went to a show at our theatre last night and heard a "chanteuse" sing some songs that have always been favorites of mine, such as Send in the Clowns, and from Evita, Don't Cry for me Argentina. I have, fortunately, lived a long and eventful life and those songs reminded me of all the wonderful people and events that I have enjoyed. So let's begin with movies I've enjoyed: Casablanca, Gone With the Wind, Hamlet (with Olivier), The Razor's Edge, City Lights, Dracula, Frankenstein, King Kong, Duck Soup, It Happened One Night, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, The Adventures of Robin Hood, Stagecoach, The Wizard of Oz, The Grapes of Wrath, Citizen Kane, Great Expectations, The Treasure of the Sierra Madre, Sunset Boulevard, Singin' in the Rain, High Noon, On the Waterfront, La Dolce Vita, The Graduate, 2001: A Space Odyssey, Midnight Cowboy, The Godfather I & II, Blazing Saddles, Annie Hall, E.T. the Extra Terrestrial, Pulp Fiction, and probably many more that have lapsed into my memory and can't get out. But I am totally thankful that I have lived to see these films starring great actors.

.....And I am thankful that I have lived to see Clark Gable, Cary Grant, Woody Allen, Fred Astaire, Lauren Bacall, John Barrymore, Lionel Barrymore, Ingrid Bergman, Kenneth Branagh, Marlon Brando, Richard Burton, James Cagney, Charlie Chaplin, Ronald Colman, Gary Cooper, Clint Eastwood, Douglas Fairbanks, Errol Flynn, Greta Garbo, Sir John Gielgud, Katherine Hepburn, Charles Laughton, Laurel & Hardy, Marx Bros., Marilyn Monroe, Paul Muni, Laurence Olivier, Tyrone Power, Spencer Tracy, John Travolta, Humphrey Bogart, and who knows how many more I've enjoyed. If this is a long list, don't forget I was born in 1924 at the height of the Great Depression.

.....and I've seen some tremendous athletes up close and in person: Babe Ruth, Ted Williams, Stan Musial, Lou Gehrig, Yogi Berra, Mickey Mantle, Bob Feller, Hank Aaron, James Brown, Greg Davis & "Doc" Blanchard, Sid Luckman, Tom Seaver, Duke Snider, Jackie Robinson, Carl Lewis, Wilt Chamberlain, Michael Jordan, Gale Sayers, Johnny VanderMeer, Ewell Blackwell, James Brown, Tommy Harmon & Barack Obama. Sure, I left several out--but these guys, to me, are memorable.

.....and I've seen and heard some truly great vocalists: Frank Sinatra, Barbra Streisand, Judy Garland, Gene Kelly, Al Jolson, Bing Crosby, Tony Bennett, Liza Minnelli, Aretha Franklin, Elvis Presley, John Lennon, Bob Dylan, Billie Holiday, Whitney Houston, Neil Young & Elton John. ....and dancers, Fred Astaire, Ginger Rogers, James Cagney, and Gene Kelly. Oh there be many other singers and dancers you and I can add to the list, but it's not your list--it's my list. If you care to name a few that I haven't mentioned, that you may care to write in a comment, well be my guest. I'd love to hear from you. I haven't even begun to mention all the technological and magical machines that I've witnessed, such as radio, TV, Records, Eight Track Tapes (Ugh!), CDs, Computers, Jet planes, Atomic Bombs, Cell Phones, iPods, 3D, HD, and etc.

.....What about Presidents? Well, it's a short list: FDR, JFK, Bill Clinton, and Barack Obama. Sue me.

"...is there not some reason to fear I may be wrong?" (Austen)

(Actually, Sat. August 28, 2010)

.....There's a zillionaire politician here in Florida who spent $50 million dollars on his campaign to get elected. This fact made me want to throw up just thinking about how many people could be fed with that money instead of feeding his ego. How many homes could be built in Haiti; how much good that much money could do in New Orleans. So, he wanted power and celebrity and he decided he could buy it as though it were on sale in WalMart. With this kind of money being invested for the purpose of having a seat in government, then we now have to be realistic and consider whether or not we have a democracy here in America or a "plutocracy"--a system of government where people of wealth have undue influence over the political process.

.....In the past and recently there have been many examples of wealthy people, organizations, and corporations exerting financial pressure on our governments--local, state, and national--to pass favorable legislation. Of course, realistically and lawfully, campaign donations or gifts of any kind should have no effect on the legislative decisions of our elected representatives. Yeah, right.

.....This morning's newspaper featured a column by Bill Reilly, a Fox news pride and joy, and an arrogant, right wing prig if I ever read or heard one. All he ever can think of to write about is something with which he can bash "liberals" or especially Obama because they don't think as rightly as he does about political issues in this country. He writes about liberals and democrats as though they were aliens from another planet who have no right to an idea unless they adopt his. For example, today's column involves the issue of the mosque being built near ground zero.

Reilly claims that "Americans are not stupid. They understand that New York City has more than a 100 mosques. One more near the site where fanatical Muslims murdered thousands of innocent people is certainly not necessary."

