Rant#3,747: Crazy Train, Part 2

That Crazy Train that we spoke about the other day has two new passengers.

Chuck Mangione was an extremely popular flugelhorn player, and he had one major pop hit, "Feels So Good" in 1978.

Like with Ozzy, you won't find any Mangione records in my record collection.

But he was an extremely popular presence on TV and records in the late 1970s and early 1980s, and I have a nice little anecdote about him.

On July 4, 1983, the New York Yankees played the Boston Red Sox at Yankee Stadium, and I think Mangione played the National Anthem before the day game.

He was invited up to the TV booth, and he hobnobbed with Phil Rizzuto, Bill White and Frank Messer, and yes he was a big Yankees fan, growing up in Rochester, N.Y.

But there was way more going on on the field that day than in the broadcasting booth.

That day, the Yankees' Dave Righetti pitched a no-hitter against the hated Red Sox, so Mangione, at least for a while, was thought to be a good luck charm for the Bronx Bimbers, and he made additional appearances at the Stadium for a few times after that monentous day.

One further side story to Mangione, and that day in particular, was that my future wife attended that game--

Not with me--I hadn't met her yet--but with some other guy.

I found this out from my late father-in-law, a staunch Mets fan who told me several years ago that that was the first game his daughter had ever attended at Yankee Stadium.

My wife has no recollection of being there, but let's just say I won't push her about it.

As for Hulk Hogan--

Whatever you thought of him, you definitely knew his name, and along with Bruno Sammartino, without him, professional wrestling would have never reached the heights it now enjoys.

Sammartino was the face of pro wrestling from the mid-1960s through probably the early 1980s.

Even if you never saw a wrestling match, you knew of Sammartino, who was as real a deal as the sport had during this time period--

But he probably unknowingly passed the baton to the Hulkster, and Hogan never looked back.

Hogan carried pro wrestling on his burly  shoulders from about the mid-1980s through at least the early 2000s, helping to make pro wrestling less a small-time sideline attraction to the cultural and worldwide phenomenon it is today.

He was ubiquitous, and like Sammartino, you didn't have to know wrestling, but you knew Hogan.

But he took it up a notch from what Samnartino did, or could ever dreamed about.

A mix of a beach bum and a football lineman, the bottle-blond 6'7" Hogan looked the part.

Hogan initially encountered wrestling fans as a grappler who didnt say much, letting his raw strength and size do the talking.

But eventually, he gained a voice, and who could ever forget him ripping his shirt to shreds--exposing a tremendous physique--as he was ready to do his thing in his matches.

He spawned "Hulkamania," and this encapsulated just about everything you could think of.

At one point, he was just about everwhere you looked--not just in wrestling rings from coast to coast and around the world, but on Saturday morning cartoons, in the movies ... heck, you could even buy his likeness in any amount of items, from toys to Halmoween costumes.

He was pro wrestling's first marketing phenomenon, and they took this phenomenon all around the world, making sports entertainment perhaps among the greatest entertainment entities of the 21st century.

Hulk--whose real name was Terry Bollea--was not without personal faults, including being involved in a sex scandal tape and some other sordid episodes, but he resonated with the public through the bad and the good.

He wrestled for WWE, TNA and several other organizations, but he was the one grappler who was bigger than any of the groups who had him on their rosters.

If there was a Mount Rushmore for pro wrestlers, Sammartino and Hogan would be shoo-ins for inclusion.

Hopefully, that Crazy Train is now full, and there won't be room for anyone else for a long time.

R.I.P.

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

Rant #3,746: The Letter

Yes, as you probably already know if you live on Long Island, my letter was published in the Letters to the Editor section in Newsday yesterday.

I sent my letter in last week, and I had absolutely no idea that it would find its way into the newspaper.

I have had dozens of letters, stories and mentions in Newsday during the past more than 50 years, and usually what they do is to contact you when they are interested in publishing your letter, alert you that they have the right to edit it, and to look for it in the newspaper.

But this time, I was never contacted, so I am as  surprised as you were when I saw it in the newspaper yesterday morning.

Anyway, if you didn't see it, it is in the photo above, and it has to do with CBS canceling its "Late Show" franchise 

I won't go over what I said in the letter--please read it yourself--and you are free to agree or disagree with me.

Look, I am a professional writer, have been one for 40 years or more, and my stuff is in print, all over the Internet, and it all started in 1963 or so, at least as far as seeing my name in print is concerned.

