Rant #2,437: Sweet Caroline' Put a Little Love In Your Heart with Sugar Sugar and a Boy Named Sue Was Among the Honky Tonk Women

Nothing new to report about me. I felt bloated a good portion of yesterday, but now that that feeling is gone, I am still awaiting test results, and with the holiday weekend before us--for some of us, at least--I don't expect to find out what is up with me until Tuesday.

So let's move on from talk of sickness to talk of something a bit more fun.

Let's go back to 1969, 50 years ago.

I was 12 years old, did not know a kidney stone from a Rolling Stone, and seemingly, did not have a care in the world.

And what was I listening to on the radio? Probably these hits, for the week of August 30, 1969, exactly 50 years ago.

Coming in at No. 10 on the Billboard Hot 100 for this week 50 years ago was "Crystal Blue Persuasion" by Tommy James and the Shondells. James and his band were one of the few acts to successfully move from AM radio hitmaker to FM radio darling, and this was one of the tunes that helped them do it.

Bob Dylan's "Lay Lady Lay" was at No. 9. The song was supposed to be on the "Midnight Cowboy" soundtrack, but was delivered too late for its inclusion, but it stands as one of Dylan's biggest radio hits.

A former No. 1 song, Zager and Evans' "In the Year 2525," turned up at No. 8 for this week, with one of Creedence Clearwater Revival's numerous hits during this period, "Green River," coming in at No. 7. They would have numerous two-sided hits over the next few years.

The Youngbloods' "Get Together" was the sixth most popular song of the week. If the Monkees' success did not convince you that TV exposure was a way to sell records, then this song had to do the trick. It was released some time earlier, stiffed big time, but when it was included in a popular public service announcement that was seen across the country, it finally hit.

Neil Diamond's "Sweet Caroline" hit at No. 5 on this week's chart. The song has since been used as a rallying cry at Boston Red Sox games, kind of odd since the song--supposedly about then 12 year old Caroline Kennedy--was written by Diamond, a native of Brooklyn, New York.

Like Diamond, songwriter Jackie DeShannon was also an accomplished singer, and she had one of her biggest hits with "Put a Little Love In Your Heart," which charted at No. 4 this week.

When Don Kirshner was dismissed by the Monkees, he decided that he would helm another group as its musical director, but since he didn't want any talk back this time, the group was a fictional one in cartoon form that also used television to promote its records. The Archies' "Sugar Sugar" was the biggest hit of Kirshner's long career, charting this week at No. 3 but eventually getting to No. 1, where it would eventually spend a month at the top spot.

Johnny Cash's novelty gender-bending hit "A Boy Named Sue" was at No. 2 this week, and this live recording was the biggest hit of his long career.

And at No. 1 this week, one of the aforementioned Rolling Stones' biggest records of all time--

"Honky Tonk Women," which would eventually spend a month in the top spot, upending "In the Year 2525" and then being upended itself by "Sugar Sugar."

The highest debut record, at No. 63 on this week's chart, was "What's the Use of Breaking Up" by chart veteran Jerry Butler. The tune would eventually reach the No. 20 on the Hot 100, one of his many hits which he continued to have into the 1970s.

The chart's biggest mover, the song that jumped the most places from last week to this week, was Marvin Gaye's "That's the Way Love Is," another Motown hit for the singer. The song would eventually reach the No. 7 spot on the charts.

So there you have it, what I was listening to 50 years ago, and what you were probably listening to too.

Have a great weekend, and I will speak to you on Monday ... yes, on Labor Day.

You see, I am one of those people who labor on Labor Day.

Lucky me!

Classic Rant #1,084 (November 14, 2013): A Dozen Things You Did Not Know About Me

I will admit right at the get go that I got this idea from some posts on Facebook that I have read, and have liked.

Evidently, there is a small wave of posts going around listing facts about the people you have "friended" that you didn't know about.

Not that you know every little tidbit about every person that you "friend," but it is interesting what I have been reading about these people.

So I decided to extend this little game over here.

Since I have been doing this blog, my regular blog visitors have gotten to know me a bit, but you can't possibly know everything about me.

So here are 12 things that you did not know about me, with explanations where applicable:

1) According to my mother, I was born about two weeks after my actual due date: I guess I liked where I was and didn't want to leave.

2) My paternal grandfather and my father had a Kosher butcher store on Delancey Street in Manhattan, but there were no plans for me to continue running that store when I became an adult: Mayor Lindsay planned to put a highway through the store, and it closed around 1966 after many years in business. The highway was never built, and the empty lot stands today.

3) I was the first child of my parents, first grandchild of my grandparents, the first in my family to go to college, the first to graduate, not the first to marry (my sister was), but the first to divorce, and the first to remarry (very happily): Someone has to be the first, and I was it.

4) I went to high school with the likes of Jerry Seinfeld, Brian Setzer, Jessica Hahn, Joey Buttafuoco, and several other people who became notable as adults: I didn't know any of them very well, but I did walk the same halls as they did at Massapequa High School. And Alec Baldwin's dad was my driver's ed teacher. Six degrees of separation ...

5) My aunt Suzanne, who went under the name Suzanne Parrish, was an actress, and appeared on the night time soap "The Doctors." My cousin, Dr. Donnica Moore, is on TV all the time, giving medical advice on a number of shows: Six degrees of separation again, although I am quite friendly with my aunt, who I see several times each year. She is a remarkable woman, been through a lot but is strong as can be in her own way. I don't really know my cousin, only to say that she is my cousin.

6) I am the father of two, a boy and a girl, and I am the godparent of one: It's my sister's middle boy, who is a good kid who is finding his way in school right now. He was a wrestler in high school, and I had visions of him becoming the next big star in the WWE, but alas, he was injured and it ain't gonna happen. My kids are just normal kids who are growing up real fast.

7) I am 5 feet, 9 inches in height. I was barely 5 feet during my bar mitzvah, but right after having my big day in May 1970, I grew to my current height and never grew another inch in stature: I remember that during June of that year, my mother had to rush out to buy clothes for me, as I had sprouted up so quickly that I didn't have anything in my wardrobe that I could wear.

8) I met my wife through a dating service: Yes, before all the Internet dating services, there was your standard boy meets girl services, and after my first marriage, I felt I needed some help in finding the right girl, and I joined something called Together. After a few dates that they set up, where the girls were nice but I didn't really see anything happening, they paired me with the girl who eventually became my wife. Funny, I worked around the corner from her for a while, and never met her or saw her. Funny how things work out.

9) I was supposed to be in a movie,  a contestant on a TV game show and on a reality show, but never was in any of these things: Many years ago, as a teenage, I was one of many people who won a contest to be in the remake of "King Kong." I was supposed to be in the crowd scene by the World Trade Center, and one of the extras to crowd around the felled big ape. My parents were away on vacation, and since the shooting was overnight, my grandmother, who was watching my sister and I when my parents were away, refused to let me go. Some years later, I took a test to be a contestant on the then brand new Travel Channel's game show "The Travel Game." The show was canceled after just a few episodes--maybe like five of them--and I never got my chance to show my travel expertise. And very recently, I was supposed to be the subject of a show produced by Marlo Thomas of "That Girl" fame. The show was about conquering fears, and I have a fear of riding roller coasters. Anyway, the kibosh was put on that one when Hurricane Sandy struck, and I haven't heard from her production company in a year, so I assume the show is dead.

10) I hate chicken: My father was what they called "a chicken butcher" way back when, and since my grandfather was also part of the business, I have chicken in my blood, but I have always hated chicken. I don't like the smell or the taste, no matter how it is prepared. Everyone in my family loves chicken, so I am like the black sheep ... err, chicken of my clan.

