Rant #3,301: Daydream

No, we are not daydreaming or hallucinating.

It is actually February 29, as 2024 is a leap year, a once every four years occurrence that we last hit in 2020.

We have leap years to keep the calendar year synchronized with the astronomical year or the seasonal year.

2020 was a leap year, too, but the day fell on a Saturday, so I didn't write about the day here in this Blog.

I went back to 2016, and the day was during the week that year, and I wrote about a myriad of topics that day, including about my broken-down computer and actress Salma Hayek, but I really didn't write about anything specifically related to this leap year day.

Four years earlier, during the 2012 leap year day, I actually wrote two Blog posts: a regular post and an additional post about the death of Davy Jones.

So in 2022, not only did we have an extra day on the calendar, but we also registered an extra Blog post that year.

Today, I guess I could say that this is just another leap year day, but so much has changed in my world, and in the world in general, over the past 12 years or so.

I won't go into chapter and verse about this, but I really don't think the world is the same as it was a dozen years ago, or heck, the world isn't the same that it was when I came onto this earth in 1957.

That year was not a leap year--the first leap year thst I experienced was in 1960, and knowing my personal history, at two years old going on three, I was somewhere doing something as a little kid, after two months earlier welcoming my sister to the world.

But back to Leap Year 2024 ... how are you going to use your extra day to your advantage?

For me, it is a day that I will go to physical therapy, another day on my road to full recovery.

So I guess I am using the day to the best of my ability--how about you?

And yes, I feel for those born on this day, and only can actually celebrate their special day on the exact date of their birth every four yesrs.

I believe I know one person who was born on that day, and I guess it is difficult, but they manage.

I am sure their parents were hoping against hope that they would be born on February 28 or on March 1, but it simply didn't happen.

And just so you know, some people even stretch the month further than February 29.

There was a rock band in the late 1960s or early 1970s that was known as "The 31st of February."

They came from Jacksonville, Florida, had a few records, but didn't make it.

I guess that is what happens when you stretch the month of February to the breaking point.

It is bad enough that we have an extra day on the calendar every four years on February 29, but to stretch our shortest month beyond that ...

Nope, nothing good can come of it. 

Rant #3,300: You Better You Bet

We finally hit the big 3--3--0--0.

There was a point in time, just a few months ago, that I thought we would never get to thst number of Rants.

I was in a real bad way with my injuries, the house was giving everyone nightmares, and I just wasn't into writing anything five days a week because I simply could not find the words to describe what was going on.

But as I got better--and we got closer to selling the house--I once again felt the need to put it all in writing, and the rest is history.

I enjoy putting the Rants together, but now that I am getting better, the direction of my Rants have changed.

When I got hurt, much of what I wrote about revolved sround the pain and confusion I was going through.

Now, as I am feeling better--both mentally and physically--I have expanded the subjects that I am writing about.

And that makes me feel good.

There is no reason for the daily updates on my heath anymore.

And the house has been sold, so there is no reason to talk about that topic anymore.

So, as it stands now. I am.pretty much writing about whatever I want to write about--

And i reserve the right to give you a health update every once in a while, and I can write about the old house if I feel.it is necessary.

Yesterday, I went to physical therapy--it is really difficult, but I am doing the best that I can--and I picked up.my new lenses at the eye doctor.

No revelations in either of these.

My wife takes me where I need to go, and while she is bearing up with the strain, I cannot wait until I am given the OK to drive, as it will release some of the burden off of her shoulders.

I am still working at my remote editing/writing job, and it keeps me busy and occupied, some days more than others.

I am doing OK, and this Blog has pretty much reverted back to what it was created for all those years ago: as an outlet for my writing what I want to write about.

So, 3,300 might just be a number to most of you, but to me, it is more than that.

It represents another step in my rehab, where I can get back to normal ... somewhat.

I have a long road to go, but I will get there.

I have at least 3,300 reasons to believe that.

Rant #3,299: The Letter

I was watching some spring training baseball this weekend and yesterday on television, and after watching baseball intermittently, I have to ask you this:

Do the new uniforms seem to lessen the size of the information on the back of the uniform tops?

While players have been grumbling about the sheerness of the uniform pants--claiming that the lightness of the pants have made them virtually see-through--to this viewer, at least, the information on the back of the shirts--the player's name and his number--is what i am looking at, and appears to my eye to be smaller.

Major league bsseball switched its uniform manufacturer and designer--Fanatics and Nike, tespectively--to streamline the uniforms, making them lighter and more flexible for the players.

But it seems a lot of the players have complained thst the uniforms are lighter as advertised, but they are also much sheerer.

It seems thst many players won't wear the new pants, so they are wearing the new tops but are wearing the old bottoms.

I don't think that baseball will be getting like tennis now--where the outfits of the players--mainly the women--are almost more important than the action, but it bears worth noting.

On my end, the numbers seem to be smaller, as do the names.

I have macular degeneration to begin with, so trying to follow who's who by the back of the jerseys is going to be that much more difficult for people like me.

I guess for some players with shorter names it isn't that big a deal, but in order to squeeze longer names on the jerseys, they just shrunk the entire template.

And when you are watching spring training games--where most of the players you haven't even heard of to begin with--it just makes it that much more difficult for someone like me.

But for a guy like the New York Yankees' Aaron Judge, well, he is so huge to begin with that you will never miss his name or number 99.

But what do you do if you are Christian Encarnacion-Strand, the Cincinnati Reds player who now holds the record for longest last name on the back of a major league baseball jersey, with his last name clocking in at 18 letters including the hyphen.

I guess all you can say is thank goodness they don't put the first names of the players on there too.

Or the middle names ... Encarnacion-Strand's middle name is, mercifully, Lee.

L--E--E ... 1--2--3.

Me, I should have been an MLB player, based on my name if nothing else.

