GENESIS, CH.2010 Vs. 2:27

.....and lo, it came to pass that Jacob lay with Sonny and thence came Michael, Morris, and Jean, and it came to pass that Michael lay with Shirley, and the Lord blest Michael with Norman and Elizabeth, and it came to pass that the Lord did also blest Norman, the best and wisest of men, and therefore the Lord caused him to lie with Tobby, the blessest of women who became blest with two sons and two daughters, named Robin, Joel, Bobby and Bonny, and it came to pass that Joel cried out to the Lord, “Wherefore hast thou blesteth my father, Norman, and my grandfather, Jacob, and not I?” And the Lord replied “Whyfore asketh me such a question? Know ye not that thy father hast his father, Jacob’s seed, and that thy father is the best and wisest of men, and ye have not yet all thy teeth?” And it came to pass that Joel was sore distressed and therefore struck his brother, Bobby. And it came to pass that Bobby cried out to his brother, "Wherefore striketh thou me?" And lo his brother replied, "Because thou art there." And it came to pass that Bobby cried out to his father, Norman, “My brother, Joel, has strucketh me, and I am sore all over.” And therefore the Lord came to Robin, the most blesseth of women and said, “Comfort thy brethren and sister who loveth animals, and say to them that they have the seed of their parents, and when they have grown more wiseness and teeth that they will be blest with Adam, and Sean, and Hannah, and Katrina who will be blest with the seed of their grandfather, and will not joy in it for many, many years until they sorrow over not knowing their grandfather’s house where also liveth Rhoda, the most blessedeth and wisest of women who loveth all eight of her wisest husband’s progeny. And the Lord said it was good and blest the second month and the 27^th day. And on that day Norman, the best and wisesethist of men partieth until darkness falleth upon the earth.

"I am wealthy in my friends" (Shakespeare)

.....Genesis 8:14 "and lo on the second month and the 27th day was the earth dried."

.....In case anyone is wondering, this quote is taken from the translation of the Bible by the Jewish Publication Society according to the traditional Hebrew text. And our pal, Noah, who saved a bunch of animals for us--especially the cows who give us milk, and the steers who give us steaks finally had the earth dried on my birthday--well, not actually. That was something that happened way, way back. Noah, at the time was 500 years old. Nevertheless, it appears that he was still very spry having to build the ark all by himself. It's a wonder that it floated, since Noah did not have the technology to guide him as we do. I don't believe we have anyone 500 years old today; perhaps a hundred something. And tomorrow I'll be on my way, and I would like to live to 500 so I can be around when the health reform bill is passed.

.....Now that I'm going to be 86 tomorrow, I've been thinking about that "old gang of mine". I wonder how many of them still harbor some life. There's Leo Hartman, who lives in Boca. He and I were both in love with red-headed Terry Green, but we think she loved Al Oransky, now known as Al Oran. Al used to sell jewelry and married a girl named Shana. He lives in King's Point. One of my best friends was Bernie Lerner--he was in the Army Air Corps and flew in B17s over Germany. At one time I was a guest on his plane and after a bombing run over Berlin we were lucky to get back alive! After the war, Bernie was just hanging around so I put the pressure on him and finally got him to go to college--which he did, and graduated from City College with honors. I still feel good about what I did for him. Another friend whom I urged to go to college was Ernie Greenwald whose father was a rabbi. I believe both friends have passed on. These guys were all part of my gang in the South Bronx, sometimes known as Fort Apache. Our gang was called the Apaches. Then, there was Jack Richman, Billy Lerner, Morris Appel, and Normie Davidson. I do not know how they have fared; and there are several names that I cannot remember, but I'm certain they will come to me. We were all close knit; we all could dance the "Lindy Hop"; we all could play stickball. Wherever they are, I wish them well.

"It is the prerogative of great men to have great defects." (La Rochefaucauld)

.....I'm still reading selections from the Bible and I'm up to Samson. But as you can see from the image up here, Noah left a couple of guys off the Ark. Well, actually it was their fault. And as far as Samson is concerned, it was his fault for telling Delilah the source of his strength. She was too nosy anyway, but frailty, thy name is woman.

.....Saw the surgeon, Dr. Luskin, yesterday and after checking out the x-rays, he said everything looks good. I had my last in-house rehab with Penny the physical therapist and now have to make an appointment to start out-patient therapy in a gym where there is the kind of equipment I need until the surgery heals and I can toss away my walker. I have started to use the cane a little bit now, but can't go too far or too fast. Then last night we went to dinner with the Wolfs--Howard was once one of the counselors; now he still lives in Plainview but migrates to Florida in the winter. We went to a new Italian restaurant and I had one of my favorite dishes, shrimp parm. (Can't spell it, but I can eat it).

.....If you've read one of the previous blogs, you'll know that I've been wondering about my greatest accomplishments and failures. I mentioned that I felt the dissolution of my first marriage was my greatest failure, altho' it did last 30 years. I still feel that way, but there was nothing I could do about it probably because I didn't know what to do about it. And perhaps I didn't want to do anything about it. JR feels my non-relationship with the grandkids is my mea culpa, but finds it hard to accept any of my reasons, and from our "discussion" appears to put the blame for it on the grandfather. Oh, well. Can't win 'em all. Whatever happened to Joe Paterno when you need him?

