Rant #3,566: Running Scared

Today, it is Halloween.

Boo!

It is really "boo hoo" because this day isn't what it used to be.

In our old house, no kids came to our door for a couple of years, the final years we lived there.

Now, in our apartment in a 55-and-over community, I seriously doubt anyone will come to our door, even though there are a few younger kids who live here.

No, it just isn't the same.

Halloween is just another day on the calendar.

But that does not mean that I don't have great memories about when Halloween was a REAL holiday, for kids like me, way back when.

To get into the Halloween spirit, I decided to watch one of my favorite Little Rascals/Our Gang shorts, one that doesn't really have anything to do with Halloween--but scared me pretty badly as a little kid.

"Little Sinner," a 20-minute short from 1935, is one of the series shorts that used to be shown on TV in the 1950s and 1960s, and then beginning in the late 1960s, it became one of the "banned" shorts, due to its content.

But when I saw it as a very little kid, I was scared out of my pants with everything going on ... but as I got older, I just laughed and laughed at all the goings on, and still do.

In this short, it is Sunday, and that means it is a day for the Gang to go to church (even Jerry Tucker, one of the few real-life Jewish Gang-sters, but that's another story for another time).

All the Gang--Alfalfa, Jerry, the kid who later became "Woim"--are at the church, but where's Spanky?

He is with the still-androgynous Buckwheat and Spanky's "new" little brother, Porky, and he is playing with a new fishing rod, telling the younger kids that even though it was Sunday, he was going fishing.

He shows up at the church to show his face to the pastor, hiding his fishing rod in his clothes and telling the pastor he has "rheumatism" to cover for his awkward walk.

As the pastor goes into the church, the Gang tells Spanky that if he doesn't go to church on Sunday, "Something is going to happen to you!"

Spanky runs away as the other kids enter the church, and goes with Buckwheat and Porky to some local pond, where the trio invariably gets kicked out by its caretaker.

The trio wander around in the forest, and with the skies dsrkening during an eclipse, meet up with a Baptist church congregation doing a baptism ceremony in another body of water.

The hooting, hollering and screaming scare Spanky and the others to the point that they run back to the church, pursued by a white sheet that came from the baptism that they think is a ghost.

They arrive when the church service is over, and Spanky learns a scary lesson about going to church every Sunday morning.

That is a brief synopsis of the plot, but the scariest part of the episode--and why it was not shown for many years--revolves around the baptism.

This is a baptism made by a black church congregation, and you see every stereotype possible in these scenes, from the Steppin' Fetchit nature of the black actors with speaking parts all the way through to the actual baptism, where the actor being dunked in the water hoots and hollers more like he is possessed and is part of an exorcism rather than a baptism.

And the big, saucer eyes of Buckwheat are in full display here, as are his dreadlocks, which rise in the air because he is so scared.

Sure, this thing is as full.of stereotypes as can be, but it is so funny to see the kids' reactions to something that they can't possibly understand.

I just laugh and laugh at this, because it is really funny.

But the baptism itself is pretty scary, and I can see why as a kid, I was scared when the guy getting dunked starts yelling and screaming.

And with all that is going on, you can see why the short wasn't shown for many years.

But watching it as an adult, and watching it nearly 90 years after it first came out, you can see how well done this short actually is, and you go with it from beginning to end.

So that is how I prepared for Halloween, a holiday thst today reflects our times just like Halloween reflected our times when I was a kid.

I loved Halloween when I was a kid, but I don't really love it much now.

But go watch "Little Sinner" ... not a Halloween short per se, but it just might give you the creeps--

While you laugh and laugh and laugh some more.

https://youtu.be/5wSQMNw3KZ8?si=h02czMK6GPDkHMS1

And as for the Yankees ... Halloween came a day early for them.

No treats, just tricks.

"Boo hoo" is right.

Rant #3,565: Desperate, But Not Serious

Oy!

The Yankees were on the verge of being swept by the Dodgers in the World Series, and I wasn't too happy about it.

No team in the history of Major Leagie Baseball has ever come back from a 3-0 deficit to win the World Series, but I had to think that there was a first time for everything--

And why not the Yankees? 

Heck, I even had my rally cap all prepared, even though i feared that if I turned the hat inside out, I wouldn't be able to get the hat back to its original perfection, but those fears were unfounded.

The hat still looks like it went through World War III, and as I have said, it has served me well during the past 50 years or so.

Heck, I'm 67 years old, and I may be battered and worn, but I am not ready to hang it up.

The hat is only 50 years old, so I have 17 years on it.

It will be fine.

Baseball is 162 games in 180 days, and then you extend it out to the playoffs and World Series, and you can understand why there are so many ups and downs during this period.

Yesterday was actually the first anniversary of my first injury, when I tore my left leg's quad muscle after falling down two stairs in our old house ...

So I know all too well about ups and downs and how things can change in a millisecond.

No matter what happens, I, personally, am physically better off than I was a year ago, when I didn't know what the future held for me--

And who knew that I would soon injure myself again in another freak accident.

If I can get through all that--and still be in one piece--I can get through anything.

And yes, four in a row is a possibility.

Why not?

The Yankees won last night, so again, why not?

And my rally cap, evidently, still has some magic in it.

One down, three to go.

Rant #3,564: Music, Music, Music

Monday was one of the least busy weekdays I have had in some time.

I had some work to do, did it, and as I said in yesterday's Rant, I didn't use my car at all, and it is still legally parked in a handicapped spot 

So I watched more TV than I usually do, did my exercises, including two walks back and forth to our mailbox--which is in a separate building in the complex where we live--and pretty much didn't do too much else.

I did digitize a few records in my collection, and that is always fun, and it eats up plenty of time, in yesterday's case, about two hours.

I record all of this music, put it on a thumb drive, and VOILA!, I have some great music to listen to while driving.

But it isn't just digitizing these records ...

I save the music to several different folders on my computer, so it takes some time with each song I do to complete a recording and move onto another one.

I have been digitizing my records for about 15 years or so, so I have thousands of songs in the MP3 format stored away ...

And the great thing is that I can probably go 15 more years and not be even nearly finished in digitizing everything that I have on vinyl records, LPs and 45s.

Yesterday, I was digitizing a couple of my singles, and it struck me, maybe for the first time, how much time has elapsed since these records came out and where we are in the current time.

I wasn't even digitizing my older records yesterday, doing some from the 1970s and 1980s, but it just struck me about the time ... heck, these records are over 40 years old!

I bought these particular records myself when they originally were out, and they say that your record collection defines who you are, and who you were when those records were originally released, and the singles I digitized yesterday certainly define me, back then, and now.

Meat Loaf's "Paradise By the Dashboard Light" is the perfect record to digitize right now, what with the World Series currenty in the spotlight.

However, while it was a huge radio song way back in 1977, it was not much of a hit on the Hot 100.

It is the only song that I like from the artist, and I guess, back in 1977, it was a must have for me, because Yankees broadcaster and Hall of Famer Phil Rizzuto is on the record, doing a play by play of ... well, if you know the song, you know it was about something other than our national pastime.

