"Lord, what fools these mortals be." (Shakespeare)

.....Well, I better get started with something Ruthie, my English cuzzin wants to know, and that's my favorite poem. And that is Burns' "As Fond Kiss".  I also am tuned in to Robert Burns' "To a Mouse".  Both poems do something to me, and I don't know how to describe it. But that is what poetry is supposed to accomplish; it should do something to you.  If you don't have a book of English poetry, type the poem onto Google-- if you have a computer. 
     Ruthie says if I'm alone I should go out to a bar and talk to my friends. I can't do this either. I don't drive. All my friends are dead or mentally deficient, and the folks in the building we live in are in their 70s as is RH+, and they only talk to her because she's in her 70s as well.  Im 90 and perhaps people think my frontal lobe is damaged--or I somehow intimidate them.
     So right now I have one friend in England and one here--Mike. But we only converse with Mike over a prime rib. Luckily, however, RH+ has a ton of friends--some of them from East Meadow where our kids grew up, and the weird thing is that these women are widows, and they were first good friends of my exe. And here they took to RH+ like the wink of the cat's eye. (I really don't know anything about cats.)

     This morning I thought I had the perfect solution. I would go to Ilana's graduation also even though I vowed never to fly again.  But a person could unvow if absolutely necessary. After all, I won't have to say any Hail Marys.  Then, quicker than a vulture salivating over a lion's dung, it came to me.  How were we supposed to get my scooter into the car when we deplane in NY? (I really don't know too much about lions--only from the show)  There was no way to encar with the scooter.  We would have to bring the waiker and pray. I can't get very far with a walker without pain.

"All men are poets at heart" (Emerson)

.....Well, today is bowling day and I won't see RH+ again until two or three o'clock.  Then at 4pm the techie man is coming to hook up R's new printer to her laptop.  We had a neightbor try it but he couldn't get it to work.  Neither can I. Remebor I'm a poet, not a handiman. But back in the olden dahys, (52-76) I was able to paoint the house--inside ad out.  In addition, I could put up wallpaper.  I think it must be the housw fairy who gave me these skills.  Or perhaps, it's part of the evolution of the human race Darwin was talking abuot.  But now I'm wishing th house fairy will stop my hands from shaking so htat I could type without making these errors that frustrate me.  However, JR gave me permission to make these errors, so that is what I'll do.  Pay no attention to them.

.....So far we have gotter zero, zilch suggestions about RH+ leaving me for a week in order to attend Ilana's graduation from Penn State.  She says I'll need help, and I say maybe not.  After all, I can dress myself, shower myself, paint the building inside and out, put up wallpaper and turn on the TV and computer all by myself.  She needn't worry because if I fall down, I have that gizmo on my wrist.  If I press it, all Hell breads out--the pliss come, the medics come and they all insist on taking me to hospital which is the last or least help that I want.  Are they all crzy--I men R and the neighbors, not the poleess.

.....As for excitement around here, you/ll have to be satisfied that a guy from a faraway blog or website got hold of one of my poems and put it as the introduction to what he was going to write.  What he wrote, I forget, but knowing that a complete stranger saw my poem somewhere on the internet and thought enough of it to have it lead off an article should be escitement enough.  Otherwise it'll have to be a debate as to which Chinese restausrant has the best lobsters, or which intern has the best beside manner.  Then there's the fadt that Le Gron has lert town to serve up baskets for the Clefland Cavaliers.  Which reminds me that I am now a French Cavalier who has saved the gottle of French champagne to open and drind on New Year'ss Eve.  The only other excitement occurs when we have Florida stone crabs for dinner.              

"I to myself am dearer than a friend." (Shakespeare)

.....It's getting boring in retirement now.  Why of course I have this glog to deal with, but I can't deal with it as much as I']D LIke to because there isn't anything to write about.  My readers, as few as they may be are entitled to something a little more interesting than going to doctors or wwatching 22guys tryijb to bread ether's necks on thefootballl field dothjerdd mrfvl Sunday.

                   

     Now all of a sudden this color has come up. Very weird.  I am left alone temporarily because RH+ went out to lunch with her sister and her cousin.  And speaking of "alone", she is planning to go to Ilana's graduation from Penn State.  Ilana feels that it will be better for her job seeking to work towards a CPA rather than a MA.  She is probably right. Oh, and about that "alone" issue--If RH+goes to the graduation, then she will want one of my kids to come down to "take care of me".  My reply was Uh Uh" She just kept going. "Well,then, we'll just hire someone to stay with you for a few hours during the day. It'll make me feel comfortable." I coudn;t let her get away with that on, so I complained, "But having no one here except me will make me feel more comfortable." Anyway this issue had not yet come to a satisfactory conclusion.  Any suggestions?                                    I have to use this color now or the marging os this blog will change.  Why? I don't know.  I'm a [ppoet, not a techie.  So I'll jus carry on with these margins.  I was thinking of two American games where your body is the deciding factor on your becoming a millionaire.  In American football it's a blessing if you are 300 pounds or better because that weight will get you a job that will make you rich.  In basketball you can become wealthy right out of high school it you are ataletic and 7 feet tall--or taller.  One of the NBA teams will grab you at once.  So forget your education, eat a lot and wait to see what happens.

                       
                   
                         

                   

                   

                    

 

                                          

                     

                                      

                   
                    

                       

 

                      

                   

 

"And God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light." (Genesis I)

.....Dear Ruthie, we've gone through linguistics before--in another post. As far as "eggcorns" are concerned...well, they're cute, but will not last long in the science of linguistics. My BA degree lists me as a Bachelor of Science--a BS even though I have had a thorough road to travel through English literature. My major was linguistics, and I d9n/t think even my family knows this. Linguistics is a science and that's why my BA degree is a BS.  If you get my meaning. My MA is really a Master of Arts, meaning I cas do "To be or not to B" by heart. And then, running the full gamut, my last degree describes me as a Doctor of Education...because, I suppose, the degree guys decided that my science of linguistics would be of more help in the classroom as a new way of teaching grammar, for heaven's sake!  I don't teach grammar...I really can't label the curriculum that I taught--but it was more of a PhD than an EdD.  And so, I'm a PhD--like Socrates and Plato. But

 

.....Students who major in linguistics acquire valuable intellectual skills, such as analytical reasoning, critical thinking, argumentation, and clarity of expression. Linguistics is a major that gives you insight into one of the most intriguing aspects of human knowledge and behavior. Majoring in linguistics means that you will learn about many aspects of human language, including sounds (phonetics, phonology), words (morphology), sentences (syntax), and meaning (semantics).  Language, you know, is not how it's written, but how it's spoken.

