You have got to be kidding about these names of places to go.

Are the people of Buffalo buff? Do they work out?

Where do the people of Cedar Rapids run and are they wet when they trot?

When the people of Paris get drunk are the plastered in Paris?

Do the people in Intercourse, Penn. Have to show their marriage license?

Do the people of Deadman’s Ranch in Alaska the location of the Zombies and where they originated from?

Is there something in the town of Nothing, Arizona?

Is Greenacres, California, the place to be?

Is it legal to be stoned in Stoner, Colorado?

Fluffy Landing is in Florida. I wonder if Fluffy lives there. He is a comedian on television.

Would you stay at a hotel in Roachtown, Illinois? I get itchy just thinking about it? You think the beds may have bedbugs?

Are there females in Manly, Iowa?

There is a Beaverlick in Kentucky, no comment.

There is a Suckerville, in Maine and of course there is a Sucker born every minute. The population must be out of control.

These are actual towns and cities. There is a ton more but too much of this gets one obese.

A love poem.

It was a night alone, for my girlfriend and I fought on the phone,

She had a bug up her behind and I did not like her voice tone.

She accused me of a wandering eye and that maybe I was the wrong guy,

I hung up on her with a snap of my wrist, another relationship gone bye bye.

So I took a shower to wash off the powder of rejection and loneliness,

I am really a good guy and treat my women well, how did I fail the test?

In the shower I sang the rejection songs at the top of my voice,

I sang loud and my noise became ragged and coarse.

Then I toweled off and of course went out to the bar to score,

But who was there with a bunch of guys around her, I could have fallen to the floor.

She looked so fine, she was mine and I felt a decree of regret,

And then my eyes saw her eyes looking and it is just like… when we first met.

She came over and we did not talk, we said not one thing to each other,

We walked out of the bar hand in hand, our hearts aflutter.

That was ten years ago and from that night we have a product of love,

Our child is ten years old now, a gift meant to be, from heaven above.

Diego and Maria, two frightened children from the south.

A Story of Compassion

We had been married a couple of years. My father-in-law, Alfred, was an exporter to South and Central America. He was usually on the road for six to eight months a year. He spoke not only Spanish, but the Spanish of each country. There are some differences. Idioms used in one country might not be used in another country right next door.

It was the 1970’s. Nicaragua was in turmoil. Alfred had good friends there.

It was the morning that I got the call. I had married Alfred’s daughter and we owned a house in Tamarac, Florida. We had two children at that time, Sam age 12 and Beth age 9. Alfred called at nine in the morning to ask me a question. “Considering the problem in Nicaragua would we consider taking in two children to save them from harm?” I asked Alice and then called back. There was no way that we could say no. When I told Alfred that he informed me that they were already on the plane and we had an hour to get to the airport to pick them up. I guess he already figured we would say yes.

We got to the airport and picked up our visitors. Maria was eleven and Diego was eight. They spoke only a couple of words of English. We were to have their company for just a couple of weeks that summer. My wife, Alice, fortunately speaks enough Spanish to communicate with these two frightened children. My Spanish consists of maybe a hundred words. The house now had four children.

It was the summer and I was working a job as a recreation teacher at a summer camp. I asked special permission to bring to the camp not only my kids but our visitors. Since I was a good friend of the director I got it. Kids are kids. Maria and Diego quickly learned enough English to communicate. The kids at the park accepted them into their midst pretty nicely.

Two interesting points to note. I am not trying to make any inferences just noting the facts. When Maria and Diego got off the plane they had no baggage. Unfortunately this was one of the last planes to get out of the airport and it must have been rushed. We needed to buy them clothes. It was the summer and money was tight. So I took them to Walmart to get the clothes. Now it was three weeks into the summer and they needed more outfits. They had gone to camp for two weeks and had friends their ages who now influenced them. I said okay going back to Walmart. Maria was upset and I asked her what troubled her. It appears that the children at the recreation facility had conveyed that Walmart was not modern enough. She asked if we could go to The Gap instead. I explained I would get them three outfits at Walmart or two at the Gap. Both children preferred two instead of three as long as the labels read The Gap. That is how much influence and fitting in meant to Maria and Diego.

Finally after five weeks we got word from Nicaragua that we could send the children back. That was a long time ago and we no longer have contact with them. Just hope they did well. It was an interesting experience for us and our children. I figure to chalk it up to humanity and what good was done will one day come back to us triple times.

Whenever I get annoyed by my wife I remember…

My wife annoys me when she says I cannot drink soda,

It has sugar, aerated water and is not good for you.

My wife is annoying when she condemns sandwiches with meat,

They are filled with nitrates, fillers, and other poisons that are not good for you.

My wife is annoying when she made me quite smoking my pipe,

You have asthma and you need to stop bringing crap into your lungs.

My wife is extremely annoying when she made me give up cheese,

I use to love the stuff but she says it has too much cholesterol and salt.

