Rant #3,362: Sledgehammer

Today, I would like to talk about the concept of "pain" on a variety of levels.

I suffered a little bit of a setback at physical therapy yesterday--

But that being said, I am not that concerned.

Sitting flat on my bed about two hours before my session, I felt pain in my left leg--specifically in my left knee--for the very first time since this nightmare began all those many months ago.

It came so suddenly--and left equally as quickly--that I barely had time to think about it.

It was not excruciating pain, but it was pain--

And it came back two more times before I went to physical therapy--again, not excruciating, but when you haven't felt any pain in the effected area for so many months--or ever, in my case--it does make you sit up and take notice.

I went to physical therapy, went on the stationary bike, and I was in a bit of pain, and could not propel the the bike at the level which I had reached just the other day: 17/18.

The bike was adjusted, and I almost forced myself to propel the bike's pedals forward at 18, but I did it.

My entire leg felt very tired as I moved from the bike to do my other exercises, and my leg hurt when I did the leg press.

I was not only given ice when my session was over after about an hour and 45 minutes--which is normal for the end of my session--but my leg was hooked up to a machine, with electrodes on my knee, to further soothe that area.

When I drove home to drop my wife off and then drove to pick up my son from work, I felt the knee pain two or three additional times.

Later, i went on the computer for about an hour and 45 minutes, I felt the knee pain two or three times, and afterward into the night, I felt the pain a couple of times.

My physical therapist said that she believes that I have scar tissue in my knee--the doctor said the same thing when I saw him a few weeks ago--and thst I might be feeling that.

She also said that after all of these months since the injury, my leg might actually be getting better--which it is--and that all the natural connections in the knee are beginning to function again, and that is why I might be feeling some minor pain in that area for the very first time.

i know that I am moving around a bit more with the injury, even when I am in bed.

i can kind of sleep on my left and right sides now--

One of the reasons i was not sleeping was because for the first six months of this nightmare, i could only sleep on my back, which was totally uncomfortable for me.

Now, i am bouncing around a little more, and i even brushed into my wife while sleeping on Wednesday night, each time waking myself up but happily, my wife didnt get up.

The physical therapist believes that all of this activity might have "woken up" various connections in my knee, and the pain i am feeling at very quick intervals might not necessarily be a "bad" thing.

Nonetheless, whether good or bad, I now have to take notice of it, because it is something that i am not used to.

I am not worried; I felt a wee bit of pain in my left knee before all of this happened, caused by bursitis, so perhaps this malady has reared its ugly presence again.

No pain, no gain, I guess.

If it was constant pain, then I would be concerned, but it comes and goes at such brief intervals that I will get through it.

If I am getting through all that I have been through, these brief blips are certainly not going to stop me.

And I know, the pain, the pain ...

The pain I have is nothing like the pain former President Trump is feeling as he heard the guilty verdict on all 34 counts of felony charges that were launched against him.

That pain is different than what I have, but like me, the pain that he is suffering when these verdicts were made will all turn into gravy later on.

Not only won't he ever see a jail cell--the logistics of jailing him would be impossible to navigate, so I believe he will get probation when he is sentenced in July--but in several months, he will call the White House home again--

As I am convinced now, more than ever, that he will be our next president.

All these guilty verdicts do--however valid they are--is to make him a more sympathetic figure than he already was, and even though I won't vote for him under any circumstances, you just know that Trump will make diamonds from coal.

Like I have said about myself and now about Trump--

No pain, no gain.

Take that opinion for what it is, but we have six months to decide if we want a convicted felon as our president, versus an extremely weak president who is running a country that is fractured, at best.

On November 5, people will decide whether this trial's result was important enough to derail a presidential bid, or not.

However horrible I feel about saying this, I think not.

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

Rant #3,361: A New World Record

Something monumental happened in the world of sports yesterday.

Major League Baseball believes it is righting a wrong that has festered for the past century, and it is now integrating Negro Leagues statistics into its overall statistics.

Up until the Brooklyn Dodgers and Jackie Robinson integrated the major leagues in 1947, black ballplayers and white ballplayers could not play on the same field at the same time.

For a couple of decades, black ballplayers could play in the Negro Leagues, a somewhat loose conglomeration of leagues and teams that served as the only outlet that black ballplayers could play professionally in.

As heinous as this situation was, the major leagues and the Negro Leagues co-existed, but once Robinson broke the color barrier, it was just a matter of time before the Negro Leagues were no more.

Anyway, some great players came out of the Negro Leagues, including Cool Papa Bell, Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson.

And like the major leagues, the Negro Leagues had its own set of statistics, and that is the gist of this Rant today.

Major League Baseball has decided to incorporate the Negro League statistics into its own statistics, and this has turned the overall statistical landscape on its ear.

For instance, for a century, Ty Cobb has been the undisputed batting leader in the major leagues, with a lifetime .367 batting average.

Now that the Negro League statistics are being incorporated into the overall statistical landscape, Josh Gibson has supplanted Cobb as the all-time batting leader, at .372.

And that is just the tip of the iceberg ...

Other long-standing records will be smashed to bits, and the whole situation has become a slippery slope based on the numbers.

Look, nobody is saying that the Negro Leagues weren't real major leagues, and its players were not as talented as those players playing in the major leagues.

To have been barred from playing in the major leagues simply because of one's skin color is disgraceful, and no one is arguing that that horrid situation was the right way to go.

My consternation with this is that statistical information from the Negro Leagues is spotty at best, as statistics were not well kept or well recorded.

Let's go back to Gibson.

He reportedly hit more than 800 home runs during his Negro League career, but Major League Baseball only tecognizes 166 of them.

What constitutes a "recognized" home run versus an "unrecognized" one, and how could more than 600 homers not be recognized?

That, in itself, seems to make all Negro League records somewhat questionable.

Major League Baseball has evidently done its homework, weeding through what statistics are available and made records official for 2,300 players who played in that league during its more than 30 years of existence.

My problem with this is that it legitimizes some very spotty records, and makes them equal to records that are basically set into granite.

Negro League teams often barnstormed across the country, and often played highly questionable games against highly questionable teams.

Since the record keeping was so spotty, it is very difficult to tell whether the records of these players are fully accurate.

But again, Major League Baseball said its years of research have weeded out the truth from the falsehoods, and that the statistics they have now are fully legitimate.

And then, we have the case of Ty Cobb, once arguably baseball's best hitter.

Cobb was supposedly a racist of the highest magnitude, and now, his batting average was eclipsed ... by a black man.

Was this inclusion done to simply negate the career of baseball's top hitter? Does baseball want a racist to hold such a record?

Was Cobb's racism endemic of the period he lived in, however heinous his beliefs were?

I saw a report on this situation, where a white man basically stated that since Cobb was known as a racist, he finally got is comeuppance with the inclusion of Gibson's records.

Is that what baseball wants, or do they simply want to right a wrong ... sounds like a bit of "cancel culture" to me.

Look, all baseball statistics before 1947 and Jackie Robinson's breaking the color barrier were skewered, because white players could not play against black players and black players could not play against white players.

So Babe Ruth could not hit against the greatest black pitchers like Satchel Paige in a legitimate contest; nor could Josh Gibson hit against the greatest white pitchers, including Christy Matthewson, in a legitimate contest.

That is the way it was, and however wrong that was, the slope is even more slippery now that the Negro League statistics have been fully incorporated into the overall statistical mosaic.

Would Gibson have hit .372 against the best white players and teams? 

Would Cobb have hit .367 against the best black players and teams?

We will never know, but Major League Baseball thinks it is important to make what Gibson did equal, and on the level, of what Cobb did.

Of the four major sports in this country, Major League Baseball has seen the most drastic fall of black athletes partipating at this level than the other sports, which have experienced increases in black participation.

Although many of these statistics are also somewhat questionable, I have read that from the 1970s through the 1990s, blacks made up about 40 percent of all major league players, but that percentage has fallen at least 10 percent, to 30 percent, in the years afterward.