,,,,,Now I've decided that my greatest accomplishment was the writing and publishing of my "Memoirs". There is nothing to match the feeling of having a book you have written actually in your hand. It really doesn't matter to me that not many people have bought it--it sells on "Amazon"--the fact that I've written it can't be taken away from me. Since 2007, I have published six books of this blog. I don't know how many posts I've written, but enough for publishing six books, and another on the way. It seems that I'm birthing babies! What a family. But even one book of my blogs is apparently meaningless.

.....On occasion, Sean (a grandson) who is going after his BA degree in California sends me his papers to proofread and edit. Today he sent me another one having to do with "Ethnology"--whatever that is. In the paper he describes his visit to a mall and goes on to write, in great detail, his experience in a Hollister store. We don't have one here as far as I know, but Sean's description of it is sufficient for me. I feel like I've been in that store after reading his paper. Both Joel and I went over the paper and corrected a few typos and changed some of the sentence structure. I don't know what course he is taking that requires this kind of essay, but it has something to do with "Ethnology". That's a tough one. According to Webster it has to do with the races of human beings, "...their origin, distribution, characteristics, and relations." I have no clue as to what it has to do with a Hollister store, but I'll think about it.

"I can believe anything provided it is incredible." (Wilde)

....Well, yesterday's blog did motivate several comments--each very astute. No one, however, has come up with a supreme, #1 accomplishment. Joel is no doubt correct in calling my relationship with grandchildren a failure. That it is, and I'm sorry and sad about that. I'm not about to get into who's to blame for it. However, I do have communication with Sean and Katrina--which is something; it's not frequent, but it's something. No doubt I'll have a better relationship with the great grandchildren assuming I'll be around for that event.

.....Today Rho and I went to the surgeon who put my hip back in order with some pins. I saw the x-rays and those "pins" looked like big nails to me. At any rate, he said that as soon as my in-house rehabs are over, I can begin to go to "out patient" rehab where I can work on some machines--including the bicycle no doubt. I still have my name on the ID bracelet that was put on my wrist in Whitehall--like they do in hospitals-- and I refuse to take it off until I am able to put away the walker that I have been depending upon. On that day when this wound is healed, we'll have some kind of ceremony when I cut off the green bracelet. I got a birthday card from Bonny and inside was a button that could be pinned on a shirt that says, "I've survived DAMN near everything" so I pinned it onto my suspenders. It's most appropriate and attracts attention.

.....I continue to read my selections from the Bible and I just read about how Joshua "fit the battle of Jericho"; the song keeps running around in my head. Why did he "fit" it? Well, a glance at a map will reveal the military importance of Jericho. It was the gateway to the passes leading from the east to the interior of Palestine. The Lord gave Joshua some very strange military tactics before the walls fell down. He ordered the priests (?) to circle the city once each day for six days carrying ram's horn trumpets and the Ark of the Covenant before them--or behind them--it's not too clear to me, nor is the reasoning. Then on the seventh day (everything seems to happen on the seventh day) the priests were to circle the city seven times and after the seventh time the priests were to blow their ram's horn trumpets and all the people were to give a "great shout" and the walls of Jericho would fall down and Joshua and his army would go in and kill everything that lived. That story incredible. As far as the great shout is concerned, I believe I've heard louder noises in several restaurants I've dined in--or classrooms that I've taught in. But I don' t think that Joshua or the Lord had to go to all that trouble. Remember that President Reagan wanting the wall between East and West Germany to come down--all he did was say, "Mr. Gorbachev take down that wall," and shortly thereafter the wall came down without all the marching around the city and all the shouting and ram's horn trumpets blasting and schlepping the Ark. Next up to the plate is Samson; I'm fond of him because he grows his hair long.

"And so from hour to hour we ripe and ripe..." (AYLI)

.....I had a problem with Monday's blog--it seems now that the last couple of paragraphs are double spaced. I'm no techie, and I don't know how that happened, but at least it's readable now. Prior to the double spacing, the last words of each line ran off the page so that they couldn't be read. I tried everything I know about copying and pasting, but I still couldn't get the text into single spacing. Perhaps someone out there knows what went went wrong and can say how to fix it. The Baron would appreciate it because he only knows about flying and shooting down hundreds of Stukas and Messerschmitzes (?) and Zeroes. That has proven to be much easier than fixing things that go wrong on the computer. My 86th is Saturday and I don't want any more problems. Bonny sent a birthday card which contained a button saying, "I've survived DAMN near Everything!" In my case--very appropriate.

.....The physical therapist is coming again today and Thursday, and I'm hoping for the final times. I don't know how much good it is doing me. My hip surgery doesn't appear to be healing too rapidly. Tomorrow I'll get more news with my appointment with the surgeon. The one positive thus far is that I am now driving again. Fortunately, Rho found the wallet that she misplaced a few weeks ago. It was under some clothing in a bureau drawer and it had my license in it. I do have an appointment at the MVB next week for a replacement license, so now I'm happy to have to cancel it.