.....In other words, those liberals, like Obama, who believe the mosque should be built are not only stupid, but obviously they are not Americans because "Americans are not stupid." Also, one wonders how his Americans understand how many mosques exist in New York City? And lastly, when was Reilly named a judge to decide what is or is not "necessary"?

.....Meanwhile, in the midst of Reilly's column, he exults gleefully in stating that the "far-left" media--like CNN, MSNBC, Newsweek, Time, The New York Times, and the Washington Post "...face economic disaster." Meanwhile he claims that "...the anti-liberal Fox News Channel and The Wall Street Journal are doing very well." The Wall Street Journal?? Who would've guessed? $50 million bought an election here.

... The irony in all this is that I believe that the proposed mosque ought not to be built where so many died and where so many are still grieving and who, no doubt, still garner hatred of Islam. And I can understand and empathize with that feeling as it was Muslim extremists who were responsible for murdering my son-in-law in Lebanon in 1990, and who changed my family's life. But for Mr. Reilly's information, I'm an American, I'm a liberal, and a Democrat and I am not stupid. I'll stack my education up to his anytime.

"I fear I am not in my perfect mind." (King Lear)

.....Since I can't think of anything else to write about today, I guess I'll just continue with the theme of the past few days. That'll be fun! Here are some quotes from the news on Comcast:

Jet misses runway and crashes in China, killing 42...Not the best pilot.

Tiger Woods, Elin officially divorced....Not the best husband.

Van Driver Pleads 'Not Guilty' In Day Care Death.. .Not the best van driver.

Brady: I hate Jets, won't watch show. Not the best sport.

Texas driver dies at Iowa raceway...Not the best racing driver.

Favre has turned retirement into a hustle...Not the most trustworthy player.

Construction crane sinks into water .... Not the best crane!!

.....Just shows how much care needs to be made when making choices. I do acknowledge that accidents do happen, but who knows why? There, no doubt, are many reasons, but perhaps they might be avoided with more judicious...???...and better, wiser...??? Now, as far as "the best" is concerned, when it comes to cookies, Mallomars beat all others and when it comes to hot dogs, it's ... Nathan's. Best baseball team--Yankees (although there are and have been excellent teams, the Yankees have the repute); best football team--Notre Dame; best soccer team--North Shore Vikings; best porn flick--Devil and Miss Jones; best play--Hamlet (by far!); best President--Abe (Latest poll shows 23% of Americans still think he was Jewish because he is called "Abe" and was shot in the temple). OK. I'll leave the rest up to you guys even though my brain is still teeming. I am so tired, and night is approaching stealthily.

"The best is the best..." (Quiller-Couch)

.....I have a former student of mine who back in antiquity was short, thin, and somewhat shy. He is now retired and we do communicate with each other, and once in a while when he comes down here to visit his mom, we go to breakfast or to lunch. He is now tall, well-built and quite athletic. He and his son recently won a father-son golf tournament. He may have been my student at one time, but now that I've met him all grown up, I love him like a brother. Once in a blue moon, he takes exception to something I write in my blog, and yesterday was no exception for him to take an exception. He is no longer shy. I think it would be of interest to others who read this to read his comment on my blog yesterday--and my response:

.....Doc, I take exception to the "lesser school" designation. I worked in "higher" education for almost 40 years and found many of those Ivy League graduates to be pompous, arrogant and intellectually and academically overrated. Many believe the hardest part of an Ivy education is getting in (and we know how many ways there are these days to accomplish that) while many of your smaller "lesser" schools like Haverford, Swarthmore, Dickinson, Bard, et all offer smaller classes all taught by full time professors who aren't wrapped up in outside grants and turning things over to TA's.

.....HI Bob: You miss my point, entirely. I agree that you can find some Ivy League graduates who are “pompous, arrogant, etc, etc,” but obviously I was not referring to that type of graduate. Why would I? I agree that there are wonderful, and excellent schools outside of the Ivy League perimeter. Of course there are. I do not mean to denigrate the type of school you mention—I wouldn’t do that--but I was taking exception to the people I’ve met who are so concerned about having only Ivy Leaguers on the Supreme court—and so what is so bad about that? It took some time & work for them to get there.

.....By a “lesser” school, I simply meant one without the reputation of the Ivy League, not one with the solid credentials of the schools you mention which may be just as good as the Ivys-- not like "Benedict Arnold U." However, if my child had a choice of a scholarship to Harvard or C.W. Post. I’m sending him to the former no matter how good the latter is. ( I taught there.) There is no doubt, at least in my mind, that he would have a huge advantage upon graduation for employment—and that may be due to employers’ “arrogance”. For who would bear “…the spurns that patient merit of the unworthy takes?" And if I’m looking for a doctor for my child—or me-- I’m going to want the best doctor I could find, and so I’m going to want to look at his credentials. And in school, I'd want him to have Phil Bergovoy. (So would I). And I, myself, could never settle for anything less than to be the best--and so I try to abide by the concept of applying ruthless personal standards of excellence in my life. If this makes me an “elitist” so be it.