I guess the giggly factor was there for me at 20 years old when it came out, and I really cannot believe this song came out 47 years ago.

I did a few other records, including two from Men At Work, both from the early 80s.

"Who Can It Be Now" and "Overkill" were huge hits in 1982 and 1983, and I remember that I waited on line for a few hours at Jones Beach to try to buy tickets to see them in concert, but I ended up leaving because there was no way I was getting a ticket with the line as long as it was.

But those songs were all over the radio more than 40 years ago ... I was in my mid 20s, and I really liked the Australian band Men At Work.

More than 40 years have elapsed? I can't believe it!

Listening to the Meat Loaf and Men At Work in 2024, I have to say that the music is still good, still fun, and still very enjoyable to my ears.

I can't wait for the experience of listening to the music in my car, where I have always believed that you get the best listening experience.

But listening to songs from 1977 and the early 1980s in 2024 is a fun, an interesting thing to do, and gives me a window into where I was mentally and emotionally way back when.

Listening to music from 40, 50, 60 years ago is one of the few ways you can time travel, without leaving the present day.

Where have all the years gone?

And why was the music so much better back then than it is now?

Rant #3,563: Cars

As things stand now, I may have to make my famed Yankees cap into a rally cap.

Things are not going as I had hoped, but all is not lost--

Yet.

Anyway, with Game 3 coming tonight and back in the Bronx, I have other things to think about--

And the whole thing is so stupid, I cannot believe that I have to waste time on it.

As I have told you before, the parking situation is completely idiotic in the development my family and I live in.

Each apartment is given one parking pass, and the car with the parking pass can park anywhere in the parking area, with the exception of in the handicapped spots, unless they have such a parking pass.

Any apartment with more than one car has to park the car(s) in visitors spots only.

The problem is that those spots fill up quickly with residents' cars, and there are times that people like me simply cannot find a visitors' space to park in.

One such time, as you know, I was towed after parking my car in an open regular spot, at the cost of $260 (cash).

I spoke with management, they don't seem to be too much in a rush to do anything, so with no.l options and my hand being forced to do so, I got a handicapped parking permit, which covers New York City and Nassau and Sufvolk counties.

What this means is that I can park in the handicapped spots in my development, and any such spots in Long Island and in the city.

Well, you would think I could, at least, even though the police told me that I could.

Well, one of our neighbors--in fact our next door neighbor--has taken issue with this, and late last week, when i was forced to park in a handicapped spot because there were no viditors spots available--she left a handwritten note on my windshield about the situation.

She claimed that the handicapped spot that I parked in is, actually, her spot--she supposedly spoke to management about it--and she told me not to park there again.

I only park in the handicapped spot when there are no visitors spots available.

Last week, in fact, I parked in a visitors spot each and every time, except the one time I parked in "her" spot.

And, of course, this spot is not "her" spot nor is it mine; it is for the use of anyone with a handicapped parking permit who needs to park in the space.

Several months ago, we had some visitors to our apartment--my wife's brother and his wife--and they parked in the handicapped spot because they could not find a visitors spot ... naturally, because the residents here filled those spots 

Even with the handicapped permit displayed in the window of their car, this neighbor had the nerve to put a handwritten message on our guest's car, much like the one my car was blessed with the other day.

On the weekend, I again could not find a visitors spot, so I had to park in the handicapped spot.

Our neighbor--who, by the way, I have never met--parked her car exactly two spots away, in a regular spot, as she evidently was gone for a good portion of the day, and I was in "her" spot when she returned.

Again, she can park anywhere in the development, because this is her only car.

Me, I can only park in the visitors spot or, since i now have the permit, in the handicapped spot.

Dozens of empty spots are available at all times during the day and evening, but my car cannot use them.

On Sunday, I took my son to his friend's house, so I left the spot to do that.

I was gone about an hour, and when I returned, there once again were no visitors spots to park in, and lo and behold, the handicapped spot remained open, so that is where I parked.

The neighbor had a good hour to move her car into "her" spot, but she didn't.

And today, for the first time since I got back to driving, I do not foresee using my car to travel. I used to go to physical therapy each Monday, but since that ended, my Mondays are a bit freer.

And if I don't use my car, it will remain just where it is, whether the neighbor likes it or not.

I don't want trouble with neighbors--in particular about a situation where, legally, she doesn't have a leg to stand on--but I also refused to answer her with my own letter or a face-to-face discussion, because the situation is just so stupid that it is not worth my time.

But I have kept her note to me--I wish I had the note she put on our visitor's car all those weeks ago, but i don't--just in case there is further--or worse--retribution on her part.

(We know that one nearby neighbor claimed that another neighbor's television was too loud, and when the neighbor refused to turn it down, the offended neighbor started to put garbage on top of the neighbor with the TV's car.

I actually saw a pile of garbage on the car one morning, asked my wife about it, and she told me what she had heard.

I have no idea if this was resolved, and quite frankly, I could care less about it.

But it has made me wary of such a situation happening in my case.)

This whole thing is just so silly, but I'll be damnef if i am going to pay $260 again for parking in an open space, but one that the development doesn't allow me to park in.

So, if I cannot find a visitors spot any time in the future, I will park in the handicapped spot if it is available--

And that is the end of that.

Rant #3,562: Hats Off To Larry

Tonight is the big night.

It's the first game of the World Series, the Yankees versus the Dodgers--

Gotham versus Glamour.

Broadway versus Hollywood.

Hot Dogs versus Sushi.

Even if you don't give a hoot about this, the media has jumped on this story like a bee to honey.

Fox wants you to watch the World Series to put the ratings through the roof, and to show off as many movie and TV stars as possible.

(These stars have absolutely nothing to do with the game, but it makes Fox feel important.)

My son has basketball tonight, so at least in the early going, I will have to monitor what is going on through my phone.

I love watching my son play basketball--and bowl--and I can show off my allegiance by wearing my Yankees hat and Yankees T-shirt while I am there.

Let's focus on my hat, shown above.

I have had that hat since the early 1970s.

I have no idea where I got this hat from, but it was made in Bengladesh, under the Puma logo.

The color is worn, but the interlocking N-Y is still taut.

It is an one-size-fits-all hat, but it is held together in the back not with velcro, but with a plastic snap band.

The brim has a wide outline of my sweat underneath, and CSI could get whatever DNA they wanted to get from me from that brim.

I wore that hat during the 1976 American League Series, and when Chris Chambliss hit that dramatic walk-off home run, the guy behind me dumped a cup of beer down my back, making me more frigid than I already was, and I am sure at least some of the beer got on the back of my hat.

It is almost part of my skin, and it does protect my hairless head, especially since I had that cancer taken off of it, so it is kind of my second skin.

The hat has been blown off my head numerous times, has fallen into the water just as many times (at the pool, beach and water parks), and on more than one occasion, it had to be retrieved by people after I lost it due to wind or falling into the water at a water park.

It has been through hurricanes, snow, and heavy rain.

I have worn this hat to every country I have ever visited, from Haiti to South Korea.