.....Now that I'm approaching my 86th birthday I've had on my mind to decide what in my life has been my greatest accomplishment, what has brought me the greatest satisfaction--and what has been the greatest disappointment or failure. Arriving at the answers to these three questions is extremely difficult and possibly unachievable. When one has lived a life as long as I have, I suppose that can be considered as a great achievement in itself! Let's start with the failure, however, since that is easier to arrive at than the other two; I would say that the dissolution of my first marriage is the answer to that question--pure and simple. Even though Thelma and I had been married 30 years, the marriage just seemed to dissolve--to fizzle out. Who was at fault? Well, I suppose I shall have to bear some of the blame--if not most of it, but it doesn't really matter anymore. Speaking of my marriage, I'd have to say that raising four children--successfully-- can be considered an accomplishment; it took some 21 years to succeed in that effort. But I don't know if that was the greatest or not; I'd have to say that seeing them all succeed in their life choices is of great satisfaction, I don't know if that can be noted as being the greatest or not. Perhaps by Saturday I can come up with some answers.

.....However, if anyone wants to make some suggestions, feel free to do so. (Consider the two marathons!)

"Just as the twig is bent, the tree's inclined." (Alexander Pope)

.....In my reading, I've gotten to the original Passover when Moses led the Israelites out of the land of Egypt--freed from bondage. I see, too, that they actually sped out so fast that they couldn't leaven the bread, so I imagine they had to exist on Manischewitz. I didn't read anything about wine, but I'm certain they managed to carry a few bottles with them. The part that I read said nothing about gefilte fish or a salted egg. That's about as far as I got before nodding off to sleep. I'm sure I left out a few details, but if you are Jewish you know what they are, anyway.

.....I recently got an e-mail for John Storojev who was a student of mine back in Sea Cliff in 1957. I also got an invitation to become a friend of his on facebook. I really don't have much to do with facebook, but if I'm invited to be a friend, how can I, or anyone else refuse? So, I went to his web site and left a message and I got a goodly response:

I understand from Buster that you had a health issue

recently relating to some wild dancing you were doing

on a cruise. Hope you have mended by now. Rem-

ember to warm up before doing the jitterbug! Your

influence as a teacher, has served me over the years

in my writing and currently in my teaching. I won’t go

into details here, but suffice to say that the greatest

reward one can receive is to influence young minds

toward a positive and creative direction. That you’ve

done in my case and deserve to know it. I am sure

I am not the only one. Keep well, John

…..What is there in life that can best receiving indications

That one’s students have been influenced in a truly positive

way from one’s teaching? The amazing part of this is that

John, along with his peers, is now nearing 70—or has already

Attained that age and still remembers a teacher. I can only

Remember Mr. Chambers, my swimming coach and I can’t

Really recall much about him except getting thrown into the

pool. Great teaching has always been associated with person-

ality—a personality that is capable of interpreting living

realities—of opening new avenues of light and understanding—

and of assisting his students to use their own powers to the

fullest degree.

"The weight of this sad time we must obey." (King Lear)

.....In reading selections from the Bible, of course, there was the adventure of Noah and his Ark, and while reading it, I came across a very interesting and important date in that story and I'd like to recount it here. Besides, you'll get an idea of the quality of the translation:

.....And it came to pass in the six hundredth and first year, in the first month, the waters were dried up from the earth: and Noah removed the covering of the ark, and looked, and, behold, the face of the ground was dry. And in the second month, on the seven and twentieth day of the month, was the earth dried. !!!

.....Now, that last sentence happens to be my birthday--February 27th (but not the six hundredth and first year. Give me a break). This made me so happy! Just think--the Lord dried the earth for Noah and me on my birthday! So, naturally, RH-- broke the spell by telling me that the second month referred to in the Bible is not February. In the Jewish calendar, the second month is Shevat and my birthday comes out on Adar. What a letdown. Well it's still the second month on the 27th day. Can't take that away from me. What I do wish is taken away from me is this walker that I have to use while my broken hip is healing. I truly hate all appurtenances that hinder my ability to walk and to run. Right now, I have a cane, a walker, a scooter, and a wheelchair. At the present time I am stuck with the walker. I insisted when we bought it that it wouldn't be that battleship grey that every other 80+ is using, so I do have a red one decorated with Harley-Davidson stickers which fools people into thinking that my walker is motorized. All I need to complete the picture is a leather jacket and a bandana to cover my long hair.

.....My hip doesn't feel like it's healing quickly enough. After all, it's been two agonizing months now. At least I'm no longer a prisoner in that re-hab center, but I do have a physical therapist coming to the house three times a week. I don't think she's doing me any real good except for helping my balance. What I really need is to get to an outpatient re-hab gym that has bicycles, rowing machines, etc. I would like to rid myself of the walker and get back to the cane. It's more manly. Right now after falling from the top bunk of the auto-train and ripping skin from my body; after having suicidal pain from melanoma surgery; after falling out of bed and ripping more skin; after having a mountain of water bottles fall on me in Walmart; after breaking my hip, I feel like Job in the Bible. Lord, why me?