With just five letters in my last name, my name would have fit perfectly on the back.of the jersey.

But I would hope they would spell my name correctly.

I have had my name spelled in so many different ways--Lapha, Lappa, Lapke, Lakka, and so many other ways--if it is wrong, it doesn't matter if the lettering is large or small if it isn't correct.

Yes, I obviously missed my calling.

Rant #3,298: Another One Bites the Dust

I had a good weekend as I progress with my rehab.

Baseball began. I watched a lot of professional wrestling with my son, and we entertained for the first time since we moved to our new residence.

On Friday, I found out that a takeout food mainstay of my family was no more ... at least in my neck of the woods, but evidently beyond that.

Boston Market is now officially out of business on Long Island, as the Bethpage store was shuttered after all the other ones were closed.

Although I am not a chicken eater, I used to go to this eatery for my wife and my mom, and I have to say, they had the best creamed spinach around.

I knew something was afoot six months or so ago, when I went in there for a chicken meal for my wife ... and they had absolutely no chicken--nothing was on the spits, and I mean NOTHING.

Evidently, the chain went bye bye because they weren't paying their workers nor the suppliers they used to get their food, including, I would assume, their chicken.

Others have written to me to say that Boston Market is shuttered in their areas, too, so is the chain gone like Wetson's, or is it still around?

In early January, for some unknown reason. I received an email about new investment opportunities being made available for the chain. 

But maybe that was a last gasp.

The last couple of times I went to the one in Bethpage, the place was not as it had been, and their food wasn't that good, according to my wife.

They had cut down on their sides, and the chicken was tough.

And yes, I did not make up the absolute fact that one time I went in there and they were chicken-less.

Look, they were an alternative to the usual hamburger joints, a place that you could actually sit down and have a meal, with real.plates and utensils.

I used it for take out, and st one time, their turkey sandwich wasn't bad, and like I said, the cream of spinach thst they offered was really good.

But like what happened to many businesses, things took a turn for the worst when COVID hit, and they never really recovered.

I think people realized that you could get better rotisserie chicken at your local supermarket, at a cheaper price, than you could at your local Boston Market.

And as people found that out, the chain's offerings simply deteriorated ... and you know the chain is in trouble when they begin using unbranded packaging to put their wares in when using them for takeout.

I remember writing to the company about my no-chicken experience.

They wrote back to me a letter that was totally unapologetic, saying very matter of factly that they experienced supply chain issues ... and told me to come back another day.

Well, now I not only can't come back, but I guess because of my injury, I missed their funeral.

Boston Market, R.I.P.

Rant #3,297: Summertime

It is February 23, there is still snow on the ground, and all I have going through my head is ...

BASEBALL ...

BASEBALL ...

And more BASEBALL.

I am still wearing my brace and still can't walk without some assistance, and yet, I am thinking about our national pastime.

Teams have assembled in Florida and Arizona in spring training--even though the season of spring doesn't actually come for about a month--and this weekend, the New York teams are going to have some of their earliest spring games televised.

These games don't count at all--except for those players working on things and/or trying to make their respective teams--but to me, it means that my favorite sport's 2024 regular season is right around the bend.

And even though I have suddenly become increasingly busy--mainly due to physical therapy and my increased mobility--I hope to actually watch some of these games, and dovetail right into the regular season.

I have loved baseball as far back as I can remember, and to me, not only does it represent my favorite sport, it also signifies the coming of summer ... warmer weather and all that goes along with it.

I wasn't a very good player as a kid, but when I played as a kid, I just loved it.

I got that from my father, who loved the game, was my coach, and influenced me to become a New York Yankees fan.

Maybe I loved getting dirty, but when we had a game, I couldn't wait to get to the field and get the game going.

I tried to bring that excitement to my son as his coach when he played Little League, and even though he was like me, not the greatest player, he played for seven years, so maybe he got what I was trying to impart to him.

Baseball is the only major game without a time clock, and to me, every game is at least nine innings of fun and excitement, whether it takes two hours, three hours, or more.

Some games are better than others, the game has been refined to its detriment--that "ghost runner" thing in extra innings has got to go--but the game is the game, and it keeps on going with new stars being created each and every year.

I know, people knock bsseball for being too slow, and the four-to-seven game Workd Series will never have the almost unhealthy magnetism that the single-game Super Bowl has--but baseball is the most nuanced of the four major team sports, and the day-in, day-out 162 games in 180 days is a marvel of team sports each and every year.

Sure, the spring training games are often time to take a snooze, but for me, what they portend, both on the field and in general, is just so exciting to me--and might be even more exciting to me as I sit here with this bum left leg.

No, I will never be able to run out on the field again and play a game, but baseball to me represents the youthful vim and vigor I once had, when I would play all day and  all night if I could.

No, I can't do that anymore--bum leg or no bum leg--but watching these games makes me young again, and makes me believe, once again, that anything is possible.

And that is baseball, plain and simple, and no other sport brings you back to.your younger, carefree days like baseball does.

Have a great weekend, and I will speak to you again on Monday.

Rant #3,296: You Got the Wrong Guy

The nightmare continues ...

Bet you didn't think you would ever hear that phrase again from me, but it has reared its ugly head again, related to my mother and our former residence.

I received a letter in the mail yesterday related to medical equipment thst we rented during her final weeks of being alive, including a wheelchair and oxygen equipment.

When she passed away on September 5, my sister and I made numerous calls to a variety of entities to alert them of her death.

We also contacted the entity that oversaw her home hospice care to tell them of her passing, and we contacted the health equipment company to ask them to pick up the equipment we had been renting.

The equipment was picked up either that day or a day or two later, and that was that--or so we thought.

Fast forward to yesterday, and I received in the mail a letter from the equipment provider stating that our account needed to be rectified, because they had no record that the equipment was returned.