I have also worn the hat at.old and new Yankee Stadium, Shea Stadium, Tropicana Field, and Camden Yards (I have not been to CitiField yet).

I have told my wife that when my time comes, i want to be buried wearing this hat on my head.

This hat means a lot to me, and i do believe the hat deserves another championship.

So on what might be its 50th year in my possession, I do believe the Yankees will win the World Series this year.

My hat deserves it.

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

Rant #3,561: Oh, How It Hurts

Oh, the pain!

Recently, my wife and I were alerted to the fact that since our health insurance company wasn't making enough money in our area, we, and presumably hundreds of others, were being dropped from our plan on January 1, 2025.

We did our due diligence, and my wife and I supposedly have new plans that will take effect by the first of the new year.

Then comes our son ...

He is considered disabled, so he has both Medicaid and Medicare--

But his vision is covered by our old plan, so he is being dropped, too, and we had to find another plan for him.

We made the appointment to talk over the phone with the same person we spoke to about my wife's and my plans, and yesterday was the day that we agreed to speak about a plan for our son.

Well, after an hour and a half of waiting, we have a new plan for our son, and after another hour and a half on the phone, much of it through dinner, I think we are all covered now.

"I think" is the operative phrase here..

So now we presumably all have new plans that take effect on the first of the new year.

There is a little fly in the ointment to all of this.

Our zip code--which is very important to health insurance companies--is mainly a Nassau County zip code.

However, probably due to prior redistricting, a sliver of our zip code is in Suffolk County--and that sliver includes where we live.

This calamity impacted our signing up for our new plans, as the computer system that they used to sign us up would not accept that our zip code crosses over two counties, and when the zip code was added into the form, it always reflected Nassau County, and could not be changed to Suffolk County.

We actually had to register twice because of this quirk, and we were assured by the broker that we had nothing to worry about, that the county isn't that important because no matter what the form reflects, the plan actually crosses over the two counties and includes our zip code--

To which I replied:

"And if we find that it doesn't, you will be getting a phone call from me."

So we were basically told to leave the zip code with the incorrect county as is, because while the zip code is important, if the plan covers the zip code, the county isn't important.

Yup, you can bet I am skeptical, but I have to go with this, until the time that it is proven to actually be not true, which I hope never happens.

And the unfortunate thing is that this is not the first time this has happened.

I had the same problem when I went to the local police precinct to find out how I could get a handicapped parking permit; the desk cop insisted I lived in Nassau County, until another cop told her that yes, I actually do live in Suffolk County.

When I was bedridden when we first moved into this apartment nearly a year ago, I did all the calls to Medicare, Social Security and other agencies to change our address, and I got the same response, that I was in Nassau instead of Suffolk.

And even the Board of Elections gave me some lip when I alerted them of our move.

All of these things have been rectified, but --

We still get mail for Nassau County from the Town of Oyster Bay, which we lived in at our previous address--which is Nassau County all the way.

In fact, we are about just 30 or so yards into Suffolk County, as the administrative offices of our development are in--

You guessed it, Nassau County.

So yes, about 30 yards from our doorstep, I can be in two different counties at the same time, putting one foot in Nassau and the other foot in Suffolk.

Yes, this is all crazy, but your zip code--and where you are in that zip code--impacts so many things in your life, much of which you don't realize.

I just hope our insurance is copacetic with everything, and that we don't have any problems when it activates in the new year.

So, I will say it again--

Oh, the pain!

Rant #3,560:Should I Stay Or Should I Go?

That is something I have been asking myself for the past few weeks.

Do I attend or do I not attend, that is the question.

Sorry Shakespeare, but what I am vacilating back and forth on is my 50th high school reunion.

It was announced a few weeks ago, to be held in September 2025.

It is going to be held locally, and do I go or do I not go?

As I have spoken about many times here, I had a very difficult time in high school.

We moved from Queens right before the school year began, and quite frankly, I never really fit into the Massaoequa High School atmosphere at the time.

Very cliquey, very stuck up, very isolated, and very show busy.

I couldn't make friends, and for the first and only time in my life, I completely lost my confidence, and I suffered during those four years of high school.

What should have been the best years of my life were actually the opposite.

I was "a man withhout a country," and it is a time where I really could not get my feet on the ground.

But I tried, and tried, and tried.

Nothing worked.

I did not go to the prom, did nit get a class ring, and have absolutely no idea where my yearbook is.

Once I got to college, everything came back to me, and grad school was good, too.

But those high school years ... better forgotten.

So to revisit those years, 50 years later--

I just don't know.

I already went to one reunion, the year after graduation. We had excess money in the class' account, and we had to spend it, so we had a reuuion after just one year.

I was the first one there, and the first one to leave.

I discovered that one major reason that I never fit in with the rest of my class is that I had very little in common with them.

Most of the people in my class had lived in Massapequa their entire lives, and I came in from a much different place, background and upbringing.

Massapequa High School at the time was "Hollywood East" with the likes of Brian Setzer, Jerry Seinfeld, Jessica Hahn and Joey Buttufuocco walking the same school halls as I did.

(And yes, I also went to school with Marv Albert's nephew ... think Marv with blond hair, and you got his nephew, and he was nasty and stuck up as could be.)

And yes, in today's terms, I guess you can say I was bullied; I had plenty of fights and altercations, but my Queens background certainly helped me in those areas.

I did make a few friends at the end, but that was senior year, so it was a bit too late. 

I doubt thst any of them will be at the reunion; I know that two of them moved out to California, and quite frankly, if they came, I don't think I would have much in common with them.

So with all of this, do I go to the reunion or not?

It is something I will ponder over the next few months.

And I won't be too surprised that if I do go, I am, once again, the first one there and the first one to leave 

It wouldn't surprise me in the least.

Rant #3,559: Father and Son

I am still on a high with the Yankees going into the World Series, but I notice that there is always a sharp decline in Blog readership when I talk about sports 

I can't explain it, other than to say that I guess many of the Blog's readers are not sports fans.

Everyone has their thing, mine is baseball.

(Or at least one of mine ... I have plenty of "things.")

So today, bear me one more day of baseball talk ... but this entry really isn't about baseball--

It is about family, and the bonds that exist between parent and child.

I told you about the great memory I have from the only World Series game I ever attended, in 1999.

But I have another great memory from the 1996 World Series, and it all happened in my living room.

I was watching the sixth game of the series, between the Yankees and the Braves, struggling to stay up, as I had work the next day.

My son was a little more than a year old, and while he had started to eat solid food, he still took a bottle (this didn't go on thst much longer, as I recall.)

Anyway, as I was watching what became the final game of the series, my son started to cry, and I went to his room--half asleep myself--took him in my arms, and got him his bottle.

I fed him, and as the game was still going on, when he was done, I put him in the corner of the couch, sitting up, and we watched the game together.

I ended up putting him in my arms again, and as the Yankees won the game and the World Series, he was cradled in my arms.

He was wide awake--I was probably much more sleepy than he was at this point--and I celebrated the victory with him.

Within a half hour after the game, we were both asleep, but I will never forget that moment--it was maybe the first time I bonded with my son over baseball.