.....Well, it's Sunday now, and Rho and I have decided to go to the Isle Casino and try to win enough money to pay for a cruise in May. Since we only got through three days of a ten day cruise in December, I owe her seven more days, and there is a seven day cruise to the Caribbean in May on the "Oasis of the Seas" the biggest cruise ship ever. It has a boardwalk, a park, a golf course, and several restaurants and swimming pools. We are in desperate need of some fun, and money is not an object.

"Oh Brave New World!" IV (The Tempest) continued...

….…I am obliged to respond to son Joel’s comment on the “biblical” blog I wrote yesterday. It might be more understandable if one reads that before my response which follows.

…..First off--I am not "implying" that reading the Bible is "onerous;" only the behavior of some of our ancient ancestors; there's a difference. JR is not privy to the book I am reading which contains translations of biblical selections about events in the Pentateuch—Genesis and Exodus—to begin with; there are still more translations to come that I haven’t read yet, including selections from the New Testament. This is the book I’ve chosen to read, without commentaries of explanation which I find unnecessary. I am not reading the Bible. But, nevertheless, the passages in the book are complete and faithful to the events selected, with nothing left out of the original according to the editor of this book, who also willy-nilly, selected his own choices to include, which is his right.

….. I have also chosen the events that lend themselves to satire, and of course as a “bloggist” I could not include every single detail in the selections that JR would have me do—like Noah bringing in seven pairs of an animal. Who cares? My blog doesn’t pretend to be a definitive biblical commentary, so I chose the ones that I enjoyed the most-- not every one that JR seems to require and therefore questions my humble attempt to entertain my readers, not educate them. Of course, JR is free to write his own version of biblical tales and include every detail that would please him. It is to be noted, however, that in his book, “Phases of the Moon” he obviously has left out many details including real names of living people, and only hints at what happened in the hayloft. That’s his prerogative. And insofar as “Hamlet” is concerned, writers from Shakespeare’s own time down to ours have examined everything there is to examine, and on occasion, leaving out Polonius when he’s not needed. But all else aside, I urge you to read Joel's book; it's probably for sale on Lulu.com or possibly on Amazon. It's quite interesting, even though it leaves out the person who wisely gave him permission to go to Israel right after high school instead of going straight to Cornell, and therefore, in some way, is responsible for the publishing of that book and deserves some credit.

"Oh Brave New World!" III (The Tempest)

.....I have had an email from a reader who wants to know whether or not I'm reading the King James version of the Bible. The answer is a big NO.

.....I am not reading the King James version. I am reading a book of selections from the Old and New Testaments in a modern translation of the stories in a book once used in the NSHS curriculum.. The book does not indicate who did the translations--but it sure reads like a bible--and literature. If the average reader attempts to read the Bible he's confronted with a volume of more than a 1000 pages printed in double columns and bound forbiddingly in black cloth or imitation leather. After a while he bogs down, gives up, and goes on to try "War and Peace." I am also not "glossing" over the text, and I'm "reading all the words." As far as any objection to the last line as "gratuitous" is concerned, it's satirical like all the rest of the blogs. However, I am not Jonathan Swift. I am only the Baron.

…..The wallet that was lost has been found.

"Oh Brave New World!" (The Tempest) Continued.....

.....Since I do not delight in modern currents of literature, I have taken to start all over in my literary education and the logical place to start is the Bible, not Cynewulf. As you have noted from the previous blog, I have begun reading Genesis from the Pentateuch and I have been shocked by all the sinning I have encountered; murders, assignations, incest, lies, and deceptions that would even make Tiger Woods blush. For example, Sarah allowed Abraham to bed down her handmaiden, Hagar, who gave birth to Ishmael who produced a whole nation of Arabs. But that's not the worst of the problems. God was not happy with the work he had done, probably because he did so much in seven days; haste makes waste, and God decided to "waste" the world and everybody and squiggly thing in it. But so it wouldn't be a total loss, he contracted Noah to build an ark and take two of every living thing inside of it, before God made it rain for forty days and nights. Finally the flood began to recede and Noah found himself and his ark doing a balancing trick atop Mt. Ararat rocking like a see-saw. And whatever happened to Cain? I do not recall his having been tried in court for having committed fratricide.

.....So, skipping right along in this narrative which reads like a combination of Desperate Housewives and Debby Loves Dallas. Then there is Lot, Abraham's nephew as far as I can tell, who was told by God to leave Sodom and Gomorrah and never look back because God would cause an earthquake to destroy these cities of sin, so much like Las Vegas. How sin got on Earth we don't really know--unless it was Satan; but then, who created Satan if not God? It's like the Time's crossword puzzle. Lot took to the road with his wife, two daughters and their husbands, but his wife looked back and promptly turned into a pillar of salt. Lot eventually boarded down in a cave but without the husbands, and that was another problem. The girls decided that no men would come along to bed them down, so they each put a couple of roofies in Dad's wine and while he slept they co-habited with him and each girl became impregnated. Now, I don't know how they could accomplish this while Lot was asleep, and I don't relish keeping the image of it in my imagination.