11) I am the only person, reportedly, to have been present in Yankee Stadium to see both Mickey Mantle's 500th homerun and Alex Rodriguez's 500th homerun: I was there in 1967, and then years later when ARod hit his homer. I got coverage from Newsday, but I think it has been pulled offline because it happened several years ago. But several other national newspapers picked up the story, and I was a celebrity for my 15 minutes.

12) I can spin a basketball on my finger and I can make noises by clasping my hands together: As a kid, I was sick with one thing or another, got bored, and taught myself to spin a basketball on my finger. Also, as a kid, I discovered that I could make these noises with my hands, which came in handy as a kid, but not so much now. I can't do either as well as I did them way back when, but every once in a while, I can whip each of these talents out and amaze people with them.

There are probably many other facts that I could tell you, but these are the 12 that came to mind.

I hope you enjoyed this little peak into my world, but as they say, eight is enough, 10 is too much and 11 and 12 ... well, just be happy I didn't make extend this even further.

Rant #2,436: Oh, Babe, What Would You Say?

Well, I will tell you what I am going to say over the next couple of minutes or so of you reading this blog from top to bottom.

I had my sonogram yesterday, and everything went pretty well.

I really had not trouble at all drinking the 24 ozs. of water that I had to drink before getting this test done.

I literally downed the first bottle at work, and then as I left, I developed a plan to drink the remaining 6 ozs. or so that I need to gulp down.

As I drove home, at every light I hit, I took a swig of water, so by the time I got to the place to have this done, I had probably swallowed even more water than I really needed to drink.

I did feel a little bloated, but it was, as they say, "a mere bag of shells."

I was taken into the room to do the test, and the nurse asked me if I had to go to the bathroom, and I told her that I didn't feel the need just yet.

She said that she couldn't do the test unless my bladder was full, but she said she would begin the test, "and you will probably fill your bladder in the middle of it."

Which is exactly what happened.

Looking on the monitor, she told me, "You have a good bladder. I can literally see it filling up on the screen. Good!"

I then went to the bathroom, and then came back for some additional parts of this procedure, and then I was done.

The photo you see here is not my sonogram, but one where the person who had it done did have a stone that had to come out. Hopefully, I won't have to go through that. Did it once years ago, and I certainly don't want to go through that ever again.

I was home probably about 45 minutes earlier than I would normally return home, ate dinner, and then turned on the TV--

Where, during a New York Yankees road game against the Seattle Mariners that was held during the day, I promptly saw Aaron Judge bury one in the stands for another home run.

He is on a tear, the Yankees are, too, and as for me, I hope I can get this stone and/or infection torn out of me soon.

I feel pretty good, although I still feel bloated right now, probably from all the water I drank yesterday. I also had seltzer in the morning, so between the morning and afternoon, I probably had a told of what amounts to about two bottles of water yesterday spread out over a nearly full day of work, which is a lot for me.

And no soda until the evening, so I really irrigated myself yesterday.

The next step is to get the tests back and see what is actually happening inside of me.

The nurse said my doctor should call me during the next two or three business days, which means I might not learn about what is ailing me until Tuesday, since Monday is Labor Day and is a holiday for most of us (not me, but that is another Rant, not just yet).

So that is where everything stands now.

I feel OK, but as I said, a little bloated. I still have to take my pills for like eight more days, but other than that, I am doing OK.

So, babe, that's what I said.

Hopefully, I can move on from this and not have to worry about it really soon.

Classic Rant #1,083 (November 13, 2013): "Ups and Downs"

We all go through ups and downs during our lifetime.

Some years are good, some are bad, and some are in between.

And that brings me to this song that I have in my record collection, from a band that has for years received undeserved status as a corporate tool of the burgeoning rock and roll scene in the 1960s.

Paul Revere and the Raiders were a hit-making machine during that decade, but they actually started out in the late 1950s as a Northwestern boogie woogie rock band.

Their first hit, "Like Long Hair," is the epitome of what they were doing then, a tune that owed as much to Jerry Lee Lewis as it did to Elvis, Little Richard and Chuck Berry, the guys who were putting this new music on the map, with all others riding their coattails.

Dick Clark, who had his pulse on this scene as host of the then-Philadelphia based "American Bandstand," saw all the trends, and his show rode each and every one.

Things had gotten stale musically in the early 1960s. Yes, there were great songs and artists during the era, but the time was right for something even newer to take over the scene.

Enter the Beatles.

Once the Beatles hit, music changed forever, as did styles, and Clark saw what was happening right on his very show.

The Bobby Vintons and Freddie Cannons, although still popular, were being replaced by long-haired groups that had a different sound than what was happening just a year earlier.

Clark wanted to tap into that even beyond what he was doing on "Bandstand," and that, in a nutshell, was what helped him create "Where the Action Is," a Monday-Friday showcase for what was new in rock and roll.

Steve Alaimo--a talented singer, but one who kind of teetered between the Avalon-type crooner and a new rocker--was the original host, but even on the first few episodes, it was clear who the real stars of the show were.

Paul Revere and the Raiders, with their Revolutionary War get-up and charismatic lead singer Mark Lindsay, stole that show from under Alaimo, and Clark knew he had something by featuring them over his original choice for host.

And he did.

For the length of that series, they were not only the "house band," but the stars of the show, and they became huge stars on the recording scene, with many hits during that period, including "Kicks," "Hungry," and "Good Thing."

Their popularity on the show most certainly paved the way for the creation of The Monkees, as constant time on TV hit it off with younger viewers, who wanted everything that they heard on "Action." That scheme was certainly used in the creation of the Pre-Fab Four.

By 1967, the five day a week grind was showing, and "Where the Action Is" would soon fade from view, but the Raiders continued to have hits.

"Ups and Downs" was one of them.

Although a pretty minor hit at the time, only reaching #22 on the Hot 100, it was typical of the Raiders' output at that time: catchy, with a great hook, and great lead vocal by Lindsay.

The Raiders had so many hits at that time that they were able to have a "Greatest Hits" album, and the song was included on the compilation just as it was fading from view.

And yes, I do think that people like Jann Wenner, soon to be publisher of Rolling Stone magazine, looked at the Raiders, and later the Monkees, as corporate creations, two acts that allowed bigger corporations to get into the rock and roll game, robbing the music of its spontaneity.

And I think he still thinks that way today.

Anyway, when the show went off, and "Ups and Downs" trailed into the sunset, Clark still saw huge potential in the Raiders, and they starred in his "Bandstand" companion "Happening" shows for a few years, which aired on Saturday afternoon just after "Bandstand"--now in California--ended.

The hits kept on coming, including "Him or Me, What's It Gonna Be" and "Let Me," but the Raiders--that was their shortened name then--hit it the biggest in 1971, without Clark, with "Indian Reservation."

They pretty much faded from view by the mid 1970s, although Paul Revere has continued with the Raiders as a popular show band and Lindsay, who had his own solo career highlighted by "Arizona," has pursued an interesting solo recording/performing career.

But back to "Ups and Downs"--I always liked the song, and even though it was high on the charts, you never hear it on oldies radio.

It's a shame, because although minor, it is a really good song.

Listen to it, and let me know what you think.

Rant #2,435: King of Pain

Well, I was sick yesterday, and I am still sick, although the final conclusions about what I have aren't in yet.

What I have is either a kidney stone or an infection, one or the other--or both.

I went to the doctor yesterday afternoon after a morning where I do believe I really was sick with fever, but it was quieted with two aspirin.

I managed to make it through the first part of the workday, and at lunch time, I went to the doctor.

He did the usual tests, asked me about my problem, took a urine sample, and found that there was a trace amount of blood in the urine.

He than sent me on an odyssey of getting blood work and sonogram tests to determine exactly what is ailing me.