Some baseball historians claim thst these numbers are also skewered, because black Hispanic players had been considered to be "black" at one time.

Was Roberto Clemente "black?"

Now, with the inclusion of Negro League statistics into the mix, is baseball acknowledging the decline of black athletes in its rolls, and trying to get that part of the population intetested in baseball again?

And will any blowback about these records' inclusion be called "racist?"

You be the judge whether this is the correct approach, or whether there is something else going on here.

Personally, I simply don't know.

Rant #3,360: Bat-Man

I had another good physical therapy session on Tuesday. 

I have to say that I am really surprising myself with what I can do ...

But I know there are many more challenges that I need to hurdle.

On another note, I just heard that there is a terror threat against the cricket match planned to be held in a few weeks right in my neck of the woods on Long Island.

Nassau County's Eisenhower Park is the site of the match, which will be held in a prefabricated, modular stadium that will be taken down after the cricket championships are held there.

One match, in particular, thst has gotten the terrorists all bent out of shape is the India-Pakistan match.

The stadium seats about 34,000 fans, and upwards of a billion people are going to be watching on television around the world, so authorities believe thst these terrorists--Isis this time--want maximum bang for their buck, and their threats are meant to rile up these crazy idiots around the world.

I have to tell you, I know absolutely nothing about cricket.

I know that it is sort of a distant cousin of baseball, but I don't know much else about the sport, which is evidently immensely popular around the world.

I saw the bats that they use to play the game, and they appear to be thicker than baseball bats--

And let me tell you, if anyone gets out of line, these cricket bats would be perfect to take out any of these terrorists.

One hit to the head is all it would take!

But all kidding aside, these terrorists must be taken seriously.

They exist because the supposedly civilized world cannot--or will not--galvanize themselves together to get rid of these groups once and for all.

Just look at what Hamas has wrought in the Middle East ...

If the supposedly civilized world would have gotten together the day after the massacre Hamas perpetrated on innocent Israelis, nothing of what has happened afterward would have taken place.

But the supposedly civilized world let this cancer grow, and now, there is no turning back.

The window of opportunity is pretty much closed right now.

And what's worse, we have people in this country who appear to be terrorist groupies, who look at organizations like Hamas and Isis as humanitarian organizations.

I don't get it ... but you let this cancer fester, the illness spreads, and it becomes terminal.

We live in a bizzaro world right now, where right is wrong and wrong is right.

It is up to the supposedly civilized world to do something about this situation, but all they do is sit on their hands or participate in completely useless exercises--

Like recognizing a Palestinian State that will never exist because Hamas--and the Palestinians thenselves--don't want it.

They want the annihilation of Isrsel and all Jews, and the creation of a state simply won't do the job.

Why the supposedly civilized world keeps pushing this idiotic agenda--when the very people that it would generally affect don't want it--is beyond any thinking person's comprehension.

Heck, I don't understand cricket either, but there is no way I want to understand what drives people to be terrorists and to despise a specific population to the extent that they would sacrifice their own people to reach their goals.

The end justifies the means?

Yes, a cricket paddle applied to all the right places might just work--

Or it might just not.

Rant #3,359: Give Me Love (Give Me Peace On Earth)

How was your Memorial Day weekend?

I had a bit of a frustrating weekend; it wasn't terrible, but I guess you would call it annoying.

My family and i went to get an air conditioner, and while we did buy one, we found that it was not a good fit for what we needed it for, so we returned it.

As I had mentioned in the previous Rant, we need air conditioners for our bedrooms, as they are not provided by the development we live in.

And to add insult to injury, we cannot put them in our windows, because the development has rules about keeping air conditioners in windows year-round.

So we have decided to try a small, portable unit, and we await its arrival in the mail.

We were eating dinner on Saturday evening, and I bit down on an onion ring, and a crown from the top left side of my mouth came out.

I retrieved it, and on Sunday morning, off I went to one of those walk-in dentists.

I was pretty much in and out of there, and they were able to get my crown back in my mouth.

To bide my time this weekend, I watched a lot of baseball, digitized some records, and found that I can even do more on my own related to my condition.

Among the things I can do is to get both my shoes on my feet without help.

What I still cannot do is to get my sock on my left foot.

My range of motion still isn't at that level, so my wife has to help me with that daily exercise 

It is very frustrating, but I am getting there ... it is just going to take some time.

We tried to join a local pool.for the summer season, but unbeknownst to us, the pool doesn't open for another month, so we will just have to wait.

On the actual holiday, I needed to pick up a prescription on Memorial Day, which I did, and then I filled my car up with gas.

Since I was in the area, I decided to go to my local record store, bought a couple of things, and came home.

And for our Memorial Day dinner, we went out to a local diner and had a pretty good meal.

For the first time in memory, i could not finish what i ordered, a testament to the fact that since my injury, i have lost some weight.

i simply can't eat as much as i once did.

But more importantly, this mealthsat we ate out was the first time we have been out for dinner in a restaurant since my injury, so I jumped over another hurdle without even thinking about it too much.

Again, not a memorable Memorial Day weekend, but I did what I could do to make it as relaxing as possible.

Talking about relaxation ...

And yes, I watched enough professional wrestling to satisfy me for the rest of the year ... well, maybe didn't watch it, but slept through much of the two pay per views and the other shows that were on TV this weekend.

Like I said, relaxing enough to fall asleep on.

So, while this holiday weekend wasn't one that I will fondly look back on, even with the frustrations, I guess I did relax and do what I wanted to do--

And we can thank our service men and women for their duty, which allows us to do what we want to do when we want to do it.

And to those who made the ultimate sacrifice, we owe them everything.

I spoke to a former service member for a brief moment on the holiday.

A Vietnam War veteran, he told me that all he thinks about on the holiday are those who he knew that didn't make it back home.

And he is right in his thinking.

Sure, we had problems with buying an air conditioner ... I lost my crown ... I still cannot do basic things like I used to.

It is all very frustrating, but those who served our country--

Well, it all pales in comparison to the service our military members provide to this country.

To those men and women, I salute each and every one of you.

Rant #3,358: Up, Up and Away

Today is the Friday before Memorial Day, and everyone seems to be getting busy as we approach the unofficial beginning of summer.

I think we often forget what Memorial Day is all about.

What we think it is about--picnics, swimming, barbecues, vacationing and the summer--are only byproducts of what the day is really all about.

Let’s go back to what I said about the holiday and its true meaning. Here is an edited version of what I wrote about the holiday in Rant #970, May 24, 2013:

“Coming up on Monday is Memorial Day, the day we honor those who have served, and gave their lives, for our country in the numerous wars we have fought leading up to our country's creation in 1776 and beyond.

Once known as Decoration Day, the holiday falls every year on the last Monday in May.

In recent years--or for as long as I can remember--Memorial Day has taken on a different meaning.

Not to knock our service men and women--who continue to protect our country from unimaginable peril each and every day--the holiday means so many other things now.

First of all, many of us have off on that day.

Memorial Day also signals the beginning of the summer season.

Notice I say "the summer season," because summer actually doesn't come for several weeks after, in late June. But it signals warmth, hot nights and days, and so the holiday is thought of as sort of a gateway to summer and all the fun that that season brings.

And finally, Memorial Day generally signifies the day when many of us have our very first barbecue of the year.

Honestly, I can taste those hot dogs right now!"

We should thank our service members for allowing us to live the way we do, and for the privileges that we have because of their sacrifices.

To me, Memorial Day of last year was a barbecue day, the final barbecue i will ever grill at, because our current development doesn't really have a place where we can do this privately.

They have an area for picnics and barbecues, but it isnt private, and if i am going to do that, i might as well do it at a nesrby park ... which at this point on my life, isn't happening.

Last year's final barbecue included my mom, and within three months or so, she had left us.

She always enjoyed barbecues, so I am happy that we had that last one, for her.