.....The primary values of the Bible, it is generally agreed, are spiritual. It is significant, however, that many of the books of the Bible are important not only as religious documents but also as works of literature. And that's how and why I am reading them. They may be read and studied for their literary values, just as HAMLET or PARADISE LOST, or the CANTERBURY TALES are read and studied. They are a part of world literature and, in their English translation, of English literature as well. And that is why I made it a reading requirement in my English Department's curriculum, years ago. And that is why I am satirizing some of the selections in Genesis--as literature. I do not mean to be disrespectful of those who read the Bible religiously. But, I suppose I am protected by the First Amendment, and by the police against tea party protests.

"Oh Brave New World!" (The Tempest)

.....As of this date, I have run out of suitable reading material. Oh, I do read TIME magazine, but I can do that in one night while lying in bed from 11;30 to 12:30 a.m. The newspaper I read in the morning over a cup of java and an Oreo cookie--the one with the chocolate creme in the center. I've read Aristotle, Plato, and Socrates, graduating gradually to BEOWULF, and Chaucer. Then all the books of writers like Petrarch, Milton, Shakespeare, Ben Jonson, Samuel Pepys, Jane Austen, Charles Dickens, James Fenimore Cooper, Walt Disney (?), Ernest Hemingway, Charles Darwin, and so on into the night. I'm averse to reading fluff like ANGELS & DEMONS, or THE DAVINCI CODE. I can always watch the movie in two hours. So, now if I want to read something that sticks to the ribs and brain cells, I'm forced to go back to basics. Consequently, I am now reading the Bible. A good place to start.

.....The Bible is a very interesting but controversial book. It begins with Genesis and explains how God made the world with all the people, animals, plants, and squiggly things in seven days and nights. He saved the best for last--woman. Woman needs man and man must have his mate, that no one can deny. Hmmmm. The Bible does not indicate who made God. That's where "faith" and the "big bang" originated. At first God made Adam and Eve to be naked and they were ashamed, goodness knows why for Adam was not yet afflicted with erectile dysfunction, and Eve's breasts were still perky. Since there was no Victoria's Secret at the time (Satan's creation), God provided them with fig leafs; that's what the book says--don't blame me. I imagine Adam had to wear suspenders to keep the leaf up, but God had not yet made that device so he kept his legs close together. Eve found a way, but that's a secret; women are very resourceful. However, God had not yet invented brassieres, but Eve had no shame.

.....When I began this blog, I said that the Bible was a controversial book and subject to much interpretation. For example, before you knew it, those two were horny and couldn't wait, and Eve conceived Cain and Abel. I don't know where she got those names--there was no baby book. Regardless, Cain for some reason--because he was "wrothful" slew his brother and then God asked Cain, "Where is your brother?" If this was really and truly God, he should have known where Abel was--Everyone else knows he was "dust". Cain replied to God's query, "Am I my brother's keeper?" A clear case of plagiarism.

.....Prior to these events, God had admonished Adam and Eve not to eat the fruit of a tree of evil; but Eve disobeyed to our everlasting dismay and bit into an apple from that tree and offered Adam a bite, and he bit. Now we have to work for 30 to 40 years and woman has to suffer pain in childbirth. This seems to me to be a clear case of a wrathful, and not a merciful God as some prefer. I'm no expert on this, so vote for your own guy.

"The rest is silence..." (Hamlet)

.....Rhoda's "kids" and granddaughters came in for Presidents' Week and today it is our honor to entertain Allyson, 12, because Jeff and Renee are taking Ilana, 16, down to Miami to look over the University. One day or two this week they are going up to Gainsville to check out the University of Florida. The smart thing for a high school graduate to do is to register for a college in a warm climate. Rho's nephew, Max, is going to Buffalo where going to winter weather classes is not nearly as tolerable as they are in Miami. I ought to know because I went to Columbia in the winter. Not good. Parents should send their kids to work for a year or two before sending them to college, anyway. The Cohen family comes to Florida every February. So happens, the chill is in this year. The Ross family attempted to come to visit us one Christmas week in the last millennium and when Joel and Barbara hit Jacksonville, it snowed and made driving an unhappy experience. Finally when they got to Delray Beach, they found there was no electricity to warm them up here in our house. They have never tried this again.

.....Just so I would know how they would spend their inheritance, I gave the two girls each 5K. I believe in doing that so that children, siblings, and grandkids won't get to battling each other over money when the patriarch (me) is dispatched. Now, at least I know how Ally is spending her money. She bought an apple laptop for which her parents likely would not purchase. Ally also arrived here with her blueberry or strawberry or addleberry or whatever it's called, which her mother bought for her. I've learned that kids who carry this Devil's device around with them can never take their eyes from it--even at the dinner table at which such behavior has these days somehow become unrude. I don't know everything the cranberry does, but i do know it's magnetic--so there must be something metallic in the kids' eyes. The other problem I have with kids today--and at times even with their parents-- is that they must be speaking another language since I often cannot understand a word they are saying. Problem is they slur and elide their words and speak them whispery and so fast that they seem to want to be getting on to do something else. I tried putting on my hearing aids, but they aren't much help.

.....As the days roll on, I am still getting physical therapists in the house three times a week, and I'm getting really bored with whatever they ask me to do. I am down to waiting once again for some part of my body to heal. Last night Rho and I went to see John Davidson do a show in our clubhouse. Of course, I had to use my walker to get in there and get to my seat. I'm actually overwhelmed with embarrassment to be using a walker in that circumstance, having all the people I know who have seen me cavorting on the stage, now to see me humbled with a walker. The walker and I do not have a very close relationship. I swore I'd never join the club that uses walkers. The moral is that a poisson shouldn't swear.