The blood test was done one, two, three, but the other test posed a problem. I wanted it to get it done right then and there, but there is some prep involved, namely that you have to drink 24 ounces of water in about an hour to 90 minutes and be able to hold it in while the sonogram is performed.

I had the water on me in my bag, but they could not fit me in on that day, even for a late appointment, so I had to take one today, in the middle of the day.

I hate to drink water, but I do drink water when I am at work, or at least seltzer. No seltzer this time; I have to drink water.

The only water I can stomach is ice cold water, so I froze up some bottles, and by 4:15--when I am going to leave work to get this done--I will be drunk on water, get this thing done, and then wait for the results from the doctor.

Nobody hopes for an infection, but in this case, I am hoping for that over a stone. I have had a stone in the past, and it can be the most painful thing anybody can go through. It was for me, until I passed it--at work, believe it or not.

The doctor also gave me a prescription for a pill to combat this if it is an infection. It is a horse pill, so to speak, but let me tell you, I had the best sleep I have had in several days last night, so if nothing else, it helped my sleep. I have to take this twice a day for 10 days, and the next time I take it will be around 6:30 a.m.

So let's see what happens; I can tell you that I feel much better today than yesterday at this time, so the jury is out as to what I have.

Now, on to the next pain in my (based on my condition, I will let you fill that in):

The newspapers that we get were delivered water free yesterday, double bagged as I have asked them to be, protected from the water sprouted out by the sprinkler.

What happened is that I complained again on Monday about the paper not being double bagged, and the operator went through the same machinations as he/she has been doing for weeks, and I once again got credit for the newspaper for that day.

As I had asked last week, I wanted to speak to the district manager, and I finally did on Monday morning.

He said that the problem was that these deliverers pay for their own bags, and thus, when they have to use an extra bag, it costs them money, so they hesitate using them except in extreme conditions.

Look, this is all baloney, you know it as well as I do; do you want to deliver a wet newspaper where you are going to get complaints, or do you want to deliver a perfectly readable newspaper? I would think that the choice is obvious, but I guess it isn't.

Look, when I delivered the New York Times and The New York Post during the mid-1990s, admittedly, we did not pay for our bags.

But even if we did, if the customer requested their delivery to be double bagged, I did it, and plenty of customers asked for their newspaper to be delivered this way.

Remember, the customer is always right, even when they are wrong.

The district manager told me he would talk with the carrier--who he claimed was the best one that he had, and compared to our previous deliverer, who half the time didn't deliver the newspaper, he was a virtual Newspaper Deliverer Hall of Famer--and that if I had any further complaints, to contact him directly at the number that I called to get him this time.

OK, I am satisfied for now, but as I told him, the next time the newspapers are wet--and there will be a next time--he would hear from me. I thanked him and that was that.

This is an interesting time for me. I have both a real pain in my body and an exterior pain, both of which aren't going away anytime soon.

Wish me luck as I deal with both at the same time.

Heck, I really don't know at times which is worse.

Classic Rant #1,082 (November 12, 2013): Weighty Matter

Uh oh!

Is this a precursor to how nasty people get around holiday time?

I went food shopping right after work on Friday evening, because I had a busy weekend and thought I could get this out of the way quicker on Friday than on Saturday.

I do the shopping, and come out to my car. A woman is standing at the car on the right of my car, leaning on her trunk.

As I opened my trunk to put the groceries in, she says to me, "I have been waiting for you for at least 10 minutes," as I turn to her with probably a big question mark on my face.

She then says to me, "You parked too close to my car and I can't get into it."

I checked my car, and I was parked pretty much in the middle of my spot.

I said to her, "I don't know, but let me do what I have to do and I'll pull out and everything will be fine," or something to that extent.

As I hurriedly put the groceries in the trunk, she is going on and on and on about how I parked too close to her car. I told her to just give me a few minutes, and I would be done.

Then she hit the bull's-eye. Evidently, I was not putting the groceries in fast enough for her liking, and she says to me, "Hurry up ... you are holding me up."

I stopped what I was doing and looked at her and said, "I am holding YOU up? How do you figure that I am holding you up?

When I finally took a look at her, I knew why.

She was in her 40s or early 50s, and maybe 5 feet tall, but she must have weighed 400 pounds! Her stomach was so large it was drooping to the floor, and that is why she was leaning against the hood like she was.

And by the way, she did not appear to be sick or out of breath when she was attacking me.

I said to her, "Look, I am putting the groceries in the car as fast as I can. Why can't you go into your car on the passenger's side?" since there was no car parked next to her on that side.

She replied, "I can't, and you are holding me up!"

I absolutely hate people like this. They blame their own failings on others, and quite frankly, I was in the center of the spot, but her bulk would force her to open up the door to her car fully to get in, and even at that, she would have to nudge herself in, as she didn't have a large car, more of a normal size sedan.

I probably shouldn't have done it, but she made me so angry by constantly repeating the "you're holding me up" refrain that I said to her:

"Maybe if you lost some weight you would be able to fit into your car."

I finished and drove off, shaking my head to make sure that I wasn't dreaming this entire episode.

And yes, she probably should lose some weight. You can't expect people to bow down to your every wish like this one if you are about 275 pounds overweight.

I might be sorry I said what I did, but I said it, and yes, I should have shut up, but her constant attacks on me reached a point that I had had enough.

Is this what we're looking forward to as the holidays approach, this type of attitude that we are all due something from everyone?

I hate it, I just hate it!

Rant #2,434: Rockin' Pneumonia and the Boogie Woogie Flu

I don't know what I got, but I got something. It may as well be the rockin' pneumonia and the boogie woogie flu.

For the past few weeks, I have felt completely off, off and on.

I have felt like I wasn't 100 percent, that my entire body was off, but it wasn't a constant thing, just here and there, and I could go about my daily duties, whether it was to go to work or to do food shopping, or staying home and doing nothing.

Then, this past Saturday, something really weird happened.

My family and I went out to the Veterans Home at Stony Brook, Long Island, to see my father in law. My wife's two brothers and their spouses were also there, as well as my nephew and his wife, who came later.

They have a nice area where you can sit outside, and since it was a beautiful day, we decided to sit outside with my father in law. It was pretty busy outside, with many of the residents taking in the sun, but we found that the gazebo they have there was empty, so we decided to crowd into that structure.

Well, I honestly don't know what I did to myself, but I sat down, and all of a sudden, my back was killing me, as if a knife had plunged into my lower back on the left side of my body.

I have to tell you, the pain was so intense that I could not sit, and I had to walk around a bit because I literally could not sit.

I went to the bathroom, drank some water, and took two Advil that my wife had, and within about an hour, I felt much better, although I still felt a twinge in my back.

On Sunday, we didn't really do anything, but my sleep was terrible that night, so I took a nap in the afternoon for about two hours.

Then yesterday, for the first time in weeks, I felt 100 percent like myself again. I had energy, I felt fine, and I thought I had kicked this thing, whatever I had for the past few weeks.

To backtrack, on Saturday morning I went to get my allergy shots, and I brought up my "offness" with the doctor there, and we both agreed that due to the on again, off again weather we have been experiencing, and the accompanying massive rains we have had, a lot of people with bad allergies have suffered the past few weeks.

Compound this with my vacation, when we went to Florida and Georgia and experienced the same type of weather, and it appears that my body has been put through a vice lately.

Now, fast forward to today ...

I slept pretty well until about 2 a.m., and when I woke up, i felt completely off, I did what I had to do in the bathroom, but I still felt off as I dressed for work.

I still feel that way now, but much worse than before.

I am sweating, my back and other places hurt, and I am a real mess today.

I guess I better try to get a doctor's appointment and see what the deal is here.

Funny, I don't feel the "classic" sick, but I don't feel right.

Wish me well. I just hate being sick.

I don't think it is the rockin' pneumonia and the boogie woogie flu, but heck, you never know.