 

......Getting away from the esoteric stuff, I'm sure you all (4 or 5 readers) know that President Obama has added to his legacy, the easing of our relationship with Cuba.  By the same token, the GOOP Congress has added to their legacy of criticism of everything the President attemps to due.  It's naturally what you might expect from a Plutocratic political party. What I did notice was te anger of Cubans who escaped from Batista and Fidel by landing here, sand the joyous reaction of the Cubans in Cuba.  I suppose they were cheering the bit of freedom that Obama's plan has given them. As for me, I was joyous because the Marlins were assured of a star pitcher and second baseman.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Poets have a license to lie" (PLINY)

.....The clening ladies are coming today, so we have to get out of here soon as we give them their one-weeks salary for XMAS.  I have a severe pain in my back, so I plan to use the scooter rather than the walker. I have no idea as to when or how I got this pain, so the best guess is age. RH+ said she would rub my back with Ben Gay.  So far it hasn't happened.

.....It's 12pm at the moment, and we will leave when the cleanin ladies arrive. RH+ will have lunch and I'll be having my breadfast. We are playing cards tonite at 7:30 so we have to figure out a quick dinner. We have shocen Subway on occasion, but I'm not in the mood for that. Pizza also was our dinner.  We do not go to Wendy;s, nor Burger King, nor MdColands. So, it's a problem that is typical of retirement.

.....RH+ came to me recently and said I have lots of errors in m;y post. So I ad to egsplain to her my dilemma; either take the time to erace errors or leave it to the reader to understand the errors.  I'f vecided to leave it to the reader--and porbably will get lots of comments from a dearth of readers.  Or is it a "paucity" of readers? 

.....RH+ has been very much occupied with her yearly "duties". She always sends Hannacuh cards to everyone, including I suppose, the homeless guy who sgands and begs at the Turnpike exit.  Of course she slips some money in the envelopes that go out to grandchildren. If we get any more, we will have to declare bankruptsy.  RH+ doesn't forget anyone.  Uh Oh--I'm being called.  Maybe I'm going to get Ben Gayed!!

"In every age the vilest specimens of human nature are to be found among demagogues." (Macaulay)

 

 

.....Living here with RH+ has taught me that Ashley Montagu was right when he wrote that women are the superior sex.  They are much more than Darwin could have imagined when he wrote "Origin of Species".  Somehow wimen are much more advanced on the human species scale than are men, the scabs of the universe.  Women do much more than men can dream of.  Women can make the beds; they do the laundry; they pic things off the floor; they do the cooking while men are taking naps; they can open the tops of soda cans; they bandage wounds; they are caretakers; they fake care of Boy while Tarzan swings through trees like a minkey; they drive cars slowly so as to avoid creshas; and the miracle of all--they carry bab9es 9jside their bodies (which men are unable to do as yet.).  Women do all of these things, and much more, while men, still in the 21st Century, are fiting wars and lopping off heads.  Some day in the future of the planet and its well being women will govern everywhere.  As I have said, since I have been living with a woman, much higher than I on the scale of humanity--RH+, I must agree with Montagu and Darwin--for there is proof positive that there is no point in arguing with a woman.

 

.....If I haven't yet revealed it, I have won my suit agains four dependants here who were guilty of taking the copyrighted manuscript of a musical that I wrote (and violated it and trashing it!). They took out songs I had in there and substituted songs that they liked better.  They did not know that this was the wrong thing to do to a script that is copyrighted.  That's why they lost the suit.  My attorney and I agreed that each of them had to pay me $1500. Their attorney's chech with this money lies dormant in my; attorney's office because he broke his leg and he is in th hospital. He also fired his assistant and there is no one in the office to bring him the check to endorse.  So I have to wait.  The money, to me, is of least importance. I'm enjoying the fact they had to pay.

As for me, all I know is that I know nothing (Socrates)

.....I know there is a post with the title, "All the world's a stage." Amd the date os ;oseted as Dec. 12--which is todahy!  I don't know how that error came to be, and I don't know how to fix it.  The date should be "Ded 1, 2014.  OK, now that that's done, I can go on and inform you about Barbara and Joel's visit.  The last time they came here, Adam, their son was about 5 year's old.  Now he is 30 something;; you figure it out. Any, it was a joy having them here.  Well, tLhey weren't exactly here,  since they slept in a hotel.  However, we fed them well.  We took them to Longhorn's for a steak dinner.  There is no Longhorn's in Herndon, VA.  On their second day, we went to Jupitor (not the Planet--or whet used to be a planet). We bought them tickets to join us seeing "Fiddler on the Roof".  But, before the show we had brunch at "First Watch", a restaurant which also cannot be found in Herndon.

 

.....Of course, we all knew that I played Tevye in that shou several years ago.  We also had tickets to see Avi Hoffman in our sterling theater that evening.  The "kids" went back to their hotel to gather their stuff and change hotels. They ate at their own leisure in a restaurant in down and then met RG+ and me at our state-of-the-art theatre to see Avi.  Since we saw two shows on the same day, we were exhausted.  When the show was over, the kids went back to their hotel and we went home to our love nest.  On Sunday we went to my sister's condo in Cemeter;y; Villiage to see her and Uncle Mickey. Both of them have lost a little mentally.  Shortly after this cultural adventure, the kids went back to Herndon--and for us? Life went on.

 

.....I've been so busy doing this and that, I have neglected to go on with my sci-fi nowel.  We had to go to Best Buy (for example) to buy RH+ a new printer for her lap top.  Then we had a scheduled card game which we play every Wednesday with fourth floor neighbors.  The game is Canasta. Lou is my partner and Annette is RH+'s partner.  Low and I always lose.  Fortunately we change partners every year, and so our losing ways will have to end.  Maybe.  Our plan for New Year's Eve is to open the bottle of chanmagne I was given by the French Consulate at the ceremony where I received the French Legion of Honor Medal.  It's French--not the medal, but the bubbly.  2015 is on its way--and I'll be 91!!

 

....

