Kid's Prayer

Saturday afternoon, December 15, 2012. I was strolling through Smith Haven Mall alone while my wife shopped. Something I have done many times before, but this day was different. This was the day after the events of 12/14/12 in Sandy Hook, Connecticut. It’s the height of the Christmas shopping season and I noticed little children more than I did on previous visits. I see parents holding little hands and carrying their kids, some even cuddling. I imagined, many of these kids wondered why the attention level on them had suddenly increased.

The massacre that occurred the day before had affected me, like many others, on a gut level, not only as a parent, but as a human. I see kids in the age range of the dead and I can’t get my brain around the thought of what those families are going through. Unable to leave the house, turn on the TV or the radio. Christmas and Hanukkah decorations still up. Struggling to keep it together for the sake of the other children they may have in their family. The focus going from unwrapped presents to a closed casket. Knowing the world is grieving with them now, but within a week, the attention will be gone and they will be left alone with only memories.

Social media is lighting up with candles, prayers, political debates for gun control and people just looking for reasons. There are no reasons. It’s time to admit the human race is a flawed experiment. Laws, technology, education will not change our makeup. We are just as primitive as the caveman. Still killing each other, no matter where or how we live, or what God we believe in. Each person has free will to act in good or evil. We can change our mind at any moment.

People are concerned that the world has gotten worse. It hasn't. I grew up in the 60’s. The decade of drugs, racial tension, political turmoil, the Vietnam War, the threat of communism, the Cuban missile crisis, etc. The world was not a better place back then. There is no such thing as the “good old days”. Every decade had challenges from the Civil War, The Great Depression, The Dust Bowl and The Holocaust and we got through it. Many people died. There was evil back then too. The number of deaths has not increased, it just got redirected.

I would like to believe that we have the power to change this pattern. I have hope for a new generation. At the age of 55, I fear I may never see it. I have a sinking feeling that things will get worse before they get better. However, relying on politicians, religious leaders and educators to fix this is not the answer.

There is only one possible answer.

 

US

WE HAVE TO DO IT
 

Through our children.

They are the ones who can save us from ourselves. They are the only hope for civilization.

BUT HOW?

SIMPLE
 

There is a relatively unknown singer/songwriter named Dan Bern who wrote a song called “Kids Prayer”. It says it all. Here is just an excerpt from it, followed by the entire song. Have a listen, have a good cry, then change the world.

Dan Bern - Kid's Prayer

Talk to your kids
Play with your kids
Tell them your dreams
And your disappointments
Listen with your kids
Listen to your kids
Watch your kids
Let your kids watch you
Tell your kids the truth
Best as you can tell it
No use telling lies
Your kids can always smell it
Cook for your kids
Let your kids cook for you
Sing with your kids
Teach your kids the blues
Learn their games
Teach them yours
Touch your kids
Find out what they know
Be sad with your kids
Be stupid with your kids
Learn with your kids
Cry with you kids
Be yourself with your kids
Be real with your kids
Embarrass your kids
Let them embarrass you
Be strong with your kids
Be tough with your kids
Be firm with your kids
Say "No" to your kids
Say "Yes" to your kids
Take it easy on your kids
You were a kid
Not so long ago
There are things you know
Your kids will never know
There’s places they live
Where you will never go
So dance with your kids
Paint with your kids
Walk with your kids
Tell stories to your kids
Watch movies with your kids
Eat popcorn with your kids
Tell secrets to your kids
Stop for rainbows with your kids
One day your kids
Won't be kids
And maybe they'll have kids of their own
Let’s hope they talk to their kids
Play with their kids
Tell them their dreams
And their disappointments

Dan Bern - Kid's Prayer http://youtu.be/uSke5BSzSjk

 

 

 

Another smart move

I have moved this blog to
www.stevieinsuburbia.wordpress.com

follow me over there...I'll put on a pot of coffee

Thank you for sticking with me.

Who Put The Bump

Who puts these speed bumps in parking lots? I understand the purpose is to keep people going at a reasonable speed.   Some are like little rides, kind of fun and they tickle my tummy. I wonder if less fortunate people tell their kids they are going  to an amusement park and just drive around Stop & Shop and hear the kids go "wheee" in the back seat. Some are too high and result in a thud that I am sure has destroyed the undercarriage of my car.  On occasion I hit it too hard and I am expecting to go home and discover a dozen broken eggs in my shopping bag. Let me just say, they don't really work. They frustrate people and inspire them to speed up in between the bumps, which is usually where I am walking. Most of the time they are painted yellow, so you can at least see them, but sometimes they aren't. Have you experienced the unforseen speed bump? That's the ride I don't like going on. It's the Space Mountain of speed bumps. I'm always thankful I didn't eat a hot dog before hitting one of those.

Daily Theme Song:
Barry Mann - Who Put the Bomp http://youtu.be/lXmsLe8t_gg

Got The Time

The world runs around late people. If the show is scheduled to start at 8pm, why doesn't it start until 8:15 or even 8:30? Because we have to wait for late people to decide to show up. If someone wants me to be somewhere at 7:30 do you know what I do? I leave early and get there at 7:15 and I wait for them to show up. This creates anxiety because I look at my watch every 30 seconds as it passes 7:30. It's rude and obnoxious, but yet so common. What really pisses me off is I actually sit and calculate what time they left. If they are 30 minutes away for a 7:30 appointment, they should have left at 7pm the absolute latest. I am sitting here at 8:05 thinking, they left later than the time they are actually supposed to arrive. Who does this? A lot of people. You have to make a conscious effort to actually show up that late. What are they thinking? Oh screw Stevie, he will wait. Maybe not next time.
Daily Theme Song:
Joe Jackson - Got The Time http://youtu.be/XTIPCc1nKYQ