He obviously doesn't remember this incident, but it is something I will never forget.

Now, at age 29, he has only a passing interest in baseball, much preferring professional wrestling over the game I still love, but that is OK with me.

As I am preparing for the World Series, he was preparing for the WWE's Monday Night Raw telecast on Monday and WWE's NXT tonight.

At the very least, I passed on my love of sports to him, just like my father passed on that love to me.

It is just all fun, and we still bond over sports when we watch pro wrestling on TV together.

I like it, and my son likes it.

So as I will be in awe of Giancarlo Stanton, Aaron Judge and Juan Soto during the World Series, my son will be in awe of Roman Reigns, Randy Orton and Solo Sokoa.

Like I said, it is all just fun--

And the fun continues.

Rant #3,558: A Tonic For the Troops

"YES!

Congratulations to my team, the New York Yankees, for winning the American League pennant and going to the World Series for the first time in 15 years.

I had my doubts about this team, but any team with Juan Soto, the soon to be $700 Million Man, is a threat.

Good luck to the Dodgers and Mets. I personally don't care who wins that series.

Let's go Yankees!

(And they did it on the eve of Mickey Mantle's birthday ... the stars seem to be aligned the right way ... .)"

That is what I said on Facebook yesterday morning about the New York Yankees and their drive to the World Series.

After a very difficult week--yes, I did finish the convention review for work, at exactly 5,550 words--this win was a tonic for the troops, so to speak.

And who says baseball isn't exciting?

People who simply don't understand the game, a game with more nuances than any other sport.

I have been a Yankees fan since 1965, seeing my first game in person at the old Yankee Stadium, and falling in love with it right then and there.

My father passed on the love of the game--and the Yankees--to me, and I, in turn, passed these things on to my son.

I have been to many games in person during the past more than 60 years.

The electricity you feel in person at a baseball game ... there is nothing like it.

I was there when Micky Mantle hit his 500th home run ... I was there when Chris Chambliss hit the walk-off homer in the league championship win in 1976 ... and I was there in Game 3 during "the John Rocker World Series" in 1999 against the Braves, when the Yankees won the game I attended in extra innings on a walk-off homer by Chad Curtis.

I was there for lesser games, too, and oh, how I wish I could go to another World Series game this time around!

Baseball is American as apple pie, and the Yankees are probably the most famous professional sports team in the world.

I told you that on my trip to South Korea, seemingly everyone was wearing Yankees gear--

It means America to them.

I wore some Yankee gear there myself, and little kids would come up to me, and in perfect English, ask me where I was from.

When I told them "New York," there was a gleam in their eyes that was truly unforgettable.

The World Series looms, and all of this can be simply a good memory if they don't win the championship.

Baseball makes me feel like a kid again, playing pickup games, stickball games, playing in the neighborhood Little League in Rochdale Village, Queens.

Heck, I stayed up to 1 a.m. on Saturday night watching the recap of the pennant-clinching game, and I could have gone further if I wanted to ... I wasn't the least bit tired, even after a rough week.

The World Series begins Friday night, and I simply cannot wait.

It's the little kid in me, with saucer-sized eyes, dreams of a 28th championship right at the doorstep.

Hopefully, the team can knock down that door and be able to sing "We Are the Champions" and "New York, New York"--the Frank Sinatra version--and bring home the trophy to New York and Yankees fans.

After the year that I had, personally, this will make me as happy as can be.

I might not be able to jump with joy and click my heels, but i will do the next best thing--

Cheer while watching on TV, and party like it's 1999 ... and 2009, the last time the Bronx Bombers won the whole shebang.

Yankees vs. Dodgers ...

GO YANKS!

Rant #3,557: Let's Get Physical

Life after physical therapy is kind of weird.

I participated in physical therapy for nine months or so, and like a developing fetus, this thing took on a life of its own during that period.

I went twice a week for all of those months--usually on Mondays and Thursdays, but sometimes on Tuesdays--and my time there saw me coming in barely able to walk and leaving there walking as good as possible under the circumstances.

My physical therapist--and talk about serendipity, she grew up in Rochdale Village, Queens, roughly during the same period that I did--worked me hard, and I responded to all the pushing she put me through, and I am where I am now--

I will never be as good as I was prior to my accidents, but I am so much better than I was, and can do just about anything with a scant minimum of discomfort, or no discomfort at all.

But I don't have thst regular schedule of going to physical therapy anymore, so I have had to adjust to the best of my ability.

I continue to work out at home--a total.of 40 some odd minutes or so in three separate periods--and I have added some walking--to and from the building with the mailboxes that we have in the development here--so I feel that I have compensated, to an extent, for not having the two sessions of physical therapy on my schedule anymore.

Yesterday, after dropping my son off at work, I got gas, did a little food shopping, came home, ate lunch, and then I did my second set of exercises.

I later did some things for work, but after doing all of this, leading up to the time when I have to go and pick up my son from work, I did find myself with about an hour of nothing--

The very time I would have been at physical therapy.

I know, I will get used to all of this, but right now, it is kind of new to me, and I simply have to adjust.

And no, I don't want to join a gym. I am not a gym person st all.

Well before I had my accidents, the mother of one of my son's bowling teammates had some type of major leg surgery.

I think it might have been knee replacement, but whatever the case, she had this surgery, and whenever I asked how she was doing, the conversation always veered to the same comment from her.

"The worst part of the whole thing is physical therapy ... the surgery is nothing compared to what you have to do in physical therapy."

Yes, physical therapy was difficult, but I never looked at it the way this woman did.

I never really minded going to physical therapy, I understood why I was there, and through all the pain--and there was plenty--I prospered.

I put in the work, the therapists pushed me to do what I needed to do, and here I am.

I guess I also miss the camaraderie of the therapists and my fellow injured participants, but I also miss actually being there, and actually seeing how much better I have gotten during all of these months.

And compared to my earlier encounters with physical therapy, my most recent experience was outstanding, from top to bottom.

Looking at the rest of this week, I won't be bored, and I will have plenty to do.

I have to cover my employer's annual convention in Virginia this week, two all-day affairs that I will handle virtually starting today and continuing tomorrow.

So for the next two days, I am completely attached to my computer all day, and thus, I am going to be engulfed in work stuff and not Rant stuff during the next two days.

So I definitely will not be filing a Thursday Rant, and I might not even be able to do one on Friday, either.

So this might or might not be my last Rant for this week.

If it is, have a great rest of the week and a great weekend, and I will speak to you again on Monday 

If I can somehow squeeze out a Friday Rant, then you will hear from me later this week--

But somehow, I would say don't count on it.

Speak to you again the next time I am able.

Rant #3,556: Fun

"I vote.

You vote.

Dad votes.

Mom votes.

We all vote."

That is the very first thing I ever had published, way back in the literary publication that P.S. 165 in Flushing, Queens, put out in 1962 or 1963 or so, so I was all.of five or six years old when I wrote this (or something to the same effect--I don't have a copy of the publication, but I am pretty sure this was, at least, the gist of what I wrote.)

I have always been fascinated with the voting process.