"All the world's a stage....(As You Like It..WS)

.....Not after retiring in 1982 I bought a condo in Florida. I bought it because it was the only clubhouse that, not only had a weight room, but also a 640 seat thetre with state of the art equipment for performances. It also had an indoor swimming pool in which I swam 80 laps every day; it was a mile--I measured it.  I lifted weights in the weight room. I was the only one there since it was a new community of yet to be built condos. I could not do my five mile a day runs nor enter an;y 10 Ks because it was to howt. Yet it was the perfect place for me. 

.....All these events may not be in size places, but they were all part of my life which I have said no one else has experienced. So take it easy on me.  Soon after I came back from my areound-the-world trip I came home and went back to work. It was great to get home, and after a year's junket I realized that America was the place to be, and I was very lucky to have been born there.  The car I bought (with the help of my son, JR) was a nefty Ford Muxtank in which I gave the divorcees I dated, a great time!

(Take my word for it).  Most of these women were starving for a hug, a kiss, and other love devices which I made up as we went along back to their house.  But needing time to write my PhD thesis, I took another year's sabbatical. I was the only one to take iven one sabbatical, let alone two. And no one ever will because the Board dropped it.

 

.....It was New Year's Eve, 1938, when I went to a B'Nai Brith (?)party at a member's home. There I met a young lady (39!) who was wearing a brown corduroy suit and a smile that lit up the room. Should the lights happen to go out because of a storm, the smile could be switched on. I believe it was 500 watts.  At any rate we just happened to spend the evening together with drinks in our hands and our heads.  We ought to not have done it, but we went back to my apartment.  We lived in the same development.  The idea was to watch the baal go down on the TV--which we did, and which afterwards, since there appeared nothing to do, we did stuff as we went along.  Well, try to remember that it was New Year's Eve, and we tried very hard to stick to our mores.  It was such a nice evening, night, and morning that we were married in 1983 and we have had many more of nice evenings--31 to be eggsact.

.....I will continue these thrillint events shortly.  Try to stay awake.

"We are past our dancing days" (Romeo & Juliet")

......Well, I don't have much to do today but continue to look for my WWII Log Book of missions I was on. It is a real treasure, and I am very unhappy about not being ablae to find if.  It can't just run awaw by itself. Joel claims that he doesn't have it, and I don't have any reason not to disbelieve hij. ( I can't waste time correcting my typing igures). I think I'll leave this blog momentarily to look somemore for this valuable pieace of history, and it must be found.

 

.....Can't find it.  OK. My suit against the four people who literly stole my script of the musical I wrote for our annual in-house show has been settled and I'm supposed to get about $1500 from each of them.  This was not merely revenge but mostly a matter of justice. And justice won.  Doesn't happen very often, Now that itp over, I can seetle down at the PC and order my annual holiday froit givts fro a few of my friends.  That includes Hal Mack, Debby Benson French, Phkl Bdrgovoy, and, of course, Ruthie

grimsley. Mike H. is also my friend but he can get his own fruit at Puboix. After getting our of the hospital because of the last fall I had, RH+ insisted that I get one of those "a;ert" buttons that you cccan wea around you wrist.  Thus if you fall and can't get up, you just push th button on your wrist and the medical guys come. Pretty neat. huh?

.....When JR and Barbara come heeeer in December we are all goin to the old Bert Reynolds theater to see Fiddler on te Roof I'm anxious to tee the guy who plays Tevye. May I can see wehre I could have don betterl. We usually stop at First Watch for Breaskfast or lunch.  RH+ and I lovd that place. Then we go to the theater.  It jusuially taaaaaaaaaaakes bout 45 minutes to get to Jupiter and after we get out of First Watch it's another 5-10 minutes to get to the theater. We ha eats in  ghd irst row but we don'tknow where they will put the kids aaaaaaaaaafter we pick up the tikcits at "will call".

.....Somewhere in betwine all these events, I managed to ge a Phd from colubia, tauaght in highschool and college for thirty years, coached soccer and track teams. And you want to know ifI dated after my divorc.  of course I did! (I'll let you know about that next time.)

"...one man in his time plays many parts" (AYLI-Jaques)

.....Getting to be 90 years old is quite an accomplishment, I believe, what with diseases around and all the bumps and hills in one's life. I've been doing a lot of introspection these days and I've come to the conviction that I have led a very awesome life. I'm not so sure that anyone around can quite equal it. Life for me began when I lived one block from the Atlantic ocean and learned to swim like a fish. That early life lasted nine years and now when I think about it, it's like a dream.

 

.....Life really began when we moved to Kelly Street in the south Bronx after my father died. Living there I learned survival skills starting with all the roaches in the apartment which disgusted me. I hated it, as I did living with my mother's parents. Living in the area required joining a gang, and so I did--to the Apaches.  We were all Jewish on the block, and right across the back of the house could be seen the Black area.

Of course there were Italian gangs around as well.  The main school occupation was not to be caught after school by a rival gang who would hang your pants to the top of the nearest lamp post. I decided that I would shoot myself if a girl would see me in my underwear. I hung around the poolroom until I was 17 and I decided to escape the Bronx by joining the Navy to fight for my country in WWII.  This was 100 times worse than the Bronx as I discovered by flying 60 combat missions--and survived once more.

 

.....Thus far my life was not much different from others.  It was only when I returned from the war that life began to change.  I spent six months in a VA Hospital with "Battle Fatigue" which is now PTSD.  I like Battle Fatigue much better...more descriptive. About this time it was a social worker who changed my life.  She was able to get me into Columbia University.  I had only commercial courses in high school--typing and stenography, etc. So after I took the entrance exam to Columbia I got a letter stating that my score was the worst ever in the whole world and that it was obvious that I could not do college work. I was told I could matriculate for a degree but must keep my average above a C.  I graduated Magna Cum Laude and went on to get a PhD. So much for not being able to do college level work...This experience helped me to become a better teacher and not to make predictions about what a student could do...So now I wonder how many others could live by the ocean, survive the Bronx and WWII and come home to get a PhD from a school like Columbia?   (to be continued)

"The cautious seldom err" (Confucius)

.....I am totally and unequivocally bored. Oh, I know I have this blob to worry about,  I also wrote that my fingers often do not go where I want them to. Youll notice that I made a cistake or two already. I've decided not to make any corrections becajse it takes too long.  Please excurse me, it's one of the paons of aging, I guels.  But ;perhaps it will be fun for me to read. it's much better than hitting the backspace key each time I make a misteak.  Enjoy it!