The first time i can remember seeing my name in print was in the literary magazine put out by P.S. 165 in Flushing, the school I went to in kindergarten and first grade when my family and I lived in Kew Gardens Hills, Queens.

I wrote something short about voting, and I loved seeing my name in print from that point on.

In about 1965 or so, I was really into my comic book collection, and now a resident of Rochdale Village in South Jamaica, Queens, I wrote a batch--at least 20 or 30 postcards--to various comic book titles put out by DC Comics, the home of Superman and Batman.

Fir several months, I looked in each and every title I wrote to, and finally, I saw my name in the Letters section of a "Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen" comic book, and i yelled and screamed and screeched with glee as I walked back home from the comic book store.

I think a couple of other Letters turned up in the Letters section of other comic books through the end of the decade of the 1960s, and by late summer 1971, we had moved to Massapequa Park on Long island, and my writing did not stop.

My name appeared in various columns in Newsday--including several times in TV critic Marvin Kitman's column and Wayne Robins' music column--and I was being something of a very semi-regular in their pages.

I also think I got a letter or two into the Daily News during the early to mid-1970s, too.

And through the years, I have had dozens of mentions in Newsday ... Letters, feature stories, and stories covering my personal ups and downs.

In the meantime, through the 1970s, 1980s, 1990s and to this day, I became a professional writer, and my name has turned up in a wide variety of publications.

I have been in such publications as a book on Rochdale Village, a trivia book about The Monkees, and in People Magazine.

Some have gone international, and when I worked for nearly 25 years at my last job, my writing went to Europe, Asia and the Middle East.

And no, while it is certainly nice, I simply don't get as big a bang when I see my writings on the Internet.

There is nothing like seeing your work and your name on the printed page, and when I see just that as I did yesterday morning, it gives me a real rush.

Maybe I can have such a rush when I (hope to) get my novel published, but we shall see.

And as an aside, this time--and for the first time--i used my given name rather than my nickname.

I rarely use my given name--usually on official documents, and that's it--so yesterday, I received a double bonus--

Not only did I see my letter to the editor in print, but I also saw my given name printed in the media for the very first time.

Not a bad payout for something I didn't even know was going to be published.

Write On!

Rant #3,745: Crazy Train

Ozzy Osbourne has jumped onto the ultimate "Crazy Train," and he gave us a lot in his 76 years of life.

Parkinson's Disease took him, not biting off the head of bats.

I have to tell you, I was absolutely not a fan; I never really got into his music, didn't really like Black Sabbath, nor his solo and later material.

I have absolutely no records in my collection from him or his band.

I never watched his reality TV show, but I do give his wife, Sharon, a lot of credit for resurrecting this guy and making him something of a cultural phenomenon.

But he--and Black Sanbath--were among the true fathers of metal music--heavy and otherwise--and I know that some prople will mourn today as they mourn the passing of a close relative.

I also mourn the passing of Malcolm-Jamal Warner, one of the stars of the groundbreaking "The Cosby Show," who drowned while on vacation earlier this week.

He was an extremely talented actor, director, musician and poet, and it all started with that half-hour sitcom.

Forget what Bill Cosby did or did not do--Warner had nothing to do with any of that, and making him "guilty by association" is just so wrong.

If you want to see a real representative of a different time and place, watch "The Cosby Show," if you can find it.

I loved the show, never missed it, but that was 40 years ago, and the world has just changed so much since that time.

Two sad passings, but their legacies are fairly readily available.

I guess Osbourne is not the only one on that "Crazy Train."

It is just crazy that Warner is gone at such a young age, but he has a seat on that out-of-control train, too.

As does Connie Francis, come to think of it.

Sorry for the brevity of this post, but honestly, there really isn't much more to say, other than--

R I.P.

Rant #3,744: 1, 2, 3

My son and I attended the TNA Slammiversary event at the UBS Arena on Sunday night, and we had a fun time while there ...

Less the time spent in the car, of course.

Funny, the arena is just about 10 miles away from the Nassau Coliseum, but it is really worlds away from the old barn.

Driving was impossible, Sunday evening traffic was terrible, and I needed my phone's GPS to find our parking lot.

It took us about 45 minutes to get there, versus about the 20 minutes it normally takes us to go to the Coliseum.

Once there, we happily discovered that the parking lot we were in was a lot closer to the arena than where we parked five years ago when we were last there.