.....You and I, young man, see the world from different perspectives. I went through a war and when I fly a combat mission, I want a pilot who was at the top of his class at Naval Air School; I want a Navigator who was at the top of his class; I want a mechanic who was at the top of his class; I want an ordnance man who was at the top of his class; I want a radio operator, a belly gunner, a top turret gunner and a waist gunner who were at the top of their classes. Of course, I am not always going to get what I want, but if I don’t come close with guys like these, I fear that my chances of surviving the war diminish critically.

"The disease is beyond my practice." (Macbeth)

.....I had an appointment with my cardiologist the other day which was scheduled for 11:15am. Rho and I arrived in plenty of time at 11:14am. We were called in at 11:25 by a nurse, who weighed me even with my heavy shoes on, which I felt, was unfair. Then we were ushered through a maze of corridors until we finally arrived at a claustrophobic room where she took my blood pressure. She then went over every medication that I take with Rho, since I have no idea about the meds I take; she's committed them to memory. The nurse then left the room saying we would see the doctor, "shortly"; I replied, "Yeah, that's what they all say." We made this appointment specifically for the purpose of getting all the results of tests while I was in the hospital, so we could find out if anyone knew why I had severe chest pains (#10) last Saturday night. I had x-rays, an ultra sound, a catscan, a stress test, and whatever I can't remember. Well, "shortly" went by very quickly and we found ourselves waiting in that room until 12:15pm! One hour past my appointment time. I found that unacceptable, and I told Rho that I was leaving. And she followed me out the door, never to return. Stay tuned.

.....When we first went into this cardiology facility where four doctors had banded together to treat ailing citizens, the office was filled with patients using canes, walkers, scooters, mopeds, & bicycles--or whatever vehicles they needed to help them get there.

.....Before we left, we asked the nurse at the front desk what happened to our doctor. The reply was the standard, "Oh, he had an emergency." I then asked the next question, "Well, why didn't someone have the courtesy to come to our room to inform us of that, so that we could get out of there and make another appointment?" There could not be any response to that question, of course, because no other excuse was available. I told Rho to find another cardiologist--not that they're in short supply down here.

.....Turning my attention now from doctors to judges, at least for a few words, I've heard some complaints from people about the fact that all our Supreme Court judges are Ivy League trained, and claiming that someone from a lesser school should be chosen. On our court, I'm guessing five from Harvard, three from Yale and one from Columbia. That's definitely an elitist group. So why the complaint? Is there something amiss about having a smart judge on the court?

.....If you needed a doctor to do a heart transplant for you, would you opt for one who graduated magna cum laude from Benedict Arnold U. or one from Princeton, summa cum laude who did an internship at Cleveland Clinic? It makes sense to me to have the brightest people in the positions where they are needed--at least that's what Plato taught. I am satisfied if I can find the brightest and finest trained doctors, the fairest judge to decide my prison term, the highly schooled hair stylist, a top-notch quarterback on my team, an inspiring teacher, an experienced and skillful pilot on my aircraft, and a brilliant wife! Those are the people I want in my life. So far, I've been lucky. Get on the bandwagon.

My Mea Culpa

.....Recently, I was admonished by a British cousin who earns a living by writing poetry for people who want to give a poem to somebody for a birthday gift; a choice which saves them a shilling or two from having to get something real from Harrod's. Ms. Grimsley told me to stop publishing "kudos" from former students. Let me remind Ms. Grimsley that I have also published "unkudos" from former students. Here's one from a former student in a penitentiary:

.....“Dr. Ross” – "I hesitate to use the word “Dear” thou bird-brained, clack-pot, codpiece, because you are anything but dear to me. Ever since I was in your class in 1905 I can’t get what you taught me out of my head, and it has caused me much grief , poverty, and homelessness. I have been unable to get a job because of you ever since my graduation in 1908. I tried to land one with General Motors, and when they asked me what I could do, and how I could be an asset to them in selling cars, I said, cheerfully, 'Well, I can answer the phone after your operator says, ‘If you speak Beowulf, press 3' and then I can say, ‘Hwaet we Gar-Dena, in gear-dagum, theode-cyninga’. Then, sir, from there I can tell them all about your cars, delighting them with an introduction to the Malibu in middle English, 'Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, the droghte of Marche hath perced to the roote'. I think, sir, it’s only fair to give credit for this linguistic asset to my old teacher, “Doc” Ross. .....At that point, thou reeky boil-brained miscreant, Ross, I was told, in no uncertain terms, and ironically, in modern English, that I was an “ass”, not an “asset” and to vacate the premises as rapidly as humanly possible. Which I fearfully and tearfully did. And here it is 2010, and I didn’t even have the wherewithal to attend my class’s 100th Reunion last year when I was invited by the other two who went. So, each day I stand at the entrance to a nursing home greeting visitors with a piece of cardboard whereon I have written 'By the Holy Rood, will work for food.' Then with the pittance of cash I receive, I rush to Barnes & Noble to buy a book of poetry which I can read in the library to people who throw coupons at me. Finally, at night, I curl up at the Florida Turnpike with a copy of the 'Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam'. So, eat a crocodile, Ross, thou addlepated craven dewberry."