 

.....''another projedt I have to go baci to is the sci-fe book I started to write.  Problem is that I' can't make anh errors.  Publisher requires a perefect download--or uplade. I still do not know what they jean.  So, there is the conumdrum. I therefore I'm being rather slow getting back to it. Anyway, its not flr yout to read anyway.  And I'm not so good at writing sci-fi.  I think its good, who else?  A couple of months ago a guy from Comcast camd to fis some provlem we were having with our TV, and when he lefe he said that we also have Wi-Fi. I don't know how Wi-Fi will do us any good excdpt in McDonald's or Burger King.

 

.....I'm douvle spacing know, and think my typing is getteg worse. I don't know how this post will look when U puvvvvlish it. When I read it, I espect that it will exults or disgust me. I'f fearful of the comments that I will get. I may even be demoted from Baron to Duke. .....I believe that the time has come for RH" and I to geeeet our things in order, so we started to have a trust for us to deposit all that is of value. What we had to pay the lawher was certainlj of valus, and we weder short a couple of thousands of assets. Besides the asseets we had in the trust, the one big asset we haave is the house which s9eday tye iidx will sell and make a few bucis.

We are such stuff as dreams are made on, and our little life is rounded with a sleep. (THE TEMPEST)

.....Well, there has been quite a lot going on here.  I fell from a chair.  I should say that I slipped from a chair trying to get on to it.  Of course an hour later, RH+ returned from bowling and found me on the floor! During the hour I was there, I started recitation with Beowulf, then Chaucer, and up to Shakespeare, and then beyond to Burns, Wordsworth, Byron, Milton, and a few others that I could recall. While on the floor then, what fun!

.....Of course she called 911 and the medics took me to the hospital a few minutes after they arrived.  I was given a bed in the ER (Emergency room) and they tested my blood pressure, my temperature, (for Ebola?), and a few other things. Then a guy came around and he gave me an x-ray because there was pain in my back. When five o'clock came around I ordered prime ribs with French fries and corn on the cob. They refused to honor my request and I was sorely disappointed when all I got was a hamburger--a cold one.  Oh, and I almost forgot the apple juice and the piesces de resistance for desert--a chocolate cookie. ( I believe) I spelled "piesces" incorrectly, but I haven't the urge to correct it at the moment. It’s French.

.....Ellin sent a comment urging me to get a device which I could wear upon my neck or around my wrist. I appreciate her concern, but I already have such a device. The other day the physical therapist's visit was cancelled because I didn't need it.  Today the speech therapist came and she said that I didn't need it.  So, all the doctors I've been to said I didn't need it--whatever it was! Thus because I don't need anything, I've decided to carry on for a few more years.

.....I'm having a helluva time typing. My hands tremble to much that I keep hitting the wrong keys. I'm sorry if I don't write many posts to this blog. I used to, but no more.

Living the Good Life

.....Wow! I find it hard to believe that the last post I had was September 15!  By the time I got here I forgot how to get this started. Well, you see, I finally figured it out. I would have done this in an email but it would have been too long. But now I have a few things to say. So I'll start saying them.  First of all, I just got out of the rehab facility: Manicare it's named and it is only about a mile from our house.  I slipped and fell getting on a chair.  It was on a Monday when RH+ bowls, and she would flay someone with a red rag if they tried to stop her!  From that pastime she usually gets home about 3pm. Since I fell at 2pm, I had to lie on the floor for an hour. A phone was not possible to get to.  Surely when she arrives and sees me on the floor she'll think I was dead.

 

.....Of course she called 911 and the medics took me to the hospital a few minutes after they arrived.  I was given a bed in the ER (Emergency room) and they tested my blood pressure, my temperature, (for Ebola?), and a few other things. Then a guy came around and he gave me an x-ray because there was pain in my back. When five o'clock came around I ordered prime ribs with French fries and corn on the cob. They refused to honor my request and I was sorely disappointed when all I got was a hamburger--a cold one.  Oh, and I almost forgot the apple juice and the piesces de resistance for desert--a chocolate cookie. ( I believe) I spelled "piesces" incorrectly, but I haven't they urge to correct it at the moment  It's French.

.....

"What fools these mortals be" (MNDream)

 

.....Well RH+ just went bowling. She's in a league and this is the first day of the new season--sort of a rollaball NFL. Nothing interferes with her bowling. So what should I do while I'm here alone in the house where it's quiet enough for me to think of I want to write in this blog which I've had to abandon for a while.  As for myself, I no longer drive, nor play golf, nor run marathons, nor swim a mile a day. I gave Rho the keys to my car, voluntarily. I would never get in a car that someone 90 years or older was driving. If I drove, then, it would be hypocritical, wouldn't it?

 

.....If you haven't heard already, about three weeks ago I felt really sick, woke up about 3am, was very cold and had a problem breathing. Rhoda call 911, the medics came and whisked me off to the hospital which in the UK they leave off the "the" before hospital which isn't a very big deal. You can't even say that it's poor English because they live in England where they speak proper on occasion. After umpteen tests there, it was determined that I had pneumonia, and it sure felt like it! Anyway, I was only there for three days. I do not allow pneumonia to occupy my body for more than that.  After 10 days, or so, on anti-biotics, I now feel perfectly fine.

 

.....The next adventure is quiet funny. The other night while I was sitting on the bed ready to sleep about 11:30 pm. and attempting to put  my glasses on the night desk next to the bed, it rolled back on its wheels and I found myself sitting on the floor--which for me is a disaster. RH+ tried to pick me up (ha! ha!). She failed miserably. I failed to pick myself up. Consequently, we dialed 911, the medics came and lifted me back onto the bed. I didn't hurt at all, except for the embarrassment involved.  I remember the days when I was able to get up immediately should I fall.  Now, it's not possible.

 

.....Next adventure involves litigation. I wrote  great musical, but it was literally stolen by four people who violated the copyright which I always put on the second page of my books.  I warned them that if they changed anything in my script, they were to get my approval which they conveniently forgot.  Needless to say that the changes they made would not entertain a ninth grade class. I was furious and seriously disappointed not to see my work get to fruition on the stage. I do not take such things without doing something about it. I learned this in WWII. When a Messerschmitt shot at me, I shot back. I did not just put my thumbs up at the Nazi to say, "Nice shot".  Thus I am taking this group to court for violating a US Government document which makes my manuscript--mine.