It cost more than $50 to park there; I wasn't too thrilled about that, but they have you by the you know what, because honestly, where else can you park?

(By the way, the actual tickets, individually, were cheaper than the parking!)

That time, we had to take a shuttle to even get to the outskirts of the arena ... and then, unbeknownst to us, we then had to walk halfway around the arena to get to the front entrance.

There was none of that this time, but once we entered, we ran into the usual detriments--

The food was incredibly over-priced--more than $8 for a single slice of pizza--and the merchandise lines were literally an hour-wait long.

But once we got settled, we saw a very good nearly four-and-a-half hour show, with several excellent matches, and the return of former TNA star AJ Styles to the fold, albeit very briefly and without consequence.

Once the show was over just before 11:30 p.m., we walked to our car, but the lighting wasn't good and it took us a couple more minutes to locate it.

Getting out was pretty bad, everyone going every which way to one single exit, and even using the GPS again, the lighting was so bad that I missed where I had to drive to to get home.

I managed to double back, but even getting on the right road and without traffic, we still didn't get home until slightly past 12 midnight.

So all in all, the show was a good one--the attendance was more than 7,600, a supposed record for a TNA show--but getting there, and getting out, were difficult, at best.

The UBS Arena is a nice, modern arena, but while it won't say I will never go back, I would so much rather see pro wrestling at Nassau Coliseum or Madison Square Garden--

But the best way remains watching it on TV in the comfort of your home.

Rant #3,743: Moonwalk

Yesterday was the 56th anniversary of a pretty big day in not only America's history, but also in world history.

It is hard to believe that it was so long ago, but on July 20, 1969, Neil Armstrong walked on the surface of the moon.

Being 12 years old at the time, I was as caught up in the buildup of all of this as everyone else.

We were going to do the impossible, something that had only been in the dreams of science fiction writers and real dreamers.

I remember that my family had been on our annual vacation to the Catskill Mountains during the days just prior to this event.

I really didn't like going to the Catskill Mountains at this point in my life, and I am sure I gave my parents hell during that week away.

I wanted to be with my friends, be in camp, and this vacation took all of that away from me.

And the anticipation of what was going to happen probably made my time away much, much worse.

I was really into this.

I read everything and anything I could about the mission, and at the time, one of my uncles had worked as an engineer on the prior Gemini program, and he periodically sent us pamphlets and information on that project, so at an early age, I was primed and ready for the Apollo space program.

As we left our vacation spot and drove home, I simply could not wait to get home.

When we finally did, I remember putting on our old black and white Dumont television in our living room--I think i put it on Channel 2, WCBS in New York, but I am not sure--and the news coverage had started early in the afternoon, so i just planted myself on the couch, and planned to watch the moonwalk.

And then Neil Armstrong did what was thought to be impossible--

"One small step fir man, one giant leap for mankind."

And all in glorious black and white.

I simply could not take my eyes off the screen. 

I was so mesmerized, I don't remember if my parents or my sister were watching with me.

It didn't matter.

I witnessed the impossible.

Sure, there were other subsequent moon missions in the Apollo program, and I watched them all, but once we did the impossible, the moonwalks became somewhat ho hum.

It wasn't just me.

Interest waned, and the other projects leading up to where we are now didn't do too much to pique interest in the space program.

There were other concerns to take care of here on earth, and interest in the space program just really hasn't been reignited during the past 50 years--

Even though numerous countries and private companies have gotten into the space act in recent years.

That maiden moonwalk gave Baby Boomers, in particular, perhaps the major focal point of our generation.

Yes, our generation were dreamers.

But the moonwalk gave us reason to believe dreams can come true--

Something no succeeding generation can make claim to.

Maybe that is what is wrong with our planet.

When you can dream, and make the impossible possible, then the sky is literally the limit.

That first moonwalk galvanized the world, and if for just a few moments, we were literally brothers in arms, forgetting our differences and demonstrating that with all those differences, we were the human race.

There is nothing like this today, and maybe, that is the problem.

People don't dream anymore, and let's be honest about it--

Most people alive today were not even born yet when Armstrong took those first steps on the moon.

It is ancient history to them, if even that.

I am hoping that during the next few years, we, as a civilization, can experience another such galvanizing moment--

When astronauts reach, land on, and walk on Mars.

I am certainly hoping that I am around for that event, but most importantly, i am hoping that the younger generation has their moment, just like my generation had their moment when Armstrong took the maiden steps on the moon.

We need something to bring us all together, and a Mars walk might just be it.