"Fortune brings in some boats that are not steer'd." (Cymbeline)

.....During the last three days I was treated to two luncheons sponsored by the City of Hope, the charitable organization whose chapter Rhoda is President of and I'm First Man. The first luncheon was on Wednesday and it was called the "donor" luncheon, evidently to recognize those members who have donated several sums of money to the Huntington Lakes' Chapter. At the Benvenuto Restaurant, there were about 120 women and "several" men whose money goes to the hospital in California where their research and doctors have as their purpose the curing of catastrophic diseases of both adults and children. That morning, I had as my breakfast a cup of coffee and a Mallomar. At the luncheon the salad consisted of mainly Romaine lettuce, which I don't touch, and some brisket which I don't eat unless Rhoda makes it. So I waited for the dessert which turned out to be a "profiterole"--pastry filled with ice cream. That was lunch. I have no recollection of what we had for dinner, though I know I must have had something, for she wouldn't let me get away with skipping it. We were supposed to be entertained by some guy, but he showed up an hour late while people were leaving, and the excuses he gave for being late was sufficient entertainment for me.

.....Yesterday's luncheon was held at a big hotel in Ft. Lauderdale and that was the "Children's Luncheon". There were all the City of Hope chapters in South Florida--approximately 300 women and "several" men. (Why are women always "lunching" and giving away their money and guys just sit around doing nothing?) The only luncheons where guys outnumber women are those that celebrate some sporting event or athlete. At any rate, I was determined to have a better breakfast than I had on Wednesday, and I suggested to Rh+ that we stop at a Dunkin' Donut's where I could get a cup of coffee and a coffee roll, but it was too late because we had to pick up a bus at the clubhouse that would spirit us away to this luncheon. Again, the salad was not up to my standard, and the meat did not look too appetizing, so once more, I waited on the dessert which turned out to be a thumb-sized piece of apple pastry. I told Rhoda that I'd like to stop at McDonald's to get a juicy hamburger for dinner, but as we were about to leave the house, it started raining in buckets, so I had to settle for a sardine sandwich at home. I can't wait to attend these same luncheons next year--they were so much fun!

.....Rho's daughter, son-in-law-, and Ally and Ilana were supposed to fly in early last night for Presidents' week, but they allowed four people who "had to get to Florida quickly" to take their tickets. But the airline gave each of them $500 to give up their seats. Two thousand dollars just to take a later flight. The airline even treated them to dinner. They did finally get in---at 3 a.m.--but $2000 richer. Nothing like that has enriched me lately. I just fall out of top bunks on auto trains, get melanoma surgery which doesn't heal for five months, get a mountain of bottled water to fall on me in Walmart, break my hip on a cruise ship and have to spend five weeks in rehab.

,,,,, I'm all atwitter to see what fortune awaits me next.

"Ye immortal gods! Where in the world are we?" (Cicero)

.....After the Feb. 8 piece I received a comment on it from Ruth Grimsley in England in the form of an e-mail. It's a trifle long to go into the comment box on the blog, but what she says is pertinent to my blog so she can be a guest blogger for the nonce:

Hi Cuz - I'm very impressed by both the quantity and quality of your output in your blog since your return from the rehabilitation centre (whose idea of rehabilitation was to wake you up early in the morning when it was the last thing you needed.) Thank you very much, cuz of mine.

I don't know that much about sport, but I was intrigued by your disquisition on the Greek philosophers' and Sophists' arguments on right and wrongdoing. I wouldn't disagree with anything you said, but would merely remind you that Greek theology rested on the basic conviction that he gods could themselves be capricious and merciless when it came to disposing of the affairs of mortals. In some ways this compares favourably with the Judaeo-Xtian idea of a merciful god. It's more in touch with reality: look at the Haitian earthquake! Does this accord with the concept of a merciful god? (Nah!) I know that some arguments have over the last couple of millennia been advanced to account for awful things happening within a merciful God's provision. For example, it has been argued that God has a plan for us all, even if we don't understand it at the time, but if we try, over time, we will see that it is all for our own good, to bring us closer to God. (Who decided that??) Additionally it has been argued that human suffering stimulates other humans to compassion and the relief of suffering in others, which are holy acts. All this no doubt makes sense to old-fashioned Jews and Christians, but most modern and liberal-thinking religious people have decided to by-pass all these very severe unrelenting views of the deity, and they simply state that there are a lot of things we'll never understand, and then they just humbly go on with their daily tasks of charity and the relief of suffering.

.....And so cuz Ruth has authored some other views of the concept of "justice". In this case her disquisition of the nature of gods and God. It's nice to have erudite opinions from so far away a country as England, and especially since I'm an Anglophile...first class. After all, Shakespeare was English and an author and an actor. Can't beat that.