They evidently had called my mother's number to get this taken care of, but obviously, we also called the phone company to close down her account and remove her number from any phone listings--and as a side note, that was also tortuous, as it took me three times to finally do this.

Incredibly, the equipment company did, somehow, find out where my family and I now live, and the letter was addressed to my mother at my new residence.

So I read over the letter, and I immediately called the equipment company. 

I got someone on the phone with an extremely heavy accent, and I had to tell her several times to speak slowly, because I could not understand a word she was saying.

Anyway, she told me that she would forward an email to her superiors about my concerns--I was there when the equipment was picked up, although in our move, I don't know where the receipt is--but I told her in no uncertain terms that there was no way that I was going to pay for equipment that had been returned.

I hung up with her, and I decided to call the provider that oversaw my mother's home hospice care, and after being passed from one person to another, I finally hit the jackpot.

I spoke to the woman who oversees the group's home hospice care, and lo and behold, she was the one who gave the OK to pick up the equipment, a job which is handled by a third-party provider that the equipment company uses for such tasks.

She gave me the name of the pickup company, and I thanked her for this information.

I called the equipment company back, and once again got someone who had a very thick accent--so thick that I thought it was the same person I had originally spoken to.

I told her thst her company's beef about the equipment is not with me, but with the pickup company that they use, because I now had proof thst the pickup was acknowledged by the home hospice care company.

The pickup was done, so is it my fault that it was inaccurately recorded, or possibly in this case, not recorded?

I also told the woman on the phone thst I want her to follow up the original email that was sent to her superiors with the information I just provided, and I also told her that five months after the fact, her company's actions were completely reprehensible, and if they continue to push this situation with me, rather than the company thst they use to do equipment pickups, I would launch legal action against them.

Again, this is not the world I was born into. Incompetence seems to be applauded, and as long as I have breath in my body, I am not going to stand for such idiocy.

And this is retirement? What type of retirement is this?

I hope my mother is not turning in her grave about this, but if she isn't turning--or even if she is--I am seething about this situation right now.

This nightmare just doesn't want to end.

Rant #3,295: Which Way is Up?

I went to the dentist yesterday, but it was my wife who ended up getting the root canal.

My son and I had our dental appointments back to back, so my wife drove us to the office after our son completed work.

There is limited parking directly in front of the office, but lots of municipal.parking lots a few steps away on both sides of the street.

Not finding a space in front of the office, I told my wife to park right around the corner in the closest municipal lot.

She parked the car, and my wife, our son and i--with my crutches--slowly waked to the office.

We were both done in record time, and my wife walked to the car so she could pull it in front of the office, which would allow me easier access to the car.

After about three minutes, I asked my son where his mother was--it should  have taken maybe a minute or so for her to get to the car and pull it right in front--amd then she finally pulled up, emerged from the car, and said--

"I GOT A TICKET!"

It was a parking ticket, and I was completely amazed 

The dental office and the municipal.psrking lot are both in our old town that we lived in for decades, and I have to tell you, I have parked in thst very lot about 23,674,374 times, and I never had a problem.

Evidently, with the dawn of the new yesr some 50 or so days ago, things have changed in this lot, and you now need a parking permit to park your car there.

I certainly had no idea about thos, and I apologized to my wife about telling her to park there, in particular because she wanted to park somewhere else before I directed her there.

I felt so bad about this thst I gave her money to pay the ticket, plus to pay for some gas.

To add insult to injury, you can only pay the ticket with a money order or a bank check, and not with a personal check.

I felt really bad about this entire episode, but as you can imagine, my wife was enraged about it.

I parked in this lot plenty of times without a second thought, but now, we know that we cannot park there anymore.

I am upset that it took my wife's bad luck to alert us to this change in parking when we go to the dentist.

Yup, once again, it's like pulling teeth.

Rant #3,294: Pay To the Piper

We did our taxes yesterday.

Hrumph!

My son did well, but my wife and I did not.

We once again got burned, because what with me being what amounts to an independent contractor, taxes on what little salary I get must be atoned for, and tax day is the day to do it.

And then we have Social Security being taxed ... don't get me started.

I wss hoping against hope that we could take off something for our move to a new residence, but we were told that that type of deduction was done away with several years ago because people abused it, so even though we spent scads of money to relocate, Uncle Sam couldn't help us out.

At least we were able to.pay the government what we were deemed to owe them right on the spot, so we don't have to think about it.

What's done is done ... until next year, when pretty much the same thing is going to happen.

Today, I have the dentist, which should be another test for exactly how I am doing.

I already canceled once, because I simply was not up to it physically, but since I am so much better, it is time to get this done.

It's only a cleaning, but sitting in that chair with my leg still not right is not something I am looking forward to, but I will get through it.

Heck, I hate going to the dentist even when I am 100 percent healthy, but since I am something less than that now, I am simply looking forward to getting it over with.

Hopefully, they won't find anything, and if they don't, by the next time I have to go to the dentist, I should be much further along in my rehabilitation, so it won't be as bad.

But right now, let's not put the cart before the horse ... one thing at a time. 

Let me get through today.

Hopefully, it won't be like pulling teeth.

Doing our taxes each year is like pulling teeth.

Going to the dentist, even in my condition, shouldn't be.

Now, about Social Security being taxed ... .

Rant #3,293: House of Fun

I just had a pretty inconsequential weekend.

Weekends seem to be the most difficult part of my rehab, as generally, I have nowhere to go and not much to do.

This past weekend, I made myself a task: to get all my 45 RPM records into receptacles that I could handle and access without fear of damage to me, or to my collection.

As you know, they had been placed in drawers in a heavy plastic dresser, and when I went to access them several weeks ago, one of the drawers I opened became detached, and the entire contents of that drawer fell on me, tearing my quad in my left leg for a second time.

