Rant #2,491: More Than I Can Say

Things are slowly getting back to normal in my house.

We have to get back to normal. We just had a very rough week, and it is time to move on.

My father will never be forgotten, he will always be in our thoughts, but we cannot dwell on it anymore.

I,personally, closed the book on mourning with my virtual shiva on Zoom, with about three dozen participants. We all laughed and cried and laughed some more together, and it made me feel good. Even though Zoom is not a perfect vehicle and I, personally, still haven't figured out a lot of its nuances, it went well, lasted for two hours, and I appreciate everyone who participated and who wanted to participate.

So for me, with mourning having broken, it was time for me to get back in the saddle ...

I finally sat down to watch some baseball this weekend, and I was pleasantly surprised that the New York Yankees have won five games in a row after a horrible period that, eerily, mirrored the last days of my father's life.

And today, my allergies are very bad, with my nose running out the door and my right eye not working very well.

So I am pretty much back to normal, and I can say this confidently: "What else is new?"

Well, quite frankly, nothing much is new, but during the past week, I have had to skirt over some prominent passings because I was so close to the passing that happened in my own family.

Lou Brock, the prolific base stealer for the St Louis Cardinals in the 1960s and 1970s, passed the other day.

When I was growing up and just getting into baseball, Brock had emerged as one of the game's best players. During an era where runs were at a premium, Brock and Maury Wills made base stealing into a science, picking up the extra base when they could and helping their team score runs when runs weren't easy to come by.

And the Hall of Famer was smart off the field too. He created one of those gizmos that could only have come to the fore in the 1970s, an umbrella hat that was more a popular novelty than something that would endure, but it was one of those crazy things that ushered in the era of pet rocks and Rubik's cubes, so I guess it had its worth.

Brock was at his best during the 1960s, and so was this next notable celebrity who passed away just a few days ago.

When people think of the "Swingin' 1960s," they think of England and Carnaby Street and the Beatles, and they also have to think of one Miss Emma Peel, the living and breathing pop-art pinup from "The Avengers," the British cloak and dagger spoof that made it to our shores during the middle of that decade.

And who was Emma Peel? She was Diana Rigg. Rigg was Peel, Peel was Rigg, and no matter what else this actress ever did, could it have topped her character on "The Avengers?"

With those long-legged, pop art costumes that literally were impaled on her figure, to her sexy voice, Peel was sort of the action figure counterpart to Twiggy, a fashion plate for that period.

And when she used her long legs to kick villains into submission, well, that alone should put her in the TV Hall of Fame.

And like most great British actors and actresses, once the first burst of fame fades, they just move onto the next role, and that took Rigg up to the current time, where she was on "Game of Thrones," much older, but still able to pack a punch.

And since death comes in threes, we have to include the passing of Honey Cone lead singer Edna Wright.

No, Wright was certainly not as well known as Brock and Rigg were, but you certainly knew the music that she helped make into big hits in the early 1970s, with her voice propelling "Want Ads," "One Monkey Don't Stop No Show," and "Stick-Up" to the top of the music charts.

Known as "The" Honey Cone, Wright and her mates were supposed to be the next Supremes, and while that never happened, they were extremely popular during this pre-disco period, placing seven singles on the Hot 100 in just about four years.

R.I.P. to them all. They all made a major mark on our lives, even fleetingly, and as Wright sang, "One Monkey Don't Stop No Show," so let's all move on from talking about death and talk about ...

Life!

I know that is how my father would want it, so enough about all of this, and let's look ahead to something better.

My father called it "The Good Life," and yes, I do believe that is an attainable goal for all of us.