Have no friends not equal to yourself. (Confucius)

.....It was on August 6, 1945 that the United States dropped an atomic bomb called "Little Boy" on Hiroshima, Japan. It was carried on a B29, called Enola Gay, flown by Paul Tibbets.  This attack killed an estimated 80,000 people. By the end of the year, injury and radiation brought total casualties to 90,000–140,000. Approximately 69% of the city's buildings were completely destroyed, and another 7% severely damaged.  The bomb, of course, was dropped without concern about the civilian population, including women and children.  This was war, of course.  And we didn't start it.

 

......Now was there concern for these civilians?  Of course there was.  But did our President care about that?  No, he was protecting our country.  Is there concern about Israel bombing Gaza and killing, they say, about 1900 people, and also suffering a loss of many IDF soldiers?  Is Hamas sending rockets over Israel? Should "Bibi" care about bombing Gaza and killing civilians? No. It's a war. And that's why it is said war is hell.  And Israel didn't start it.

.....When WWII started and when I enlisted in 1943, I vowed that whatever I did, I did with a goal of excellence, whether it involved cleaning 50 caliber machine guns or a pot in the kitchen. When I went to college I vowed to go as far as I could and whatever I did I tried to excel.  When I taught high school and college, I told my students to work with ruthless personal standards of excellence.  And they tried. 

.....And now my good friends--if any are out there besides my "regulars" who comment with feedback about what I write, I can no longer write the way I once did. In fact, my writing sucks.  First, I cannot remember all the fine expressive English vocabulary, and secondly, I have a tremor in my fingers which holds me back from doing anything that excels.  If I can't excel with what I write, I no longer wish to write.  Just for the record, I've written almost 600 posts which have engendered almost 2000 comments. I know when the game is over.

 

.....

 

 

 

 

.....Perhaps you haven't seen this, but it says what I'd like to say...

 

Okay. Don’t Cry for Us Israelis
By Naomi Ragen

 

I’m sitting here in Jerusalem after a week of heartbreak over three murdered teens, followed by  two weeks of sirens, bomb blasts, and finally, the funerals of young IDF soldiers, of whom one-third are students who should be taking their final exams, instead of risking their lives.  I’m  reading on the internet
about what a horrible person I am as an Israeli and as a Jew, and what a terrible, immoral country I live in.

 

All this criticism comes mainly from the European press: The Guardian, the BBC, papers in Italy, Norway, France, and don’t forget America: The New York Times, CNN.  And I’m thinking: Gee, the British should understand.  After all, they lived through the blitz, Nazis raining bombs indiscriminately down on them, the
way Hamas is raining bombs down on us.  And when the brave pilots of the RAF aimed their bombs at Dresden killing 300,000 men, women and children, they didn’t throw down leaflets telling people to politely evacuate; didn’t send their soldiers to knock on doors to see if they’d followed the leaflets instructions ( as CNN complained Israel failed to do at an UNRWA school, which was probably hit by a Hamas bomb anyway.)

 

And I think of the rest of Europe, who rounded up our  grandparents and great-grandparents, and relatives –men, women and children—and sent them off to be gassed, no questions asked.  And I think:  They are now the moral arbiters of
the free world?  They are telling the descendants of the people they murdered how to behave when other anti-Semites want to kill them?

 

As for Americans, represented by the New York Times, that bastion of high-minded hypocrisy and mediocre journalism parading as the “newspaper of record,” one has only to read the article by Professor Auerbach in the New York Observer (Two
Weeks of Shallow, Facile Moral Equivalency From the New York Times) to see how Jodi Rudoren and other Times apparatchiks have learned to close their minds and love Hamas.  After all, there are CHILDREN DYING.  It doesn’t matter that the Palestinians have educated an entire generation to be little Nazi-wannabes, who worship death and hate Jews, murdering their  souls, and are now callously putting their bodies in harm’s way to use for touching photo ops.  We shouldn’t be shocked by this omission by the Times. After all,  The New York Times was one of the last news outlets to bring to the attention of the reading public the Nazi atrocities in Europe.  Read the Times during the nightmare years, and see if you can’t find a pattern here.

 

And so, as an Israeli, brought up with Jewish values, and an American, taught to love freedom, justice, democracy and fair play, I have to tell all of you- Europeans, Americans, and last of all Muslim terrorist sympathizers and barbarians,  that what you are saying no longer moves anyone of good moral judgment and intelligence. The current crisis in Gaza is so morally clear-cut,
so absolutely a case of self-defense, that I must say to you, as someone finally said to Senator McCarthy: “Sir, have you no shame?”

 

I prefer that you - writers of these lies and libels-- hate me and my country, if it means that you can save your tears for other peoples dead. We aren’t greedy for sympathy.  After all, we got so much after the Holocaust, we prefer other people to have their share now. These days, we prefer to live, rather than have people cry over us and the injustices done to us.

 

So by all means, cry for the Palestinian people - men women and children- whose duly elected leadership has callously left them without protection from just retribution for their terrorist crimes. Who took their aid money and are living in Qatar in five star hotels building shopping centers for themselves. Who built
terrorist tunnels under their homes, mosques, hospitals and schools, and recruited their sons to die for Allah, while they sit in bunkers waiting for the U.N. to rescue them.

 

Don’t cry for us, or our families, or our children, or grandchildren. Not  this time. Not ever.  Not  if we can help it. Because this time, thank God, we have a country.  We are armed.  This time, with God's help,  we know how to protect ourselves from Nazis and their high-minded media cheerleaders.

 

I would like to end this with an expletive and a hand gesture towards the people I’m addressing.  Please choose one you think would be fitting.  I can think of many.

Some unthoughtful thoughts; so sue me. Obama will keep me company.

    If any person, idiot, media, or country needs an excuse to exercise their need for anti-Semitism, they will seize upon it like a dog seizes a bone.  That involves all Europeans, many Englishmen, Fox News, New York Times, U.N, Turkey, Bolivia, and make no mistake, it goes on and on and everywhere.  There are now 1.6 billion Muslims in the world, and by 2030 there will be more than 2 billion, and about 250 million of them are Islamic radicals who are like an ebola visited upon the human race. 