I remember going with my mother when I was just a little older--when me lived in Rochdale Village, Queens--and going behind the curtain as she voted ... I found it pretty exciting.

Now, fast forward to the present time, and I still find the voting process as interesting as ever--

This time around with a twist.

For the 2024 election--where we are voting for president--I, and my family, voted by mail for the very first time.

We decided to do this as part of our move to a new community, and I found it kind of fun.

We applied for the mail ballot a week or two ago, and the ballots came in the mail over this past weekend.

I ended up doing exactly what I said I was going to do--I wrote in a presidential candidate--and I filled in the rest of the ballot, voting for candidates in all parties.

I found this way of voting more relaxing, less pressured, less stressful, and it gave me a chance to really think.out what I was doing.

Voting at the polling place is fine, but I always felt rushed doing it there.

I did not feel rushed at all voting at home.

When I completed my ballot, I followed the instructions of preparing it to be mailed, waited for my wife and son to fill out their ballots, and the three of us sent out our ballots over the weekend.

Doing it this way this time around made it somewhat more exciting to vote again--in fact, my wife voted for maybe the first time since we were married more than 30 years ago.

The three of us voted for whoever we felt would fill the roles we voted for them for, and each of us made our own choices.

I personally stuck to my guns with my presidential choice, and I am proud of who I voted for.

If you live in New York State and want to vote by mail, go to the site listed at the end of this Rant and follow the instructions.

It is really simple to do, and better yet, it was fun to do.

Will I do it again?

I don't know, but this particular experience was so positive, that I will definitely consider doing it again in the future.

https://elections.ny.gov/request-ballot

Rant #3,555: Goodbye, Columbus (NOT)

Happy New Year to everyone, Jew and non-Jew alike.

And happy Columbus Day to all of us--

Don't get me started on Indigenous People's Day, which is not only a bunch of nonsense, but perpetuates the very stereotypes that it seeks to eradicate.

If you believe the portrayal of the indigenous people as being serene, cerebral, spiritual, quiet and less violent than their white counterparts who "stole" their land, than you buy into nothing more than a true stereotype.

Indian tribes dispatched with other Indian tribes with the ferocity of obliteration, and while not all indigenous people were violent and warlike, the stronger groups thought nothing of removing other tribes off the face of the planet for land and for other demonic purposes, so the thinking is that they were truly no better than the white man.

It is just so funny, and ridiculous, how this day is handled today.

Sure, Columbus has become something of a myth, for what he did, what he actually did, and how he has been portrayed.

But in today's over-sensitive, woke world about the past, he is looked at as an evil figure by some, a white imperialist of the worst magnitude.

On the other side, you have generations of people--including those of Hispanic and Italian background--who look at Columbus as a true hero.

Heck, there was a thought a few years ago, and that still comes up every couple of years, that Columbus was actually Jewish, and went on his trip to "America" to get away from Spain and the terrors Jews experienced during the Spanish Inquisition.

Whatever the case, Columbus has become quite a controversial figure in modern times, and any recognition he has received in our country--such as statues and the naming of cities after him--now comes under tremendous scrutiny.

Statues of him come under attack by those so woke that while they truly believe they can change the past, they cannot see the forest for the trees, because their own generation has much to apologize for.

I love how the media handles the day. Kind of straddling between two myths, Columbus as the "discoverer" of America and the "placidness" and "non-violent nature" of indigenous people.

Banks put signs in their windows to alert the public thst they are closed on "Columbus Day," but there is at least one bank that alerts the public thst they are closed on "Indigenous Peoples Day/Columbus Day," I guess so as not to.offend anyone while, in fact, offending everyone.

(Just as an aside, this bank.is a foreign-headquarted bank, has a manifesto that is clearly anti-white when it comes to hiring and promotion of executives, and was just cited by federal authorities, and heavily fined, for money laundering.)

So today is Columbus Day, has been a holiday for generations, and no matter what these woke imbeciles say, will always be Columbus Day.

Look, any holiday celebrating a major figure is going to be filled with lots of facts and lots of myths--Washington's Birthday, Lincoln's Birthday, and yes, even though we might not like to.admit it, Martin Luther King Day too--so the best way to handle these days is to go with the flow, take these days for what they are and--

Enjoy the day off.

We don't get too many of these in the calendar, so enjoy them when they come.

Happy Columbus Day to all!

And to those who wish to disparage the day and Columbus himself--

Chill out!

Rant #3,554: Wishin' and Hopin'

Yes, I have taken a breath from yesterday's Rant, and now, I have to move on from it ... nit totally forget about it, but continue to try to learn from it.

Tonight, at sundown, begins the holiest holiday on the Jewish calendar, Yom Kippur.

The best way to talk about it here is to put up what I wrote about it more than a dozen years ago, in Rant #811, dated September 25, 2012.

So here it is, in edited form.

"Yom Kippur begins tonight at sundown.

For Jews around the world, this is the holiest time of the year, the time where we pause to reflect on what we did the past year and how we can begin anew in the new year.

Even many non-observant Jews follow this holiday, and this is the only time that they venture into a synagogue during the entire calendar year.

Prayer and reflection are paramount here, as is refraining from drinking or eating anything for the duration of the holiday.

Some Jews don't even bathe, watch television, drive cars or do anything but pray and fast during this period, which ends tomorrow night at sundown, or when the shofar is blown at Yom Kippur services.

I, personally, don't go to that extreme. I do not go to synagogue but again this year, I will be fasting.

From my personal experience, fasting is not hard to do. Sure, it takes you out of your routine, but it really isn't that difficult to do for a day.

What is difficult is doing it while you are in synagogue. The constant getting up and sitting down--when the Torah is displayed--makes it very difficult.

I remember in the old days, you would hear women crying in the back of the synagogue. Not eating can do that to you.

As far as my family, my wife has tried and can't do it, my son the same, my daughter, I know she has tried but she can't do it, either..

I have to tell you, after I fast I feel very, very good. It is almost as if everything bad in my body has been cleansed out of it by fasting. I might have a little buzz headache, but this is something I have been doing continually since I was 12 or 13, so I am pretty much used to it.

So to all my Jewish friends, and to all of those people I know who aren't, Happy New Year to everyone."

But this year, things are different.

Jews around the world have had a horrible year, with the Israel-Hamas War showing no end, and the resultant spikes in anti-Semitism reaching historic--and reprehensible--numbers.

We--and the world--should hope for a better new year, a year when peace is the goal, but the way the world is today, this will be a goal that is going to be difficult to accomplish.

The new year brings new hope, and let's hope that this hope comes to fruition.

May the war come to an end, may all the hostages be released and come home, and may there be a lasting peace in thst part of the world, and throughout our world in its entirety.

Happy new year to all!

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

Rant #3,553: Emotional Rescue

As I have told you in the past, October is absolutely the worst month, at least for myself and my family.

Today is anniversary of an incident that will irk me for the rest of my life--

October 10, 2024 is the fifth anniversary of the day that the company I worked for for nearly a quarter of a century went out of business, leaving its remaining six employees out on our butts with little to show for our years of work and dedication to this company.