Classic Rant #1,081 (November 11, 2013): Birthday Aftermath

Everything went well on my wife's birthday.

She received her gifts--actually her other gifts--because I had already given her jacket to her earlier on.

Her family came over, and we went out to eat at a local fish restaurant.

My family only goes there on special occasions, because it is kind of pricey.

And yes, it was yesterday, but it was worth it, because the food was quite good.

Then we all came back to the house, and we had my parents over, too, and we had cake, and cake, and more cake.

I had so much to eat that it weighed me down to the point that I didn't make 8 p.m. last night, and neither did my wife.

We both fell asleep probably at about 7:30, but she got up to record "The Walking Dead," and then went right back to sleep.

So now, officially, at least on the surface, my wife is one year older than me.

Actually, she really isn't, just five and a half months older than me, but she was born in the year prior to the year I was born in, so, when somebody asks us how old we are, she is, in fact, older than me.

I remind her of that all the time, and yes, I get a nice look when I do that.

But she is young at heart, works out, makes sure what she eats is the right thing, and watches herself like a hawk.

Now, our month of celebrations continues ...

We have Thanksgiving and the first full day of Hanukkah on the same day, and we have my father's birthday right there too.

Yes, today is Veterans Day, where we celebrate all of our veterans of all of our conflicts, and during peacetime, for their bravery in protecting us, and I will celebrate today at work, writing about these very people.

And today, I honor my dad, who was in the Marines during the Korean War. My father in law was also a Marine during the period, and more recently, my brother in law was in the Navy.

But anyway, another happy birthday salute to my wife, my Rock of Girbraltar, the love of my life.

I may have just gotten her a winter jacket, but heck, she is worth at least all the winter jackets in the world to me ...

And so much more.

Rant #2,433: Press

Today, the media is scrutinized for not only delivering us the news, but also fabricating their reporting. Thus, the term "fake news" is often used, and yes, there is something to it when the media puts their own slant on news stories where they should be just reporting the news in a straightforward way, without opinions thrown into the mix and reported as news.

That is not what I am going to talk about here, but at the present time, I am waging a personal war against the news, namely, the local Long Island Newsday.

In the general frame of things, this is not such an important story, but it hits close to home for me.

We get two newspapers delivered on a daily basis to my home, one Newsday for my parents--who live with us, or we with them, however you want to slice it--and one Newsday for my family.

We have had that arrangement for decades, and except for intermittent problems, like a newspaper not delivered from time to time--we really have not had any major problems with this arrangement we have had.

But lately, we are having some problems, and it has to do with our carrier, or carriers. We are not sure if it is more than one person delivering our newspaper, or just one.

But it is immaterial to the problem that we are having.

The delivery person absolutely refuses to double bag our newspaper, and for weeks on end, we were getting a soaking wet newspaper, as he also seems to find every puddle that there is and throws it right in the puddle.

Look, this just doesn't happen on rainy days. We have the sprinkler on two or three early mornings a week so our lawn looks nice, and thus, there is water strewn across our driveway, and the deliverer, again, finds every puddle that there is and throws the newspaper into it.

The water seeps into the newspaper because it is not double bagged as it should be, one bag into the other in reverse, to make a less penetratable package.

So a few weeks ago, after getting newspapers that looked like they took out morning shower with us, we complained, and asked Newsday if the deliverer could please double bag the newspapers.

Simple request, simple solution ... or so we thought.

For the past few weeks, the carrier absolutely refuses to double bag the newspapers. He does it maybe once a week--on a clear day without any sprinkler on--but on days when it is wet outside, naturally or with the sprinkler on, he refuses to double bag the newspaper.

And of course, he throws the paper directly into a major puddle in our driveway, making the paper ever more gnarly.

We have complained almost every day for the last few weeks at least, and we have gotten credits on the newspaper, meaning we do not have to pay for that day's newspaper.

In fact, I keep on telling the operator handling our case that if this continues, I expect to get a bill for $0 soon, because we aren't paying for any newspapers with the credits we are getting.

I would rather pay for a dry paper. Reading the newspaper in the morning is a vanishing bit of pleasure in a world where you can get your news--and your newspaper--digitally, but there is nothing like reading a real newspaper each morning.

And look, the carrier is dealing with the wrong person if he continues to deliver wet newspapers to us.

As some of you know, there was a period in my life, as an adult, where I, myself, was a delivery person, of the New York Times and New York Post, back in the 1990s.

Look, I did not like double bagging the newspapers, either, in particular the Sunday New York Times, which, as you know, can be pretty bulky.

But when the customer wanted a double bagged newspaper, they got that from me, through my grumbles.

I honestly don't remember if I double bagged the newspaper at the depot or I had extra bags and double bagged them in the car as I was delivering them, but when a customer wanted a double bagged newspaper--or had other delivery requests, including putting the paper in the mailbox or behind a screen door--I would do it, because the customer wanted it.

I have told the operators handling our little problems that I was once a delivery person myself, I know what a pain it is to double bag papers, but I also tell them if the request was made, I would do it, without question.

Our delivery person--because of spite or laziness or whatever--refuses to do it.

The person handling our problem has told us that the delivery people are not employees of Newsday, so there is a limited amount of things that they can do to rectify the problem from their perch. Pretty much the only thing they can do is to tell the district supervisor about the problem, but so far, the district supervisor does not seem very interested in making the delivery person realize that if he does not do as we are asked, he will be fired for insubordination.

No, it has not come to that, but it may in the near future.

All we want is a dry newspaper. Heck, the newspapers have been so wet, so saturated with water, that it takes them more than a day to dry, and an old, dry newspaper is worthless to me.

Bring me a dry newspaper, or bring me death!

No, it has not come to that, but am I asking for so much?

Classic Rant #1,080 (November 8, 2013): My Wife

It is only November 8, but I figure that it is not too early to wish my better half a happy birthday. She will celebrate the day this Sunday, November 10.

I won't tell you her age, but I will tell you that if you looked at her, you would never think that she is that old ... or really, that young.

She takes care of herself, she is in the gym at least three or four times a week making sure that she is in tone, and she looks darn good.

She works, she is my wife, the mother to our son, and she runs our household.

I love her for all of that, and more, because she is very good at handling all of that, balancing what happens outside of the house with what happens inside of it.

Sure, she has her days when all she wants to do is come home and go to sleep, like we all do, but she generally does a fine job making sure that everything is right.

Believe me, I am very lucky to have her as my wife. Sometimes, I almost have to pinch myself to see if I am really awake, that this is all happening, that I am really married to this person.

I really hit the jackpot with this woman, and I do feel that I am maybe the luckiest person alive.

We have now been married for more than 20 years, and it has really gone by in a flash.

When we met, she knew that this was going to turn into something, and I admit that I didn't, but during a real bad time in my life--I was out of work for what eventually became a year and a half--she stuck by me like glue.

I will always remember that.

But anyway, more than 20 years later, she is still the person I married way back when, a woman who I believe is the greatest lady on the planet.

I know I have gotten a bit soppy here, but that being said, here's to my wife, who I love dearly, two days before her birthday, and may she have many, many more.

And for the record, I bought her a winter jacket, and some other more trivial things.

I wish I could give her the world, but I guess the jacket will do.

Rant #2,432: Birthday

Twenty-four years ago today, I became a father for the second time, as my son was born.

As with every birth, the parents don't know what they are in for, and in this case, my wife--a first time mother--and me--a second time father--really were going into unchartered waters, at least for us.

My first child was a daughter, and sons and daughters are just so different, from the moment they are born and as they grow into adults.

I remember that at a little after 12 midnight, his time had come, and when it came, after I cut the umbilical chord and he and his mom had had time to meet each other face to face, I was able to hold him for the first time.