Otherwise, as I said yesterday, my family and I are going to be looking for portable air conditioners this weekend, and hopefully, there will be holiday sales to help us out a little bit.

Otherwise, this is what my family calls "a lucha weekend," which means that there will be professional wrestling all weekend, via two pay-per-view shows, and you just know that my son will be watching these from beginning to end.

Me, I will try to watch, but I am sure I will also be on snooze control during these events, as I usually fall asleep during these shows.

We will ne nearer to the annual Bethpage Air Show than ever before, and as I write this Rant out, the Blue Angels pilots are practicing their maneuvers right above us.

Talk about onward and upward!

So this weekend will be what it is and has always been ...

But let's give our servicec men and women the salute that they deserve, because without their efforts, we would be nowhere.

Have a great weekend and a super holiday, and I will speak to you again on Tuesday.

Rant #3,357: Hot Blooded/Cold As Ice

Yesterday was a lot quieter day for me, but I was pretty busy with work as Memorial Day approaches.

But the day didn't start out that well.

During the evening, it was really warm in our apartment.

We do have an air conditioner in the living room that is built in and provided by our apartment complex, but there are no air conditioners in either bedroom, so sleeping wasn't too good on Tuesday evening into Wednesday morning.

Each brdroom--and the living room--has a fan, but all it was doing was pushing hot air around.

I slept about five hours, but I woke up at 2:30 a.m., and I was a bit uncomfortable.

After trying to get back to sleep and failing miserably, I went into the living room, where it was a little cooler, but I could not fall back asleep.

I didn't put the living room air conditioner on, because I wasn't sure how it worked, and I did not want to learn I'm the middle of the night.

One thing led to another, and I ended up back in the bed, and I must have fallen back asleep at about 3:30 a.m., waking up sometime after 6 a.m., so I guess I did sleep to an extent--

But I told my wife that this weekend, we need to buy two air conditioners, one for each bedroom.

Not only am I overheated when it is so warm in the house, but my bad allergies become worse.

The problem is that our development does not allow permanent window air conditioners, so we are going to have to investigate air conditioners that are on wheels and/or don't need to be put in the window, those of the portable kind.

My wife and I know next to nothing about these, but we do know that there are several different types of these air conditioners, including some that operate as a regular air conditioner does and others where you have to manually load in water and/or ice for the unit to do its thing.

But whatever one we get, we do need something to cool down the bedrooms.

Hopefully, there will be some holiday sales this weekend, and we won't have to spend too much to cool us down.

I have had an air conditioner in my bedroom since 1964, so I am so used to the air conditioning that I simply can't live without it ... comfort concerns and health concerns notwithstanding.

I still think the air conditioner is one of the greatest inventions of all time, and I don't think I would have made it this far without air conditioning cooling me down.

Summer is just about here, and while I enjoy the warm weather, I don't handle it as well as others do ... but when I feel that cool air on my skin, I know that I will be OK.

Rant #3,356: God Only Knows

I am back!

I had kind of a strange day on Tuesday.

I did all the normal things that I do during weekdays since I have returned to driving, but I had one extra task to do, one that wasn't planned.

I went to pick up my son at work, and as I always do, as I waited for him, I read a book, poring through the pages as a beautiful, sunny day engulfed my car.

About five minutes before he was to come out, I took a peak at my car's dashboard, and one of the warning lights was on.

Unlike my previous car, this car did not tell me right away what the problem was, as there was no message on my dashboard alerting me to the exact problem.

I shut the car off, put it on again, and for a brief few moments, the car did alert me that the rear passenger side tire was very low in tire pressure.

Everything was OK when I got into the car, but not at that moment, so when my son came out from work, we went to a gas station to put air into the tire--which by the way, now costs $1.50 to do.

I took my son along with me, rather than take him home first, because I honestly did not think I would be able to get down low enough to put air in the tire ...

But God has a funny way of doing things, and lo and behold, I was able to do this without too many problems--

But the problem was not my ability to put air in the tire, but the ability of the tire to hold the air--which it didn't do.

My son and I drove to a local tire shop, and lo and behold, I had a nail in my tire, and after thinking that I probably needed a new tire--and concerned with the cost--all that needed to be done was to get rid of the nail and plug up the hole.

We were out if the shop within about an hour ... with my wallet intact, if you know what I mean.

I had a bundle of work to do today, so I really had a full day.

But again, in a funny way, I now know that I can get down low enough to pump air into my tire, and you can bet that if this happened a month ago, my son would have had to do the job for me--

So I am thinking that this all happened for a reason, and while it is never fun to have a flat tire, maybe this one produced the biggest smile on my face because I could actually put air in my car's tire without help--

And the repair price was certainly something that made me happy, because I thought that the damage would cost me a lot more.

Yes, I know, it is funny what puts a smile on my face during this period of my life, but again, I am taking "baby steps" in my recovery right now, and I guess taking care of a nail in my tire has to be looked at as one of those "baby steps."

What other activities do I still need to conquer?

Right now, God only knows.

Rant #3,355: Day By Day

I had a good weekend, and I know that I am getting better each and every day.

I really pushed myself on Sunday.

In the morning, I went to a local record show, and although I only spent about 45 minutes there, it was time well spent.

First and most important, I proved to myself that I could move around in a crowd pretty well, even with my cane in hand.

The place was packed with record collectors like me, I got there early, and I managed pretty well, moving around well and being able to worm my way through the crowd.

I found some really interesting records--one of which is at the top of this Rant--didn't spend too much money, but admittedly, it took me less than an hour to become pretty pooped.

I was looking through a row of records from a particular vendor, and I struck up a conversation with someone else doing the same thing.

We talked about records, but also spoke about our health, and after finishing about three rows of records from this particular vendor, I said to the fellow record collector, "I think I've had enough."

He replied, " Are you sure ... you didn't look at these other rows."

I said to him, " That's OK. I 'm tired," and he replied, "I completely understand."

I wished him luck, he wished me the same, and I left.

I really had had enough, but I proved to myself that I could do it.

About an hour after I came home, my family and I went out east to the Jamesport Brewery, which is about 90 minutes to two hours away from where we are.

It is at the end of Long Island, and we met my wife's two brothers and their spouses for a relaxing afternoon.

We managed to get there in less than an hour and a half, due to the overcast weather and the fact that we are a week before Memorial Day, so the roads were pretty empty.

It is a nice place to go, even if you don't imbibe, and we had a nice afternoon just socializing.

This was by far the longest trip I had made since resuming my driving a little more than a month ago, and I had absolutely no.problems at all handling the long drive, which was more than 100 miles round trip.

So everything went fine for me this Sunday, even though I was unhappy that the New York Knicks lost to the Indiana Pacers and are out of the NBA playoffs.

Injuries did them in ... and I have first-hand experience as to what injuries can do to not just the affected part of your body, but to your mental wellness and to your soul, so I do feel for them ...

But now it is baseball 24/7, and the New York Yankees are playing great baseball, winning their seventh straight game on Sunday.

I guess you can't have it all, but as far as myself, I am working hard to get it all, and Sunday proved that I am one step closer to doing just that.

I intend to defy the odds, and I simply feel that nothing will stand in my way.

There still is a lot of work to do, but I do believe that I can do it.

I know I sound like a broken record as I keep on saying this ... I might skip a little bit, but I won't break in my determination to get back as close to where I was prior to the accidents I had.

And each week, I prove to myself that I am on the right road, and if, like yesterday, that i have to drive over 100 miles to prove it to myself, then so be it.

I am more than up to the task.

I have a conference to cover for work, so I won't be at my normal perch tomorrow.

I will speak to you again on Wednesday.

Rant #3,354: Rock You Like a "Hurri-Cane"

I received the OK from my doctor/surgeon to get rid of the crutches and use the cane--

In fact, he was surprised that, at this point, I was using anything to help me get around.

And ironically, when I put gas in my car this morning prior to going to the doctor, I forced myself to not use anything when I paid the clerk.