Since that time and through my newest rehab, I had been thinking about how to house, store and access roughly 5,000 singles.My LPs are already in storage--to my chagrin--but if I am going to keep my singles in our new residence, I have to have them stored away safely; safely for both the records and for me, because I certainly do not need a replay of what happened all those weeks ago.

I thought and thought abd thought some more about what to do, and I even put up my quagmire on a couple of social boards.

I also did some research, and found thst such receptacles did exist, but at a price that I wasn't willing--or able--to pay.

In the interim, a couple of professional woodworkers that were recommended to me were contacted, but even though they agreed to work on the project, they all since bowed out of the project by their silence.

I got frustrated, did some more thinking about this situation, and finally decided that the solution to the problem was standing a couple feet away from me in my bedroom.

In our old house, I stored my 45s in plastic storage bins that I bought over the years from Target.

These bins--I ended up having eight of them--are low to the floor--maybe three feet to three and a half feet high off the floor--and with each featuring three drawers, they are sturdy and could hold about 600 some odd singles per unit, or about 200 per drawer.

When we were forced out of our house, I got rid of all of these receptacles, some of which were falling apart from wear.

I bought these larger plastic holders to house these 45s, and I guess the rest is history.

But I did keep one of these smaller units, because not even two of these larger units could hold all my singles.

Through the pain and distress caused by one of the drawers from these larger receptacles falling on me, that smaller holder still housed about 600 records, with no pain.

I also used my old end table to my bed to store about 600 singles, so really, I have been knocking myself out trying to figure out how to store the other 3,800 records or so ... but then, it all dawned on me.

I had a real epiphany of "record" proportions.

If the singles were successfully stored and accessed for decades from those smaller storage bins in the past, why couldn't I do it again?

So late last week, I online ordered three of the smaller storage bins from Target, got them to me that evening, and then on Saturday, I began to move everything over from the larger storage dressers to the smaller three-tier bin.

I finished the first of the moving on Sunday afternoon, and I figure that I needed two more of these bins to complete the full move, and I accomplished that on an otherwise boring Sunday.

One of the larger receptacles we got rid of, and my wife wants the other one to store clothes and things, so when I finish the project, she will get what she wants.

Or perhaps we can put that ine in our storage area too.

You can downplay all of this as akin to nothing more than twiddling my thumbs, but let me tell you, thus was therapeutic to me in so many ways, both mentally and physically, and yes, emotionally too.

It made me feel good to solve the problem, it filled up weekend time that I wouldn't normally be doing too much else in, and it made me feel useful thst I was doing something to make our new residence more user friendly.

And that I was even able to do all of this with minimal help demonstrates that I am getting better each and every day.

I have often told my wife thst it would take us roughly six months to "fully move into" our new dwelling.

We still have a ways to go--there are some pieces of furniture and some other things we could use to further make our apartment what we want it to be, but we are on our way.

And my solution to this problem that we had definitely points us in the right direction--

And points me, personally, in the right direction, too.

Rant #3,292: Why? Why? Why? (Is It So Hard?)

Today, I go for another round of physical therapy.

I am getting there, but I know that I have a long way to go.

Late Wednesday afternoon, I heard, like most of us did, that the Super Bowl parade in Kansas City was marred by gunshots, and that around two dozen people--mostly kids--were hit.

There was also one fatality, an adult female who was a well-known personality in the community.

The police--with the help of some of the attendees--have three people in custody, and the reason for the gunfire evidently was nothing more than an argument that broke out within the crowd.

Guns, guns, guns ... why are weapons being brought to a gathering of upwards of a million people who are simply there to honor their Super Bowl heroes?

Why did an argument spark the use of gunfire?

I am sure we will find out plenty during the next few days and weeks about what happened and why it happened, but it appears that crowd control chages are going to be necessary to at least stem some of the violence at sports-related celebrations.

Adding in this Super Bowl celebration, there has been violence at all the recent sports celebrations, perhaps not at the level of this latest incident, but at an alarming level nonetheless.

Guns and some of the people in our country simply do not mix, and measures evidently have to be taken to protect us from ourselves.

I believe the Kansas City Police Department--and all police departments nationwide--must adopt the measures taken by the New York City Police Deosrtment to protect attendees of such New York celebrations as the Thanksgiving Day Parade and New Year's Eve in Times Square.

Every person looking to attend these events is searched at a variety of checkpoints, cannot carry any bags or umbrellas and cannot leave and come back to the festivities area.

I think that the NYPD can teach these police departments a thing or two about crowd control, as the high-profile events like Thaksgiving and New Year's Eve have gone relatively peacefully on the highest of high profile stages.

People know what they are in for when they decide to attend these events, police are all over the place--many of them undercover--and nothing can get by the checkpoints.

Unfortunately, you just can't get up and go to these events anymore; you have to be fully prepared for the unexpected.

And in the Kansas City case, those thst pulled the trigger to lead to the death of an innocent woman should, if convicted, get the death penalty.

Why not make them an example?

And as for guns, I do believe.that probably nine out of 10 gun owners in our country know what they are doing as a gun owner, but thst one imbecile who doesn't is, unfortunately, going to ruin it for the others.

We need harsher and more restrictive gun laws for everyone, and we need these laws NOW.

You can hem and haw about your right to own and carry a legal weapon, but like when you were in school, the one dummy who says something when the teavher says not to, and gets the entire class in trouble, is going to have to apply with guns too.

You have one idiot, and that idiot is going to have to spoil it for everyone because of his or her actions.

Unfortunately, the Kansas City situation proved once again that this is not a cartoon, and guns do kill when in the wrong hands.

And if there are extra restrictions put on legal, law abiding gun owners, well, thst is just too bad.

Right now, there is just one fatality reported in Kansas City, but that is simply one too many.