Misery

We all wake up everyday with a decision to make. Are we going to be happy or miserable? I understand both of these emotions because I make the same decision. What bothers me is some people want you to feel the same as they do. If I choose to be miserable for the day the last thing I need is some happy peppy moron in my face trying to cheer me up. I am miserable, leave me alone, unless you want to join in on my misery. I have no problem with people who want to be a part of my gloominess. Nothing makes me feel better than another person complaining with me. It actually feels better than being happy with someone. I also find misery gets my creative juices flowing. Deep depression has given birth to my best ideas. That explains why most of my best writing took place in my 40's. That was one miserable decade. People try to fight depression with drugs and therapy. I say bring it on. It's important to feel like crap. It's good for you. If you feel depressed or sad, there is nowhere to go but up. If you're always happy, that's the best you are going to feel. What good is that? There are enough books about how to be happy to fill the state of Kansas. Who wants to be happy all the time. That is just boring and stupid. You are in a happy mood today? Get the hell out of my face. Happy Tuesday? Screw that. Miserable Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday sounds much better to me. Talk to me on Friday. Maybe then I will smile, but don't count on it. I feel better already.

Daily Theme Song:
The Beatles - Misery http://youtu.be/YSUz9iNVU7Y

Welcome To My Nightmare

Another fantastic week of comedy gigs has just passed. I have a dream, just like anyone. It's nice to have a dream of something bigger than yourself. I am not sure how to live without some goal in mind. The curse of having a dream is watching it start to come true. Whenever you have a little piece of your end goal come into fruition, it's nearly impossible to resist the urge to go "all in." There are days when I wish I had the guts to just pack it all in and get an RV and just travel around broke and free. I am in the entertainment field and it's difficult to concentrate on anything else. Performing is my drug of choice. The problem is I can't do it all the time, yet. I am not sure if I want to for fear that it may become that four letter word, "work." My dream is making the rest of my life a nightmare. I can't go a day without thinking about a future performance date or dates. I get depressed if I don't have enough dates booked. I have a fear that it may all come to an end. People don't understand the torture I am going through. Part of me wants to quit and end the madness. Funny thing is every time I think about quitting, something good happens. I like to think it's somebody up there keeping it going. Some divine intervention. It might be Freddie Krueger.

Daily Theme Song:
Alice Cooper - Welcome To My Nightmare http://youtu.be/IKpEoRlcHfA

Everyday is Like Sunday

Sunday is supposed to be the day to stay in bed until 11am. Wake up leisurely to the smell of bacon and coffee, just like in those commercials. If you have kids, forget waking up anytime after 7am. And even after the kids are gone, the automatic clock in your brain still wakes up well before 11am. Dogs have clocks too, in their bladders. How about lying around all day just reading the New York Times? They do it on the commercial for the New York Times. Not in my  house. First of all, I have no desire to read that liberal rag. Second of all, it's like 12 bucks now for the Sunday Times. Oh, I know. How about cooking the Sunday sauce while listening to Italian music on the radio? Football? Nope. Not in my house. For me, Sunday might as well be Tuesday. Sunday is just another day to get crap done before the weekend is over and turns into Monday. Monday, yeesh. The mother of crappy days. Life.

Daily Theme Song:
Morrissey - Everyday is Like Sunday http://youtu.be/nHBZFSYA12A

The Kids Are Alright

People love to brag about their kids. They have bumper stickers to prove it. Everything from "My kid is an honor student" to "My kid beat up your honor student." They post pictures of their wonderful kids on Facebook. Don't any of these people realize that nobody cares about their wonderful kids? I have seen sonogram pictures, baby pictures, toddler pictures. It eventually stops when they turn into teenagers. Then they post their own pictures in provocative poses. It's amazing how vain we have all become. I also love how people talk about how smart and unselfish and well behaved their kids are. Yet, I have seen more rude, self-centered and stupid kids than back in the days when nobody talked about their kids. I can usually tell when people are lying. "Bobby is a good kid. He tries. He is my challenging one" That translates to "Bobby robs liquor stores and is a father of three at the age of 16." We were all kids once. We all disappointed our parents at some point in time. That's what made us terrible parents in the first place. So, the kids are alright. It's the parents that are the problem. And the kids are not afraid to tell friends how inept, clueless and horrible their parents are. We should stop being proud of our kids. They are not proud of us. They want us to die so they can have all our money. Too soon?

Daily Theme Song:
The Who - The Kids Are Alright http://youtu.be/afam2nIae4o

Godzilla

I'm not paranoid enough without daily news alerts of killer mosquitoes, mad cows, infectious ticks and whatever else is waiting to destroy us. I am waiting for Mothra to show up and just devour Manhattan. Where is Godzilla when you need him? They blame everything from mild winters to hot summers to bath salts and Republicans for the West Nile virus. I think these mosquitoes have seen too many Twilight movies and they figure the best way to make the news is to become vampires. Only the female mosquito bites. So these vampire girls are making us sick, much like the vampire boys in the Twilight saga did.  And if the mosquitoes don't get you, the salmonella melons will. They say avoid hiking, pools of water. don't wear shorts, t-shirts or sandals. I could certainly do with less man feet. I think I will just stay home and avoid the outside all together. Besides, Godzilla vs Mothra is on TCM tomorrow morning. Oh no, there goes Tokyo.