"With the help of a surgeon, he might yet recover..." (MSND)

.....Well, I did a disappearing act the last few days because I was hospitalized with I still don't know what. All I know is that four of us went to a Chinese restaurant for a lobster dinner, and when we finished and started out for my car, I began to feel a tightness in my chest--but I drove everyone home anyway. Just so happens that the other couple lives on our floor. When we got home and I walked for the elevator I told Rho to call 9/11 because by this time the pain in my chest was not bearable--as they say, a 10. In the lobby by our elevator I sat on the bench and waited for the fire/rescue guys who came in about five minutes. They whisked me into the truck and on the way to the hospital they zapped me with some nitro-G. Rho and Annette followed me to the ER where the nurse poured some more nitro and some morphine into my body. However, it did little good; the severe pain lasted about an hour and a half, but then the medication die take over and the pain was slowly alleviated. If that hadn't happened, I would have shot myself with my starter's pistol. That wouldn't have done much good either.

.....I spent three nights and three days three days in that facility and they took every test imaginable that didn't feel good;i.e an X-Ray, a Catscan, an Ultra-Sound and as I recall, a Thalium Stress Test. Me--who ran two marathons couldn't do it on a treadmill. Did I get any results? No. Several doctors looked in on me; a cardiologist, a pulmonologist, my internest, a gastroenterologist(!) and several curious nurses who wanted to see what everyone was raving about--a good looking older guy. What I didn't see, but should have was a psychiatrist. I"m home now, but by this time, you could tell that I arrived here as a raging lunatic. I'm not even going to write anything about the food--my gorge rises at the thought. What puzzled me no end was why the nurses continually insisted at putting my urinal at a point where I could not reach it without a whale-hook. Hospitals are not what they used to be; they're worse.

.....If anyone is interested, there are a few comments on the previous blog: primarily about the 50th Reunion of North Shore High School's Class of 1960! Over 100 people attended. Let's see; if the kids were about 18 when they graduated, they must almost all be about--shall we say, 68? Well on their way to canes, walkers, medication, scooters, and wheelchairs. But seriously; what Phil B. writes about that party is very interesting. I wonder how many people would attend the 70th reunion of my class of '41? I most likely have much more to write about, but it will have to wait. I'm not "with it"--as perhaps you can witness.

"I have been a traveler in a strange land." (Exodus)

.....My well-traveled son and daughter-in-law who have almost covered the globe with their cash and their luggage have recently decided to engrave their footsteps on the streets of Poland, Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania, Russia & etc. Why they chose those blah countries for a vacation I have no idea, except perhaps that they haven't been there. When my son was laboring for "the agency" he and my two grandchildren resided in England, Panama, & Okinawa. RH+ and I went to see them in England in 1983 while on our honeymoon. If memory serves me (as lately it hasn't) we were there for a month. We could not visit them in Panama because we did not trust Noriega. Only kidding. Actually, I wasn't up to it at the time--mentally or physically. Unfortunately, I did not have the opportunity to see JR's and Barbara's kids as they were growing up. Unfortunately, they didn't have the opportunity of seeing me either. Going back at a time when JR graduated from Cornell, he began teaching in Tenterfield, Australia (wherever that is). I did learn that they forced him to play rugby and to drink beer. He writes all about his experiences in the book, "Phases of the Moon" which he recently published. Coincidentally, Barbara also went to Australia to teach in Sydney and they dated there. Then after a couple of years, they returned to the States by a circuitous route touching down in several European countries and then, married.

.....Today, I received the following e-mail from St. Petersburg:

We left Estonia and drove many hours to St. Petersburg. Our third and last night is tonight. It is a beautiful city. However, it is very hot, and Russians do not believe in AC or cold drinks or ice (except maybe outside in winter). I bought a can of Coke from a hotel vending machine, and the can was actually warm. So we called the front desk and asked that they send some ice to our room (there are no ice machines). They agreed, if we would pay $4 for the ice. So I went without Coke. Did I mention that we are staying at a "4-star" hotel?

..... I reminded him that when I traveled (ages ago), I usually carried my own ice. Anyway, the rigors of traveling require too much planning and too much labor. It all starts with the excitement and anticipation of the pleasures that would ensue. Au contraire. The excitement begins to thaw and the pleasures to dissipate when you must decide what clothing to bring; then comes the packing; when you think you've concluded, the fear that you might not have packed properly for the destination requires that you stuff the baggage to the point where the airline would jump for joy considering the fee that they would collect for the overweight. (I don't really mean that the airline could actually "jump"; I'm only using an appropriate metaphor.) But, if you're off to the Caribbean on a cruise, you'll, naturally, have to pack an extra tech vest or sweat suit in the event there is a cold wave.

