"O, what a noble mind is here o'erthrown." (Hamlet)

...Billy and I picked Rho up at the airport when her plane finally arrived from Newark at 12:24. I am indebted to him because I did not want to drive at that hour alone because I don't trust myself. We took his car, and so he drove. I told him I certainly wouldn't want to get in a car with an 85 year-old at the wheel at night. Funny. When I was ten, I thought 40 was old; when I was 20, I thought 50 was old; when I was 30, I thought 60 was old; when I was 40, I thought 70 was old; at 50, I thought 80 was old. Now that I'm 85, I think 90 is old. If I get there, I'm sure I'll think 100 is old. That way, I think, I'll never, ever get old. "Cogito ergo sum"--I think, therefore I am, as Descarte would say.

...I wonder how many 80+ year-olds there are who have written as much as I have. I've published one autobiography--my memoirs; four books of my blogs; and a book of poetry, and now working on Volume five of my "Pater Noster in Condoland". As I have said prior to this, I hope these books will be preserved after my demise down through the years so that my descendant grandchildren will have the benefit of knowing how their great, great, great++ grandparents lived, and learn a bit, also, about WWII which will be as distant a memory to them as the Revolutionary War is to us.

...No doubt at that time there will be unimaginable advances in medicine and technology. Hopefully we'll have a green planet. Perhaps automobiles will be getting a 100 miles a gallon of new found fuel; perhaps many more families will have their own aircraft, thus relieving traffic on our highways. Perhaps kids will have cell phones allowing them to talk to their counterparts in foreign countries because the voice messages would be instantly translated into each other's language as they spoke. Cancer will be cured. Diabetes will be cured, as well as many other medical problems.

...The good thing is that there will be very few doctors around. Medicare will be a thing of the past. Social Security will not be needed. Obama's progeny will be elected every eight years and the country will be out of debt with a surplus in the treasury. Everyone will have a health plan but would rarely use it. Every high school grad will go to college free of tuition and teachers will be earning as much as lawyers. Republicans and Democrats will be replaced by Mensacrats and Sociocrats. And will someone volunteer to wake me up before I'm dragged off to the looney bin?

"When trouble comes...it comes in battalions." (Hamlet)

...Things are not going too well at this point. Rhoda was supposed to take off from Newark on Jet Blue at 5:25 arriving at West Palm at 8:17. However, her flight has been delayed and her arrival time is now 11:20.,,so at this point the flight is three hours late. Rho called me from the plane which is sitting on the runway, but not ready to take off--apparently because it has to be loaded with provisions, snacks, drinks and what-not sufficient for the flight back to Newark. I don't feel comfortable driving at that hour alone. If I were younger, it wouldn't be a problem. I called a neighbor to see if he would come with me, but I had to leave a message. I know I should get someone before this post is finished.

...The other problem was my dinner. I thought that spaghetti with butter would be satisfactory, but it wasn't. I used too much of it, and when I drained it, some of it stuck together. I ate most of it, but it wasn't pleasant--besides my partial came out and I had to do something to fix it so it would stay on. It has been difficult because the teeth it was anchored to came off. It will take some time, but the dental clinic at the VA Medical Center will eventually take care of it. Meanwhile, some good has come out of this culinary carnival--I lost five pounds. Well then, perhaps this is a good thing; if the partial is never fixed Ill lose more pounds until I get skinny. This is like a mushy diet; I could write a book and suggest to people who have partials to dump them and just eat jello, oatmeal, apple sauce, spaghetti, wonton soup, and Dunkin Doughnuts. I'm sure such a book would go to the top of the charts.

...So, just forget about the problems--I had some fun with Marilyn. I e-mailed her and asked her to tell me how to make a bed. She wrote back that I should fit a sheet on it and then throw a blanket over it. Then I asked her what I should do with the pillows. She wrote that I should fluff them up and put them at the head of the bed. OK, so now I will ask her to tell me how to wash the dark things because Rho always separated the dark things from everything else before she put them in the wash. I am sure Marilyn will know what to do. In order to keep these academic lessons going I might even ask her how to put the toilet paper on the holder. That's a tough one.

Now, I've learned that Rhoda's flight will not arrive at West Palm until 12:20am., so it's 4 hours late up until now. I called Mike to ask if he'd like a midnight ride, but he has a stress test tomorrow so he can't help. I called Billy but he's not home. Maybe they went to a movie. Perhaps I'll call Gary a little later. I called Jet Blue to find out if the plane has taken off, but the agent said it' s taxiing. Baloney. Well, I just made myself a pretzel and I finished a bottle of diet Coke. The plane finally took off at 9:24 and due to arrive at 12:24. Billy called me back and he offered to drive. Well, that's what friends are for. I would do the same for him in a microsecond. Anyway, to tell the truth even I wouldn't want to get into a car with an 85 year old guy at the wheel. Safety first.

Father knows best: No Fear Shakespeare

...A most fantastic occurrence just finished occurring. About a half hour ago while I was in China Gardens feasting on a lobster. Since I was alone with no one to talk to, (Rho was at a Bar Mitzvah in Jersey) I reminded myself of the fact that yesterday I started to watch the tape I made of the TV presentation of "King Lear". I watched for about fifteen minutes and it was so utterly riveting I stopped--because I wanted Rhoda to see it with me.. Sir Ian McKellen played the lead and he was really Lear. No doubt about it. Although there was closed caption offered, there was no necessity for it because the acting was so magnificent and easy to understand. No fear Shakespeare. So, on to the fantastic occurrence; while I was finishing my orange sherbet I thought that if some genie out of a bottle of Diet Sprite offered me one wish, I would be overwhelmed with gratitude if I could just go back to the 16th Century and watch Shakespeare as he was at his desk, or whatever, writing a play. Well, I disappointed myself knowing that it couldn't happen. However, when I opened my fortune cookie, the message was "Your dearest dream will come true" !! I was completely stunned. I thought that this chain of events couldn't happen; in addition it was a little scary. I got the cookie's message even without the genie popping out of a bottle. I was pretty certain now that when I die, that's when the wish would come true. However, it will be a long time before that can happen. I can barely wait.

...So, now on to something else with more sanity involved than with the "fantastic occurrence" which was insane. As a comment to the post, "Mea Culpa"--(my sin), son JR wrote a comment which I suppose was engendered by the in-house performer who wrote that her mother told her to say something nice or say nothing at all. I really don't want Joel's comment on that to get lost at the bottom of a previous post, so I would like share it with you here:

...Why is it always "my mother taught me..."? Doesn't the father ever teach something worthwhile that is helpful in later life ("always wear clean underwear")? I, for one, find myself often beginning a sentence, "my father taught me...." Actually, one thing my father taught me was that you show more respect to another person by being honest rather than polite. Being polite has its benefits, but it's highly overrated. Or should I have not just given my opinion, because someone, somewhere, somehow might be offended?

...Well, I'll just have to agree with my son, because if I don't he might cry; at least that's what he used to do when he was about 8 or 10; but now he's 50 something and I suspect that there would be a different reaction if I disagreed. So, I won't. But I believe that his comment deserves some serious thought. Perhaps we might set up a poll as they do in presidential campaigns. There were plenty of those during the Obama-Clinton battle. In this case father knows best.