Daily Theme Song:
Blue Oyster Cult - Godzilla http://youtu.be/ln8-Y-fIbqM

Hay Fever

Freshly mowed grass. Achoo. Pollen flowing from trees. Achoo. I thought allergies were associated with spring. I have never been prone to allergies but this year seems to be an exception. Tree pollen, ragweed, mold, mildew, humidity and the overall air quality is just making me...ah ah ah achoo. I have tried all the over the counter medications and they don't seem to have an effect. The 24 hour ones just give me a headache. It's really annoying. Achoo. I have also developed an allergy to certain foods. When I over eat, Achoo. When i drink water too fast. Achoo. And with my partial deviated septum, I honk. A honkchoo. It's loud. Like a fog horn on a boat. It scares the cats. It annoys my wife. I can't stop the noise. I run to another room in hopes I will get to the tissue box on time. I look up at the sun, or a light to induce the next honk. I never really know when I am finished. Spring allergies have turned into summer allergies. Achoo. I hate sneezing while driving because you can't sneeze with your eyes open. This could be worse than texting while driving. I don't want to be pulled over for a DWS. They would put me in a cell with other offenders and I guarantee there are no tissues. "What are you in for? oh, robbery? wow. me? I'm in for ah ah achoo..sorry."


Daily Theme Song:
The Kinks - Hay Fever http://youtu.be/Z3Xh7VB-u-U

Strip

The strip mall is a familiar sight in suburbia. It is also an indication of the state of the economy at any point in time. Forget the Gross National Product and the Consumer Price Index. I bet the economic health of any town is statistically tied to the the number of stores closed in any strip mall. The big box stores (Wal-Mart, Target, etc.) is often the blame. Politicians failed policies is always at the top of the hit list. However, did you ever stop to think that maybe, just maybe, those places were just poorly run establishments with overpriced merchandise and bad customer service? I can think of quite a few places I have been in that fall into that category. Although in some cases, it doesn't apply. How come I hardly see Chinese take-out places go under. No matter how run down they get, they stay in business. I refuse to get Chinese take-out in the summer if I see the front door open. That means they have no air conditioning and a million flies on the Egg Foo Young. No thank you. Also, doctors offices never seem to fail. No matter how nasty those receptionists are or how long they make you wait for a non-answer to your medical problem, they never close. So if there is a town out there in suburbia with strip malls filled with Chinese take-out places and Doctor's offices, their economy will always be booming. I bet there are a few of those in Florida, in between the Hospitals, Churches and cemeteries. I was driving with my Dad in Florida and he pointed out to me "watch this...Doctor's office, Church, Cemetery, Medical Center, church, fuenral parlor. People get sick, pray and die in Florida."  We stopped for Chinese food. The door was closed. They weren't out of business. They had air conditioning. I ordered the Egg Foo Young.

Daily Theme Song:
Adam Ant - Strip http://youtu.be/_Z7fV-wB2z8

My Little Runaway

Every morning on my way to work I see the same woman running. This has been going on for years. I notice her because I leave the same time every day and she is always at around the same spot. She lives in my neighborhood but I wouldn't recognize her without her sweatpants, earbuds, and sweaty tank top. She is getting thinner as time goes by. I guess the running program is helping to keep her in that shape. I don't know why she is running so much. I imagine it's for health reasons. Maybe she is  training for a marathon to fight breast cancer, kidney disease, diabetes, heart disease, ALS, or any other ailment that people feel the need to run for. Maybe it's just something she enjoys doing. I wave to her once in a while. She never waves back. Maybe she doesn't see me or she doesn't want to break her concentration.  I wonder what she is listening to on her I-Pod. I would imagine it's something that keeps her moving. Dance music or some old disco. She looks to be around 50 years old. I think Lionel Richie fits the bill, or Celine Dion. Hearing Celine Dion would make me run in the opposite direction. I hope she achieves her goals and wins what ever she is trying to win. A longer life maybe? She seems to be spending a great deal of her life running. One day, if I ever see her in a still position I will ask her why she runs. She might find my inquiry odd, get scared and run away from me. I would never catch her. I don't run. I drive. Because I have a car.

Daily Theme Song:

Del Shannon - Runaway http://youtu.be/0S13mP_pfEc

I've Gotta Get A Message To You

You know your life has reached a new low when the big part of your day is getting the mail. I still get a little flutter in my belly when I see that mail truck coming down my block. I watch from the window. I like my mailman. He waves to me. I give him a tip at Christmas and I always make a path for him in the snow storms.However, I don't like to go out there when he is at my mailbox. I wait and then run out. I don't even put shoes on. I run in my socks and open that box in hopes that something exciting will be in there. When I am expecting something in the mail it rarely comes on time. I hate the feeling of disappointment when it's not in there. I feel rejected for 24 hours until he arrives the next day. I hate when I go out there and the box is empty. Then I wonder "did he come? is there really no mail?" I have a tendency to check the box on Sunday, even though I know there is no mail on Sunday. Junk mail makes me angry and I get way too much of that.  Local maid service companies, landscapers, painters, gutter cleaners, all leave flyers in my mailbox. I throw them directly in the garbage. One guy has a driveway repair service and he leaves a little bag of rocks in my mailbox. The mail is slowing down because we communicate by e-mail now. There may come a time when we won't need mailmen (or letter carriers) anymore, and we won't get that warm feeling of getting a Birthday card or a letter from someone we haven't seen in years. E-mails excite me too, but there is something about that short trip to the mailbox that will always have a place in my heart.