.....It never used to be this way, but nowadays, in this fear-infested globe, you have to practically disrobe before you may board your flight. After they make me take off my shoes to see if I planted a bomb in them, (A bomb? I can't even get my socks on) they do not offer to put them back on me again. It's a good thing I have a nimble wife to assist me because I haven't seen my knees in a long time, and bending down more than a few inches would bring on a 911 call. The new trick in the airport is a machine that allows an agent to view your nude body (or is it "naked"). If the agent had to look at bodies like mine every minute of every day, he would most likely have to keep one of those barf bags close by. Of course, if it's a female agent, I try to look my best.

"The Road not Taken" (Frost)

.....Now, in the past couple of days I've been getting e-mails from Facebook claiming that I have messages waiting there for me from friends. I consider that very nice, but I want nothing to do with Facebook, Footbook, Toebook, Bellybook, Assbook, or Twitter-de-dee or Twitter-de-dom. I get there and I haven't the slightest clue as to what needs to be done or how to do it. There are thumbnail pictures of people I never heard of as well as thumbnails of those I do know. Of those who are listening now, if you would like to send me a message about this blog or anything else, please send it to my e-mail address, norrho1@comcast.net--or if it's a comment about a blog, then send the comment from the blog--it's simple...even I know how to do it. Remember, I'm not a techie or a teenager...I' just a poet. I know nothing about ipods, epods, or peapods. So, comfort me; I do not wish to walk on that road.

.....Speaking of poetry, if you go to this link: http://www.poemhunter.com/ Type my name in the "Search" box. It will take you to another page that states "Sorry, no results found" which is an outright canard, because in the left hand column you will see my name, and if you click on it you will be taken to a list of my poems. Click on any one--or all--and you can have the pleasure of reading them. I have about 40 more which I will enter at this site at the rate of about one-a-day. So, don't lose hope. Actually, I have no idea why I am entering poetry here, because the chances of anyone reading them or commenting on them or rating them are just about zero. But it gives me something to do. I'm retired, you know.

.....At any rate, you this is a great web site, because you get to read the poetry of almost every poet you choose--if you are so inclined. They even rate the 500 best poems. I think they were smoking something while they were rating some of them, because some of them do not qualify as poetry in my opinion...a poem, perhaps...but not poetry. Poetry is getting Democrats elected. That does not make me a bad person just because I said that. I was brought up Jewish with a voting for Democrat gene, and if and when I decide to go, I go to a synagogue. If you are Protestant or Episcopalian, or Ethiopian, you may have a very different and wrongful gene, and you were brought up to go to a church--if and when you decide to go. O! I forgot! This is a segment about poetry! You see what happens when you pass 80. So, take my advice and don't walk on that road; it's definitely not poetic.

"History...is a race between education and catastrophe." (H.G. Wells)

.....Just read Forbes list of "best colleges" and I'll just share them with you. 1)Williams2)Amherst 3)Princeton 4)USMA 5)MIT 6)Stanford 7)Swarthmore 8)Harvard 9)Claremont McKenna???????10) Yale 11)USAFA 12)Wellesley 13)Columbia!!! Ha! It'a about time they got to my University. But I don't trust that number. There follows some schools I never heard of: Pomona, Carleton, Claremont McKenna, Harvey Mudd. Harvey Mudd????I wonder if Mudd has a football team. None of these schools, with the exception of the two military academies have tuition under $35,000! That means a four year education would cost parents $140,000 plus dorm, food, and book fees!! And some of these are state schools. One wonders what an out of state student would have to pay. Imagine how long it would take a student to carry on the burden of a loan. Of course if you are 6'11--black or white, or if you are 6'4 and weigh 310lbs, you probably would not have to pay a dime in some schools. I'm not certain if the first 10 on the list would have athletic scholarships. Perhaps valedictorians might get a break. But I'm very thankful that I don't have college age children any more. I did have four at one time, but only two made it to college. One went to Cornell and another to Oneonta in upstate NY. One got an MA degree and one received an honorary doctorate and had a dorm with her name on the building. The two who turned down college nevertheless went on to have excellent careers. The only problem I have now is that on August 27, two of them aver that they will turn 55. Then the collegiates--one claims that he is 58, the other that she is 59. I cannot accept these outrageous claims. Children ought not to prevaricate to their parents. I'm sure I brought them up better than that.

.....This afternoon RH+ and I went to a friend's 80th birthday party at a nearby restaurant named "Cafe Provence". This luncheon began at 12pm, a time when I usually have my breakfast. I was served a dish of shrimp on linguini. The sauce was very lemony and the entire dish was vile. I managed to chomp on one shrimp. I'm not accustomed to eat that kind of food fare for breakfast. Finally the dessert came--first a slice of birthday cake, and then some apple strudel. Not bad. I washed it down with a cup of coffee. At this luncheon I noticed six canes (not counting mine) and about five walkers. Everybody there looked at least 80 to me, with the exception of RH+ who sat next to me. I could tell just by looking at her that it would be a few years before she turns 80. The bad part is that when she's 80, I'll be 94, and who knows whether or not I will be non compos mentis, "sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."