He was tiny--much smaller than my daughter was--but he was a real bundle of joy.

I was so happy that I had a son after having a daughter--no, we did not want to know beforehand, although we kind of knew anyway--that I took my son out of the room he came into this world in, and I was so happy that I did not even realize that I did this.

When the nurse saw me carry this newborn and walk around the hospital floor, she blurted, "Get that G-d kid back into that room!" and it was only then that I realized what I had done.

As our son grew up, we noticed that he was growing into his own personality--he was determined, stubborn and would never stop trying as a little baby, in particular when he wanted to turn over from being on his back, which he never could do no matter how hard he tried.

As he grew into a toddler, we saw that he would grunt, and not speak. He was a good grunter, and also a very good sleeper. He gave us so little trouble as a baby and toddler with sleep that we knew we were blessed with an extraordinary kid. He would wake up to take his bottle as if he had a little alarm clock in him, and once he took his overnight bottle, he would stare directly at the TV--at that time, the local ABC outlet showed reruns of "Gomer Pyle" at that early hour--and then both he and I--I had just come home from my short-term job as an adult newspaper deliverer so I often gave him his early bottle--would both fall asleep.

Then as he got older, he went to nursery school, and we were told by teachers that we should have him checked out. He stayed away from most of the kids in his class, didn't communicate well, and maybe these were warning signs for something else.

We had him tested, and the results were in: they could find no cognitive reason why our son was the way he was. His brain scans were normal, his hearing was normal, his eyesight was normal, everything was where it should be.

And other than being very shy, there was no reason that they could put their finger on as to why our son was like he was, and to this day, we do not know why he is the way he is. He remains very shy, does not blend well with others, and he does not absorb anything without repetition.

He does not have autism. Early on he was labeled as having ADD and ADHG, but he, in all likelihood, hasn't had either one, based on more recent tests he has undergone.

He is a classic case of someone simply being the way they are, and although we have tried, we have come to the realization that this is the way he is.

He could not be pigeonholed in school, so I don't really know what he learned during his entire time in the public schools here. Funny, he was an early reader--like my daughter, he began reading at three years old--but he could not absorb anything he was reading.

To this day, he cannot take a test, even though this forever special education student was forced through New York State's idiotic Common Core program to take the state regents tests several times. Incredibly, he got the same score on each one that he took: 38. How this benefitted him educationally is beyond me.

So he moved through the education system, as the education system will do with someone that they do not know what to do with. He worked hard, graduated high school, and was left with no paths to follow, as no agency that he belonged to could help him find a job.

Even more extraordinary, he had gotten jobs on his own, had worked for a few camps since he was 15 years of age in non-paying and paying capacities, but wherever we went for help, there was none to be had--including at BOCES, which boasts about how they can place skilled workers in jobs at a high rate, but is an organization which both cannot and refuses to help people like our son to find work.

So he found his work on his own, with the hard work of myself, my wife and some outside groups which we did research on.

He has had two regular jobs after high school, and the one he is in now he has been with for about the past four months. These are part time positions, and we hope in the future that they can become full time jobs, making him even more self sufficient.

The current job he got through a stroke of ingenuity and a stroke of luck all mixed into one, and while I won't go into it here, an act of kindness can go a long way.

So, this person--who the educational and medical systems had no idea what to do with and/or could not diagnose--has now been working pretty steadily since he was 15 years old, defying all the odds, or at least the odds that society has put before him.

Yes, he is on medicine to help him focus a bit more. He has been on and off medicine since he was a young kid, but maybe now we have found just the right medicine for him.

Look, he slips up every once in a while, doing things that cannot be explained. He often lacks common sense, and a sense of self.

But he is on the right road now. He has defied all odds--I don't even want to get into what a supposed school-recommended psychologist had to say about him early on--and is becoming a responsible adult.

My wife and I are so proud of him, where he started, the roads that he has taken, and where he is now.

We truly believe the sky is the limit for this guy. He is smart, resilient, and if given the chance, can easily prove that he is a really good person.

Sometimes society has its own definition of smart, and our son does not fit into that definition at all. But the one thing I have learned since he was born is that there are different definitions of being smart and what that word really means, and it is not a cookie cutter meaning that one can use to define what being smart is.

He is really smart in his own way, whether society can handle that or not.

He is a great guy, and my wife and I are crazy about our son.

We think he is a great guy, an evolving person who is only going to get better with time and experience.

So happy 24th birthday to our son (the guy in the middle of the photo, with his glasses on), the love of our lives.

He has opened our eyes about so many things, and we can't wait to see what the future brings him.

Have a great weekend, and we will speak again on Monday.

Classic Rant #1,079 (November 7, 2013): Film Anniversaries

While I was busy starring in my own 30-second TV show, two film anniversaries came upon us, and even though I am late on one of them, I figured it would be nice to review them now.

November 6 was the 44th anniversary of the premiere of "Head," the Monkees' one and only film.

It was 1969, the band was past its prime, but then it came out with this movie, one of the strangest, yet most fantastic, films I have ever seen.

The film has no plot, but it has many plots, but what it all adds up to is that this is the movie that killed the hand that fed many, many people from 1966 through 1969, and that was the Pre-Fab Four, the group that was actually the largest-selling recording act during 1967's so-called "Summer of Love," the group that every rock critic worth his or her salt hated back then ...

But seemingly those same people, if they are still around, love now.

I won't go too deep into "Head," because I have done it before in this column; suffice it to say that if you think that the movie is simply a 90-minute version of the TV show, boy, are you in for a surprise!

And if you hated the Monkees' recorded output, you will enjoy music in the movie. It is way different than anything they ever did, and really is superb.

Both film and music hold up to this day, and sure, the film flopped when it came out, but now, the film has been reexamined, and everyone appears to  love the film, and the fans always loved it, so take it for what it is: a film that mirrored its time that you can still watch today.

Another film for the ages celebrates an even greater anniversary today.

Today, November 7, is the 50th anniversary of the premiere of "It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World," the topsy-turvy, star-studded movie to end all movies that made its debut on this day in 1963.

Again, I have spoken about this film here many times, so I won't go too deep into it, but suffice it to say that if you were a star, or a quasi-star, back then in Hollywood, you were probably in this film.

Basically, the film chronicles the ways and means that a group of strangers go about finding hidden loot that they learn about while attending to an old, dying man who was on the same road as they were.

That, in itself, is not funny, but left in the hands of director Stanley Kramer, with a cast that included everyone from Ethel Merman to Jonathan Winters to Mickey Rooney to Dick Shawn to Spencer Tracy to about 100 other big stars, the movie had to be funny, and boy, was it ever!

I was lucky enough to see the full version of this film in a movie theater in Queens, New York that I honestly can't remember the name of.

There were several versions of the film, because movie houses, fearing the length of the movie and the possible lost revenue from showing it less times than a normal film, demanded that there be varying lengths to the movie, so there were about three or four different versions of the film that was shown way back when.

I know I saw the full version--which is now lost--because I distinctly remember seeing the full Three Stooges sketch, where they were firemen, and they try to put out a fire to comic results.

You can get a video of the film today, but it is the shorter version--still good, but not the full one.

Anyway, if you are down in the dumps, this is the film to see.

These are, obviously, two of my favorite films of all-time, and that is why I figured that I would speak about them on their anniversaries.

If just one of you sees either or both films for the first time because of what I have written, I will consider this column well worth it.

If not, it was fun to write, but not as much fun as seeing each of these movies was to me when I was a mere lad.

Rant #2,431: Hats Off To Larry

I really love my name.

"Larry" is a great, All-American name, and to me at least, it is better than Tom, Dick or Harry.

It is a variation on "Lawrence," of course, also my name and a name that I never really liked.

You call me "Larry," and you immediately get my attention.