It was rainy and windy, and I just took everything extra slow.

There was a sobering moment with the doctor.

He looked me over, asked me how I felt as I moved my leg around, and he said to me the following:

"You are doing fine. I don't think it would pay to open you up again and clean away anything in there.

"This might be as good as it gets for you. Just keep going to physical therapy and see how it all works out."

I am not in pain ... in fact, I am darn lucky, because many people are in a lot of pain with this injury.

Do I feel it? 

You bet I do. There is a definite difference between my right leg, the good one, and the left leg, the bad one.

Right now as I am typing this out, I feel a little throbbing in the left leg.

But if this is as good as it gets, I can live with it.

However, I am now out to prove to the doctor that there is still a lot of improvement that I can experience, and the way I feel now is just a stepping stone to me reaching the next level of my rehab ... 

And how I feel now is not "as good as it gets."

There is still more good coming, if I continue to work like I am doing.

I am never going to feel like I was 25 years of age again, but you never know ... I will take the reverse--age 52--and take it from there.

I helped my wife do some food shopping after seeing the doctor, and after paying for what we purchased, I inadvertently dropped some change on the floor.

I would be lying if I said that it was easy bending down as far as I could to retrieve the coins, but I managed to get them all, even though admittedly, I did feel it a bit afterward.

But I was able to do it, and that is something that there is no way I could have done just a few weeks back.

Maybe the doctor was using reverse psychology when he stated that the way I am now might be "as good as it gets," but whatever the case, I am going to use that as motivation to not accept this, and when I see him again in August, I am going to be a whole lot better than I am now.

As I mentioned, I can live with it as it is, but I won't accept this until I have to accept this--

And I am far from being at that point now.

Onward and upward!

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

Rant #3,353: You Better You Bet

Today is a big day in my rehabilitation.

I see my surgeon/doctor today, and he will tell me how I am doing and what my next step--literally--is.

I last saw him about two months ago, and so much has changed--and improved--during those 60 or so days.

My left leg has improved to the point that I can get in and out of the car and drive; I can walk without a walker or crutches; and every time I go to physical therapy, I seem to shatter one previous personal milestone and create a new one to obliterate.

Mind you, I have quite a way to go in my rehab, and it really will not be until the late fall through the middle of the winter before I can even dream of being "cured" of this thing ... if at all.

I have a long way to go, and I know it, but with the proper physical therapy and exercise at home--and with my family supporting me 1,000 percent--I think I am at least on the road to doing it.

I am hoping the doctor will give me a green light to use a cane, and that will definitely be a major next "step" in this rehab.

Funny, for 50 years, my family had a backyard pool for fun and entertainment during the hot summer months, but now, in our new residence, this community really has no amenities, and thus, no pool.

I really could use it now as an element in my rehab program, but in lieu of not having one when I need it the most, my wife and I are probably going to check into getting membership in one of the town pools.

It is not as good, not as private or intimate, but rehabbing my left leg in the water might just be a beneficial thing for me.

The water resistance will certainly build up my left leg muscles, and that will help me reach my rehab goals.

But--and I keep having to tell myself this--I can't rush things, I can't put the cart before the horse ...

Let's see what the doctor says today, and then I can go on from there.

It is going on seven months since I first hurt myself, and six months since I hurt myself for the second time, so I am really only just about at the cusp of the seven-to-12 month prognosis I received at the get go.

And sure, I am constantly reminded that I did what I did, as the leg doesn't feel as carefree as my right one does, and I have that six-inch scar as a constant reminder of what happened.

When I go to physical therapy twice a week, I always see people who can say they have "been there, done that" when they see what I am going through.

I look at them, and I say to myself, "That is where I want to be," as I see them moving around freely.

And I do believe that somewhere down the line, someone will look at me, and think that same "That is where I want to be" thing that I am thinking now.

I have to think this way ...

Any other thoughts are untenable and unthinkable right now.

Let me get permission to ditch my crutches, and then I can take this whole shebang to the next level, literally one step at a time.

Rant #3,352: Happy

And today is another anniversary day for myself and my family, but it is a much more solid--and substantial--occasion than what I described to you yesterday.

Today, 36 years ago, I became a father for the first time when my daughter was born.

It was a monumental occasion in my life, and just like I was the first in everything in my family when I was born, the same thing could be said for my daughter--

She was the first child, the first grandchild, the first great grandchild, the first daughter ... and her coming into this world was  really the first time I had to seriously think of somebody other than myself in my life.

It was a really happy time for me, but honestly, there was so much going on in my life at that time, looking back, it kind of blinded me to a lot of things that followed.

Here is a snippet about that period in my life from Rant #1,212, May 21, 2014.

"I remember the exact moment my life changed forever and I became a father.

I was there when she was born, and I was also there when they rushed my daughter to the hospital's intensive care unit.

It was done as a precaution. I won't go into the details, but I went from being a proud father to someone who did not know what was going on.

Again, without going into details, the doctor who delivered my daughter did something that he should not have done, and it nearly had harmful effects on my daughter.

He retired right after this birth, and I hope his retirement was better than his final delivery.

Anyway, when she was in the ICU, she was put between two boys who were no bigger than your fist.

I looked at her, I looked at them, and I knew my daughter would survive, because she was about five times the size of these two boys put together.

Although I never knew their names, I wonder if those kids survived as preemies.

Anyway, because my then-wife was so sick from the delivery and the incompetence of the doctor, I was the one who held my daughter first, who fed her, and who cleaned her.

My then-wife remained in the hospital while we brought my daughter home.

What happened happened between my then-wife and myself, but I always tried to be close with my daughter."

I am proud of my daughter and what she has subsequently accomplished in life, but somehow, I know I missed out on a lot of things when her mother and I divorced.

I tried to be as close to my daughter as possible, but for one reason or another, I was shut out of a lot of things due to what I will call "forces beyond my control."

None of the stuff that I went through would be acceptable today, but as the parent without physical custody--I did have joint custody--I was prevented from doing things related to my daughter, things thst simply would not be acceptable--and lawful--today.

But much of this happened in the 1990s, and things in the legal system having to do with parenting have changed so much in the past 30 years.

That being what it was, and is today, I have tried to be the best parent I can be to my daughter, but I always think I fall short of having that real father/daughter bond.

I saw my daughter on my birthday, but I have not seen my daughter on her own birthday for more than a decade, maybe going on nearly two decades.

I will text her a "Happy Birthday" wish a little later this morning, and I sent her a gift which she has acknowledged.

She has a successful career, lives with her boyfriend right here on Long Island, and I see her sparingly during the year, which means my son, her only sibling, hasn't really gotten to know her.

All this makes me sad, but if she is happy, then I am happy for her.

I hope she has a great birthday, and I hope she has many, many more.

Rant #3,351: Mickey

In my family, late April through pretty much all of May brings up one birthday or anniversary after another, and today, May 14, is another one of those days.

It is not a family member's birthday--another big one is still to come--but today is kind of a quasi-anniversary, all brought on by a bit of serendipity "created" courtesy of my late father.

My father was full of stories.

Whether he was speaking about his time growing up on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, his school days, the family's butcher shop on Delancey Street, his time in the Marines, or his more than 50 years driving a cab in Manhattan, my father had a story to tell.

How many of the stories were 100-percent true is another matter ... but the stories were fascinating, some were hilarious, others were poignant, and others were ...

Well, I don't have an proper adjective to describe some of the stories my father told us through the years.

But they were so vivid in his mind and the way he told them to us, I, personally, had no reason to doubt any of these stories.

Like they say, you can't make this stuff up.

And today is the 57th anniversary of one of them, and I have no doubt that it happened--

Because my father said it did.

And here is that story, which I am actually a part of, which makes it a bit more plausible to me, that it actually happened the way he described it.

Most sports fans look.at today as the 57th anniversary of Mickey Mantle's 500th home run, but I know a little bit more about it than even the biggest Mickey Mantle fan can ever even realize ...