I cannot speak for anyone else, but I knew that once the hammer dropped, at least for me, this was the beginning of the end for me as a full-time salaried worker.

Not that I was necessarily old, but in the business world, age 62 might as well as be age 102, because I was, and still am, considered to be unemployable due to my age.

Five years ago today was the beginning of a downward spiral, one which I am just now getting my head out of, but while I knew finding another job would be difficult, I truly had no idea what awaited me.

First of all, in early October 2019, no one on this planet could have any idea about what was just around the corner, meaning the COVID-19 pandemic.

Whether you bought into it lock, stock and barrel or not, it changed this world forever, and as for me, trying to find a new job during late 2019 and into 2020 was the proverbial finding a needle in a haystack, and to this day, no one has found my needle.

I had four interviews during this time, two in person--just before everything shut down--and two over the phone, and that was it.

I also had one supposed interview early on where I was told about five minutes before I left to drive to the company that the interview was canceled, without a reason given, and I have never heard from the company again.

I sent out more than 1,000 resumes from October 2019 to October 2020, and other than these four potential employers and the near potential employer --again, all.of these coming before the pandemic hit--I never heard back from a single employer ... not a one.

Quite simply, I could not get arrested ... and I applied for jobs both in and out of my field--and as you know, I still do--but no one is interested, not t age 62, and certainly not at age 67.

I have certainly been a victim of age-related bias ... but go prove it.

In the midst of all of this, I was immediately denied unemployment due to a glitch in my file with New York State, where a case I filed against the unemployment division 25 years before--and which was officially settled not in my favor--was never formally closed.

So for the first several weeks of my unemployment, I could not get any money coming in, until an enterprising unemployment department executive in the state capitol of Albany listened to me, and put things in motion for that mistake on their part to be taken care of--

I finally received unemployment, a lifeline that kept me solvent during this very difficult time.

Also during this time, I won a judgment against what I call "The McDonald's of Physical Therapy," where I was grossly overcharged, and taken advantage of, when I used them for physical therapy a few months prior.

In both cases, I was minutes away from getting a lawyer and suing, but happily, neither case got that far.

And yes, many other things happened to myself and my family, of varying degrees, to make 2020 about the worst year of my life.

My father passed away, and dementia began its three-year path to take my mom away from us.

My son also lost his job, doing so during the pandemic, so during 2020, the only person working in my household was my wife.

I was working in a different way--trying to find work each and every day and keeping an eye on my parents and for that matter, my son.

The only good thing that happened during the year is that right before I was to lose my unemployment, I got the job I have now, as a remote editor/writer, and the only reason I got it was because certain people with this Washington, D.C.-based trade organization knew my work from my previous 23 and a half years, and I fit exactly what they needed.

My son was later rehired by his former company--at my urging--and that was also a good thing.

2020 turned into 2021 and then 2022 and then 2023, but things were really spiraling into the abyss.

My nine-year-old car died in the middle of the street in June 2023, and this was an omen of things to come ... none of which were very good.

My mother's health had worsened, and she ended up going into a coma when I was on a cruise with my family and other family members.

It was impossible to get home from where we were, so I stuck it out, counting the hours until I was able to get home when the cruise ended.

She somehow managed to hold out, and passed away just a few days after I arrived home.

Her death, as painstaking as it was, dovetailed into a mess that only subsided early this year.

We put our house--my home of 50 years--onto the market, because the Town of Oyster Bay caught wind of my mother's passing, and with her out of the picture, it wasn't a legal mother/daughter house anymore--

And thus, we were breaking the law by living there.

We got the best price we could on the house, but due to situations beyond my or my sister's control, the two of us received little from the sale.

In the meantime, we thought the town meant business, so we literally cleaned out the house top to bottom, and my wife and I found a small apartment nearby to set up shop again.

It is nice, but it is about 30 leaps down from residing in a house.

(Little did we know that the town lost our paperwork, and we could have stayed in the house longer than we did, as there ended up being no rush to vacate, as the buyer also dragged his feet, too.)

We finally sold the house early this year, and it is still hard to believe that we don't live there anymore.

But the evil forces were not yet done with us, not by a long shot.

Bringing a bag of garbage down the house's stairway, I somehow--I still can't figure it out--missed stepping on the next-to-last stair of the stairway, and my left knee T-boned a box of photo albums that we were in the process of moving.

My leg buckled, I was rushed to the hospital, and eventually, they found that i had a torn quad muscle in my left leg.

Surgery ensued, and I was bed-bound for months, and could not help my wife and son at all when we moved into our new dwelling.

But it was only the beginning ...

In the new dwelling, I somehow got to a closet door, opened it, and the contents of the closet fell directly on me, tearing my quad for the second time in a month.

Another surgery ensued, and while I was even more bed-bound than before, I soon began a 10-month program of physical therapy, which ends today.

But in the meantime, I went through mental things related to my situation that no one could ever foresee.

I always knew I would get better; that wasn't the problem.

I could not sleep, and being almost entirely bed-bound made my sleep in my own bed impossible, so whatever sleep I got was on the living room sofa.

Through a lot of determination--and a lot of help from others--I overcame that, and once I was able to drive my car again after a six-month hiatus, just about everything returned to normal with myself and my family.

Things are better now, but quite frankly, they will never be the same.

When you are forced to retire rather than to make that choice on your own, nothing can be what it once was.

I don't like being forcibly retired, and I don't like that no employer would take a chance on me, presumably due to my age.

Again, go prove it.

And going back to October 10, 2019, I have spoken to a few of my former fellow employees, and it seems that nothing came easy for any of us 

We all had difficult times finding work--our ages ranged from the mid-40s to the 60s--and if we did eventually find a job, none of us are getting paid what we were making five years ago.

In fact, one person only got a job because I vouched for her, portraying myself as her supervisor during the hiring pricess when I was only her co-worker in a different department.

That is what people do when they are desperate for work, as the six of us were, and probably, still are.

I could help her, but no one--not any of my fellow co-workers, other former co-workers, contacts, others--no one could help me ... but at least I could help someone else.

So here I am, five years later.

Things have started to get back to normal, but I don't think it will ever get back to normal for me.

Sorry for the length of today's Rant--i know it is a bit long-winded--but unless you have walked in my shoes, you have absolutely no idea, none at all, about what has gone on since October 10, 2019, and how it has affected myself and my family.

Five years is a longer time than you might think it is ... on the other hand, it hasn't been quite enough time for me to fully heal from my wounds, both figuratively and literally, and also mentally.

But I do believe that I am up to the task, and continue to work each and every day to make sure that whatever demons I have don't come back--

EVER.

Rant #3,552: We Gotta Get Out of This Place

Good luck to all of those in Florida.

Hurricane Milton looks like the real deal, making Hurricane Helene look like a weak sister in comparison.

And with a good portion of the state decimated by the prior storm, this newst storm could not have come at a worse time.

Tampa, Orlando and several other prime spots are almost certain to be hit, and what makes it even worse is that the hurricane is set to begin its wrath in the middle of the night.

It reminds me of Hurricane Charley, which hit Orlando head on in 2009.