My wife annoys me by making me take walks and doing some exercises,

The body needs to be stretched and you need you need to work on circulation.

Because of my wife I probably will live longer.

Her annoying is because she loves me and wants me around.

For that reason she can be annoying as she wants.

And I thank her.

Coincidences at Blogging

Sometimes there is a coincidence waiting to happen,

It is like that melody in your brain that makes your fingers tapping,

But it is hidden and yet in plain view, others see it but not me,

The connections in life are all around us in many complex patterns,

Connecting them is like playing a game of Shutes and Ladders.

One day I blogged about a student who passed away in an auto accident so long ago,

His sister commented back and we shared a moment of a boy lost, his life lost a horrible blow.

I have been read by the book girl on Pawn Stars, she gave me a read,

I have touched a few lives and have in some planted a growing seed.

Today I got blogged by a man out west who came to LEGOLAND in Florida, he was attracted by my sound.

He saw me as a ride operator at the Grand Carousel and singing as the ride went around.

So the connection was made when he blogged me when he got home,

Made my day and so another connection, a stab in the dark, was sown.

If you ask me why I blog and write like a man obsessed,

I would answer because it makes me happy, like an A on a test.

So of it is fluff, I grant you that fact,

And some is stuff I need to get off my back.

But I leave the computer with a smile on my face,

A man blogging away making my fingers snap at a fast pace.

Hope you enjoy and this brings smiles around the earth,

It makes me happy and gives my spirits a berth.

The Bills We Pay

I have a Monkey on my Back.

The monkey is there, I know it is there and I do not know what to do,

I tried for quite a while to get it off, but now I’m in a funk, a muddled stew.

Maybe it is the bills or that I still spend money like a drunken sailor,

I am constantly bombarded by the sales, coupons and the mailers.

Yet, what is concerning me on a daily basis is the influx of bills,

I pay them in order of priority and believe there is little for frills.

I have got to pay the rent and the car bill and gas is a top must,

Water bill, electric bill and phones are enough to make a budget bust.

Then there are the credit cards, I have never had the guts to count them all,

I have got to make a memo to myself that I must never, never go to the mall.

Food is the last thing on the list and we coupon ourselves on Sunday,

We get through the week with enough goodies to last till the next Monday.

Going to a movie or a restaurant has gone by the wayside even as a treat,

First of all are the necessary bills and then the emergencies that we must meet.

And so it goes week after week, month after month and year after year,

But now the rat race stops, I’m a gov’t employee there is nothing else to fear.

I am furloughed now thank you Congress, with no money coming in to pay the majority of my bills,

So goodbye house, goodbye car, and shut the electric for I’m going to live with my buddies in Beverly Hills.

Life.

It was an ordinary life, filled with ennui and awesome moments,

A life of ups and downs of rejections, thrills, victories and atonements.

Went through my youth and did not get spattered by life,

There was a lot of confusion and but all in all not much strife.

 

Met the woman of my dreams and she consented to be my bride,

I manned up and decided it was time and then for a second I wanted to hide.

But I went through with the wedding and am I glad I did that,

It was fun and exciting and magical like pulling a rabbit out of a hat.

 

Kids came along in the usual way, and we counted to three,

Children are not easy to raise but my wife was the mainstay, the golfers tee.

They grew up fast and went in directions that made us proud,

They are unique, all parents say that, they stand out above the crowd.

 

And we now, retired to a decree in a home safe from the fire,

Our lives are completed and but our hopes have not expired.

Peace on earth was a favorite pass word of long ago,

But the pace to this race is tedious and we have a long way to go.

 

Maybe in the future the world will be fit and complete,

All in all our lives have been wonderful, compact and neat.

May all of you out there have the blessing we have had?

A moment of reflection from this old man, a proud man and Dad.

 

Big John, a bully in my life

Nothing is worse than entering a new school. Especially if it is middle school. My parents had gotten divorced and split my brother up. I would live with one parent while my brother lived with the other. We would switch every six months. That meant that every six months I went to a new school. Added to that mix my divorced parents moved a lot so I never went to the same school twice.

 

 

It was the end of my seventh grade and just after Christmas when I moved in with my father in Dover, New Jersey. The new school was named Roxbury Junior School. My first day in the preclasses was what I expected it to be. The teacher who got me was non plus. She assigned me to the back of the room for there were no other seats available. Anyway with my last name starting with W. I was use to sitting in the back. This room had two seater tables. I was assigned to the left seat. To my right was this huge boy. He must have been over six feet tall. Not overweight but thick like he should be playing football. He was not happy to share his table and glared at me. Then I noticed he was staring at my brown bag. It contained my lunch.

 

I lived with my dad at this time. All his interest and work went into his business. I was an inconvenience. At home he avoided me and I stayed mainly in my room avoiding contact with him. The refrigerator had a space for my lunches which I prepared before going to school. There was Bologna and American yellow cheese. The bread was always the same, two slices of Wonder. I was allowed to take two slices of cheese and two slices of Bologna and make my lunch. Pluck this into a brown bag and look forward to 12:00 for lunch.