Due to the supposed backstory of this achievement, as told by my father.

Let's go back to Rant #2,488, September 9, 2020, and rediscover that backstory.

And again, I have no reason to doubt one word of it.

"One of my father's great interests was sports, and he was a die-hard Yankees fan. Family lore has it that in May 1967, he picked up an obviously drunk Earl Weaver, the manager of the Baltimore Orioles whose team was in town to face the Yankees in a weekend series.

Weaver, the future Hall of Famer who was also known as a fierce drinker, had arrived in town a day early with his team, and even though it wasn't even the evening yet, he had tied on a big one on this particular day.

Hurling a cascade of expletives as my father pretty much carried him into his cab because he was so inebriated, my father realized who he had picked up and asked him a favor: he had purchased tickets for my birthday to see the Sunday, Mother's Day game at Yankee Stadium between the Yankees and the Orioles. Mickey Mantle was stuck at 499 home runs, and could one of his pitchers groove a pitch to Mantle so he could hit his 500th homer during the game that we attended?

Mantle was at the end of his career, he was old and broken down, but he was revered by other players as few players had been at that time. Pitchers would often groove pitches to the Mick to hit as homers by this time, literally so they could tell their children and future grandchildren that Mantle had hit one off of them, so my father wasn't asking anything out of the ordinary.

Weaver used one F-bomb after another in reply, coughing and gagging in between expletives as if he was going to upchuck anything he had previously imbibed.

Finally, my father got him to the hotel where the team was staying at, and he literally had to drag Weaver from the cab to the hotel doorman's feet, and he told the doorman, "He's your problem now."

That was on the Thursday off day. The Orioles and the Yankees played on Friday and Saturday, and the Mick was stuck at 499 homers.

Then came Mother's Day of 1967, a bright sunny day, and my father took me and two friends to Yankee Stadium to see that day's game.

Every time Mickey Mantle came up during the game, people--all 23,000 of us or so, filling about one-third of the Stadium--stood up, in anticipation for what we felt was a historic at bat.

I know that Mantle had one at bat early on, and I don't remember what he did, but by the middle of the game, Stu Miller, a pretty good pitcher in his day on excellent Oriole teams, was on the mound and Mantle came up to the plate.

After a few pitches, Miller threw another one to Mantle, a real meatball that even a vegan would jump at.

Mantle swung, the ball went into the rightfield seats, and the Yankee slugger jogged around the bases with his 500th home run, and the place went wild.

We will never know if Weaver did that to pay back my father for taking him while drunk as a skunk to his hotel, but it is a nice story to tell, and to believe if you want to."

That story has become part of family lore all these years later, and you can believe the backstory if you want to.

But what happened as a possible result of the backstory--one of the greatest baseball.players of all time reaching a monumental milestone--actually did happen, so if nothing else, today is the 57th anniversary of that accomplishment.

But in my family, today is the 57th anniversary of my father's little 15 minutes of fame in New York Yankees history, even though few people know about it--

And I am going to stick with it in that way.

Rant #3,350: Fountains

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How was your Mother's Day?

Ours was OK, pretty quiet, but it went well.

Today, I want to talk about something that kind of took me back to my younger days, although the subject, to me at least, is in the here and now.

I want to talk about ...

Fountains.

(No, not the water fountains that you drink from ... although, when you think about those type of fountains, isn't it incredible how we didn't get every disease known to man from drinking from these things?)

No, I want to talk about those huge, mainly decorative water fountains that dot the landscape here and there.

The reason that the types of fountains came up in my mind is that one such fountain in our new community was turned on the other day, and its presence brought me back to another time and place in my life.

We had seen workmen working on the fountain earlier last week, and we figured they were prepping it to start up again after a couple of months of cold weather hiatus, but instead of starting up again later this month on Memorial Day, it began its warm weather sprouts right now, as you can see in the photo.

This brought me back to another, more simpler time in my life.

Growing up in the Rochdale Village, South Jamaica, Queens, New York, apartment complex at the very onset of this community in the early to mid-1960s, we had two such fountains, which started up right when the warm weather began and signified the youth, vitality and endless possibilities of this new community.

One was close to Building 9, where I lived, and during those early days, when it went on, you knew that the summer, and those warm days and all the fun that that produced, was right around the corner.

I can remember playing stickball games in the park that adjoined Buildings 9 and 12, and if the wind hit the fountains just right, you could feel a wisp of water kiss your skin during those hot days and nights.

It really was a nice touch to this burgeoning neighborhood.

But of course, as went the community, so went the fountains.

Those fountains ran every summer for the first couple of years of the development, and it became a great hangout place for the residents, young and old and everyone in between.

But some people abused the fountain, vandalized it, throwing things into it, and occasionally throwing themselves into it.

(If I remember correctly, I also went into it once, on a dare.)

Although the neighborhood was a young one, by about 1968 or so, it was showing the ravages of the world we lived in.

Lots of changes were happening in New York City, and the infestation of drugs and crime had entered our community.

The schools were terrible, and the community became unsafe--

And all of this seemed to be reflected in the fountains, both of which were turned off for good in about 1969 or so, and were never turned back on again.

I remember walking past those shuttered fountains many times, and wondering why they were shut down, but being 12 years old and using my brain, I kind of knew the answer.

The hope and endless possibilities were great while they lasted, but honestly, by 1968 or 1969 or so, those dreams were pretty much gone, replaced by a survival mode that had overtaken our collective naivete.

My family, like many of the development's families, moved out of the neighborhood to Long Island in 1971--during the summer, of course--and I have no idea what happened to those fountains in the ensuing years, but I do know that when they originally shut down, it was like the fountains of hope and possibility of our community were turned off, never to return.

Flash forward to 2024--

My family and I are in a new community after a nightmare that began many months ago and continues to haunt us today to a certain degree.

We were looking for a new start, and the community we chose just happens to have a fountain of its own, right when you enter the apartment development.

But now, our new community's fountains are on full blast, and once again, I look at those fountains as a symbol of hope, one of endless possibilities ...

More than 50 years after the fact of those original fountains in my old neighborhood.

The presence of the fountains mean the same thing to me today as they did way back when. 

And unlike those original fountains, I hope that these newer ones are never, ever turned off.

Rant #3,349: Mama

I had a good day yesterday, as my physical therapy went about as well as it could go.

I am now on the stationary bike, and while I am far from ready to compete in a bike race, I am able to go back and forth on the bike at different seat levels, which for what I have, is an amazing accomplishment.

I know that if my mother was still around, she would be cheering me on as hard as she could.

As you know, my mother passed away at age 92 in September, and this Sunday will be the first Mother's Day where she won't be around to relish the day.

I know she will be there in spirit, but honestly, it isn't the same.

We won't be doing anything special on Sunday, other than bringing some food in from a restaurant of my wife's choice.

That should be fun, and, of course, my son and I will be giving my wife some nice gifts, so that should be fun, too.

My mother in law passed away several years ago, so now, my wife is the center of attention on her special day, although I do wish that my mom and my mother in law could be there too.

And my father ... I wish he was here, too. 

That goes for my father in law as well.

So it will be a bit of a bittersweet day for my family, as in particular, my mother's passing is still so fresh.

But she would want us to move on, and we will do just that ... without forgetting about the other ladies.

It seems to rain every Mothers Day, and I believe thst rain is in the forecast for this year's celebration.

Most will look at it as simply rain, but to me, it will almost be like tears coming from heaven.

It will still be a great day, just a little bit different for myself and my family.

Have a great Mother's Day, have a great weekend, and I will speak to you again on Monday.

Rant #3,348: I Remember the Feeling

I cannot believe that 54 yesrs ago today, I had my bar mitzvah.

May 9, 1970 ...

I member everything about that day ...

How sick I was ... how I literally forced myself to get up on that stage to recite my haftorah ... how I got a lot of solace from what the New York Knicks did the night before ...

How do the Knicks work into all of this?

I was really sick leading up to my big day.