     While thousands of Syrian civilians were dying in the war there, and now in Libya, Iraq and 298 civilians on the Malaysian plane shot down by Russian militants in Ukraine, where is the hue and cry and the ringing of hands to the extent Israel is being subjected to?  Where was the world's recognition of rockets inundating Israel? The answer is--nowhere.  What country would endure such an attack on their civilian population such as Israel was being subjected to by Hamas? The answer is--no country.  But for a Jewish state, what is so terrible? The answer is--why not?

     Now, when Israel was being attacked by rockets (no matter if it led to civilian deaths), and when Israel discovered tunnels into their country dug like gophers by Hamas for the sole purpose of invasion to kill Jews or to capture them, Israel went to war, and civilians do die in a war.  Ask England when the Nazi's V1s and V2s were launched at English civilians. Hamas knew this, and their hatred of Israel was such that they didn't give a damn if their people were dying. So much for pitying them. It's a war; get out of the f..g way! (Just a thought)

 

      Well, here is another thought; in all the newspapers and magazines that I buy, such as the Florida Sun-Sentinel, Time, and Sports Illustrated, I get very little news and unfinished articles.  So, why are they sending me pleas to renew my subscriptions? At the end of each news report and magazine story is the advice to go to the remainder by means of a link they kindly supply if you care to read the more of what they have written!  Too bad if you don't have a computer, or an iPod, or a PeaPod. (Just another thought)

 

     And then there's the Geek you call to come and fix the printer so that it prints whatever you have on the computer monitor.  RH+ had the same problem.  He fixed them all right--but not before he took RH+ to Office Depot to buy a "yellow cartridge"; what had that to do with fixing the computer, I don't know.  But then, for ten bucks he also bought a "flash drive" to back up my stuff.  He backed it up alright, but when I asked him to show me how to do it, he said, "Oh, that's the first lesson that I teach.  Sign up for my class."  So after an hour he gets for $55--but he stretches it out for more. I've been a victim of a dastard who ought to be blasted into Cyberspace! (Just a thought).

 

 

 

 

 

 

    

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The World is too much with us....(Wordsworth)

Sorry; I'm not up to it at the moment. Too much going on in this world, so cannot concentrate efficiently to write anything. Will be back though.  Baron

"The quickest way of ending a war is to lose it." (Orwell)

.....I understand it; I really do. When Hamas was raining down rockets over Israel, I didn't hear or read a peep from any other country, including our own.  After all, it was only Jews who occupied Israel, and what harm did some rockets do over several months? And, I ask, what other country would stand for such attacks without starting to fight back with whatever power or military might available to them?  No other country is the answer. 

.....Now, I recall Colin Powell's advice about warfare; make certain that if you fight, you fight with overwhelming military power!  Now, Hamas and their sympathizers around the world are berating Israel for using their power to stop the rocket launching terrorist organization. The United States lists Hamas as a terrorist organization.  Now, the complaint is that at least 1000 Palestinians have been killed in this fighting.  Did Hamas and the Palestinians think that Israel was going to bomb them with shishkabab and humus? This fighting is a war--not a skirmish. 

.....So, knowing that there would be many civilian losses, why did Hamas not make any effort to move the civilian population from the war zone knowing that their lives were in danger?  Why did Hamas build tunnels that opened on Israeli soil?  And then complain about their destruction without halting the rocket launching?  If Florida was being attacked (by a hurricane, of course) would the people with homes on the east coast remain there--or go to a hotel in Naples? I understand it; I really do.

.....The Russians have annexed the Crimea, and all the world has done is to wring their hands (...a mixed metaphor?).  So, why can't Israel kick Hamas out of Gaza and annex the damned place? What can they do? Start an inter-farter? Bring it on!

 

.....Well, I certainly do not want to continue pontificating on my personal soap box, so the best thing to do when I realize it, is to change the subject.  I have no power to affect worldly issues, and so I might as well get used to it. But I reserve the right to sulk and to brood when the mood washes over me.  At times like these, I recall Wordsworth's lines, "...I'd rather be a pagan, suckled in a creed outworn; so might I, standing by this pleasant lea, have sight of Proteus rising from the sea; or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn."   (...these lines fully symbolic, of course. Figure it out; I don't have the time nor the inclination to do it for you.) OK. Now I feel better. So, now to the mundane things--what else can you do when you're 90 and 5 months?  What's for dinner? What's on TV? Do I have clean underwear? Why do I see even more pills in the container? Shall I write a post for my blog today? Do I have one more book in me? Will I be around for the summer Olympics? Do I need to go to the bathroom? Have a nice day.

 

 

"Fled is that music; do I wake or sleep?" (Keats)

 .....The hospital I went to claims to have been voted one of the top fifty in the country.  Perhaps the employees were told that it was one of their assigned duties to do the voting--as many times as possible--or else report to the unemployment office...

As far as I was concerned, it ought to have been voted one of the bottom fifty in the country.  While I was there suffering from who knows what, I received no care whatsoever.  The flyer on the wall in my room claims that the patient was to receive care for any of the "special" needs the patient required.  Perhaps the need to use the facility is not deemed to be of any special importance, because when I rung up the nurses' station and told them I needed some help in getting there, I had to wait 45 minutes and still no one came.  When I rung them up again, I conceded that they were busy and I offered to get off the bed and crawl to the bathroom on my hands and knees, and then crawl back to my bedside and stay on the floor until someone decided to come with the assistance I required--an elbow to hold on to.

.....Another "special need" I have is the need to sleep in the dark, and so to keep the bright light in the hall from flooding my room I asked that the door be closed behind anyone leaving after having to enter the room to tend to the guy in the next bed.  And this guy snored all night, leaving the TV on.  Did anyone think to turn it off?  Apparently the night watch people did not have thinking as one of their skills.

 

.....And then there is the "special need" I have for sleeping from 11pm to 7am.  I take a sleeping pill before nodding off. But then during those hours, a nurse comes in, wakes you up in order to take your "vitals".  Then you try to fall back to sleep, but 10 minutes later, you are wakened again so that they can "take some blood".  I began to believe they were vampires.  Then you try to fall back to sleep, but 10 minutes later, you are wakened by a nurse who insists it was time to take medication--pills--.  What is the need for that at 4am?  But, of course, when any of these so-called caregivers leave the room, they leave the door open and the hall light floods my area once, or twice, or three or four times again.  I asked the nurse why I needed the sleeping pill when I actually could have used some opium--like Omar K. in his "Ruby Yacht".