Daily Theme Song:

The Bee Gees - I've Gotta Get A Message to You http://youtu.be/6RUjnqH3kMw

Jesus Is Just Alright

Sunday is Church day for a lot of people. Especially in the suburbs. There are lots of churches of all denominations. I was raised Greek Orthodox. As a boy, I didn't understand what that meant other than I went to a different Church than my other friends. They were Catholic. They went to Catholic school .They would tell me horror stories about the nuns beating them. To this day, I am afraid of nuns. I have never been beaten by a nun, but apparently they have the propensity to kick ass. Throughout my adult life, I have not been a regular Church goer. I only go for weddings, funerals, baptisms, confirmations, and that's about it. You can watch church on television. I always find that interesting. There is channel that just shows Church 24 hours a day. Who is watching Church on television? Not me. I can't imagine a friend calling me up "Stevie are you watching the game?. No way man, Church is on. It's the season finale. I think Jesus is coming back this episode." I wonder what would happen to Church if Jesus did come back. It would be over wouldn't it? Isn't that what everyone is waiting for? The Church would be out of business. There wouldn't be much point after Jesus came back. "Hello Father Bob, no Church today? "Nope, Jesus is back, so I guess we are done here." Many believe if Jesus comes back, we are all done here. Who knows. Maybe he did come back, and they are hiding him. If Jesus came back he would put alot of people out of work. I am not here to be anti-religion so don't get mad at me. Jesus wouldn't be mad at me. I like Jesus. I've always been a fan. I'm alright with Jesus and Jesus is just alright with me. Oh yeah.

Daily Theme Song:
The Doobie Brothers - Jesus Is Just Alright http://youtu.be/s3aYJibxMOQ

This Land Is My Land

As I drove through my little town of Holbrook, Long Island I noticed a small median area about 12X4 in area with a small sign that said "Adopt A Median." So, I can own this little piece of land? How do I qualify for this adoption? Do I have to guarantee it a safe and happy home with two incomes and steady employment? I don't know. Of course if I did this I would immediately change the name from median to Stevie GB-ville or GB Town or something. I would load it up with signs and advertisements for my upcoming shows. I may even bring a lounge chair and just tan myself with one of those silver boards to catch the rays. Some sand, a beach ball to complete the mood. It's my land, I should be able to do whatever I want with it. Invite friends and family over. Not sure about the parking situation. But come on down to Stevie GB's Median. Bring an Entenmanns cake and maybe a bottle of wine. Let's chill right there. I kind of like the idea. I am calling right now. Stay tuned.

Daily Theme Song:

Woody Guthrie - This Land Your Land http://youtu.be/wxiMrvDbq3s

Sweet Lemonade

Some kids in my neighborhood set up a table to sell lemonade. Nothing exposes a kid to capitalism better than a lemonade stand. Many times in the past I have stopped to purchase a cup just to make the kids feel good. I don't even drink it. I do it for the fun of seeing the joy on the faces of these young entrepreneurs when they make a sale. However, on this day, no entrepreneurs were present. Nobody was minding the store. They were off playing in the distance while the sweet lemonade sits next to some paper cups. No signs with a price in sight. If I learned anything from watching The Apprentice its poor signage is a cardinal sin in business. This is obviously not a well run establishment. Nobody is buying and nobody seems to care that nobody is buying. The flies were buzzing around the pitcher. I slowed down and even came to a complete stop, expecting to hear the running and screaming of a few kids elated and anxious to sell. Nothing. Is capitalism dying? Is the entrepreneurial spirit dead on arrival? Finally, I got the attention of one of the kids. She came over and said "you want lemonade?" I said "sure I will have a cup." I got out of my car and as I walked over she said "It's a dollar." A dollar for a tiny Dixie cup, the size of a shot glass, of lemonade in a pitcher covered with flies? These kids weren't capitalists, they were Wall Street tycoons. For a dollar, I expected Gordon Gekko to pour me this shot of lemonade.  I swallowed my pride and took out my wallet. I said to the little girl "I only have a 5". She said. "I will go get change". When she went in the house, I got in my car and left. I may have destroyed her entrepreneurial spirit, but I have a sneaking suspicion she didn't care. And I got to keep the 4 singles that I had in my wallet.


Daily Theme Song:
Monster Movie - Sweet Lemonade http://youtu.be/yc9v4bynE1o

I Will Follow Him

Quite often, on my way to my destination I will encounter a large dump truck. There is an orange sign on the back that reads "Construction Vehicle Do Not Follow." Where are they going? Some covert operation we don't know about? I followed him one day. "Don't tell me what to do. This is a free country. If I want to follow you I will." I followed him. They are having a party. The construction workers are wearing those orange cones as hats. Of course, I wasn't invited. They just waved the orange flag and told me to keep it moving. They even had the truck with the big orange arrow. These guys are really fans of the color orange. It's kind of arrogant to state "do not follow." I think it should say "Please, we would advise you not to follow if you don't want your car pelted with sticks and rocks and dirt and large metal rods and 2 X 4's that we didn't tie down."

Daily Theme Song:
Little Peggy March - I Will Follow Him http://youtu.be/5JVhbusBDi4

The Inner Light

When I hit the big 50 I started thinking about exercise. I've never been a big fan of scheduling time each day to exercise. I joined a gym once, years ago, went a few times but found it smelly and uncomfortable. I bought a treadmill at a yard sale down the block. I actually pushed it to my house, about 500 feet away. That was the last time I used it. I took a Yoga class at the local elementary school. Went twice, pulled a stomach muscle and spent the next 6 weeks skipping class and going to the library across the street. I even tried meditation. Searching for that Inner Light I always hear about. I would play Enya music and just try to relax. I fell asleep. Not sure if that counts as meditating. Apparently you have to have a mantra. Something to blank your mind and keep you focused. What would a middle aged man's mantra be? Ommmm do not drive or operate heavy machinery ommmmmm if you had heart failure or experience diarrhea, constipation, swollen feet, burning during urination, hommmmmmmmm decreased sexual activity, suicidal thoughts, feelings of hopelessness, ohmmmmm  muscle aches, nausea, consult your doctor Om Mani Padme Hum (that's the name of my doctor.)