"Something is rotten in the State of Denmark" (Hamlet)

.....I have a few things to say, and I hardly know where to begin; so I'll just begin with an item I read in the paper today. It seems that Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, a Republican, of course---but that doesn't make him a bad person--would like to see Congress take another look at the 14th Amendment. That section of our Constitution guarantees U.S. citizenship to every child born in America, whatever the parentage. In other words, Mitch is apparently concerned that the child of an illegal immigrant might one day become President of the United States. What a horrible thought! David Broder of the Washington Post claims that if this is an example of what it would mean to have more Republicans on Capitol Hill, "watch out."

.....This bit of news about what McConnell is looking forward to is one of the things that is depressing me about what is happening in this country that is uniquely unexperienced in the annals of my memory. It seems that there are all kinds of bickering and bashing going on. The bickered bashees are Obama, Palin, the Tea Party, the Democrats, the Republicans, Fox News, TV Personalities, Joe, the plumber, the Media, and the man on the street. The bashers are Obama, Palin, the Tea Party, the Democrats, the Republicans, Fox News, etc., etc. I'm beginning to feel like Hamlet who said, "O! God! How, weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable appear to me all the uses of this world. Fie on it! O! Fie." I find myself in agreement with that appraisal and I am also fie-ing all that needs fie-ing upon.

.....For example: I am fie-ing, O! fie-ing the fact that the recently opened South Florida National Cemetery, located in nearby Lantana, has two entrances that are barely noticeable to travelers riding by. One would think that there would at least be obvious, well groomed landscaping, with the South Florida National Cemetery's name engraved in marbled stone, and gated entries. Now, there exists right across the road from this National Cemetery, a well manicured and richly endowed housing community who are for some reason being protected from the draconian results they feel would accrue to that community from a too-well noticeable entrance to this--heaven forbid! cemetery. Now, I would think that the war veterans interred there would supersede any bruised sensibilities of the residents of nearby housing facilities whose names and entranceways are very well documented. Fie on them! I say.

.....Now, one might ask why am I so vehemently fie-O! fie-ing the preceding accounts. Well, back in the 20th Century, at a time when George W. Bush occupied the White House, he summoned my daughter to Washington to become the Undersecretary of Veterans' Affairs for Memorial Affairs. This meant that, after confirmation by the Senate, she would be a member of his cabinet responsible for overseeing every National Cemetery in the United States. The National Cemetery in Lantana was funded and approved on her watch. As a matter of fact, she sent one of her employees down here and she asked me to help him pick out a proper site for the cemetery. He and I drove around all day to five different locations in West Palm Beach, and I, myself and me, picked out the very same spot where the South Florida National Cemetery exists today. And so I was proud to help my daughter, do something worthwhile for the country. And now, I would like to see the country cut the crap.

"Much have I traveled in the realms of gold." (Keats)

.....For those readers who have been late reading these blogs, I went for the first time out of curiosity--and something to do--to a Poetry Workshop held at our local public library last Tuesday. Well, thanks to JR, my son, I have some information about the lady who runs the class, Stacie Kiner. She is listed in the library newsletter as an "...award winning poet." I couldn't find any information by googling her name. Her background, disappointingly, doesn't amount to much, really. I haven't been able to track down any of her poetry. But according to Joel (formerly of the CIA) she has been published in the "Madison Review" which is the undergraduate magazine of the University of Wisconsin. I can match that one, because I was published in "Quarto" the literary magazine of the School of General Studies in Columbia University. In fact I have Pres. Eisenhower's signature on the cover of that magazine. I wonder if that could be worth something on E-Bay?? Also, Ms. Kiner is a recipient of the "Hannah Kahn Award". I have had no success in learning about that one. And finally, her poem or poetry has appeared in "The Apalachee Review", a publication originating in Tallahassee, Florida. I don't mean to denigrate Ms. Kiner's poetic accomplishments, but apparently she has had no teaching experiences that I know of, and it shows in the class she is conducting.

.....The poem she chose to discuss with a classful of seniors--mostly elderly women--was John Donne's "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning" purportedly addressed to his wife, but more likely to his mistress, in which he forbids crying and sighing at his demise because their love is too strong for such wringing of hands. Their love, he says, is not a separation, but it is more like "...gold to airy thinness beat." (Considering the price of gold these days, I don't think it wise to beat it to airy thinness). Donne is considered the leader of a group of poets in the 17th Century called the "metaphysicals" Their style was characterized by wit and "metaphysical conceits"--far fetched or unusual similes or metaphors, such as in Andrew Marvell's comparison of the soul with a drop of dew." I bring this up because I don't think a discussion of metaphysical poetry is appropriate for the group in Ms. Kiner's class.

.....Well, as I wrote in the August 4 blog, Ms. Kiner distributed copies of a poem by Anne Sexton, a Pulitzer Prize winner, called "Angels of the Love Affair". Again, she is a member of a school of poets called "confessionalists" whose poetry is so introspective and flagellative (I just made up that word) that it borders on the unintelligible. Another "school" that I deem inappropriate for a large group of elderly men and women who may not care to read about Anne Sexton's views on her bouts with her toilet, adultery, masturbation, isolation, depression, suicide, and despair. I believe Ms. Kiner is a nice young woman; her poetry may be excellent; I haven't read any--but I question her judgment about how to conduct this class wherein I believe the "students" would like to read and analyze intelligible poetry and possibly how to better write their own poetry. We'll see what happens next Tuesday.