Rant #3,742: Connie-O

Yes, I had another busy day yesterday.

I did have that work meeting, and I had my regular work to do, plus I was on the phone several times trying to obtain services for my son.

Yes, it does get to you after awhile.

My son will be taking his first Civil Service test in September.

One of his counselors suggested that we look into it, and the job he will be taking a test for might be a good one for him.

So he will take the test, hopefully pass, and then we will see what happens.

All told, the ridiculously busy part of my day was pretty much over by 3 p.m., so I was able to breathe a little bit--

And I ate a nice, juicy apple to celebrate.

And yes, one of our great singers just left us.

Connie Francis was the biggest selling female singer until Madonna came around, and while I won't say I was a big fan of Francis, I did like some of her songs, especially "Where the Boys Are," which features one of the greatest vocals of the rock era.

She will be missed.

And to close out the week, I am going to post another chapter of my novel for you to engage with.

I haven't done this in a few weeks, so another chapter is due--

And in all honesty, I am too pooped to write another long entry, so this will do for now.

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

Read on!

32

After a few minutes of talking and getting to know one another, Abraham Lincoln Panim and Ariel were approached by Charley, who brought them their order.

“Here is the coffee and the cheese Danishes, just like you like them, Ariel, and here is something for Snuff,” Charley said as he bent down and gave the dog a biscuit. “Nothing is too good for my friend Ariel and her new boyfriend.”

“He is not my boyfriend!” Ariel exclaimed, but she did it with a smile on her face that Abraham Lincoln Panim noticed right away while he continued to primp himself.

Ariel reached out, found the bowl with the individual creams in it, opened one up, and poured it into her coffee. Abraham Lincoln Panim drank his coffee black as he took the first bite into his cheese Danish. It had absolutely no effect on him, and he even kind of liked what he was eating.

“I have to tell you, Ariel, that when I was younger, I was very allergic to cheese,” he said, as he bit into the Danish, “but now, I guess I am over it. I kind of like cheese!”

The two continued to talk, and one conversation dovetailed into another.

“I know that you teach at the school … tell me something about yourself.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim took his hands out of his hair, took a long drink of coffee, and said, “Well, there really isn’t that much to tell. I grew up right here, have really never been anywhere out of this area … I was pretty much home schooled by an older lady as my mother went to work as the principal of the school that I teach at.”

“What about your father? What happened to him?”

Abraham Lincoln Panim tensed up a bit. “I really don’t know what happened to him. It’s one of those things … I really don’t want to talk about it.”

“I understand, sorry I brought it up.”

“No, that’s all right. My mom and that older lady, Mrs. Stottle … I had a nice childhood,” he replied, kind of gritting his teeth when he said “a nice childhood.”

“I mean, it was as good as it could be … I would rather look forward, not back, to tell you the honest truth. The best is still ahead of me, I really feel that.”

“I am so sorry I brought up your father … I did not know that he wasn’t in the picture for you.”

“No, don’t worry about it. What happened happened. It’s not important.”

Ariel and Abraham Lincoln Panim continued to converse and get to know each other, but they, and everyone else in the diner, were interrupted by a commotion up front between Charley and someone who had just entered the restaurant.

“Charley, is Ariel here? Is she here with that rat face?” yelled the man who had just entered the diner.

“You have to keep your voice down. You are scaring everyone here,” Charley replied.

“I don’t care. Where is she?” he yelled, and as he looked out at the rows of tables and chairs and the diners in the restaurant, he saw way to the back, and skirted all the tables and chairs and people to get to his destination.

As he got closer, Abraham Lincoln Panim could see that it was Brandon Hartung.

“What are you two doing here?” snapped Brandon as he approached the table where Ariel and Abraham Lincoln Panim were sitting.

“We are having a nice chat.” Ariel said, “This has nothing to do with you.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim saw that all eyes of the diners were on what was happening between the three of them, and not solely on him anymore. Even Snuff stopped eating his biscuit, and started to snarl.

He stood up, and looked right at Brandon.

“Look, Ariel and I were just talking,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said. “Nothing more. This does not include you. This has nothing to do with you.

“It has everything to do with me. Ariel and I—“

“Look, I would suggest that you move on. All you are doing is causing a commotion here.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t move on?” Brandon asked as he moved closer to Abraham Lincoln Panim.

People began to move from their tables as the two got closer to each other. Snuff tried to pull Ariel away from the table as his growling got louder.