And as an aside, what do the sports leagues have to say about this situation and the situations that have marred all the respective leagues' victory celebrations?

Have a great, safe weekend, and I will speak to you again on Monday.

Rant #3,291: Back Up On My Feet

I was tested for allergies yesterday.

Oh, I know I have them, but since I haven't had my shots in five months due to my injury, I had to be retested.

It is just a simple blood test, and I will find out the results next week.

And every time I go somewhere that I haven't been to in a while, everyone asks me what happened to me, and while I don't go into chapter and verse about my torn quadriceps, I do tell those that ask that I tore it twice.

I guess it makes for a more interesting story, in particular when I tell them how I did it not once, but twice.

Hope springs eternal, baseball is in the air, and the summer is right around the corner.

That makes me all feel good, and it is helping me to heal.

Physical therapy is difficult--it might actually be the hardest part of this whole ball.of wax--but I am getting there.

I go twice a week, and Friday is my next time going, and while these sessions are tough, it is tough for my own good.

I am looking for some other type of receptacle to put the records I took with me to our new residence into that won't nearly kill me. 

A couple of people told me that if I gave them the proper dimensions, they could build something for me, at much less than the $3,500 these things can go for.

But nothing has materialized, so I was thinking about several different types of units, including bedroom.end tables.

I am already using one right by my bed for a couple of hundred of my 45s, so maybe a few more might work--as long as they can fit in my closet and be out of sight, according to my wife's wishes.

But we shall see what we shall see.

But back to baseball ...

One of my dreams is to get back to Yankee Stadium and see the Yankees play in the big ballpark in the Bronx.

This upcoming season, that is probably not going to be possible for obvious reasons, but I have vowed to my family and myself that I will get to Yankee Stadium one day soon.

Same thing for Madison Square Garden, where I dream of seeing the Knicks in person again.

Even though I don't sleep very well, I do have dreams, and I hope to one day get back up on my feet and fulfill them.

And I am writing all.of this as I am looking directly at my bum left leg, and I wonder how this all happened to me, and when it will all be nothing more than a cruel memory for me.

Dreams are great, reality is better.

Rant #3,290: Sign of the Times

First off, Happy Valentine's Day to everyone, and I hope all of you are taking care of your loved ones on this special day.

Second, we finally got some appreciable snow yesterday, so much so that watching out for myself, I canceled an appointment with my doctor because I did not want to take a chance on the snow and ice.

Third, I have to defend President Biden and former President Trump, because certain quarters of our population are going after them because of their respective ages.

Each have made recent gaffes with names, and polls are out showing that the American people believe that these two are "too old" to be our president, and that most of those polled hoped that there were younger candidates running for the commander in chief position.

And all of this is being magnified and propelled by Republican candidate Nikki Haley, who has latched onto the ageism topic because she is so far behind in the race for the White House that this is the one and only thing she has to keep her going.

Biden and Trump are far from perfect, and neither will get my vote come November.

It has nothing to do with their ages. It has to do with their policies and their past performance, and lack thereof.

But to knock them for their ages perpetuates the myth that people of a certain age should be led out to.pature way before their time.

I am an obvious victim of ageism. After I lost my job right before the pandemic hit, I could not get arrested, and while the jobs were out there for the taking, no one was going to hire someone who was perceived to be over the hill, at age 62.

Now at age 66, and nearly 67, fuggedaboudit.

Although Biden and Trump made gaffes referring to names and positions, that doesn't necessarily mean that they have had it.

Holding their ages up as evidence, rather than their policies, casts a shadow not only against the two of them, but against anyone past a certain age, people like myself, whose faculties are as good, or better, than they were at younger ages.

To cast a blanket doubt against these two pretty much puts doubt in the minds of younger people about anybody of a certain age.

If someone is qualified, age really has nothing to do with anything.

I know 90 year olds who are as sharp as they were when they were in their 30s, and to make a generalization that all of us in our sixties and seventies and beyond are ready for the scrap heap is just so wrong.

Haley is 52 years of age, and she has often spoken about her parents in glowing terms.

I would suspect that they are in their eighties--are they ready for the same old age home as she says Biden and Trump are?

Look, she is hanging by the tip.of her toenails in this race for the presidency, and this ageism thing she is pushing might just give her enough of a push that she will run against the two as an independent, talking a good game but hanging in there as the "youngest" candidate.

Ageism is the most difficult charge to prove in the workplace, but it is now at the forefront of the presidential race.

If it is against the law in the workplace, why is it being accepted in the presidential race?

It is wrong whenever it comes up, and honestly, Haley should know better.

Desperate people do desperate things, and bringing up the age of people destroying you in the polls is really kind of bush league, isn't it now?

Rant #3,289: Honesty

As I said in yesterday's Rant, I did not watch one single, solitary second of this Sunday's Super Bowl.

The main reason is that I have no interest in football, didn't make any bets on the game, and the hype has gotten to be completely ridiculous.

But another reason that I did not watch the game is thst I am just so sick and tired of politics creeping into sports.

And that was exemplified before the game when the song that is referred to as "The Black National Anthem" was once again performed.

"Lift Every Voice and Sing" was performed by Andra Day before the game, the fifth straight year that the song was performed during the year's biggest game.

Sorry, the performance of this song completely dilutes the performance of this country's true national anthem--which was sung by lily white Reba McEntire--and punctuates the racial and societal divisions that some simply want to fester.

It comes off as, "Here is the white national anthem for whites, and then, here is the black national anthem for blacks," and defines what the word "wrong" means.

Sports and politics do not mix, and what point was the NFL trying to make with the song's constant inclusion in the pre-game festivities?

Sports are supposed to bring us together, not pull.us apart, and the inclusion of this song in the Super Bowl is just so wrong.