.....And now, I will close today's blog by admitting an error I made when I wrote that August 14 was VJ Day. September 2 is VJ Day and August 14 marks the end of WWII if anyone wishes to quibble about it.

.....Secondly, I received a blog comment from a former student, Hugh Gilson, whose e-mail address I would love to have.

....Thirdly, speaking of gold--Rhoda, like alchemists of old, you turn my life's base metal into gold.

.....Fourthly, I know. I know. I said I was finished writing these things. I lied. Sue me.

"Cry 'Havoc!" and let slip the dogs of war." (Julius Caesar)

.....This month marks the 65th anniversary of the surrender of Japan and the end of WWII. On August 6th, 1945, the Enola Gay dropped the A-Bomb on Hiroshima which killed over 100,000 people, a number that seems incredible and uncivilized. I don't really know if President Truman and his Generals truly realized what the resultant loss of lives would be because of that weapon and their decision to use it. Some people have asked why the city had not been warned of that impending drop so that they could escape it--as we in Florida flee hurricanes after being warned. We have names for our hurricanes, and that bomb was named "Big Boy". But if that populace had been warned, you may be certain that the Japanese would have had a hundred Zeros guarding that city, awaiting the arrival of our B-29. If my plane had been there to escort and protect Big Boy, I would not have been very happy at being in the line of fire once more. I had enough of that in Europe during my 60 missions there.

.....As I was eating my breakfast this morning of a bagel loaded with cream cheese and chunk whitefish (Mmmmm), I read in the morning paper an article on the forum page written by Thomas Wenski, the archbishop of the Catholic Diocese of Miami. That we dropped that bomb, wrote Rev. Wenski--or whatever title he uses-- "...is still, after all...a reason for much soul searching." He continues, "While our cause was just...the indiscriminate and disproportionate attacks ...violated basic moral norms." The Archbishop goes on to quote Vatican II which he avers taught, "Every act of war directed to the indiscriminate destruction of whole cities ...is a crime against God and man, which merits firm and unequivocal condemnation." Wenski continues with this same theme that this bombing and the terror attacks on London and Coventry as well as the fire bombings of Dresden, Hamburg and Tokyo were all products of a "total war mentality". He very naively insists that this represented an abandonment of our Christian tradition that insists a just war must be limited in both its ends and its means.

.....Now, a "just war" can have two interpretations. One is that a country has a right to defend itself against its enemies; the other meaning of a "just war", according to Wenski is that the combatants should be nice and fair to each other. Well, according to my own thinking, if two or more countries are at war with each other, each side's aim is to win the war. Any other result would be traumatic and perhaps catastrophic. Throughout all history, one side attempts to win a war through development of a better mousetrap--or weapon. Were the Greeks un-Christian for developing the "Trojan Horse" and then ravishing Troy--soldiers as well as civilians during the night while they were all asleep? Why, yes, they were--but they won the war, and many Greek lives were thus saved. Colin Powell has said that if you go to war you must go with overwhelming force--and the object is to win, and to win as swiftly as possible so as to save lives--on both sides.

.....August 14 is, and should be, celebrated as VJ Day--victory over Japan. Although the Japanese prefer that we call it "Victory in the Pacific". Well, it really doesn't matter what you call it. What I know is that if Archbishop Wenski were in my squadron, I would mind very much if he were my commanding officer. If Truman had not made his decision, and if we used "conventional" warfare, perhaps more than 100,000 American and Allied lives had been lost. Perhaps even mine. And perhaps some men and women of the "Greatest Generation" who won World War II would not be attending services in his diocese if they had to land "justly" on the beaches of Japan.

"The truest poetry is the most feigning..." (AYLI)

.....I've gotten to the point in my retirement where I have nothing much to do but play games on the PC -- such as scrabble, Aloha solitaire, and perhaps, at times when I want to flagellate myself, chess. Then all gets boring and I try to find a soccer game on the Gol channel. But since watching the World Cup, I find it hard to accept anything less. On Thursdays I attend the Theatre Workshop meetings in our clubhouse where I finally get to see a number of people all in one place. The "facilitator" has asked me to "critique" the performances of wannabe actors, and I reluctantly agreed even though I might facilitate the hatred, anger, and fury of the performers after they perform monologues or skits. I felt queasy about how there would be no one to love me there after awhile--but thus far my trepidations have been unwarranted. I've done enough teaching to know how to offer suggestions to a student without giving offense.