Daily Theme Song:
George Harrison - The Inner Light http://youtu.be/7oSuzEqHOcE

Memories Are Made Of This

It's hard to find a telephone poll without some kind of advertisement for a local yard sale, garage sale or tag sale. Bargain hunting hits a new low when you shop in somebody's driveway for their old garbage. I have gone to a few in search of something unique. I found some old LP records and a few odd buttons, but nothing that said "jackpot." One thing I have noticed at these yard sales is the abundance of children's toys for sale. It's like a Toys R Us graveyard. I went to one where a teenage girl, who apparently lived there, was actually playing with the toys for sale. This got me thinking. These are not old broken toys for sale. These are her memories. What I wouldn't give for my James Bond Attache case, Lincoln Logs, GI Joe or baseball card collection. I bet I had Honus Wagner in there. Maybe not, but it wouldn't matter if these items were jackpots at the local pawn shop. They would bring back memories of my childhood. Many times I have seen vintage candy and it brings me right back to running to the corner candy store in Brooklyn. Sylvia's was the name of it. Stopping to look at the toy cars in the display window on my way to buy wax lips and a Yoo-Hoo and a pack of L&M cigarettes for my Dad. Now those were the days and I would pay at least 2 bucks for any of those items if I could find them. Think about this as you are setting up your yard sale this weekend. Don't sell memories. Sell tools, fishing rods and guns. That's what most people are looking for at these things anyway.

Daily Theme Song:Dean Martin - Memories Are Made Of This http://youtu.be/mv9PSkNkUfs

Nobody's Fault But Mine

Over the last 6 years or so, I have been trying to figure out a way to become a full time comedian. Unfortunately, it's not a job that offers security or enough money to pay the mortgage, health insurance and eat. Hence, the day job continues for a few more years. I am fortunate to have a very good day job in a company close to home that is very nice to work for. I do a good job, in between writing blogs. Before you judge me too harshly, I write these in the off hours and schedule them to hit everyday. I am proud to say I am about 6 days ahead. However, working in an office for over 30 years of my life has forced me to become a little bitter towards the not so friendly environment. It's a constant search for someone to blame. Mistakes happen. We are not robots. Accepting responsibility for our mistakes is never easy. We look for someone or something to blame. The computer is a big one. Blaming co-workers is more common. I have been in countless meetings to search for the errors and it usually turns into a "who do we blame" session. I think we should issue a giant orange finger that is seen at Sports games (the Number One finger) and just point it at the culprit. It's YOUR fault. Then everyone gets to line up and slap that person in the face. These blame sessions never really focus on solving anything. All it really does is make a whole bunch of people feel better and one person feel really bad. I must admit that when I make a mistake I just come right out and say it. "It was me, I did it. I am sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I plead insanity. It will never happen again" It cuts out all the wasted time spent trying to get out of it. I find that when I come right out and say it, somehow I gain a bit of respect. I usually get a look that says "wow, he just admitted to it. I would never do that. Now it seems pointless to beat him senselessly." Of course that only lasts until the next mistake.

Daily Theme Song:
Led Zeppelin - Nobody's Fault But Mine http://youtu.be/hZibgdi7hXY

Suburban Homeboy

I am too old to be cool and too young to be old. I just don't fit in. I never really did, but I think a lot of people feel that way. In my mind I am still in my 20's or at least early 30's. I like to discover new music and fight the urge to become a cranky old complainer, bitching about how my music was better and these kids don't know good music. There is good new music out there, you have to dig for it. Gold must be mined. However, my struggle to be cool continues. I have a 27 year old daughter that says I repeat myself constantly. I have a 21 year old nephew who thinks I'm cool and we actually go to concerts together. He always wants me to hang out with him and his friends. I can't really hang out with him and his friends. It's just weird for me and even weirder for everyone else. I never hung around with anyone over 30 when I was 21. When I was 21 and found out Debby Harry, who I was madly and hopelessly in love with, was 32 I nearly vomited. I don't know anyone under 18 and don't want to. Men my age can't even make eye contact with that group without getting a visit from Chris Hanson from To Catch a Predator on Dateline.  you know him, the "what are you doing here" guy. I always wonder why those pedophiles that get caught never ask Chris Hanson the same question. "what am I doing here? I can ask you the same question Chris. What are YOU doing here? I only have a couple of wine coolers. You have a whole camera crew. Who's the pervert now, huh?" Why do I get the feeling I shouldn't be talking about this. I'm cool. I would never ever even think about doing anything close to that. I just want to be cool, like a homeboy. Know what I'm sayin? Bro?

Daily Theme Song:
Sparks - Suburban Homeboy http://youtu.be/CFP4aByUfxA

Pet Sounds

There is nothing like living in the suburbs with a big backyard but nothing makes it better than having pets. Maybe a dog or two, or a cat or three. My wife loves animals and we have collected a few pets of our own. I don't want to say how many or you might call Animal Control. It's not that bad. 3 small dogs, 2 cats, 4 guinea pigs, a rabbit and a finch. Before you judge me, keep in mind that  somewhere in Mastic there is a house with 37 dogs and 42 cats and it's only a matter of time before they end up on the news. It's always the same story. There is always some exotic animal included. "Tonight's news; A woman in Mastic was arrested today for hoarding animals. She had 47 dogs, 52 cats and an Emu". I always say "An Emu? how cool is that? How did she get an Emu? I want an Emu." I am not condoning keeping exotic pets or loads of pets. Many of these hoarders think they are doing the right thing for these animals but they really aren't. It's very sad that there are so many abused and unwanted animals. I can't go to the animal shelter. I am one of those guys who would come home with all of them. Our pets are part of the family. So, if you have pets, treat them like you would your own family. Abuse them emotionally, criticize everything they do and hold grudges until they die.