 

OK. I could go on and on about the "care" I got, but decided instead to offer you my sulking poem:

What hostile wind in time's spinning vortex
Blew pain into my life?  What sullen lark
Gave up its joyful song?  What Cain slew
My way in wavering mist and seeling dark?
And all my love, like wine or blood, has drained,
And heart-red hues to ashen white have turned.
The tender seeds so lovingly engrained
Wither in my earth, dust-seared and burned.
Where have they fled, the sparkling springtime years,
The buds of May and summer's damasked roses?
What god's ambrosia mingles with my tears
As sun-vined August droops, and night encloses?

Poems and Poetry--and the difference.

.....Cuz Ruthie may put to music anything that pleases her; she took me to task for my remarks about her current occupation; that is, putting to music the poetry of some poet I'm not particularly fond of.  It is my problem, not hers. Oh, he writes poems, but in my view they do not elevate the spirit or evoke deep emotions, maybe the music will help it along.  Yes, in my previous post I began to define the difference between "poems" and "poetry".  The first requirement of poetry, I feel, is word choice.  It is very important to find the right word of all those that are available and then to put it in the right place.  Not easy to do. Faustus upon first seeing the most beautiful girl in the world called Helen of Troy, says, "Is this the face that launched 1000 ships and burnt the topless towers of Ilium?" Christopher Marlowe doesn't write "Is this the girl" or "Is this the woman..." He uses the word, "face" because it emphasizes her beauty and because of her, the Trojan War began. Ilium is the word he selects because the name carries with it the destruction of Troy. And Marlowe in two lines of poetry elsewhere captures the world and the soul when he writes, "Where both deliberate, the love is slight, Whoever loved that loved not at first sight." It's an emotional and a powerful statement, not a question. It gets one to thinking, and that is poetry, and poetry makes you think. And a poem makes you say, "Oh, isn't that cute!" I'm not finished so stay tuned.

 

*******************************************************************************************

JULY 14, 2014

 

.....Tomorrow we have to get up too early for me in order to catch the bus here to go on a City of Hope tour to Naples. I'm not too fond of this trip because all you get to see are the Everglades, and occasionally a bird.  Then when we arrive, I suppose this bus, filled with about 60 people and an old man, will stop for lunch, but I don't know where.  I hope it's not Wendy's, Burger King, nor McDonalds.  There's nothing to eat there. After lunch, we'll be taken to a Mall where we can shop.  Whooopy!  Once we experience that exciting event, we'll all go the see, "Joseph and His Coat or Something", and then on to the hotel where we will stay overnight.  The following day we'll be riding home and stopping at the Hard Rock Casino where Rh+ and I can visit our money.  We are taking this tour just to get out of the house. As for me--there's little else to do now besides working on this blog--which I've been doing for 7 years.  Since I've turned 90, I've given up driving and Rh+ has to take me wherever I have to go--which usually is to see some doctor.  I have a cardiologist, a dermatologist, a neurologist, an internist, a urologist--and this doesn't count the doctors I see at the VA.  Oh, well, I guess they are keeping me alive.

 

.....Those of you who are not interested needn't continue because I want to add to my definition of poetry.  So far I've written that poetry requires the right word in the right place.  Secondly "poetry" makes you THINK; "poems" do not.  For a poem to become poetry it must also create some kind of emotion--excitation, passion, and even, at times, despair. Witness Byron's "She Walks in Beauty, and "Dylan Thomas, "Do not go gentle into that good night."  When the reader shares the poet's emotion, that's poetry. There is more, but so far these are enough challenges for the poet to create poetry and define it. Now you can make me immortal, Ruthie!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 



 



"Death, a necessary end, will come when it will come." (Julius Caesar)

.....Well, the World Cup games have been interesting and weird. Whoever heard of a team like Brazil losing 7-1? Who would believe that Spain, England, and Italy would not make it out of the group stage? How could the number one team, Spain, lose to Chile of all countries? I thought Chile was a Mexican appetizer.  Well, let me say that I filled out a bracket before the games and I picked all the winners, with the exception of Spain.  I picked Germany and Argentina to be in the final, and I picked Argentina to win the World Cup.  I hate Germany as much as Brazilians detest Argentina.  Argentina claims that Maradona was better than Pele. I don't agree. I just love the lyric, "Don't cry for me Argentina...".  (I have no idea why Ruthie Grimsley, my adopted cuzzin, is setting the poems of William Barnes to music. What then? Has the Apocalypse come?)

 

.....As long as we have just brought Ruthie into this monologue, she claims in a comment on the previous post, that no one has ever succeeded at defining poetry. I never sat down with the purpose of writing a definition of poetry, but I know it when I read it and hear it. There is a difference between a poem and poetry. Hallmark cards are loaded with poems--but are devoid of poetry. "...the moving finger writes, and having writ, moves on. Nor all your piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line; nor all your tears wash out a word of it." is poetry. But "...poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree" is not.  If Omar had written the words, "bring it back" instead of "lure it back", the whole phrase is damaged.  If he had (perish the thought) written the word "erasers" instead of "tears", his poetry becomes a bad poem. If he had used the word "hand" instead of "finger" you could send it to the dumpster!  From what I have written here, one can begin to define poetry. 
...And, someone, tell Ruthie that I can succeed in defining poetry, and if no one else has, then I'm the first!  But then, again, who cares?

 

.....I can say for certain that aging is not conducive to writing poetry, except perhaps, the poem "Death be not Proud" (John Donne) or "Do not go gentle into that good night." (Dylan Thomas). But when Woody Allen says, "It's not that I'm afraid to die, I just don't want to be there when it happens," I can't say for certain that what he says is "poetry"! Perhaps Ruth Grimsley can give us her opinion. Who else, but Woody, can come up with an expression like that?