.....But yesterday I found something else to do. I discovered that every Tuesday from 2:30-4:00pm at our public library there is a program/class(?) called "Poetry Workshop". So, being curious as to what I would be getting into I decided to attend. I was amazed to see a full conference room of poetry lovers/writers(?). There were about thirty people--mostly women--and three guys plus myself. The teacher was Stacie Kiner--no relation to the former baseball player. She purportedly was a published poet (like me), but when I tried to "Google" her name, I could not find any information about her even though there were listed some few with her name. Perhaps my son, JR, might be helpful and provide some information about her poetry and her qualifications to teach it, and about it. I know that when my full name is googled--Norman Ralph Ross, it leads to something about me.

.....The first poem she read to us was John Donne's "A Valediction Forbidding Mourning" which I have taught a zillion times. It's about Donne telling his wife not to shed tears when he goes his way, I imagine, to become poet laureate of Heaven. She said he was the "best poet" of the 17th Century--forgetting all about Shakespeare. Anyway, the people in the class spent an hour discussing this poem with her input, which, I must say was not very enlightening--possibly because it is a lousy poem--in my opinion, of course. Also, I didn't find the discussion very exhilarating no doubt because when it comes to a discussion of a poem, I'm a very severe critic of the teaching and learning process.

.....When the class time ended Ms. Kiner gave us a rather lengthy poem written by the Pulitzer Prize winning poet, Anne Sexton, called "Angels of the Love Affair." While Donne was a poet of the "metaphysical" school, Sexton is a member of the "confessional" school where the poet writes intimately about his--or her-- life. For example, this poem has six sections--the first being called "Angel of Fire and Genitals." All six sections of the poem contain 14 lines each, which qualifies them as being in sonnet form, but the rhyme schemes are not like any I've ever seen before. And the themes of each one of them wander aimlessly in and out of reality and intelligibility. The standard themes of her poetry are of depression, isolation, suicide, and despair; her work also encompasses issues specific to women, such as menstruation, abortion, masturbation and adultery. It seems that Ms. Sexton spent many years of her life in and out of mental institutions with a bipolar disorder; it is purported that she suffered sexual abuse from her mother, and that she had an affair with her therapist. She eventually committed suicide by carbon monoxide while sitting in her car in an enclosed garage. Strangely enough, I can't wait to hear the class participate in a discussion of this strange, mystifying and mostly unintelligible poem. I doubt very much that any in the class knows anything about Ms. Sexton's life. We shall see.

.....Well, now I have something to do on Tuesdays and Thursdays, each activity somewhat intellectual. Now, I can match RH+ as she plays cards on Mondays and Tuesdays. I'm looking for something to do on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and the weekend. Golf is out. So, then, to summarize: I attend two classes--Theatre Workshop and Poetry Workshop. I'm not too certain as to what the word "work" means. I'll check it out with Webster.

Dim, and Distant Days Vol.II

.....Hi friends: I just read a modernization of Hamlet's soliloquy in Barron's Educational Series book of the play which is called "Shakespeare Made Easy." Well, in my view, they made it much too easy--most likely aimed at idiots. So, I decided that I would write a much better modernization that requires some decent reading comprehension. The original version in Will's Elizabethan English is not necessary. But, as a matter of fact, if he were around, he could take my "modernization" and write one in his own English which would be a good "ancientization" of my version.

"To Be or Not to Be" in Modern English

The question is whether to live or to die?

Which is more honorable?

To live and to suffer the inexorable misfortunes of life?

Or to end them once and for all with a dagger?

But suppose we choose to die; will that finally end

The heartache of life and the ravages of illness

And disease that the flesh is subject to?

That end is the very result that one would hope for.

However--in that sleep of death will one dream?

Well, now--there is the catch! For the kind of dreams that

May come makes one pause to think

Before ending mortality with a dagger.

Just the thought of dreaming about hell fires

Causes acceptance of the calamities

That come with a long life.

For who would be foolish enough

To accept the ravages of time, the wrongs of oppression,

The arrogance of men, the pangs of unrequited love,

The law's delays, the insolence of politics, and the

Humiliation one takes from the unworthy

If one could end all that with a ready dagger?

Who would be foolish enough to bear life's burdens

Except for the fear of something after death

That would be infinitely worse; and so we bear

The many ills of life rather than fly to others

That we know not of--because no one

Has ever returned from the dead to tell us about them.

Thus, the knowledge that we are all sinful

And the guilt of our consciences cause us

To turn fateful actions aside

And for us to sheath our dagger.

.....and to continue with letters from the dim, distant days:

Dear Dr. Ross

My progress through high school was nothing to be proud of. I was really getting nowhere, and I was fearful of never getting a college education. I thought I'd be sweeping floors in a grocery store all my life; that is, until I signed up for your class as a junior. I thought I had entered a different universe. Your presence, your demeanor, your teaching skills were nothing less than magical. I couldn't wait each morning to be mesmerized by your delivery of Burns, and Keats, and Shelley, and especially Shakespeare. When you tore your shirt doing Hamlet's soliloquy in the manner of Stanislavsky's method acting I thought I had gone to heaven. It was totally amazing. Your influence on me has lasted a lifetime; that is, I am now over 60 years old. I graduated college as a history and social studies teacher. I'll never forget you. Thank you. (D.W)