I had 105 temperature, and it all had to do with nerves.

I was the first great grandchild, the first grandchild, the first son, the first of everything in my family.

No sickness was going to stop me.

The night before, my orthodox grandfather told me flat out that I was going to do my haftorah, even if I had to do it in my bed.

Well, I just had to do it; I had no choice.

I felt horrible, but I was able to watch the Knicks NBA championship game, that famous game where center Willis Reed limped onto the court with really one fully working leg, spooking the Los Angeles Lakers and providing the adrenalin to power the Knicks to their first championship.

(The game was blacked out on Channel 7 in New York, but I was able to watch it on Channel 8 from Connecticut.)

Anyway, I saw Reed limp out to the court, and I literally thought to myself, "If this guy can do it, then I can too."

Sick as can be, that game invigorated me, and even though I was still sick the morning of May 9, I did what I had to do, nearly passing out doing it, but right after I was done, I was fine--no more fever, and I felt great!

How ironic that it is now me who has the gimpy leg, and I am watching the Knicks all these years later try to do the impossible, and make their way to (hopefully) another championship.

Where once I idolized Reed, Walt Frazier and all the rest of that team, today I marvel at the talent of Jalen Brunson, Josh Hart and the other Knicks as they battle the Indiana Pacers to get to the Eastern Conference finals.

A win of this series will get them to that next step, and if they can get past the conference finals, they will be in the finals for the NBA championship.

Sure, I am putting the cart before the horse here, but if they could win the whole thing in 1970, I do believe that they could do it again in 2024.

The Kicks haven't won an NBA championship since 1973, so maybe this year is the year that they do it again.

I love baseball and the New York Yankees, but no team galvanizes the New York Metropolitan Area like the Knicks do when they are a championship-calibre team.

And Madison Square Garden is really hopping, what with the New York Rangers gunning for their own championship in the NHL.

So as I look back at May 9, 1970, I also look forward to today and beyond, I guess what comes around goes around, but it is not a completely circuitous route, at least for me.

And I think back to Willis Reed, and I still believe that if he could do it, I can do it too.

We ALL can do it.

Rant #3,347: Every Picture Tells a Story

I am having so much fun with my birthday gifts!

I received a Monkees jacket from my wife, and I have worn it each and every day since I received it ... but not yesterday afternoon, when it was 82 degrees in my neck of the woods.

I actually put the air conditioning on in the car when I picked my son up from work--

And I think that ended up being a good thing to do, because it seemed a bit weak.

When I go for my inspection, I will definitely have that checked out.

And as for the other gifts I received from my son and a few relatives, I poured that into my record collection, and filled some holes in my collection as well as added some other things that are just  so much fun to have.

I mainly bought some Beatles singles ...

I could have sworn I had some of these, but maybe I didn't--I guess it is possible that some of these 45s were "misplaced" when we moved, but whatever the case, these are records that I didn't have, but now have them.

Some of the things I purchased were truly outside the box.

I have always enjoyed the music of the late Lesley Gore, and honestly, why she is not in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame is completely beyond my comprehension.

She fits all the criteria for enshrinement, but it hasn't happened yet, and might never happen.

I have a good amount of her LPs and singles, but I found one--"Summer and Sandy"--that I didn't have, and it was fairly priced with a nice picture sleeve, so I bought it.

The 1967 song wasn't one of her biggest hits, but it is a perfect song as we get closer to summer, and I am glad I now have it in my collection.

I listen to a couple of podcasts related to music, and I can't recommend enough "Come to the Sunshine," which is hosted by musician/singer/songwriter/producer/Jack of all musical trades, master of all.of them Andrew Sandoval.

He plays 45s that he buys for his personal collection, getting them from right here in the U.S.A. and also from around the world.

I have listened to this podcast for several years, and I have heard music I would have never heard if not for this show, which you can find at https://wfmu.org/playlists/CZ

One such song that was played on the show was "Midnight Confessions," not by the Grass Roots, but by an act called Ever-Green Blues.

I thought it was an interesting rendition of this tune--imagine the Rascals singing this song--and after I heard it, I figured that I would look for this single--

Lo and behold, I found it right away, it was fairly priced and came with a picture sleeve, so I bought it, and now, this 1967 single is in my collection.

I digitize everything so I can listen to these records in my car, and I have had so much fun doing so, in between work and the other obligations I have now that I am feeling so much better.

A couple of records have not been delivered yet, nor has a book I ordered, but they should all be coming to my home really soon.

With everything going on in our world today, everybody needs a respite from these dire situations, and my hobbies have always given me a place where I can go where I need to relax and have fun.

It doesn't make the bizarro world we live in get any better, but I would rather delve into my hobby than cover the more serious stuff any day.

And it makes me love this music even more.

I don't think kids today can possibly get the same pleasure that Baby Boomers do when they listen to their generation's music.

You can pick any record I have in my collection, and for just about each and every one of them, I have a story to tell ... and I just told you two stories about two of the newest entries in my collection.

You simply cannot do that with a sound file which you download/stream off of iTunes or some other such service.

Just as every picture tells a story, every record does, too, and let me tell you, I have 10,000 stories that I can tell, based on my record collection.

Sorry, an MP3 file is good for what it is, but it simply cannot duplicate the experience you get when you hold a real, honest to goodness vinyl record in your hands.

The kids today are missing this part of their lives, even though they don't realize what they are missing.

Some younger people are getting into vinyl records, so all is not lost with these young kids.

And that's a good thing ... maybe it is something so small, but something that can bring us all together.

Rant #3,346: First Of May

Let's celebrate Jewish American Heritage Month!

Let's find out the intrinsic ties between the Jewish population and our country!

What, never heard of this celebration?

You are not alone.

I don't mind that the other "months" get coverage; I do mind that this particular celebration is completely ignored by the media.

And I ask the same question: why is that?

And why is that with all the anti-Semitism simmering in this country?

Well, it is pretty obvious, wouldn't you agree?

The term "systemic racism" is used at the drop of a hat as a catch-all phrase for various ills the country has, but I have yet to hear "systemic anti-Semitism" ever uttered, but it does exist, in particular in the media, which constantly tries to "right wrongs" when it comes to others, but when it comes to Jews ...

Heck, when you have prominent Jewish Americans only using their Jewishness when it lines their pocketbooks, why should anyone care--or understand--the Jewish heritage?

And that media negligence makes them culpable in the rise of anti-Semitism in this country.

And yes, the entertainment industry, too.

You want a solid example ... 

The CBS Evening News last night did not provide a moment of coverage for Holocaust Remembrance Day.

However, it went on and on about the ceasefire that Hamas approved, one that is so one sided that there is no way that Israel can agree to it.

The show also continued showing closeups of doe-eyed Palestinian children suffering, a situation created by Hamas, their own ruling body.

The CBS Evening News has become increasingly one sided. Since that fateful October day, its anti-Israel and anti-Semitic rhetoric has only increased.

Anchor Norah O'Donnell must be held fully responsible for this situation.

I have been bringing up this increasingly virulent situation for years, and some of my fellow Jews have called me every name in the book for my beliefs. 

And believe me, I wish I was wrong. 

But unfortunately, everything I say is true, and it is festering right now, with no end in sight.

And I am sorry ... when the "plight" of Pacific Islanders is highlighted more prominently than the "plight" of the Jews in this country--in particular in the New York Metropolitan Area market, featuring the largest Jewish population in the world other than Israel itself--you know there is a major problem.

The problem isn't going away so fast, certainly not in the environment we are in now.

You have all of these vicious campus protests, and the anti-Semitism which is front and center in these protests is downplayed.

And when it is spoken about, it is lumped in with anti-Muslim or Islamophobia ... it has nothing to do with any of those failings.

And notice how the media refers to Hamas as "militants" now, rather than as "terrorists," which they had been acknowledged as being throughout the world.

The next thing is that they will be portrayed as a humanitarian organization ...