You call me "Lawrence," well, you might get my attention, but I simply won't respond with the same verve as if you called me "Larry."

People with the name of Larry--and again, it is "Larry," not the female variation of "Lari" that I only know to exist because a past Playboy centerfold had that name--have to stick together, so I thought I would report on some people named "Larry" who are in the news.

So today, the blog will be subtitled :The Tale of Three Larrys,"

One is commentator Larry King, who we just found out is very unlucky in marriage, as he has just filed for a divorce from his seventh wife after 22 years of marriage.

This has been a rocky marriage to begin with, and it is not the first time the 85 year old King has filed from divorce from this particular wife, who is about 30 years younger than him.

And once again, it has to do with infidelity, as this time as with the last time, King has accused her of sleeping around, having affairs and doing things that you don't do if you are married.

I mean c'mon Larry, what did you expect? This is a prime reason why an altacocka like King should never marry someone who is a fraction of that person's age. I mean, when they were married, he was 63, she was in her late 20s or early 30s.

Maybe she thought he would leave her a lot of money once he left this earth, but through numerous health scares, King proved that he wasn't going anywhere soon. Heck, they even tied the knot while he was in a hospital room, just a few days before King was to have surgery to clear a clogged blood vessel. I wonder that when he came out of surgery, she thought, "Darn!" and figured that she would wait the whole thing out.

I mean, they did have two kids in the interim, but the term "golddigger" might apply to this woman, and to King, well, he was certainly looking for love in all the wrong places.

To go over his marriage history would be a waste of space, but he did marry one of his divorced wives twice. When will he ever learn?

Now we have a very different story involving another Larry.

Larry Bird was undoubtedly one of the greatest basketball players of all time. His period with the Boston Celtics brought him stardom, the team championships, and he became one of the most recognizable people on the planet for a time.

And he did it all without brandishing not a single tattoo on his body.

Sure, he had scars and cuts and bumps like we all have, but no tattoos.

That is why the Indiana native was repulsed when he found out a street artist had put up a mural of him in Indiana but included tattoos all over his body, including on his face.

Upon hearing of this and actually seeing the mural, he politely asked the street artist to remove the tattoos. He said that it is not him, not who he is, and he would like them to be removed.

The street artist replied that this was simply her interpretation of him, and that it would be difficult to keep the essence of the painting if she removed all the tattoos.

Bird was adamant. Yes, 95 percent of all NBA players today have tattoos, but they were less prominent back when he played than they are today, in the NBA and in society, He wanted them removed, and even got his lawyers involved.

Well, they finally came to a compromise, and one tattoo will remain: a large Indiana on his left forearm, and the street artist's tag will also be moved from Bird's body, but will be elsewhere on the mural.

Again, millennials have no sense of history, want to change it all to suit themselves, but when it hits someone of the stature of Larry Bird, and he demands that the changes made to his body be removed, I guess people listen.

I guess also that compromise is a good tool, too, something we should all recognize.

Now we have the third Larry of this piece, which is me.

I told you yesterday that I was having trouble with one of those ancestry companies, which could not get a clear DNA reading from my saliva, not once, but twice.

They finally contacted me about my problem, and gave me some tips to give them saliva that will work. I have not yet received my latest kit in the mail, but when I do, I will follow their recommendations to the letter, and see what happens.

Funny, I could have sworn that I followed their recommendations before, but whatever the case, I am willing to give it a third shot--but it that does not work, I told them flat out that I wanted my money back.

They did not respond to that, but let's hope it doesn't come to that.

So there you have it.

Larrys are good people, but we often get into circumstance that are somewhat beyond out control.

Hopefully, Larry King, Larry Bird and I will work out these problems, and move on.

So yes, "Hat's Off To Larry," and hopefully, these things will all work themselves out.

And don't call me Lawrence.

Classic Rant #1,028 (November 6, 2013): Smile, You're On Candid Camera!

Well, not quite, but it will probably be the closest I ever came to being on such a show.

Yesterday, after I voted and as I was exiting the polling place, I had a microphone and camera thrust before me, and I was asked about who I voted for.

No, not "Candid Camera." Alan Funt didn't care about politics; he cared about laughs.

This was the local cable TV news station, News 12, that was in the hallway of the school that I voted in, and they wanted to get the voting opinions of the populace.

I was only too happy to oblige, mainly because it surprised me that they were there.

I got to the polling place a little after 6 a.m., as I always do, so I can vote early and then go to work.

I did what I had to do, and was in the place no more than five or six minutes.

News 12 probably got there around the same time, and set up as I was voting.

I was totally unaware that they were there until I left.

Unlike "Candid Camera"--where the cameras were hidden so as to catch unsuspecting people doing very funny things--the camera I saw was out in front of me, in plain sight.

This very young, tall, overly bleached blond reporter stuck the microphone in front of me, her cameraman taped me, and I did what she and he wanted me to do.

I did give them my opinion.

And yes, I did make the morning news.

I don't have News 12, as that is a Cablevision enterprise, and I have both Dish Network and Verizon on my home televisions (another story for another time).

So while I couldn't watch my little segment at home, I could watch it via streaming video on the Web, and that is just what I did.

I saw myself on the computer at work, and yes, it is always a little unsettling to see yourself--and hear yourself--like that.

But once I got over the initial shock, I think I did pretty well, taken unawares as I was.

As such outlets do, News 12 reruns the same thing for two or three hours, and then they post new reports. I was on the 7 a.m., 8 a.m., 9 a.m. and 10 a.m. news feeds, and then, I vanished from the airwaves.

But I had time to tell the world through Facebook, alert my wife and mom and sister, and show my co-workers my very less than 15 minutes of fame.

It felt good while it lasted, I guess, but I can't give you an address to see my appearance, because on News 12, once it's gone, it's gone.

I had nobody to record it at home, so my appearance was as fleeting as Tiny Tim's career.

Well, at least I was a TV star for a brief moment.

It was fun while it lasted, I guess.

Rant #2,430: Here Comes the Sun

I read a lot of newspapers during the day, or I at least glance at many newspapers over the course of the day.

First and foremost is Newsday, our local Long Island newspaper, which is the only game in town if you live on the Island. It has no competitors, so what you get is what they have to say. You have to make up your own mind whether you go with them or not, but it is a good, quick read in the morning.

Then over the course of the day, I glance online at several newspapers, and it has to be a newspaper where I can do what I need to do and then move on.

I pretty much focus on one story that captivates me, read it top to bottom, and then move onto something else.

Thus, I glance at several online periodicals that look at the Jewish experience, including the Jerusalem Post and a few other such newspapers.

If you want a fast read that really doesn't tell you much of anything, you only have to go to the New York tabloids, the New York Post and the New York Daily News, to not get to the gist of the story, but more often to keep abreast of various stories, and I do mean literally abreast. The Post, in particular, focuses much of its online coverage on its own breast obsession, and if you want a fast paced fun read in between the real news that is out there, you just have to at least glance at The Breast ... err ... The Post each and every day.

Then at times, I want to see some other newspapers from around the world, and if you want the lightest read you can possibly have, I would definitely suggest The Sun (https://www.thesun.co.uk/), the British equivalent of The Post/Yahoo News/The National Enquirer all mixed into one, and it offers it with the British standpoint, which makes it even more humorous.

Most of its coverage is sexually oriented, grabbing the reader with explosive headlines, such as the photos of past front pages of the actual newspaper that I have posted here.

In today's online edition, as I speak, the top story is certainly one that is being covered internationally, but again, that British bent makes it even more interesting.

Their No. 1 news item at this moment is: "One Fly With Me: Prince Andrew Was On Board Jet With Paedo Epstein and 'Sex Slave" Says Pilot."

The headline says it all, doesn't it?

So creative, so jarring, and so much fun to read.