Daily Theme Song:

 The Beach Boys - Pet Sounds http://youtu.be/NQo8MrOeAv0



Focus

People tend to be oblivious to others lately. We think it's rudeness or lack of courtesy for our fellow humans, but it's this fog we are all in. We are just focused on ourselves and not others around us.  I was on line at Subway getting lunch yesterday and there were 12 people in front of me. I noticed 10 of them attached to  their phones. I am thinking about becoming a chiropractor to treat all the people with wretched necks from staring down at their cell phones for 20 years. The subway sandwich artist (yes, that is actually what they call them) had to say "can I help you" three times before the person stopped  texting to give him the order. This guy went back to texting and was actually getting annoyed every time the "artist" interrupted him to ask what condiments he wanted. A work of art was being created right before his very eyes and he didn't care. He also didn't care that his lack of attention to the matter at hand was causing me to get increasingly aggravated. I also notice when I am leaving a parking lot and I let people walk in front of me they just casually take their time crossing. When someone lets me go I wave thank you and actually run to get to the sidewalk. I must be an idiot. I would like to think I am polite and considerate and appreciative of the person...whoops..hold on...I just got a text...

Daily Theme Song:
Focus - Hocus Pocus http://youtu.be/NGaVUApDVuY

My Old School

A couple of years ago I saw in the local newspaper that the East Islip High School graduating class  of 1975 was having their 35 year reunion. I thought these things were celebrated in rounder numbers. I know there was a 10, 20, and 25, but 35? I have not been to any of these reunions. First of all, it was $110 per person. And B, I have no desire to see people I hardly remember anyway. Any high school friends I hung around with are either dead, in prison, or I have located on Facebook. That's the great thing about Facebook. you find people you haven't spoken to in years. The bad thing about Facebook is you find people you haven't spoken to in years. "Oh crap, I remember you, you're an asshole. Now I have to start the whole process of getting rid of you all over again." I didn't do so well with the ladies in high school. I'm not sure I want to relive that whole cesspool of rejection. Young people are much better looking now than the crop of fuglies I grew up with. I looked at my high school yearbook recently. The best looking girl in the school looked like Neil Young. I caught up with her on Facebook. People change. Now she looks like David Crosby. I barely passed in high school so I passed on the reunion and I will pass on the next one too. Probably the East Islip High School reunion of 37 years, 6 weeks and 5 days.

Daily Theme Song:
Steely Dan - My Old School http://youtu.be/4ZZTojpxW0k

Life of Illusion

It's Wednesday. Hump Day. A phrase that comes from Wednesday being the middle of the week, nothing sexual. Unless you work in the porn industry. For them, every day is hump day. Times are rough. Many people are unemployed. I will not get political today as I tend to switch sides on this issue. However, there is a large group of people who don't get counted in the statistics of the unemployed. These are the people who are working for less money than they made in years, or working less hours in a job they are overqualified for. Some stats call them underemployed. The unemployed call them "lucky to be working." I can understand everybody's frustration. I have been on both sides of the situation and they both stink. The problem is we all want to live in a nice house in a good neighborhood. We want our kids to go to the best school district. We want nice cars and manicured lawns and big tent parties to celebrate little Timmy's confirmation. We want to have more than our parents and their parents had so we can say "see? I did good." We want I-Phones and I-Pads and to be able to feel secure enough to walk into the boss at that job we hate and say I-Quit. But we can't. We have to keep up the expectations that others put on us. Nobody wants to lower their expectations or their status, so we lie to everyone. We buy things we can't afford so nobody will know we are struggling. The pressure to keep up with the Joneses is not as big as the pressure to pretend we are keeping up with the Joneses. Living a life of illusion. No sense in complaining. We would be complaining to people who are in the same sinking boat as us, or the ones who wish they were in the same sinking boat. The worse part is, it's high tide and there is no lifeguard on duty. His job was cut last week.

Daily Theme Song:
Joe Walsh - Life Of Illusion http://youtu.be/_tiOMu_Bf8Q

Carnival

Summer is the season of celebration in the suburbs. We have festivals, fairs, feasts, and carnivals. Why so many different names? What constitutes a feast vs. a carnival? There is a hierarchy to these things. The Feast is at the top. and it's usually connected to a nationality. The Italian Feast, The Greek Feast, The Polish Fair (huh?). Of course, being a feast, the emphasis is on food. Although I rarely see authentic food at these so-called feasts. It's usually the typical trailers selling Cotton Candy,  Zeppoles and mountains of sausage and peppers (burp). The Festival could also be food related. The Strawberry Festival is quite a big one, The Apple Festival. Or it's seasonal like The Fall Festival, Spring Festival. When they use the month they tend to shorten it to "Fest" like Oktoberfest. In Riverhead, the Polish Oktoberfest takes place in August (huh?). Very often, fairs are named for the towns. The Islip Street Fair, the Sayville summer fair, The Riverhead street fair. If it's not a town, it's the ever popular, yet completely useless Craft Fair. Then there is the lowly carnivals. You will find those cropping up everywhere. Parking lots of the local flea markets and malls. These consist of broken rides and broken people. They overcharge for rigged carnival games. I never play those games. Something about a guy with three teeth telling me to "try my luck" bothers me.