“I am asking you for the last time to leave us alone,” Abraham Lincoln Panm said as Charley ran to the table.

“You two, you want to settle this, go outside and do it,” Charley said. “You don’t do it in my diner.”

“And what are you going to do if I don’t go away, rat-face boy?” Brandon asked as he cocked his right arm, the hand of which Abraham Lincoln Panim saw was covered with some type of crude glove, as if to prepare for a punch.

Almost instinctively, Abraham Lincoln Panim punched Brandon right into his jaw, knocking him on the floor. Brandon fell so hard that the covering came off of his right hand, to reveal that Brandon had a claw like a lobster instead of his hand.

Ariel bent down to Brandon as Snuff turned the attention of his snarling directly to Abraham Lincoln Panim.

“My glove, my glove!” Brandon screamed, and Snuff brought him the glove as he lay on the floor. He quickly put the glove on, still smarting from the punch.

“How could you do this? How could you cause such a scene?” Ariel screamed out to Abraham Lincoln Panim.

“I was just … I was just protecting myself. He was ready to throw a punch at me with his hand … his claw, whatever you want to call it.”

Charley put his hand on Abraham Lincoln Panim’s shoulder.

“Young man, I never want to see you again,” he said to Abraham Lincoln Panim. “The door is over there. Use it right now, and never come into this diner again!”

“But I was only—“

“Abraham Lincoln Panim, I never want to see you again,” Ariel shrieked as she continued to attend to the fallen Brandon. “You have embarrassed me, you are not my type of person. Get away from me right now.”

As Snuff continued to growl at Abraham Lincoln Panim, he weaved his way to the front of the diner as people stared at him, but not in the way he had been accustomed to.

He left the diner, walking home quickly through the park.

Rant #3,741: Slow Down

Yesterday was another one of those days.

My son and I met with the counselor from the Department of Employment, Suffolk County, and i have to say, it went pretty well.

He gave us some good ideas, some good things to think about, and for once, this guy seemed to be truly authentic.

He will be in touch with us, and I think we are on the right path now.

I hope ... .

We met with this counselor for like 90 minutes or two hours or so, and it took us like 40 minutes to get there, but I think it was well worth it.

I hope ... .

Now for the rest of the day.

I woke up at 7 a.m., and little did I know what was ahead of me.

I checked my email after showering and getting dressed, and I saw that at nearly 10 p.m. on Tuesday evening, I was sent a story to write up.

So right after I ate breakfast, I rushed to complete this story, because I knew I had a busy morning later on with my son.

I finished it, my son and I went to the counselor, and we arrived home at about 2 p.m.

I ate a quick lunch, and then, I saw I had a story to edit, and around 3 p.m., I finished that story.

I thought I would have time to do what the counselor suggested for my son, but lo and behold, I was hit by the proverbial bus, or a ton of bricks, or whatever you want to call it.

My work sent me something to write up, a huge thing that I knew would wipe out the rest of the afternoon--

Preventing me from doing what I wanted and needed to do and forcinh me to do exactly what i didn't want to do--

And it took me around a solid three hours to complete it.

I will have to do what I wanted and needed to do for my son sometime today--

Because I supposedly have a work meeting this morning, and you might remember the last work meeting I had, which I found out was canceled several minutes after I rushed to participate in it while in the library waiting for the late-in-arriving counselor to continue my son's assessment.

After I finished this 1,800-word horror show on Wednesday's early evening, I was talking to my wife about our situation, and I am going to let you in on some of the things we spoke about, much of which you already know.

My wife and I are both "retired," or at least the federal and state governments consider us to be so.

I "retired" against my will, she "retired" because she had had enough, working in a place which was kind of forcing her out.

My unemployment time started right before the pandemic started, and continued through almost the entirety of 2020, probably the absolute worst time in the world's history to be out of work and looking for a job, especially while in my early 60s.

After all that heartache, I was very, very lucky to get this remote editing/writing job as my unemployment benefits were about to run out. 

My wife went back to work on a part-time basis because 1) she was bored, and 2) she wanted to have some more money in her pocketbook.

In actuality, we both need to work, because retiring at the ages we did provided us with Social Security payments that don't pay for very much in this post-pandemic economic environment we are in.

Neither one of us received pensions for our years of work, but we did have 401ks, so with whatever other money we had--the sale of the house did not produce very much for us--we are far from indigent, but we want to enjoy our "retirement" without having to worry about finances--

Which we simply cannot do.