Of course, probably a major portion of the publication's home page has to do with show biz/sports types and what they are doing to elevate the world, including full coverage of the likes of Miley Cyrus, Gemma Collins, Katie Price (who the last two are I have no idea at all), intense coverage of some soccer star who complained of heartburn who ended up dropping dead the day after proposing to his girlfriend, and another story about actress "Emma Watson and 'Harry Potter's' Draco Malfoy Spark Dating Rumours With Intimate Pic."

Yes, there is some real news covered on The Sun's front page, but you really have to search for it in between all the show biz stuff.

This makes the newspaper a fun read, and a quick read if you have the time.

With all this talk about "fake news" The Sun brings you "real" news, or at least what it deems "real" news, or at least what they think their readership wants to read.

"My Girls Found Their Sister, 21, Dead In the Bath ... I'm Haunted By Their Screams."

Yes, that about says it all.

And I just love the headlines, don't you?

Classic Rant #1,077 (November 5, 2013): Let's Vote!

Today is Election Day, and while for most people it really is what they call an "off-year" election, it is still important to go to the voting booth today and to make your choices.

Me, I am planning to vote out just about every incumbent that there is, with a few exceptions.

That is the only way that I can voice my frustration at what politics have become, an agenda-driven job where the actual politicians put their thoughts and desires ahead of those of their constituents.

If you can't do what you promised that you would do during your term in office, why be elected again and still fumble around trying to do the things that you said you were going to do?

And this is an important election for those who turn 18 this year, because it is their first election.

That would characterize my son. Today is the first election he is going to vote in, and he knows that it signifies that he is no longer a child, that he is an adult.

It is something of a right of passage for these teens; they aren't babies anymore.

He is not a political person, doesn't know anything about the process, but he will participate for the first time today, and the great thing is that he is going to go with my mom, his grandmother, to the voting booth.

One generation guiding the other to the polls.

I go too early in the morning, before work, for him to go with me, so my mother graciously said that she would take him and that they would vote together.

I think that's really great.

I did not tell him who to vote for. I impressed upon him that it is more important to vote than who he should vote for.

He can pick and choose who he wants, and that is fine with me.

So many people drop the ball and don't vote, don't do their civic responsibility, and that is a shame.

So here, you have somebody who is entering the voting booth for the very first time, and yes, it might be a little nerve-racking, but he will get through it.

The last thing I can say is that everyone should go out and vote, even if this year's election isn't up to the magnitude of a Presidential election.

We, as citizens, are responsible for who serves as our elected officials, and even though there are times that these people that we elect in are skunks, at least we know that we were part of the process.

Vote today. Don't forget.

Rant #2,429: Bits and Pieces

Let's keep the Dave Clark Five vibe alive by bringing back "Bits and Pieces," our look at stories and circumstances that maybe don't deserve a full column to discuss, but warrant some attention, even in short form.

For those of you who don't know, "Bits and Pieces" was a Top-10 hit for the DC5 more than 50 years ago, and its stomp would wake the dead from their eternal slumber.

Much like what we are going to talk about here today.

Eric Garner Cop Fired: If anyone expected a different verdict in a case that happened in a city run by a racist anarchist, well, you should have your head examined.

Just to go over the specifics of the case in brief, five years ago, Eric Garner, a shady character who was selling cigarettes on the street, was told to stop doing so by police. He did not heed what the police told him to do, and was being sassy about it too.

The cops there, including Officer Daniel Pantaleo, tried to reason with this human waste, but Garner refused to listen. The police there were trying to handcuff him for his disobedience, but the problem was that Garner weighed more than 300 pounds and had a breathing condition.

Pantaleo put Garner in a sloppy chokehold, Garner yelled "I can't breathe," and this panhandler died.

Upon his death, he became a symbol of police brutality, and every anti-law politician worth his salt came out of the woodwork, stating that justice would not be served until Pantaleo was fired.

Well, five years later, it happened. Surprise surprise.

Pantaleo is appealing, will most certainly sue the city for millions, and this case has really just begun.

If Garner would have only heeded what the police told him, he would be alive today, but in this lawless city, run by Mayor Bill deBlasio, who somehow believes that his record of incompetence is good enough so he can run for president, a not guilty verdict would not have been tolerated. If that decision came down, you just know that the ignorant, led by the likes of Al Sharpton, would have not been quiet, would have rioted, would have destroyed the very fiber of the city even more than it has been with this incompetent poop at the helm--by the way, a guy that the people of New York voted into the mayor's office not once, but twice.

Ignorance is bliss, I guess, and New York City citizens have only themselves to blame for this entire incident, its aftermath, and what is going to happen now that Pantaleo has been fired.

Good riddance to them. They deserve it.

Tlaib Decides Not to Visit Israel: In a move the demonstrated that all she really wanted to do was to rabble rouse against Israel when she visited there, Congressman Rashida Tlaib, who so wanted to see her elderly grandmother for possibly the final time, has decided not to visit Israel after first agreeing to go there under humanitarian pretenses offered by the Jewish State to her after she was initially rebuked from visiting the country.

Get out the violins on this one. Tlaib initially was going to Israel to spout her anti-Israel rhetoric, going with gal pal and fellow anti-Semite Ilhan Omar to spread the message that Israel was an oppressive country to Palestinians, who only want peace in the region.

They were denied entrance by the Israeli government because it was obvious what they were going to do while there.

Then Israel offered Tlaib an olive branch, If she wanted to see her elderly grandmother, who lives in the region, so badly, they would allow her to do so under humanitarian means.

Tlaib filled out the paperwork, vowed to not spout hate while there, and than at the last minute, reneged on her need to see her grandmother, instead stating that Israel was the bad guy in this entire episode, because they were stifling her free speech.

The congressman is an American-born Palestinian, but she well knows the subterfuge that the Palestinians unleash in that part of the world, always spouting the "victim" gambit, when most people with a brain in their heads know that the Palestinians are really the fly in the ointment in any peace process that goes on in that area.

She used her grandmother as human shield for what she really wanted to do as the Palestinians use their children as human shields against Israeli strikebacks.

And this garbage was elected to our Congress yet.

My Spit Isn't Good, I Guess: A few weeks back, I decided to take the plunge that millions of people have done, which is to have my DNA scrutinized by one of the outfits that do this type of thing. I won't name them now, because the process seems to be ongoing and I don't want to damn them yet, although that time is rapidly approaching.

So I paid my money, got my kit, and the way they do it is that you spit into a tube, seal the tube, and mail it back to analysis. The whole thing is supposed to take several weeks.

Well, I did it and the company sent me an email saying that they could not analyze my saliva, and that I would have to do it again.

No reason was given for this, and I figured that since it wasn't going to cost me any additional charge, I might as well go along with this and just do it.

Which I did ... and yesterday, I received the same message back. They cannot get anything out of what I gave them, so I would have to do it again.

No reason was given, of course, but on my end, I am doing everything right. I am giving them a saliva sample in the morning, prior to me eating or drinking anything, or brushing my teeth. I am sealing the tube correctly, I am putting the tube in the prepaid postage box correctly, what's going on here?

The company won't tell me, even though I did contact them about this.

I brought this up on Facebook, and lo and behold, I am not the only person whose saliva isn't working, and there might be a reason for this.

Evidently, if you are taking any pills or medicine in your daily routine, it might be masking the attributes the company needs to read your DNA from your saliva.

I take a cholesterol pill daily, and I also get steroid-driven allergy shots on a monthly basis.

Hmmmmmm ....

Why the company won't state this in its literature is beyond me.

I will do it one more time, but in my book, three strikes and you are out. If it does not work again, I will ask for my money back and move on.

My Musical Nephews: I have four nephews, three from my sister and her husband and one from my wife's youngest brother and his wife. They are all really good guys, and I love them to pieces.