Daily Theme Song:
The Band - Life is A Carnival : http://youtu.be/Io9tYdvrFgk

    

I've Got A Bike

Inspired by the Olympics and looking ahead to turning double nickels (55), I decided to take my bike out of the garage, dust it off, and start riding it. I go out just about every night and make the trip around my contained housing development. No traffic to worry about. However, last night, I felt the urge to take it to the next level. A new frontier. The great wide open. The main road. I rode about three blocks in the designated bike lane. Now if you are not familiar with this concept, it's a special lane for bike riders. It even has a little drawing of a stick figure riding a bike in the lane so you and the drivers know where the bikes belong. However the drivers in my area don't seem to pay much attention to the bike lane.  Many think it's just a pre-entry into the turning lane. In the short three block journey, I almost got killed four times. It seems this so called designated bike lane is there for drivers to take aim at the cyclists. All I kept thinking was, next to one of these drawings of a stick figure riding a bike, will be a chalk outline of me, next to a chalk outline of my broken bicycle. Tonight, I will return to riding around in the confinement of my neighborhood and forget exploring the outside world for now. I may not be thrilled about hitting double nickels, but I would like to see two quarters, a nickel and a penny.

Daily Theme Song:
Pink Floyd - Bike http://youtu.be/SmW17QvUhRM

A Jolly Happy Soul

I listen to a lot of rap music. not by choice. Usually I am sitting in my living room chair and all of a sudden my testicles are vibrating. I jump to the window to see where it's coming from and suddenly it's gone. A passing car filled with teenagers were the likely culprits. I have noticed them next to me on the road with the music blaring from top of the line speaker systems. They never seem to be getting into the music. They are usually just sitting there expressionless. I am in my car with my factory stereo speakers blasting The Who and doing windmills, ala Townshend in my car. I would love to get the biggest speaker I can find and attach it to my car. Forget the car. I would just drive around in a giant speaker. I would pull up next to one of these kids and just outblast him. Not The Who this time. I would choose something like Perry Como's version of  Frosty The Snowman and get really into it while the kid in the car next to me feels his testicles vibrate to the sound of thumpety thump thump. That would make me a jolly happy soul.

Daily Theme Song:

Perry Como - Frosty The Snowman:http://youtu.be/5nAFXXIE7Q0

Here Comes The Weekend

Summer weekends in the suburbs are supposed to be filled with fun in the sun. Baseball, barbecues, and driving to the beach in your Chevrolet. Unless you are a home owner. Then it's clean out the shed or the garage and going to Home Depot and Lowes to beat the crowd for the sale on fertilizer. I don't care how cheap it gets, I refuse to stand on line before the place opens to get the first bag of manuer. Mowing, trimming, pruning, rototilling, thatching. These words have replaced running, skipping and jumping in my weekend vocabulary. But how can I complain? I am living the dream. Owning a home in the suburbs. The American dream. They didn't tell us it was a nightmare. My wife is famous for ending every sentence "after this, we are done." She lies. We are never done. I can't wait to sell this house and move to some over 55 community for "active" adults. That's the new term for old age home. I will throw away my rakes and trimmer and snow shovels and buy a rocking chair. I will sit on my little 2 X 6 front porch alloted to me by the gated community facist regime and fall asleep in the sun. Probably wake up with a sunburn on half of my face but I won't care. I will gladly wait on line for the sale on Calamine lotion. Now that is MY American dream.

Daily Theme Song:
Dave Edmunds - Here Comes The Weekend http://youtu.be/CQKpyoztJn4

Hey There Little Insect

Having a backyard filled with trees is something I enjoy. I love to sit outside on summer mornings and listen to the birds. One major hazard is on many of these mornings, I walk out my back door and right into a spider web. I hope none of my neighbors are looking out their window. I must look like I am having some kind of seizure, or perhaps practicing my morning Karate lesson. We are all familiar with the gyrations that come from the removal of a spider web. It's an awful experience for us. One morning, I thought about the poor spider who probably spent most of the evening constructing the perfect web in hopes to find an abundance of flies for breakfast, only to find it destroyed. Imagine his anger. That would piss me off. Of course, Mrs. spider probably gives him a hard time. "Why did you put it right at the doorway? what did you think would happen?" I feel the same way when I see ant hills. I just brush them away with my foot. Days of work destroyed. Armies of ants regrouping, redesigning, going back to their little ant colonies to inform the troops that all their work has been reduced to dust. Tallying up the death toll. Little pictures of ant family members hanging on colony walls. "Have you seen my husband? we haven't seen him since the giant shoe. We will never forget 2:37pm." They must hate us humans.

Daily Theme Song:
Jonathan Richman - Hey There Little Insect: http://youtu.be/lkyZGrHbLpM

Lost In The Supermarket

As I was roaming around my local Stop & Shop I couldn't help but notice they sell patio furniture. There was a full sized table, four chairs, and an umbrella, next to the firewood and beer. In all my years spending way too much time in a supermarket, I have never seen anyone buy a patio set. How would you fit it in the wagon? I imagine you would have to contact one of the managers, whose headshots appear on the wall of fame, to help you bring it to your car. Why do they need a headshot for the managers anyway. Do these folks actually go to a professional photographer and get 8X10's made up? "Yes, I am the produce manager at Waldbaums. I would like a photo session which includes 25 poses and 3 changes of clothes." If I had to do that I would be as creative as possible. Maybe wear a head of lettuce as a hat? or just sitting in a pile of Rutabaga, Parsnips and Radicchio. If I was the head of the meat department I couldn't resist hanging meat all over me, replicating The Beatles famous butchered babies album cover (I wish I had that). If I was the store manager of King Kullen, I would wear a crown and maybe a kingly robe. Why the hell not? I say if you have a job that requires a name tag why be depressed. Make it interesting.