Dont laugh, that time is coming.

Now, how about Jewish American Heritage Month? 

Here is what I said about Jewish Anerican Heritage Month, in edited form, in Rant #3,128, May 9, 2023.

It bears worth repeating.

"To celebrate that great success we hare had—as well as the struggles we continue to have, as anti-Semitism is on a dramatic rise in this country—we have Jewish American Heritage Month, which started in 2006 and is this month, to put a spotlight on our accomplishments in this country, as well as the problems some still have with us being as successful as many of us are here.

Jews are clearly woven into the fabric of our country’s history, but some still refuse to acknowledge this fact.

The problem is that this annual celebration gets virtually no acknowledgement from the mainstream media, receives little-to-no coverage at all, paling in comparison to other such celebrations which dot the calendar throughout the year.

Why is that?

The reason is that Jews are not part of the government's eight Special Emphasis programs, which includes Asians, Blacks, Women. LGBTQ and others, meaning that the federal government does not consider Jews as an oppressed group.

With anti-Semitic acts on a steep rise every year, and with an increasing amount of hate speech directed at the Jewish population, this is, quite frankly, hard to believe, but true.

Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, which is also this month, gets precedence and full coverage because this group is thought to be oppressed by our government and our country.

It is shameful, but it is true.

Not to minimize their pain, but we get bombarded this month by tributes, remembrances and what have you for Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, but little to nothing about Jewish American Heritage Month, which is really striking for a variety of reasons.

Notice that the rise of anti-Semitism is real—so why the cover-up beyond what I just told you?

And don’t tell me that the lack of coverage for this month does not add to the rise in anti-Semitism that we are going through now, but I think that, unfortunately, my Jewish brethren are at least partly to blame for this invisibility.

Many of us cavalierly have blended themselves into the mainstream of society, and have no idea what anti-Semitism is, simply because they don’t really know who they are.

And many others know what anti-Semitism is, but choose to ignore its very existence.

This is just so wrong on both counts, but as a proud Jewish American, I, personally don’t ignore what is happening in this country right now as easily as others seemingly do.

To each his own, but when Jews are not considered to be oppressed anymore, yet anti-Semitic incidents are on the rise, there is something wrong here, something very wrong.

That Jewish people in this country have somehow persevered through all the hatred is to be commended, and almost completely ignoring Jewish American Heritage Month is a clear slap in the face to this group of people who have had such a major impact on our nation.

And yes, ignoring this month is also sort of under-the-radar anti-Semitism, which is probably the worst anti-Semitism that there is, because it clearly exists, but is completely ignored by the mainstream, the very faction that perpetuates its existence."

You can cover it up as much as you like. 

But if you are Jewish, you are Jewish.

Be proud of that fact.

Nothing more needs to be said.

Rant #3,345: Oh My My

With all that is going on, it kind of escaped my mind that on May 4, The Ranting and Raving Blog celebrated its 15th anniversary.

The well-worn story goes that I decided I needed an outlet to write about what I wanted to write about, and I created the blog for just that purpose.

Little did I realize the depth and breadth of the blog experience, and that so many people would read what I had to say during weekdays, either here at the blog site or on Facebook.

I have written on so many different subjects over 15 years and more than 3,300 posts, but there are always so many more things to write about.

Some topics are written about much more than others.

Lately, the rise of anti-Semitism in the country, and worldwide, has been spotlighted here over other topics, but honestly, if you go back through all of the blog entries, this subject has been written about since almost the beginning here.

It is a subject that I take seriously and personally, and I really wish more people--not just non-Jews, but also my fellow Jews--would take this subject more seriously.

If I can even nudge someone to open up their eyes on this subject, then I think I have done my job.

Another subject that has taken precedence during the past six months has been my physical health.

I went from someone who, very luckily, never really had to worry too much about my health to someone who could barely move from my bed.

My life changed in a millisecond, and it changed again in a millisecond when it happened for the second time.

I have described it all to you, and again, I have repeated this many times, but although I am so much better than I was six months ago, I still have at least seven more months to really get back to where I was.

There are no guarantees that I will get to that point, but if I continue to work hard, maybe I can actually get to that point and put it all behind me--

But I will never forget what happened ... all I have to do is look at the six-inch scar on my left leg, and that will bring me back to reality.

Not every post here is of such magnitude, and I do like to joke around here and there and talk about lighter subjects, such as my record collection.

Let me tell you, my hobbies have always gotten me through thick and thin, and my record collection got me through the psst six months--the loss of my car, my mother, my home, my mobility and my sanity, in no particular order.

I could always go to that collection for some solace, some relaxation--

Much like coming to this blog every weekday and writing, and writing, and writing some more.

When I have insomnia, I write.

When I feel a little down, I write.

When I feel happy, I write.

And that isn't going to change.

I might write myself into the ground, but if that happens, at least I will be doing something that I enjoy doing at my demise.

But I feel great right now, even with my bad leg, and I have no plans to leave the building just yet.

There is just so much more to say, and I like those of you reading what I have to say, coming with me for the ride.

You don't have to agree with everything I say, and that is fine.

Unless it gets repetitious or ridiculous, go ahead and disagree with me.

And if you agree, let me hear about it.

I do this blog for fun, I make no money from it, and while I don't have thousands of followers, that is fine with me.

It keeps it cozy.

So happy 15th anniversary to The Ranting and Raving Blog ...

And please come back for more good stuff tomorrow.

Rant #3,344: All You Need Is Love

I wanted to tone down my Rant for today.

I have spoken about some heavy topics this week, and I wanted to make it a lille bit lighter for today.

But first, the heavy stuff.

New York City has finally taken some action on the encampments pockmarking many city campuses, but I have noticed a pattern taking place that is very disturbing.

The current city administration refuses to admit that these seiges on school property were anti-Semitic in nature, stating that these encampments started peacefully, but ramped up because of outsiders. 

If you hear what Jewish students have said, the verbal and physical abuse began immediately. 

And also, by the way, none of the press conferences mentioned this physical and verbal violence as a reason that police were finally allowed to come in and restore order. 

It had to do with the destruction of property on campus, and the term "anti-Semitism" was never uttered during these press conferences.

I guess it just isn't that important ... except for those who experience it.

Now ...

"All You Need Is Love" ... and that is the way I am going to segue into the lighter portion of today's Rant.

Last Sunday was my birthday, and my family and I had over to our apartment a couple of our closest relatives for a little get together.

I received some nice gifts, including that Monkees jacket I told you about the other day.

I also received a gift card and some cash and some other nice things, so I had a great 67th birthday celebration.

As you know, I am very involved with my hobby, which is record collecting, and a lot of those gifts are going toward fortifying my collection.

I ordered lots of stuff online from eBay and Discogs, and most of it went for records put out by the Beatles from their heyday, 1964 to 1971.

I have an incredible amount of their recordings--both singles and LPs--but I don't have everything.

And while I am pretty confident that I won't ever be able to fill every hole in my Beatles collection, I can still find decent deals on many of their records, including those 45s that I am missing.

Before I ordered anything, I went through my entire Beatles 45 RPM collection, and I saw what I had and what I was missing.

One if the 45s I was missing was "All You Need Is Love" backed with "Baby You're a Rich Man," a single I could have sworn that I once had.

But I evidently don't have it, so I found a good price, and it will enter my collection when I receive it, reportedly next week.

I think thst it is so ironic that during this time of extreme turmoil from coast to coast, I am missing the one "thought" expressed in the title of the song that we should all consider right now.

I know it is pretty naive to say what I did but--

"All You Need Is Love" ...

What a concept.

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

Rant #3,343: Writing Wrongs

Three hundred arrests at Columbia University ... good. How many of these supposed "students" are actually being expelled?

But this baloney that the initial protests were "peaceful" is completely ridiculous.

According to news reports, Jewish students were being verbally and physically attacked just about from the beginning.

The police were only "allowed" to get involved because these thugs took over and vandalized a building on campus, and the Columbia president pretty much asked them to intercede.