We are one nation, and the last time I looked, White Americans do not have their own national anthem, Hispanic Americans do not have their own national anthem, Asian Anericans do not have their own national anthem, and so on.

I understand that a good number of NFL players are black, and many others--including Chiefs quarterback Patrick Mahomes--are of mixed racial parentage.

But to put blacks on a lofty pedestal like this is unnecessary at least, and racist at its worst.

Let's all get under the same umbrella; aren't we better as one nation and with one national anthem?

Unfortunately, what has happened is the Super Bowl has about as much to do with the game as the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame has to do with the music ...

And that is not only sad, it says a lot about our country right now, and the divisions that some of us would love to get wider.

Enough already!

Rant #3,288: Talk Talk

The past weekend was pretty quiet for me, the calm before the storm of a busy week ahead.

As I mentioned on Facebook.and elsewhere, I have no interest in the Super Bowl, and I had no skin in the game, so to speak, so I did not watch a minute of the Big Game.

I was once a big football fan, but when the Giants and Jets moved from New York to New Jersey, and had the audacity to.keep the "New York" attached to their names, it just turned me completely off, and it allowed me to focus on baseball and basketball, my two favorite sports.

And let's be honest about it: the Super Bowl has been denigrated by all the phony hype, and it is not so much about the game anymore, but about the spectacle.

And legal betting has just made it that much worse ... and don't get me started on Taylor Swift.

The sporting aspect--the actual game--takes a backseat to all the pomp, and to me, that amounts to a poof.

And then we had the announcement of the latest group of Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nominees.

The announcement curiously came on Super Bowl Saturdsy morning ... it is almost as if the Hall was so embarrassed at who these supposedly "learned" music people nominated that they tried to bury the announcement in all the phony hype of the Super Bowl, hoping few woukd notice.

If that is true. I really can't blame them.

Completely ignoring other acts who deservedly belong in the HoF, this year's nominees include the likes of Erik B and Rakim and Mariah Carey and Sade, acts that not only have nothing to do with rock and roll, but simply do not deserve enshrinement.

Sure, there are one or two acts nominated that probably do deserve to be in there--Peter Frampton, and I guess I will go out on a limb and say Cher, who really should not go in without Sonny--but this year's list is about as weak as my bad leg is ... the only difference being that my bad leg will get better, but at this rate, the RRHoF will never improve.

Choices are made having little to nothing to do with the music, but the ad rates and revenue thst the broadcast of the enshrinement show will.have featuring certain performers over others.

What the RRHoF needs at this point in time is an eras committee, one each for the 1950s. 1960s and 1970s, that would convene on a revolving basis to choose an honoree from the respective era.

The Bsseball.HoF has this, and it has worked out fine, even though yes, it is kind of a back door way into getting into the HoF.

I mean, c'mon ... Sinead O'Connor?

I rest my case.

Rant #3,287: i Want To Hold Your Hand

I simply cannot believe that today, 60 years ago, the Beatles fully invaded America with their new sound and their new look, and appeared on "The Ed Sullivan Show" for the very first time.

I was six years old going on seven, and my family was in our last months living in Kew Gardens Hills, Queens.

We had a Dumont black and white TV in the living room of our apartment, and as was customary at that time, my family crowded around that TV on Sunday night at 8 p.m. to watch the Sullivan show, but on this night. Things were different--and the seismic changes that took place on thst evening continue to reverberate to this day.

The hype was set earlier in the week when these four moptops from England jetted into New York, and finally, it was time for their time to do their thing.

And POW!--when Sullivan mush-mouthed whatever he said to intriloduce them related to Elvis Presley, and through all the girls yelling and screaming and crying and hooting and hollering--John, Paul, George and Ringo hit the bull's eye, and nothing was ever the same anymore.

They came on with "All My Loving," moved on with "Till There Was You," left the stage and later, came back with "I Saw Her Sranding There," and concluded with "I Want To Hold Your Hand."

Beatlemania had begun, and it hasn't really stopped.

Everything that could possibly interest anyone--from bobble heads to Beatle wigs to hairspray, in addition to every kind of recording imaginable--was released in the wake of the Beatles' appearance, and while most of these releases alluded to just how much of a fad this could be, Lennon, McCartney, Harrison and Starr proved just the opposite.

The music endured, and as Baby Boomers like me were growing up, the Beatles' music grew up with us.

Remember, there was just a scant four years between "I Want To Hold Your Hand" abd "Hey Jude."

While the band would appear on the Sullivan show a few more times in 1964, that first appearance--seen by upwards of 73 million viewers--was the one that most of us remember.

I know I watched the show, and I know I really liked what I heard ... and it opened the door fir me to the British Invasion acts thst followed, like the Dave Clark Five, Herman's Hermits, the Animals and the Rolling Stones.

We, as a nation, needed the Beatles. They came at the right time and the right place, just three months after President John F. Kennedy was assassinated.

Sure, there were a number of other acts on thst February 9 show--including the cast of the Broadway hit "Oliver " featuring a young Davy Jones just two years before he became a major pop star himself as a member of the Monkees--but the full focus was on.those lads from Liverpool.

It is 60 years since that appearance, but the Bestles remain perhaps the most iconic pop/rock group in history.

They even had an AI driven hit "Now and Then" last year, a song which is as far from "I Want To Hold Your Hand" as "Sympathy For the Devil" is from "The Lord's Prayer."

I was just six years old, but thus little kid--who just three month's earlier had sat transfixed to the same Dumont TV when TV news was itself transfixed with the Kennedy assassination and its aftermath--knew thst this show was something way different--and bigger--than the usual Sullivan show.

And now, this 66 yesr old still cannot fully take in just how important thst night was, not just to me but to our country and to our society and to our civilization.

Have a great weekend, and I will speak to you again on Monday.

Rant #3,286: Name of the Game

My physical therapy went very well yesterday, and I am moving along at a great pace to my ultimate goal, which is to get better.