"The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices make instruments to plague us." (Lear)

.....The Super Bowl game was more exciting than could be expected. The Saints were heavy underdogs, but they found the way to win. It certainly won't be the last time an underdog will win. And how do they do it? Grit; plain grit. I coached high school varsity soccer and track and field for thirty years and I could tell when my team would win, though they were expected to lose. I could see the boys' demeanor and camaraderie in the locker room. I could see in their eyes a determination, in the clench of their jaws a preparation, not for a soccer game, but for a battle.This was a moment that would define the extent of their skills. They may not have won every time I experienced this locker room spirit but their opponents found themselves in a thunderous struggle. The New Orlean Saints came marching in! And no doubt there were many drunks on Bourbon Street long into the night. Don't you just love it!!

.....Now, away from the mundane and into the controversial. A friend of mine claimed that the better team lost, and that it was an injustice. Long ago--2000+ years as a matter of fact, philosophers like Aristotle, Socrates, and Plato contemplated the meaning of "justice" and it's an interesting philosophic discussion even today. Perhaps the Colt's loss was truly "unjustified" and the Saints ought to give up the trophy. Traditionally, the Greeks' perception of justice was a certain set of acts that must be followed. The reason for being just was that Zeus rewarded those that were good and punished those that were bad. But in late fifth century Athens, this conception of divine reward and retribution had lost credibility. No one believed that this occurred. Why? People could see that many unjust men flourished, and many of the just were left behind, and the concept of "justice" became a matter of great controversy. The educators of the time, the tutors of the wealthy, regarded law and morality as "conventions". A few declared that we ought to be unjust when being unjust is to our advantage. (Why not? Makes sense.)

.....Of the norms and mores that we consider just, the claim was that these are simply conventions that hamper those that adhere to them and benefit those who flout them. Those who behave unjustly naturally gain power and become rulers; weak and stupid people who behave in accordance with justice fall by the wayside. These mores and norms of justice it was said, are conventions put in place by rulers (read politicians) to promote their own interests and to keep their subjects in a state of oppression. (Why not? Makes sense.)

.....So, according to the foregoing interpretation of the concept of "justice", the interception near the game's end by a Saint player was completely unjust behavior by a stronger team, and the Colt's were surely oppressed. Our society's view of justice demands that the Colt's be declared champions of the world--but it won't be done. Stronger forces were on the loose! Understand, that's why it happens the winning team is called "The Saints".

Pluck the Goose to Obtain the Feathers.

.....Today Rho went out with Mary Gurien for breakfast, lunch, and almost dinner. She also had an alignment and oil change on her car which now sports 11000 miles. Mary Gurien is one of my friends dating back to the 1950s when my ex and I were raising our children in East Meadow, Long Island. Mary's husband, now deceased, unfortunately, was a golfing partner for many years. Several friends from East Meadow followed me down here and adopted Rhoda as though they knew her forever. Rho goes out with each one periodically, and it's good to know that she does that and has so many friends who clamor for her time.

.....So, while she was out, I had to figure out what I could do in the apartment all day. I finished reading "Push" which was made into a movie that I don't want to see. I can't go anywhere because I don't have my driver's license. I do have an appointment on March 2 at the MVB to get another one. We still can't find my wallet which RH-- hid somewhere but doesn't remember where. That's what the hot sun does to you down here in the tropics. For all I know, the wallet (with $120) somehow made it to the Everglades. Well, to continue this essay, I decided to do my taxes, and the first thing I did was to figure out how much of my Social Security would be taxed. The form that is used for that purpose is like wading through a pool of mud. I had the feeling that I had been taxed for my SS back in my working days and now I'm being taxed again. If true, that's not fair.

.....When you fill out the SS Benefits Worksheet, you realize why they (IRA) called it "work", instead of "form". You first have to enter all the SS $$'s you received during the year; then you have slice it in half; then from the information on the 1040 or 1040A you must enter everything you already entered there from lines 7, 8a, 9a, 10, 11b, 12b and 13. At that point I had to rush for a calculator and a Tylenol. And this is only the beginning of that worksheet. I had the feeling that if I continued with this monstrous tax requirement that when finished, I would be off Tylenols and on to Xanaxes. Sorry. I can't go on. I have to grasp my walker and go take a nap.

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

.....A couple or more years ago, I played Henry Higgins in "My Fair Lady" here in the Huntington Lakes' Theatre of the Performing Arts, as it is proclaimed in a large stone sign down by the road leading in to our clubhouse--and again in huge letters over the doors to the theatre itself, which contains 600+ seats. We had an orchestra and the performance was highlighted by the fact that we did the show "in concert"; meaning that the actors were permitted to read from their scripts on stage. I was also the director of the show, and I think I did a pretty good job of that; however, I disappointed myself in my own performance. It was pretty mediocre, I thought. And I couldn't understand why until yesterday.

....Now, I had acted in the leading roles in several productions on our stage in past years.I was "...ruler of the Queens nahvy" in HMS Pinafore, Koko in the Mikado, my favorite show; I directed and played the lead in Pirates of Penzance, Tevye in Fiddler, Harold Hill in Music Man, and so on into the night. I felt pretty confident of my acting skills in those shows, calling on all the acting classes I had taken prior to these productions--both in college and here in Boca Raton with Val Chevron, an Equity member. And so I wondered what caused me to move about so clumsily and read my lines like a butcher...and I have nothing against butchers; they are meaty nice people.