Not a single mention of anti-Semitism through all the news conferences ... well Jewish students know exactly what they were put through by the anarchists, and they have asked the mayor to look into these anti-Israel protests.

The mayor and his flunkies deserve to be chastised, because they continue to claim thst these protests were "peaceful," but the Jewish students know better.

And yes, the protests have spread all over the country.

We have one that has sprung up here on Long Island at Stony Brook University, where encampments have seemingly risen from nowhere.

It is quite obvious that these protests are being financed by outside sources ... just look at the tents; they are all alike.

And you just know that professional protest mongers are pushing these terrorist groupies into an abyss that they cant escape from.

These pros know exactly what they are doing, coralling imbecile students in ways that will hurt them right now and into the future.

These pros are paid to further the agenda of whoever is paying them.

In fact, the NYPD has identified one gray-haired woman who is a regular rabble router who will participate at the drop of a hat, and another whose husband was deported for inciting such situations in the past.

The NYPD has announced that a significant percentage of those that were arrested are over 30 years of age, which says a lot.

And there are plenty of others, you can bet on that.

Any American has the right to protest, but these protests have turned violent and dangerous, filled with antisemitic and anti-Israel hate.

As I wrote about yesterday, there remains a ceasefire proposal on the table that is highly weighted toward Hamas' interests, and as I write this piece, the terrorist organization has yet to act on this, and simply might never do so.

Where do these protesters stand on the fact thst Hamas, who they idolize, continues to hold up a ceasefire thst these kids are demanding?

And what of the hostages, a group that the protesters continue to ignore in their demands?

And what about the dead bodies Hamas holds, carcasses of Israelis and others who were murdered in the conflict ... for what reason could they be holding these lifeless bodies, other than to further rile Jews, who normally bury their dead quickly?

Funny, the world has labeled Hamas as a terrorist organization, but they are worse than that: they are barbarians, following absolutely no rhyme or reason in their dealings with what is called the civilized world.

But how "civilized" is this world where it fails to collectively repudiate Hamas, instead putting the blame on Israel for their handling of the war against this terrorist organization?

Every civilized country in the world should have had Israel's back the very moment Hamas attacked the country ...

Incredibly, that didn't happen.

But it seemed much of the world ganged up on Israel, painted them as the villain, and made demands of them as they were, and continue to, fight a war for its very survival.

War is ugly.

This is not "McHale's Navy," "Gomer Pyle USMC," and is not the war portrayed in those World War II-era Abbott and Costello movies.

It is a brutal exercise, and no matter how carefully planned, there will be mistakes made. 

The Israel-Hamas War is no exception to any of this.

It is a true war of good vs. evil, but I do believe some people cannot discern who is good and who is evil here.

And these students, poisoned from birth with the Internet and social media, have lost the ability to think and make decisions on their own.

That is why these protest mongers proliferate, because these students have allowed these rabble rousers to think for them.

And where do they learn all of this hate from?

I think you can figure thst out yourselves.

And now there is a move to redefine exactly what "anti-Semitism" actually means.

Some are applauding this move as long overdue; others say it will stifle free speech.

Just like you are abusing your right to free speech when you scream "Fire" in a crowded venue, you are abusing your right to free speech when you yell "Heil Hitler!" In the same crowded venue.

Anyone with a head on his or her shoulders should realize that, but these students, acting as nothing more than automatons, can't process that concept.

Free speech and harassment are two very different things.

And these supposed students, attending some of the best and most prestigious learning institutions in the world, are adults, and they should know better.

But they don't, and that is a major problem that goes way beyond the encampments dotting college campuses across our country.

And now I heard that they are trying to get their anarchist and hateful professors involved, imploring them to not grade any finals until their demands are met.

Any professor that does this, as an employee of the university, should be fired on the spot, period.

End of story.

Rant #3,342: God Only Knows

So now these terrorist groupies have taken over a campus building, trespassing, breaking windows, bombarding themselves inside.

Finally, the school said that any students who are involved would be expelled, but the administration continues to do little to nothing to remove this human garbage from the campus.

Columbia University is private property, so the police cannot come in unless university officials ask them to get involved, something they have not yet done.

Everything remains at a standstill, but the longer the administration sits on their hands, the longer this will fester and the harder it will be to fully remove these groupies.

There was a press conference held where the mayor and other officials talked in circles about how outside forces were pushing the protests and the violence ... but all who spoke said that these had been "peaceful" protests until the outside agitators got involved--

Attacking Jewish students verbally and physically refutes whatever "peaceful" aspects of the protests these suits were soft-pedaling. 

And during this press conference, there was not a single, solitary mention of anti-Semitism, so now that the students have damaged school property, the issue of anti-Semitism has been pushed out of the spotlight ... if it ever was of utmost importance to school administrators and other officials to begin with.

And while all of this is happening, a truce that leans heavily toward Hamas' benefit sits without any reply from the terrorist organization.

What do these terrorist groupies have to say about that?

Now onto something else ...

As you know, I go the physical therapy for my injury twice a week, and this week, I went on Monday, and I still have to go on Thursday.

I have been going to this place since the first time I injured myself, and they are getting me into shape for the long run.

When I first began to go there for physical therapy, I had a couple of different therapists helping me, but in recent weeks, it pretty much settled on one woman, who has pushed me--and pushed me hard--during my sessions.

For my birthday, my wife bought me something unique, a Monkees jacket with the word "Monkees" on the front and small caricatures of Peter, Micky, Mike and Davy on the back.

I immediately put away my Yankees jacket, and until it gets warmer, the Monkees jacket will be my go-to jacket when I venture outside.

I wore it for the first time a little while after I received the gift on Sunday, and I did get a double take from one woman outside in the parking lot of the apartment complex we live in.

But back to physical therapy ...

Monday was a very warm day in my neck of the woods, and when I put on the jacket as we prepared to go to.physical therapy, my wife told me that it was warm outside, and I could leave the jacket at home.

It was warm, but I wore the jacket to physical therapy anyway.

As we entered physical therapy and I was getting ready for my session, the woman who is helping me made a mention of the jacket as I was doing the exercises that she assigned to me.

As the conversation picked up, it kind of veered off on a tangent, as I told her where I lived when I first began watching "The Monkees" TV show and buying their records way back in 1966.

"I lived in South Jamaica, Queens, back then," I said.

"South Jamaica ... where in South Jamaica?," she asked.

"Rochdale Village ... ever hear if it?," I asked.

She did a double take.

"Oh my ... I can't believe it ... I lived there to as a kid!," she stated.

We then started to compare notes as I was doing my exercises.

She is two years older than I am, and she lived there around the same time I was there, but I lived there a little bit longer than she did.

We went over all the different things there--the schools in particular--and I came up with a couple of names of "older-than-me" sisters and brothers of people i knew there.

She didn't know any of these people, but we started talking about some other Rochdale Village things of the past, like the community center.

She lived in section five, and i lived in section three, and I threw out a couple of more names to her, but nothing clicked as I did my exercises and then was iced down as the nearly two hour session moved toward its conclusion

As my wife said to me, "It's really a small world," and she is so right.

Rochdale Village was such a unique neighborhood, and certainly a great place to grow up in during the years I lived there.

It wasn't all good, there was plenty of bad, but I think I had a great childhood, and Rochdale Village remains a great part of my life, more than 50 years removed.

My mother often told me that wherever she went--on a vacation, on a cruise, to the mall or to the supermarket--she would always meet people from Rochdale Village.

I don't know if the latest proof of that axiom was found in physical therapy the other day, but God kind of works in strange ways.

I could have gotten anyone to watch over my physical therapy, but somehow, I matched up with this woman ...

Maybe it can simply be called serendipity at its best, but whatever it is, it is.

And it gave me a brief respite from that idiotic chaos at Columbia, involving young people who probably never can comprehend the magic of their old neighborhoods like I do with Rochdale Village.

And that is a shame.