But as I now sit here relaxing after a somewhat strenuous workout, I am watching some TV to relax

I remember being told that the most difficult part of my entire injury episode would be the rehab ... the physical therapy.

Physical therapy in the house.wasn't too terrible. But now I have moved up to the big leagues, and my physical therapy is held outside the house at a facility where 20 or so people at a time go to get better.

I went yesterday, and I did all the exercises I was given to do.

Some were fairly easy, some were strenuous, but they were all for my betterment.

Specifically, all of the exercises were designed to allow my left knee to bend again, and have the freedom.of movement that I had lost when I was injured.

I.lifted my leg, bent my knee ever so slightly, and while I did not work up much of a sweat, it was quite a workout.

My driving factor is my need to get better, and with all the progress I have already made and will make with this therapy, the therapist told me that I might be given the green light to drive by April.

I am personally shooting for April 28, which would be the occasion of my 67th birthday.

That would be the best present I could get on that day, and more importantly, it will be a major milestone in the long road that I have to navigate to get better and to return to normal.

So let's see how it all works out; I know it won't be easy, but I know that I am going to do it.

And it comes later than April 28, I will deal with it.

Wish me luck.

Rant #3,285: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Allergy shots.

I am starting out this Rant with that phrase as hose shots had been a major part of my life up until I first injured myself at the end of September of last year.

I always had allergies; not any food problems, but the usual hay fever, seasonal-type allergies, but times 1,000.

My mother often said thst she thought I was born with allergies, and from infancy on through my teenage years, I flat out suffered ... and there was pretty much little to nothing that I could do about it, because the study of allergies was in its early stages as I went from childhood to my young teenage years.

Finally, in 1972, at 15 years old, the study of the type of allergies that I had progressed to the point that a test had been developed to  determine what people like me were allergic to.

I took the test--known as the "staple gun" test, as your arms were literally punctured with chemicals during the testing--and it was found that I was allergic to the entire fall season, horses, something called the Jerome bush, and several other things.

And with thst determination, I began my more than 50-year practice of getting allergy shots each and every month.

I got either one, two or three shots in my arm for the next 50-plus years, never missing a month, so from the age of 15 through the age of about 66 and a half, i got shots each and every month.

And they helped me to cope with this curse to the extent thst it just became part of my health regimen.

Then at the end of September 2023 I injured myself about a week after I had gotten my monthly shots, and for the past five months or so, I have gone without my shots.

There have just been too many things going on all at once, and with my wife doing all of the heavy lifting, there has not been the time to go out of our way to western Nassau County.to get the shots.

I figured I woukdcresume the shots when I was able to drive myself to the allergist office to get them, but--

Early on, I felt I was doing well without the shots; in fact, doctors suggest thst you take breaks where you don't take the shots, giving your body a pause in this treatment.

But lately, I notice that things have gone south.

I am blowing my nose a bit more, I am clearing my throat more than I had been doing, I am shorter in breath on occasion, and when you add everything up, I think the time has come to restart the shots.

I called up the allergist yesterday morning, and since I took such a break from the shots, I will have to be re-tested.

It is not as bad as it was 50 yesrs ago, where the test left my arms pockmarked for weeks on end; I believe it is a blood test, so it shouldn't be too bad.

So I will have that test done next week, and with me going through other tests with my new doctor and my physical therapy, next week.promises to be a very busy week for me health-wise.

But at the end of all of this, I know I will be much better off in the long run ...

Now thst I can figuratively breathe better that the house has been sold, I will be able to literally breathe better when I start getting the shots again.

Onward and upward!

Rant #3,284: Medicine Man

Yesterday was an interesting day for me, as I had an appointment with a new doctor.

As you know, for the second time in the past 14 years, my doctor was cited for improprieties, and the entire practice was forced to close down a few weeks ago ... unbeknownst to any of the doctor's patients, as he was prohibited from contacting any one of us about what was going on.

So with no direction or warning at all, i.had to go out and find another doctor, and simply due to destination and his carriage of my health insurance, I chose one out of the blue, and Monday was my day to give him a trial run.

The parking at the facility was atrocious--my wife had to.park around the corner on a residential street--and the building is poorly set up, as his suite number gives one the impression that the office is on the first floor, but it isn't.

My wife could not find parking, so she dropped me off in front as she looked for a space.

An older Asian woman saw me coming, and held the door for me to get into the building's vestibule, and again, since the suite number and floor number do not match, I asked the woman if she knew where I had to go.

She did not answer me.

I pressed the button for the elevator, and when the door opened, I asked the woman to hold the door while I got in.

After asking her to hold the door at lesst twice, it dawned on me that she did not understand a word i was saying to her.

By that time, my wife and two others entered the vestibule, and i was directed to where i hsd to go.

We finally got into the office and after more than an hour, we were ushered into the examination area. And while I was a bit perturbed st that point, when I finally met with the doctor, I was pleasantly surprised.at his composure.

I told him all about why I was there, and he took it all in stride, and even knew the names of the doctors who I had previously used

Overall, he was sort of old fashioned. But he is also very thorough, and after a number if tests, he was impressed with how healthy I was--other than my left leg--and most importantly, I was very impressed with him.

So, I finally have a new doctor!

He told me that there will be no.improprieties in his office, because his two children are lawyers!

I made some appointments for further tests, and we left there after being there for more than two hours.

But I guess it was all worth it ... although my wife wasn't as enamored with the doctor as I was due to the lack of parking-- although when we finally came out of the office, there were several open spots, so.maybe we just hit it wrong when we arrived there.

So now I have a doctor, and next up.on the agenda is tomorrow, when I go for my first outside the house physical therapy session.

I just can't wait!

Rant #3,283: Black Is Black

This was a pretty uneventful weekend for me as I push on in my rehab.