Daily Theme Song:

The Clash - Lost In The Supermarket http://youtu.be/qsrEAWcAvRg

I Can't Drive 55

You cannot survive in the suburbs without a car. Mass transportation is inconvenient. Trains are unreliable and bus stops look like hangouts for drug dealers and prostitutes. I have never been in one of those little bus stop cubicles but I am pretty sure they smell like urine. So I have no choice but to drive everywhere. Unfortunately, I have road rage. Not on a level where I would actually hurt someone, but I do use foul language. I get so angry I wish there were new words to express my rage. The famous seven just don't do it. I need more. I am trying out new ones and have become partial to "suckfardge" and "ballface."

Some of my most common beefs are people in front of me driving too slow, making right turns like they are driving through molasses. MOVE !!! The biggest one is leaving too much space in front of you when stopped at a red light and I am trying to get into the turning lane. Tighten it up people.  I should be able to fit the width of a pubic hair in between your bumper and the guy in front of you. 

Occasionally, I feel bad about my fits of anger so I make it up by being courteous. Letting someone in from a side street, or a parking lot. I expect the wave and I usually get it. When I don't, they get a "ballface suckfardge." One thing I do notice is my courtesy begins and ends at one driver. If the guy behind him tries to sneak in I turn on him. "HEY, one at a time here." Then I don't look at him while I am blocking him in. Another thing that just burns me up is when I am pulling onto my street and there are two cars blocking the entire street and having what appears to be a conversation. I wait the appropriate 2.7 seconds before the heat gets to my face. It's bad enough I have to drive around kids playing Basketball and the damn Hockey nets. MOVE !!! you...JACKHOLE (I like that one too).

Daily Theme Song:
Sammy Hagar - I Can't Drive 55: http://youtu.be/RvV3nn_de2k

I Still Miss Someone

There was a report in today's local PATCH of a 72 year old man, with dementia, who has been missing from the Holbrook area since Sunday. As I read the article I realized he was the father of someone who actually lives two doors away from me. Apparently he was visiting from Florida and drove off in his pick up and has not returned. Why a man with dementia is driving, I don't know. Did he drive from Florida with dementia? No idea. I just hope they find the man. The sad part about this story is I had no idea until I read it. It shows how much I don't know about my neighbors. The old days of going next door to borrow a cup of sugar are long over, but you would think someone would have knocked on my door to say "have you seen my father?" It made me realize that we all live in our own little cocoons, oblivious to the outside world. I hope they find this man because if he is just driving around aimlessly he may never figure out how to get back. If his own daughter isn't asking neighbors for help, how will adjoining neighborhoods know where he belongs. I hope I never go missing. It's bad enough suffocating in suburbia. Lost in suburbia appears to be a much worse fate. In the meantime, if you are in the Holbrook area and you actually leave your house. Look around for this man and return him to 91 Somerset Drive, Holbrook. Tell them to put a bell on him.

 

Reprinted from Sachem Patch - July 31, 2012:

A 72-year-old man from Florida went missing Sunday after leaving his daughter's Holbrook home, police said.

A Silver Alert has been issued for Abel Mingola, who suffers from dementia. Mingola, who was on Long Island visiting family, left his daughter’s residence on Somerset Drive in Holbrook at 6 a.m. Sunday. At the time he left the home, he was driving a 2008 grey Mitsubishi pick-up truck, with a Florida license plate number 828LTU, police said.

Mingola is described as white, 6-foot-1, 190 pounds with brown eyes and gray hair. Anyone with information on his location is requested to contact the Fugitive/Missing Persons Section at 631-852-6040.

The Silver Alert is a program implemented in Suffolk County that allows local law enforcement to share information with media outlets about individuals with special needs who have gone missing.

Daily Theme Song:
Johnny Cash - I Still Miss Someone : http://youtu.be/dkgsgAsKtLs

Get Outta Here With That Boom Boom Boom

It's July 30th 2012. It's steamy and sweaty. There is not much to do except sweat. I have a hot tub in my backyard, but I don't go in unless it's over 100 degrees outside and the water is 99 degrees. Even then, I shiver when I get out. I have a scrawny body that is intolerant of any cold air, even at 102 degrees.

At night I like to go inside and watch the most boring show I could find on TV, simply to fall asleep.

This does not seem to be easy this summer. For some reason, people in my neighborhood have obtained an abundance of fireworks this year. Was there a sale? Do these people have so much money they can afford to just blow it up? Every night since around June 28th, I have heard fireworks. Not the usual whistle types or occassional pop. I am talking about boomers. I am sitting there when all of a sudden. BOOM. like a freaking cannon went off. I jump. My dogs jump.

My dogs hate thunder and fireworks. Unfortunately, this summer has been filled with both. They shake and cry and try to dig holes in the carpet. I can't comfort them. They finally calm down and then BOOM, another one. Sons of bitches.

What is the purpose of a giant explosion. There are no pretty lights. These are just M-80's or something. Now I am no longer 7 years old, so it doesn't thrill me anymore. Now it just annoys the crap out of me. I was never a huge fan of fireworks. To me it's like the ocean. Repetitive and I get it but after about three seconds, it's boring.

I wish these people would stick one of those M-80's up their asses. That I would watch.

What can I do about this? Call the cops? I don't want to be one of those people. I understand this may be fun for people. They invite over their stupid friends and family to witness these obnoxious noises while they drink martinis. But where is the courtesy for the neighbors? What if I liked public urination as much as they liked fireworks. I can't go over there and pee on their mailbox. They would call a cop and I would get arrested. I can see it now. They throw me in a squad car to the sound of BOOM in the background.

Daily Theme Song:
Phil Harris - The Thing:  http://youtu.be/FWPx-fw0mI8