 

My table partner spoke to me in a voice that sent shivers down my spine. “What did you bring me for lunch?” It was not a threat, oh yes it was. The implication was I would give him my brown bag or else. “It is not much. I hope you enjoy it.” I replied thinking maybe I should report this and then realized that this galoot would win by his sheer size. Better to give in and think this over.

 

Fortunately this kid, Big John was not in any of my other classes. But by the end of the week it was obvious that he took my lunch and the chocolate milk from a bunch of other wimps. Added to this mix was at least six cookies and he was fed. I on the other hand went hungry for the day. By the next week I needed to come up with a plan.

 

The refrigerator at my house had a small space for me and the rest for my father. Most of the time we ate out for supper. Every night was the same. My father ordered a hamburger, French fries and a coke for me.   For himself he had a steak, French fries and a soda. It was so like clockwork that the waitress had the order in before we had even sat down. The food in the refrigerator was for lunch. In my area was bologna and cheese (Munster) and wonder bread. The bread was in the refrigerator because we had a roach problem in the apartment. On my father’s side was all sorts of goodies. I was prohibited from taking his food. Mostly I did not like it anyway. He tended to like hot stuff. He had hot peppers in a bowl because he liked to flavor his lunch with them.

 

I decided to purloin some hot peppers and put them hidden under the cheese on my sandwich. I had booby-trapped the sandwich. Hopefully Big John would not like the heat. Monday morning I hopped the school bus with my lunch bag with the hot sandwich in it. As I suspected Big John took the bag as soon as I plopped it on my desk. I did not say a word.

 

Big John’s lunch time was at eleven thirty in the morning. I was in Science class. At eleven thirty- two we heard a major uproar from the cafeteria. From what I heard later Big John did not take the hot

Peppers well. He ran with his mouth on fire to the water fountain. Unfortunately a football player of immense proportions was taking gulping down water and had his mouth on the fountain. With pain searing through his mouth Big John tried to toss the football player to the side. In doing so he chipped the kids tooth on the side of the spigot. The football player was now in pain and angry. He responded by punching Big John in the head with his mouth on the spigot. Big John came up his mouth bleeding and a beautiful fight ensued. The result were both boys suspended. Big John was judged the aggressor and was moved to another school. I was free. I could now enjoy my bologna and cheese sandwiches with no reprisals.

The Extraordinary Runner

Mavis Hutchison (born 24 November 1924) is a South African athlete

She became famous as the first woman to run across the United States, from Los Angeles to New York City. Her route, run in 1978 as a 53-year-old grandmother, took her 2871 miles and 69 days, 2hours and 40 minutes. This record was not broken until 1993, when Lorna Michael (age 34) crossed the continent in 64 days as part of the Trans-America Footrace in 1993.

Mavis Hutchinson, 53, became the first woman to run across America. The 3,000-mile trek took her 69 days. She ran an average of 45 miles each day.

 

For all you couch potatoes. A grandmother puts us to shame. I am not a runner, in fact the only thing that I have run is the runs.

But my hats off to this lady. Note this was 1978 and Mavis is not in the kitchen with Dinah, she is not birthing the babies, and she is not barefooting. She is a runner. And at fifty three a tough bird. Sixty nine days of running. Damn over three months. Forty five miles per day. This is incredible.

Now get off your behinds and move. Run around the block, run for your life or run for a position. Just do it. To follow my own advice I will be running to the bathroom.

 

Love with a Stamp

A Little insight on me.

 

A Love Story with a Stamp

A long time ago when I was single and living in an apartment in Brooklyn I had a roommate. His girlfriend told me of a young lady who lived on Miami Beach who needed to be cheered up because she had just broken up with someone. Would I write her a note to brighten her up?

So I did. A couple of days later I got a letter back. At the bottom was a memo which asked me to write again. So I did. Later that week I got another letter and the rest you can figure out. Since I was running out of ideas of what to write about, I brought the project to my first period seventh grade class who helped me write the letters of the next few weeks.

The kids in the class got a big kick out of the project and since I was teaching English it fit in with the curriculum. It also made the students feel some empathy which I guess was a good thing.

After numerous letters, back and forth, Alice decided that I was okay and invited me to meet her on my Christmas vacation. So I did. We hit it off and when I returned during my Easter vacation I proposed. We got married.

Three kids later and two grandchildren turned out because of the United States mail system. But then again stamps were cheaper. Would I do it all over again? You betcha.

A side note. My wife was born in Brooklyn Jewish Hospital, Sept. 15, 1945. I was born in the same hospital on Dec. 17th. The same year. I think the same maternity room and maybe the same crib. Held by the same nurse and birthed by the same Doctor. Were we meant for each other? I think so.