And what is "retirement?"

My wife and I have no clue, because we will probably be working for the rest of our lives.

Heck, all during the period when I tore my quad twice, when I couldn't get out of the bed, I continued to work.

If I didn't tell my work about my physical problems, they would have never known that I was operating on one leg for like six months!

In fact, when we go on vacation--we haven't been on one in a few years--I bring my laptop with me and I find the time to do my daily work, so I don't even have a break then.

No work, no pay, so even when we went on a cruise, i had to find the time to work.

And i have continued to work through my current medical concerns, without stopping.

My wife has had her own physical problems, but she also pushes on, and as you read this, she is at work at her part-time job.

And all through this, we are helping my son to look for work, and that, itself, has become something of a full-time job.

What is "retirement?"

My wife and I don't believe we will ever truly know.

And while I am not a jealous person, I am becoming increasingly envious of some of my peers, who are actually retired and wake up every day saying to themselves--

"What do I want to do today?"

They are retired.

My wife and I are not.

Rant #3,740: Time Won't Let Me

As usual, when I do something correctly, somehow, it just doesn't come out the way it is supposed to be.

I took my son to the local library for the latest part of his assessment, and the woman doing it was not there.

I told my son that maybe the woman was a little late, and that he should sit tight and wait for her while I set up my laptop computer for my own meeting for work.

I found a secluded spot, set the computer up, and lo and behold, i could not get on the Internet.

I tried everything, but to no avail.

I brought my phone with me, connected pretty quickly, but I could not hear a word that was being said.

So I figured I might get a better connection if I went to my car, and as I sped past my son, I saw that the woman still was not there--

And I told him to sit tight, and i would go into the car and find out what was going on.

I got to the car, and the first thing I did was to get back into my work meeting.

I did that pretty easily, and I could hear things loud and clear.

"The meeting was canceled," a voice told me.

I wondered why no one told me this beforehand so I wouldn't have had to rush and bring all this computer stuff with me--

And I later discovered that I did get sent an email, but a few minutes after the meeting was to be held.

So much for promptness!

But even with the cancelation, I still had to find out what was doing with today's portion of the assessment.

I called the woman from my car and left a message.

I went back to the library, and my son was sitting with the woman, who told me that she was a few minutes late.

Couldn't she have called or texted me to let me know about this?

Now that that was all set, I had some time to kill while the assessment was being done, so I figured I would use the library's computer to while away the time.

I put in my library code and password, but it would not take my password--

The same password I used last week to get on the computer when I first got my library card.

I went up to the help desk, and I told the woman my problem.

I told her my password, and she said that was impossible, because the system only takes numeric passwords.

I then told her that the system took my password last week, one which included both numbers and letters.

Rather than argue, we agreed I needed a new numeric password, I got it, and I was able to spend some time on the computer.

Why is everything torture?

Why is everything so difficult to do?

I have no idea, none at all.

But I seem to be in the middle of this situation.

I know nothing is easy, but things that should be simple always seem to end up convoluted.

We agree to a time to meet, you be there, and let me know if you are going to be late.

And if something is canceled, please let me know as this fact arises, not minutes afterward.

And as far as passwords, I remember when "Password" was a great TV game show.

I know my passwords, so don't tell me otherwise.

I guess "Torture" has become my new middle name.

This cannot possibly be what retirement is ...

On to the next assessment!

Rant #3,739: Many Rivers To Cross

To continue with what I was telling you yesterday, on Sunday, my son and I will be going to UBS Arena in Elmont, Long Island, to see TNA Wrestling's "Slammiversary" event live and in-person.

TNA--stands for "Total Non-Stop Action"--is sort of a poor stepchild to WWE wrestling, and over the past couple if months, the two pro wrestling groups have forged some type agreement, with wrestlers from both groups showing up on the others' programming.

I kind of like TNA wrestling, because it is more intimate and on a more personal scale than WWE is.

It reminds me of how it used to be, before wrestling became a worldwide phenomenon.

The UBS Arena is a beautiful facility, once you get inside 

But it is a pain to get to by car, and once you get there and park your car, you have to take a shuttle to the actual facilty--but you aren't quite there yet.

When we went to see a WWE show there right after it opened a few years back, the shuttle dropped us off at the side of the building, and we still had to walk halfway around the facility to get to the entrance.

And talking about the parking--

It cost me $50 plus tax, but you really don't have a choice, as there really isn't anywhere else you can park.