 

 

"Foul deeds will rise, tho all the earth oerwhelm them to men's eyes" (Shakespeare)

Friends, Acquaintances, Readers, Commentators, & Cuzzins: Just to demonstrate how even handed I am, that I not only publish long lists of Kudo-ers who come here with their encomiums of me, I also publish (on occasion) something, perhaps, that Mike Herbstman might have written.  But no, the following letter (from 1982) was dusted off by daughter number 2, Bonny Sue:

 

…..Dear Friend…..As you have undoubtedly heard, our beloved (?) colleague, Dr. Norman Ross has announced his retirement as of June.  In order to make sure that he doesn’t try to back out at the last moment, we are having a “Norman Ross Retirement Dinner” at our house on Saturday, May 1.  Since you are among the very small group of people who could possibly be expected to be willing to tolerate him for an entire evening in a relatively confined space, we are inviting you.  Actually we are BEGGING you to come because, otherwise, we’ll be stuck with him alone for the entire evening.   If you have any compassion for us fellow sufferers, you’ll come!  This wretched affair is scheduled for 7:30 P.M. and will consist of a full Chinese Water Torture…er, Chinese Dinner and mercifully, plenty to drink.  RSVP by April 24 since, if attendance will be too sparse, we’ll be forced to leave town.  By the way, if you don’t show up, we will never speak to you again under any circumstances  !$#%**#@

                                                                Sincerely,    Carole and Dick Eustis

 

.....The ? after the word, "beloved" means, I suppose, hopefully, that it should not be taken in the pejorative sense.  I was actually beloved by my mother. In truth, I was invited to this "wretched affair" and so were the school janitor and a couple of bus drivers.  It's a wonder, and is a fine example of my good nature, that I didn't fire Dick Eustis--whom I generally referred to as Dick Eusless. Well, to end this discussion, I have been beloved (?), to this very day by many students and colleagues. But for the benefit of non-believers, I've forgotten their names.

.....Yesterday, I witnessed the incredible destruction of the Bazilian Myth. Never before had they been beaten on their own soil, until Germany fired their missiles at them and came away with a 7-1 blitzkrieg!  It was like a "friendly" between a pro team and an amateur.  The back line of Brazil were like whirling dervishes as they watched the ball find the net. Seven to one? In a World Cup semi-final? Obviously the Brazilians had more sex than sleep the night before the game.  I can think of no other explanation.

 

 

 

                                             

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet" (Shakespeare)

.....I got telephone calls yesterday from Bonny, Robin, and Katrina.  That adds up to two daughters and a granddaughter who has been kind enough to supply Rhoda and me with two great grandsons--Huston and Brooks Owen.  Of course their surnames will be Hudgens which does not carry on the name, Ross, by any means.  There remains only Adam Ross who is now 32 and seems not to be in any hurry to start a family with his bride, Tucky.  One day I'll learn how she came by that name and it would interest me to learn her Thai surname.  I may not be around long enough to have great grandsons named "Ross" by Adam and Tucky.  In fact I may not be around long enough even to see Brooks, although Robin did indicate that she and Bonny and perhaps Katrina and the babies may come here before year's end. 

 

.....Although the name, Ross, may be in short supply for a short while, my name, until I changed it after WWII, was Rosenberg, a name of which there may be many because my cousin, Peter, from New Jersey produced a couple or even several boys who are spread around the country.  My father's brother, my Uncle Morris was, of course, Jewish, but his wife was Catholic, and that is how their children were raised--Catholic if you didn't hear me.  So, there are all these Rosenbergs, Catholic second cousins with Jewish names, who are carrying on the name I was born with, which is not of great concern to me.  Just a matter of interest.

 

.....Their has been some weird events during the last several days in this house.  One day the TV in the living room blacked out for several minutes, and when the picture came back it came with no sound.  A real bummer trying to keep up with the closed captions.  However, on the following day, the sound returned.  Then my printer stopped working just as I needed it, followed by the computer which shut down with only the words, "No Signal" on the monitor.  This event required for me a Tylenol and a Xanax.  The printer still doesn't work, but the computer was fine on the following day.  And life in retirement goes on.

"He that wants money, means, and content is without three good friends" (AYLI)

.

Mike HerbstmanJuly 5, 2014 at 10:39 AM

Your glaring omission of my name in your latest blog, naming your good friends, forced me to take a particular action. I have removed your name and picture from my FaceBook Page. I attempted to mitigate the consequences of this act, but could not find any other method that make it seem less severe, but in the end, your photo and name were directed to cybernetic banishment simply by the stroke of my cursor.
This will not effect the future possible restaurant excursions we manage to maintain. I cannot see withholding the critiques that you so require from time to time, so your punishment will not seem that atavistic.
The omission has put me in a precarious condition, possibly lowering my fellow condo commandos outlook toward my pragmatic and forward thinking.
An apology might be accepted when published in the same venue.

Baron
....Mr. Herbstman's feelings were damaged to a fault; I don't like to have my picture removed from anyone's Facebook because it's a punishment beyond belief.  In fact it is shameful to suffer such a slight.  And all because, no doubt, he read  in my previous post about my loss of friends, and though he will, on occasion, honor  us with his presence at Longhorn's where he always tells the waitress "Separate checks, please."  Quaint.

.....I call him "Mike" because I do consider him a beloved culinary type friend, and I offer him a tearful sea of mea culpa apologies for leaving him off the kinds of friends I had growing up and sharing puberty with them.  If Mike has a modicum of puberty in him then I will place him high on my list of the Kelly Street Apaches of which gang I was a member.  Oh, I forgot Jack Richman and Al Oran.  And Normie Davidson was my mentor; he told me what happens when you masturbate for a few minutes.  I'll be forever grateful to him for this advice. 

 

Baron

....I got an email today from my beloved Bonny who always thinks of me.  So she sent me an article about how people with PAD (peripheral artery disease) can walk further if they eat a bar of chocolate before walking.  A couple of researching doctors discovered this aid, but they needn't have gone through all that trouble if they only asked me about something I already knew.  Ooooo Oooo, I'd love to have a couple of bars of dark chocolate with dark chocolate ice cream and corn on the cob for an appetizer and then dark Kentucky Fried chicken for dinner.  After 90 years, I cannot change my eating habits. After my beloved wife read the article, she  sent the following email to Bonny and my beloved Robin:
 

RH+
.....That article is very interesting, but your Dad ONLY eats dark chocolate and has been doing that for as long as I know him.  It's probably why he was able to run 2 marathons.  I think age has something to do with his problem and also peripheral artery disease, which he does have.  I'll just have to feed him more dark chocolate, but the results may be that he only gains weight, which we don't want him to do.