I watched plenty of TV, and I saw how we honor Black History Month.

I have a kind of love-hate relationship with celebrations of this sort.

I believe to just dedicate a single month to such a celebration, and laser focusing on, a single month on such a celebration, is kind of wrong.

I also think the media makes this celebration a punitive exercise rather than an educational one.

The constant pounding over the head that we get from the media about how we as a civilization, a country and as a world held bllacks down from the full human experience is overbearing and a bit difficult to process.

And it becomes an electronic pulpit to racism itself, totally denigrating all whites for holding blacks down.

If you want to have such a celebration, I would prefer one where no one is degraded, and you actually learn something from.

Thus, I have been quite pleased about how the Buzzr classic game show network has handled Black History Month.

What they have done is that throughout the month, they are highlighting game shows that featured black luminaries of their times in various segments of these shows.

And yes, in its own very minute, grandular way, it teaches you about black history in a very provacative, interesting way.

Yes, TV was quite segregated up to the late 1960s into the early 1970s, with blacks and non-whites featured few and far between on the networks and local stations.

And if you were Jewish, forget it ... you basically had to hide what you were and blend in with the existing WASP-y environment.

Things began to change very slowly in the late 1960s, and into the mid-1970s, you began to see more black abd minority representation on American TV, fueled by the success that Norman Lear had with shows where blacks were prominent characters.

But game shows were sort of slow to join the parade, and black representation was few and far between really into the late 1970s and into the 1980s.

For every Nipsey Russell appearance on "To Tell the Truth," there were a multitude of missed opportunities for blacks to make their presence felt on game shows.

But that doesn't mean that blacks weren't featured from time to time on these shows. 

And that is what Buzzr is highlighting this month--game show episodes which did feature blacks prominently in segments of these shows.

I saw one the other day that was quite interesting.

"I've Got a Secret," which was created by Allan Sherman, was an extremely popular game show in the 1960s.

The episode I saw was one that featured two segments featuring black performers.

Bookending a segment where a white scientist demonstrated a liquid he created that actually runs uphill--don't ask!--there was the first segment, where a kid's version of the Harlem Globetrotters was featured, and then the last segment, where Pesrl Bailey was featured, with comic impersonator George Kirby imitating her voice and singing style.

Steve Allen presided over all.of this, with a lily white cast of panelists-'including Betsy Palmer Bill Cullen and Henry Morgan--trying to figure out what the secrets were.

And interesting enough, the panel also featured Bess Myersom, one of the first Jewish celebrities to not hide her Jewishness.

The segments were quite interesting, although I doubt that either Bailey or Kirby would have been invited on the show as a panelist at that point in time.

This black and white episode, a kinescope of a color episide from 1967, taught me more than any hitting over the head we get today from the media during Black History Month.

And to think, it would still be.years before there was a black game show host--Adam Wade in the short-lived "Musical Chairs" in 1975.

I wish that the media would take a cue from how Buzzr is handling Black History Month and stop casting blame, teaching us while celebrating this month's honorees in a positive and educational way.

Rant #3,282: Happy Days Are Here Again (?)

Yes, this has been a pretty good couple of days for myself and my family.

On Thursday, I went to my doctor/surgeon to look over my progress from the surgeries I have had on my left leg.

I knew that personally, I felt a whole lot better, and was much more mobile thst I had been previously, but I really needed to hear it from him, the expert on my quad repair, to make sure I wasn't putting the cart before the horse.

Well, I am happy to report that I wasn't dreaming; I am getting better, the doctor was quite pleased with my progress, and he has allowed me to set up physical therapy outside the house.

Basically, my leg has to learn to bend at the knee again, and the outside physical therapist will give me exercises to do to make my leg more mobile.

This is going to be the toughest phase of my rehab, but I am ready for it I now it isn't going to be easy, because I haven't fully bent my leg in more than four months.

I have my first session with the outside physical therapist on Wednesday of next week, and I am raring to go.

But first, I have to go to my new doctor on Monday.

As you know, my regular doctor of the past 14 years or so abruptly went out of business several days ago due to some shenanigans in his office that we may never know the full story about.

My own insurance company flat out lied to me about how I could get my prescriptions filled, so I had to reach out to my current doctor--the one involved in this monkey business--to get my medication.

I have no idea if he can help me--he said he would--but at this point in time, i am between a rock and a hard place, so what do i have to lose that i havent already lost?

For the future, I need a doctor, so i am going to try out a local one on Monday.

Wish me luck.

But maybe my luck is turning positive, and with the house sold and me feeling better, maybe happy days are here again for myself and my family.

I sure hope so!

Have a great weekend, and I will speak to.you again on Monday.

Rant #3,281: Tell It To My Face

Today is a big day for me.

My doctor/surgeon is going to check out how my injury is, and hopefully, he will allow me to go to physical therapy outside the house.

This would be a huge step for me, as it will eventually lead to exercises where I will be able to bend my left leg, something I haven't been able to do since I injured myself back in September.

I have already had physical therapy inside.the house, but getting it at a facility outside is so important.

This is the next step on my quest to walk again, so yes, today is a really big day for me.

I went to the eye doctor yesterday, wrote up that virtual conference I had to cover for work, and I have to tell you, my left leg is stiff as can be.

You can't imagine how difficult it is to keep your leg from bending while you are doing all.of this, even if it is in a brace that forces it to be stationary.

So keep me in your thoughts today.

And yesterday, I paid the absolutely last bill.i had to pay for the old house. 

It was for National Grid, and it even said "Final Bill," so i am sure this is the LAST one.

So that should finally close the book.on my family's relationship with that dwelling.

Let's hope that that truly is the end of that.

It's enough already.

But who knows ... would I really be surprised if I get another one?

No, not really.

Nothing surprises me anymore.