Yes, I would much rather go to Nassau Coliseum or Madison Square Garden to see pro wrestling.

Yes, the whole thing is annoying, but my son wanted to go, hoping to see other friends who are going to be there.

We bought the cheapest tickets we could--$30 each, and after other charges added on, it is like a "buy three, get two tickets" situation, so the other charges equal out to buying another ticket, but it amounts to only getting a "seat" for no one.

My son bought the tickets, so it is my job to spring for everything else; not just parking, but also food, T-shirt, etc.

Yes, I am getting too old for all of this, but it should be as much fun as it is annoying.

We could watch this on pay-per-view, but even that is ridiculously priced, so we will actually be there.

There are some very good athletes in TNA, and while it isn't WWE, it is sort of "the little train that could," and they always put on a good show, so it should be fun.

But after the busy week I will have had by Sunday, I might as well add another brick to the load with something that is fun.

I dread going to the UBS Arena, but I will be OK once I am there ...

And once we get home.

But let's get through the important stuff that continues today with the next part of my son's assessment, and we will cross that other bridge when we come to it--

By shuttle, of course.

Rant #3,738:1, 2, 3 and I Fell

Today is the beginning of a busy week for myself and my family.

My wife has an important doctor's appointment to go to today, and then tomorrow, my son has another part of his assessment--and at the same time, I have another work meeting that I have to attend.

How can i be in two places at once? 

My son has to do the assessment with just his counselor, without my presence.

And since it is taking place in the local library, I will bring my laptop with me, and participate in the meeting there.

I bought cheap headphones at the Dollar Store last week, so while I cannot get it hooked up via Bluetooth, I can plug it into the computer, so I will find a secluded spot in the library, and get this done.

On Wednesday, the guy from the New York State Department of Labor finally got in contact with us, so we have a meeting with him on that morning at the office in Patchogue, which is a good hike for us, but we will be there.

Let's see what he has to say about his version of an assessment.

On Thursday, I have to take my son back and forth to work, and I also have another work meeting in the morning.

Friday, I get a break ... sort of.

We have to do our food shopping on that day, and in the early evening, I will take my son to his weekly basketball scrimmage.

Then comes the weekend--

I will tell you about that later in the week.

And I have to weave my work responsibilities in and out of all of this.

It is good to be busy, but this is a bit much.

Would I rather have absolutely nothing to do?

No, being busy fills up plenty of time, and it keeps me on my toes, figuratively and literally.

But I just know other things are going to face me during the week--

And I still don't think that this is what retirement actually is.

It just can't be.

And then we have the weekend ...

I won't get into that now, but just let's say that I will have plenty to tell you about it later in the week, particularly about Sunday.

And you can take me to the mat on that.

 1, 2, 3 ... .

Rant #3,737: Lucky Number

We have reached 3,737 posts, and while I have no idea if that number is significant in any way, 3-7-3-7 is a nice number.

I looked the number up, and an artificial intelligence description came up:

"Angel number 3737 signifies that you are on the right path, and your creative energy is being utilized effectively.

It suggests that you are attracting your desires, particularly in partnerships and romance, and that you should pay attention to your thoughts. 

This number also indicates that good luck is coming your way and that you should embrace your independence and self-love."

Well, I sure hope thst good luck is coming my way.

I sure have had plenty enough of bad luck, so maybe my time is coming--

And I want that good luck to transfer over to my son, who has had plenty of bad luck as he searches for a job.

The Department of Labor in Suffolk County called us yesterday morning--while i was participating in a meeting for work--and yet someone else was trying to clear things up.

Seems to me to be a waste of time and resources to have yet another person hear my story, but I told this guy everything, and he said he would take care if it.

About an hour later, the person I spoke to the other day called me back, and you know what? The fellow had no clue why he was told to call me!

So once again, I had to reiterate that he said my son needed a different type of assessment than the one he is getting, and that he told me he would set up a meeting for next week, but never did.

He said to me, "Oh ... I have to run a seminar now ... just send me via email the days you are free, and I will get to it."

I did just that, and at this writing, I am still waiting to hear from him.

Like I said in a previous Rant, I am giving this fellow enough rope to hang himself, and then i will have plenty to say.

Incompetence, anyone?

And did I also mention that I was given the incorrect Microsoft Teams address by my work for the meeting I was participating in?

It forced me to check on about 10 or 15 minutes late, but what's a poor boy to do?