The reason I remember that hurricane so well is that my family and I were on vacation--yes, in the outskirts of Orlando--when the storm hit that August.

And I remember that it was terrifying.

We were at our time share that we had at the time. 

We were told to bring in all the outdoor furniture that was on our patio, and to lock our doors and stay in.

My family prepared pretty well.

Our car had plenty of gas--the lines were outrageous--and we had plenty of food in our villa.

So we stayed in and prepared fir the worst.

I remember that not only was it dark out when Charley came, but the Hurricane literally made it pitch black outside, the darkest black I have ever seen.

We completely lost power, so we were in the pitch black, and I used a fully-charged DVD player for light.

And when Charley hit, it was loud, so loud that there was no way you could sleep through it; in fact, I stayed in the living room that night, just to make sure nothing was blown out by the ferocity of the storm, and my wife and son stayed in the bedroom.

I only hoped that the next morning, my car would still be where I parked it and wouldn't be damaged.

Happily, somehow, the three of us got to sleep for an hour or two, and when the morning came, my car had a lot of displaced shrubbery around it and on top of it, but nothing more.

We were located just out of Orlando, so we were spared the worst of the storm ... but Orlando did get hit head on.

We drove around, and the decimation was quite apparent.

I remember the only thing opened the next morning was Burger King, and the lines we waited on to get inside the restaurant were blocks long--

Made up of New Yorkers on vacation, just like us.

But we survived, as did the state.

Milton appears to be another matter altogether, and I hope Florida can pull through once again.

With so many family and friends there, I wish everyone good luck ...

And the faster Milton exits, the better.

Rant #3,551: Every Day I Write the Book

I had a test done at my doctor first thing in the morning yesterday, and it came out quite well, so my day started off pretty nicely.

Later on in the day, my family and I--this includes my sister's family--finally closed out the bank account that helped sustain my mother in her final years.

Without going into too much detail, it was the account where we took care of any and all of the bills she accrued during the last years of her life.

There wasn't much left in the account, so we finally closed it down for good.

As I drove to the bank to help get this done, I felt kind of sad about the finality of all of this, but it is something we really had to do, and it was the time to do it.

During my mother's final years, we took care of all of her debts with this account, as well as anything she needed during that time.

Happily, that account was able to provide everything she needed, and she never had to worry about her finances during those last years.

With her dementia, she really couldn't handle her finances, so that account was her financial lifeline as she entered her 90s.

So yes, I was a bit sad while I did what I did in the bank, but there was no sense in keeping the account going.

Another chapter closed ... and it is probably the final chapter.

Otherwise, yesterday was a pretty quiet day, and maybe that is how it should have been.

I miss my mom, and my dad, but life goes on.

Yesterday ended up being a day to reflect on my parents, right in between the holiest days on the Jewish calendar, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur.

And on the one-year anniversary of the Hamas massacre in Israel.

And as I do every year, later this week, I will be fasting on Yom Kippur. I am the only one in my family who does it, and when I do it, I feel as if I am not just doing it for myself, but I am also doing it for my family.

My parents led the way for me, and they participated in the fast as long as they could.

I am simply picking up the baton from them, and running with it, so the fast not only shows my reverance for God, but also for my parents, and the legacy they left behind on our family.

Everyone has a book of many chapters, and an account, that needs to be rendered each day, month and year.

My father used to say that during Yom Kippur, God is writing in his book the names of those who will make the "cut" to live on for another year, and also those who wouldn't survive, so we fasted because the act demonstrated to God that we were serious about erasing our sins, and we wanted to go on for the new year.

So God had his own rendering to make, to either keep you going or to close the book on you.

And the closing of the account that helped my mom, I could look at it as the "final chapter," as I mentioned earlier, but I guess I can also look at it as the "next chapter," for our family ... and I can look at this year's Yom Kippur in the same exact way.

Yes, I like "next chapter" a bit better.

Rant #3,550: Strength

Today is the one-year anniversary of that horrid day when Hamas terrorists attacked Israel.

Nothing has been the same since that day, and I don't have to go into the why's and wherefores of that day any more than I have during the past 12 months.

You can bet that there will be plenty of protests, worldwide, on this continued conflict.

You will have those supporting Israel and what they have had to do since they were attacked, and on the other side, you will have the terrorists groupies, who support Hamas and Hezbollah and pretty much go against the grain of any semblance of right and wrong.

And you still have at least 100 hostages of all ages being held by terrorists. Many of them are dead, and to demonstrate the babarism of the terrorists, they still retain these dead, lifeless bodies ... for what purpose only they know.

The world dropped the ball when Hamas attacked, raped and pillaged innocent people, and the windows of opportunity closed when Israel found that the world was not jumping to its defense right after October 7 as it should have.

And today, much of the world blames Israel, simply for defending itself against terrorists who have a clear objective: to destroy Israel and wipe out all Jews, period.

Most polls have shown that Americans generally support Israel in its current plight, but you do have factions of our population who do not get it, showing their anti-Semitic colors at the drop of a hat.

Fools they are, fools they will forever be.

On another front, I did something this past weekend that I hadn't done in a while--I applied for a job.

Newsday--yes, the same publication which, just a few months ago, physically kicked me out of their offices--again is advertising for freelance writers and editors for one of its online features, and once again, I have applied for the job.

Yes, I applied for this exact same job months ago, and it led nowhere, and I am sure it will lead nowhere once again ... but at the very least, it gave me the opportunity to update my resume.

In the past, Newsday, i suspect, has discriminated against me because of my age, but I cannot prove it.

For many people my age who have gone through this, age-related job discrimination is nearly impossible to prove, but it exists.

I fit this latest job to a "T," in both skills and background, but being age 67 ... well, even at age 62 I was thought to be "too old," so being 67 just is another notch against me.

So to tie the two subjects on this Rant together, I have to take a wait and see attitude on both of these topics ...

But something tells me the outcome is not going to be very good on either front.

Rant #3,549: Life's Been Good

Next week is my final week with physical therapy.

I have prospered, and greatly improved, by going to PT about twice a week, but the end is coming next week.

I have two more sessions--one on Tuesday and the other on Thursday--and that is that.

I actually, technically, have three more sessions, but the extra session would extend past October 10, which I am not allowed to do--the scrip is dated and won't allow it--so next Thursday will be the end.

Some people told me that physical therapy would be difficult--

Even more difficult than the two operations I had on my leg.

You know, "The cure is worse than the disease."

But you know, I never minded PT at all.

Maybe it had to do with another saying, "misery loves company."

But I worked hard at PT, and yes, it was hard, but it has all paid off for me.

Also doing my exercises at home, I feel that I beat this thing, or at least beat it as much as humanly possible.

I went from having to learn to walk again to being able to do the treadmill, elliptical, and the stationary bike all on my own.

And I was able to get back to all of my usual tasks, and get my life back again.

And with the help of a number of talented physical therapists--including one who grew up in Rochdale Village in Queens, just like me!--I did the work, and did what I needed to do to get better.

I have to say that from day one--actually two day ones, one for each operation--I kept my head up, and truly believed that I would get better in due time--

And I did just that.