Two of them are in bands, one on the East Coast and one on the West Coast.

My West Coast nephew came in for a visit the other day, and we talked about his music, and he said he would send me some links to what he has done.

It is not really my cup of tea, but this particular nephew--who is my godson to boot--is a smart guy, so I guess he knows what he is doing.

Here are his links. Give it a try. I did. I still can't hear well after listening to this stuff, and no, they are not the Dave Clark Five.

1:  https://youtu.be/tQVco4TyVC8

2: https://youtu.be/LBqiAwZH3Eg

3: https://instagram.com/fucked_forever?igshid=krdpok5jtpx8

4:  https://doc-0s-2s-docs.googleusercontent.com/docs/securesc/ha0ro937gcuc7l7deffksulhg5h7mbp1/vokn0jfrbkur5ms86va9e1a2nqnie6na/1566158400000/11902987790784834979/*/1z_mfmAdagdgM_w9owxrpntJ9vZ7Bib-v?e=download

Classic Rant #1,076 (November 4, 2013): Phone Daze

I took off on Friday to attend to some personal family business.

Nothing that extraordinary, but sometimes, you just need to take the day off to attend to such things.

When Friday ended, we moved onto Saturday, and my family did our normal things:

Do the garbage.

Do the dishes.

Go food shopping.

Take our son to his bowling league.

Etc.

But my wife and I--given the chance to do this together, since she is starting to work on the weekends beginning this coming Saturday--did a lot of our holiday shopping.

And yes, we did it together.

Sure, there are always surprises when we buy each other things for the holidays.

But with the holidays all on top of each other this year--and with my wife's birthday just a few days away on November 10--it was just better to do what we had to do, and do it together.

In addition to some other minor gifts that she doesn't know about, I bought her a winter jacket.

Let me tell you, this is some nice jacket, if I do say so myself. It will keep her warm while, at the same time, keep her sexy and stylish.

We bought some other things, but then, in the afternoon, the ultimate happened.

We went to the local Verizon store, and she bought me a cellphone.

Yes, I am probably the last holdout. Sure, I have had cellphones before, but they were pay as you use them devices. They were pretty much phones, and that was it.

Now, she decided that it was a necessity to get me a phone, as we are getting older, and she wants me to have a direct line to her--and she to me--in case of anything that may happen.

So we went to the store, and me, knowing nothing about cellphones--other than I don't really like them, and I don't like what it does to people who use them--looked around, and saw one that I thought was a nice one.

It was a Samsung Galaxy. The one thing I did know is that I did not want anything to do with Apple. Apple wants to rule the world, and they do it, at least partly, through their phones.

When I bought my wife her phone many months ago, I could see that once you use an Apple phone, you are tied into them, especially with iTunes.

I did not want that, and that is probably the only thing I knew at the time, so I went with the Samsung.

After what seemed like a whole afternoon at the place--my wife also upgraded her iPad, don't ask--I left the store with my first real cellphone, my first smartphone.

To say that I am a little afraid of it is an understatement.

I basically put it away for the day when we got home, and helped my wife fiddle with her new iPad--and my son with her old iPad, since he is now the proud owner of her old model that is just less than a year old.

My mind had closed down, and I had had enough. I fell asleep real early on Saturday night.

On Sunday, my wife helped me a little more with the phone. I programmed her phone number into it, and I actually went on the Internet with it. The first thing I went on was a site where I wrote a reply to a column a little while back, so I can say the first thing I ever saw on the Internet on my phone was something I wrote.

Anyway, we programmed in a few other things, and I guess I am good to go.

As you probably know, I am one of those people who have no need to be connected to anybody like some people are. I speak on the phone at work when necessary, but I have never been much of a phone person.

Now, I have a connection to the world at my fingertips, and I don't know whether to feel glad--which I do, I appreciate the gift from my wife--or to feel overwhelmed.

Probably both.

But one thing you can bet on is that you will NEVER see me talking on the phone while driving or texting on the phone while behind the wheel.

I hate it when I see people doing that, have almost had a few accidents because of people doing this, and it is a waste of my valuable time.

Heck, I don't even know how to text yet.

That lesson will come at a later time, I guess.

Rant #2,428: Forget

The title for this Rant is the perfect segueway from Friday's Rant, where some of that entry had to do with the Dave Clark Five, as "Forget" is the title of one of their lesser-known songs.

It is also a very basic description of Alzheimer's Disease, the real life "Walking Dead" that many people suffer from later in life.

Doctors and researchers have been trying to find a cure for this affliction for generations, and so far, we know more about the disease, but not enough to kick it.

We know how to stave it off a bit with drugs, and even with brain exercises so our brains don't rot away with inactivity.

But now we know another sign that Alzheimer's could be coming on: excessive napping.

According to research published in "Alzheimer's and Dementia," a peer reviewed journal, changes in sleep patterns years prior to actually getting the disease might be an early warning sign of its coming later on in life.

And it has to do with napping. If napping was never part of your sleep routine, and it has increasingly become part of that routine, then there might be need to worry.

If you have pretty much always been a napper--taking short breaks to go to sleep during the day--then you probably have nothing to worry about, according to these findings, which were made by a group of researchers from several California universities.

Sleep changes might represent the death of brain cells related to Alzheimer's Disease, and perhaps the most important element of this research was that it was found that entire sets of brain neurons related to keeping us awake are wiped out by the disease, and thus, those who may be prone to developing the disease often compensate for this loss by taking naps.

Further research is needed, of course, but this could be another rung to ladder leading up to a cure for the dreaded disease.

I have written in the past about my grandmother, my father's mother, who developed this dreaded disease later in life.

She probably was on the path to it for years before, but back then, nobody really knew very much about Alzheimer's. If was often shrugged off as what happens when one "gets old," or it was mixed up with dementia, which it is related to, but still separate and different from it.

I remember that my grandmother went from a cheerful person who was full of life to a person that was just existing, not knowing what was happening, not knowing her loved ones, not knowing to eat and dress, and a person who would not be able to live out her life on her own terms.

Her last months were absolutely horrid. As the disease started to permeate her very being, you could see by her face that she often did not know where she was or why she was there. We have photos of her at my wedding in 1993 that clearly show this.

The symptoms would come and go at that time. At times, she could be herself. I remember one particular incident, in 1995, right after my son was born, where he was being very fussy. She said that she could get him to quiet down, and she took him in her arms, and rocked him to sleep.

But those incidences were not common back then, and when she was put in an old age home some months after that, we knew that time was counting down on her.

The last time I saw her, she recognized me, but had no idea who my baby son was or who my father was.

My father promptly told me that if he ever got to that point, to get a gun and relieve him or his misery.

Of course, I could never do that, but the pain in his voice was real. He didn't ever want to end up like that, in particular to not remember his family.

My father is nearly 88 years old now, his memory is not what it once was, but thank goodness he does not have Alzheimer's. He is still resilient, runs around with my mother like people one quarter of their age, and is enjoying retirement.

He can also sleep anyone under the table, but that has been the norm for his his entire life, or at least as long as I can remember. As a kid, my father was often so tired that on the weekend, he would sleep away a day, but he worked hard, so it was a given that he craved extra sleep on the weekend.

Me, I have never been much of a sleeper--hence, the earliness of this blog--and I will take a nap on occasion on the weekend.

My son can also sleep anyone under the table, and he has slept at a clip of like 15 hours straight if we let him go that far, which we generally don't allow him to do.

But so far, Alzheimer's in our family stopped with my grandmother, and hopefully won't ever rear its ugly head again in our family.

And hopefully, with this latest bit of research, doctors are closer to cracking the Alzheimer's puzzle, so no family ever has to go through bearing the brunt of this horrible affliction ever again.