.....We do have an acting class here every Thursday called "Theatre Workshop," and every month or so, the wannabe thespians put on some skits before an audience in the big ballroom--it's called "Showtime". There are more than 20 people in the class, and we/they/I have a lot of fun in the small TV room which is more intimate than the ballroom. Since I've been away from that class for more than six weeks, with a bum hip, I hadn't been able to keep up with what they were planning, nor did I have the opportunity to make suggestions for improving their skills (as the leader of the class asked me to do.) Well, during this Showtime, the "actors" are permitted to read from their scripts as we did in My Fair Lady, and to tell the truth, yesterday the performances were uniformly mediocre to poor to frightful. And so, I realized then why I floundered, flitted, and flopped around as Henry Higgins. Unless you are a professional Equity actor, amateurs are going to have a hard time and will tend to forget to ACT while reading scripts on stage. One forgets to project, to pronounce consonants clearly, to remember bodily movements called for, to touch on the nuances of the script. At this Showtime, most of the performers did not act their lines--they just depended on reading, forgetting everything in the lines that the skit called for.

.....If you're going to read lines while holding a script, and forget about ACTING, you might as well just duplicate the scripts and hand them out to the audience who can read for themselves. If I ever perform again, I will never hold another script in my hand. Yes,.....I know that the reason for reading lines from a script is done because most seniors, and even non-seniors have a hard time memorizing lines. Try doing "Trouble" from Music Man.

I met Mr. Average Man; we exchanged ideas; now my mind is a blank."

....."Doc" Rhoda tells me dancing is one of your favorite activities, so I hope you'll be up and moving your feet again soon...(after broken hip surgery). But whether you're on the ballroom floor or just sitting in a cozy chair, let the dance in your soul, which has inspired so many of us who've been blessed with knowing you, always bring you joy!"

...Love you much D.B.F.

.....And another note I received while rehabbing. This one, a takeoff on Thomas Randolph's poem, "Upon his Picture". Randolph was a 17th Century diplomat and poet, and this paraphrased by a former student....

Where in this Face?.....

The years have made us what we are now,

when every wrinkle tells us where the plow

of time has furrowed; when shorter we grow

and time moves faster and our feet more slow'

Age seals its final freckles on the face.

Look in the mirror now--where's here a trace

in all we are, of Who we were?

The memory's clear, the image is a blur.

Did these dry lips take that first welcome kiss?

Look--cheeks or hair--did he or she love this?

Who are you? we ask each other when

we meet . Please give yourself a name and then

memory restores your face again.

But face present or face past--which lies

when even those we loved wear time's disguise?

Is this a riddle for the mind or eyes?

What shall we believe--mirror or mind?

One of them is blind.

.....With all best wishes for a fast recovery and a new dance. Take care, W.K.

....Don't worry "Doc", you taught us a lot! B.M.

....Rhoda, please send "Doc" my heartfelt wishes for a speedy recovery and return to his post to continue regaling us with his wit and wisdom. B.F.

.....When I get letters like these from former students (now in their 50s and 60s!) it lights up my days and my life like candles in my dark distress. They beat Hallmark all to death! What more can I say? I'm thankful that I am home now guzzling diet Sprite, eating dark chocolate, and enjoying RH+s cooking once again. Of course, my hip surgery has not all healed yet, and I am getting physical therapy three times a week in the house. And I like W.Ks poem better than Randolph's. Stay tuned.

"I have a medicine that''s able to breathe life unto a stone." (All's Well)

.....On a different note from the ritual of aging, I have a cousin in Sheffield, England with whom, it seems, I am in virtual constant e-mail touch. I am immortalizing her in this blog because she has been my intellectual pen pal for...how long? We don't fool around with our topics...they are almost always meaningful. Cousin Ruth is not really my cousin; she's from my ex's side of the family, I believe. Otherwise I don't know who she is. But I have adopted her cousinwise, and her name is Ruth Grimsley. Sounds like a character right out of a Charles Dicken's novel...although it might be more likely if her name were something like Hester Grimsley. At any rate, she has read my book, she reads this blog, and she has watched numerous of my shows on video tape for which I am elated that someone is doing it.

.....While I was confined to Whitehall (also, coincidentally, sounds like a townhouse in a Dicken's work), Ruth was kind enough to write a poem for me explaining our relationship in--mostly iambic trimeter doggerel couplets, it seems. But that doesn't make her a bad person. At any rate, her poetic effort really lifted me out of my depression--having broken my hip; but I won't keep you in suspense any longer:

Two cousins both sides of th' Atlantic

Engaged in debates most semantic.

'Bout Hebrew they never debated

Though through it they both were related;

'Bout Yiddish they never would chat,

Which is strange, you'd think they would do that!

They never did talk about money--

And that is exceedingly funny.

They sometimes did talk about history,

But that wasn't much of a mystery.

But English was that which united them,

And that was what really excited them.

The English tongue looked so romantic,

About it they really went frantic.

Then one of them damaged his hip,

But he still didn't lose mental grip.

And this wouldn't stop them EVER

And as for stop talking--NEVER!!