When my physical therapy ends next Thursday, I will continue to do my exercises at home, continue to adjust my diet, and continue to do what I have to do to be in the best shape I can be in, because I don't want to fall back a millimeter from where I am now.

I could join a gym, but honestly, I am not a gym person like my wife is.

I think I can do everything I need to do at home, and on the grounds of the development we live in.

(No, the development does not have any exercise amenities--nor any amenities at all--so I am going to have to be creative in my new home exercise routine.)

On Monday, I have an early doctor's appointment for some tests, which I am sure I will.pass with flying colors.

As I told you, the headache of what health insurance we are going to use in 2025 has all but been taken care of, so that worry is supposedly in the rear view mirror.

And with Yom Kippur coming up.next week, I am ready to fast, I am ready to atone for my sins, and I am ready to move into the new year with good health.

Let's hope I can put this all behind me and move on--

Onward and upward!

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

Rant #3,548: I Really Need To Know

Happy new year to all my Jewish friends and everyone else!

The year 5785 began yesterday at sundown, and we are now in the middle of the two-day celebration of Rosh Hashanah, followed up by Yom Kippur next week.

Yesterday, as the old year was turning into the new one, my wife and I spoke to pur insurance broker, and we settled on two plans for our heath insurance in the coming year--

One that is better for my wife and one that is better for me.

It just worked out that way, related to our doctors, which don't always overlap.

Funny, I had a sneaking suspicion that we would have separate plans, and my thought came to fruition.

We can sign up for these plans on or after October 15, and they don't begin until the regular new year dawns, on January 1.

So we have continuous coverage, no lapses.

After what I have been through the past year, I simply cannot afford a lapse in coverage, even for a day.

So even if this is a nuisance, by mid-month, we will put this problem to bed, and we hopefully won't have to worry about this anymore ...

Fat chance, but one can hope.

Otherwise, the last day of the Jewish year rolling into the new Jewish year was uneventful.

I will bet that in Israel, that isn't the case.

Air raid sirens and missiles permeate the air, and I cannot possibly imagine what the people there are going through.

It did not have to be this way.

The free world should have galvanized itself with Israel a year ago, and the conflict would not have escalated to the point that it is at right now.

But the world dragged its feet during the ensuing days and months, and it gave terrorists and their followers time to galvanize themselves.

And what's worse, many world leaders began to blame Israel for the carnage and for the overall situation in that part of the world.

Factions of terrorist groupies were able to form around the world, and their actions against sanity--and specifically against Jews--were unfathomable.

During this new year, we must hope that Israel is victorious, that the hostages are freed, and that terrorist organizations pay a stiff price for their insipid behavior.

This new year, Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur will be a bit different.

Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are holidays of introspection, but this year, we must also look outward.

And the question we must ask is very obvious.

"How could something like this happen?"

A simple question, but not a simple answer--

But it is a question that must be asked, and it is a question that must be replied to, as succinctly and as honestly as possible.

Rant #3,547: A Brand New Me

Tonight at sunset begins the first night of Rosh Hashanah, one of the holiest, most important holidays on the Jewish calendar.

During the two-day holiday, Jews around the world will assess not only themselves personally, but also the horrid world events that have engulfed the Middle East for just about a year.

There seems to be no end in sight in the war and carnage in that area, and with Iran firing rockets into Israel, there will be no end until the world recognizes, and acknowledges, that Hamas and Hezbollah are terrorists, not militants as they have been characterized as, and that they both must be defeated so that Israel--and really the entire civilized world--can feel safer again.

Jews have had to put up with a lot during the past year, and Rosh Hashanah gives us a time to reflect, and hope for the best during the new year.

Coupled with next week's Yom Kippur, these are the most important dates on the Jewish calendar, and Jews the world over will reflect, pray for peace, and hope the hostages can gain their freedom.

Let's look back at the holiday by going back to Rant #91, dated September 18, 2009. Here it is in edited form:

"Tonight is the start of the holiest period during the year for Jews around the world. Rosh Hashanah commences this period, starting at sundown. This holiday continues for the next two days, and is followed by Yom Kippur, the holiest day on the Jewish calendar.

Although I am not a religious Jew by any stretch of the imagination, I do participate in these holidays. They are holidays that ask Jews to examine their strengths, and weaknesses, during the past year and to reflect on how they can improve themselves during the upcoming year. They are holidays of both introspection and group prayer.

During Yom Kippur, observant Jews fast, to show their forgiveness to God, and also to show their strength."

Personally, my family and I have had a very, very rough year, and we hope that the new year brings us extra strength and good tidings.

I have asked myself how I can be better during the new year, how I can improve myself, and how I can be a better person.

This year, I do not have an answer to those questions.

Personally, I believe I have been through so much during the past year, and I have been forced to be introspective during this period.

Why me? Why did I have to go through all of this? Was I being punished for something I did or did not do?

If not for the strong family backbone that I am very lucky to have, I don't know where I would be during this past year.

Things are getting better, physically, for me each and every day, so I am evidently winning the battle.

But how can I be a better person?

For the first time ever, I do not have an answer.

The only answer that I can come up with is that one can always be better ...

But how?

L'Shana Tova to all.

Rant #3,546: Life

And I knew that October would be a horrid month for myself and my family, but I had no idea it would be this bad.

In yesterday's mail was a letter from our Medicare Advantage health care provider, alerting us that as of December 31, 2024, they would not be providing us with Medicare health coverage anymore.

There was no explanation at all ... they are just dropping us, and thousands of others I would assume.

I had heard that this was about to happen to some people--I did not know that this group would include myself and my family--because some insurance companies have decided that it was not worth the effort to.provide such coverage to older citizens for a variety of reasons, including profitability.

And you must replace this coverage before the end of the year, or you will lose your coverage and your prescription coverage too.

So my wife and I tag-teamed trying to find out a solution to this problem.

I called the New York State of Health, while my wife called our health insurance company.

The guy I spoke to said starting later this month, I could start to shop for a replacement plan, which I can tell you is an oncredible time-consuming pain in the tuckis.

My wife ended up speaking to a broker, who, over the next hour or 90 minutes, took down all of our medical.information, our doctors, our prescriptions, and everything else about us that he needed to know.

He will do a phone meeting with my wife and I on Wednesday afternoon, and maybe we can find out just who is going to insure us beginning in 2025.

This is a nuisance beyond belief.

When you have no union to provide your insurance when you retire, when you are forced to retire against your will with little to show for your decades of work, this is what happens.

Bottom of the barrel health coverage.

All the legwork is on you, and you are at the will of the insurance companies who really don't care about you in the least.

Funny, after hours of this nonsense, I had work to do, and went into my email--

And the first email i saw was one from our soon-to-be former health care provider.

It was the company's monthly newsletter, and upon seeing it, I sent it back to them with a message--"You are not insuring us anymore--who cares!"

I then trashed the email, probably as quickly as they trashed myself, my family, and thousands of others.

It is difficult getting older, but it really should not be THIS difficult.

And we are only at the first day in October ... what other pleasures will arise during.this wretched month?