Yes, if 3-7-3-7 portends luck, I certainly am in need of something P-O-S-I-T-I-V-E, because seemingly everything I do that is C-O-R-R-E-C-T comes out W-R-O-N-G.

And no, I have not looked up what 3-7-3-8 means.

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

3-7-3-7 ...

3-7-3-8 ...

- 30 -

Rant #3,736: "Super Bad"

Boy, that title could be attached to what is happening in New York City with its mayoral shenanigans, or it could collectively describe what my son has gone through to get another job.

But today, on a much lighter note, "Super Bad" is actually the title of a 1973 compilation of then-current soul songs that was released on K-Tel Records and pushed through endless TV commercials 

Remember K-Tel Records?

Their albums, generally from the early 1970s through the early to mid-1980s, were compendiums of current hits of the day, and they sold millions of millions of copies during their heyday in the early to mid-1970s, or during my high school years.

On these albums, you might get Elton John and Bachman-Turner Overdrive, but you would also get the Sylvers, Reunion and a myriad of one-hit and two-hit wonders like Paper Lace and Blue Swede.

Not only that, but the albums were chock full of songs--20 to 24 songs per release--so to fit all those songs on each side, you would often get abbreviated tunes, much less time than the actual single or album cut actually featured.

You would often get real hitmakers--like James Brown and Joe Tex--mixed in with no-hit, at least in the U S., artists like Blue Mink and Cliff Richard.

I found out some time ago that, for instance, for K-Tel to get the likes of Elton John on one of their compilation LPs, they had to agree to take some lesser artists, like Cliff Richard, and these records were often the place where an artist like Richard--who was huge in Europe and throughout the rest of the world--were first heard by American listeners.

K-Tel was also involved in non-recording projects, such as Ronco, the home of Ron Popeil and his numerous kitchen gadgets and even more numerous commercials toting these products, like "Pocket Fisherman" and the like.

K-Tel was actually a Canadian company, and through various bankruptcies and other legal proceedings, I don't believe they exist anymore, at least as "K-Tel."

I guess I was looking for something different to digitize last week, which was a somewhat slow week for me due to Independence Day coming on a Friday this year, and I happened upon these LPs, of which I have seven, plus one or two others somehow linked up with the K-Tel name but not actually K-Tel records proper.

And yes, one of them was the aforementioned "Super Bad," an LP that features full and truncated versions of songs by everyone from Isaac Hayes to Freda Payne to Millie Jackson.

And "Super Bad" it is.

I don't know where I got this record, but the first side is pretty beat up but listenable--

But the second side is beat up and unlistenable, with more scratches than someone with poison ivy.

Happily, I have all the songs elsewhere from the second side, so I just copied them and moved them to the "Super Bad" file folder, ready for me to listen to them in the car.

I have digitized a couple of these other K-Tel LPs that I have in my collection--with titles including "20 Power Hits " and "Out of Sight"--and some of the albums play well, while others are--

"Super Bad."

But they are all a lot of fun, and 50 years after the fact, they are nice to rediscover again.

And I will bet that if you are around my age, and collected records during the 1970s, you, yourself, probably have at least one K-Tel album in your collection.

They are fun records featuring fun music from a different time and place ...

And it is nice going into the "Wayback Machine" every once in a while to redisover these albums and the music that they feature.

"The Night Chicago Died" anybody?

Rant #3,735: Nowhere Else To Go

My son had the next part of his assessment yesterday, so we will see how that goes.

The rest of the day ... well, just let's say that I could have lived without.

I am not going to tell you everything, but I will let you in on some of it.

Here goes ...

When we went to that job fair at Farmingdale College a few weeks ago, we met up with more double talkers than a professional tongue twister could ever possibly muster.

One was from an popular pharmacy chain, a company we have applied to several times in the past.

We went up to them, told them that we have applied to them online, and gave in my son's resume to them in person at previous job fairs, but nothing has transpired.

They said that they might have an opening my son could fill in one of their stores in central Nassau County, and they wouid get back to me on it.

I will give them credit, they did get back to us via a phone call more than a week later, but for a store that is so far away from us--a different store than they mentioned at the job fair--that it simply wouldn't pay, especially for a part-time position.

I asked the caller about the other position that was mentioned to us, at the closer store, and she said that she would have to see about it.

Well, the store manager of the closer store finally called back yesterday, and when he heard where we lived, he hemmed and hawed, finally telling me that even though it was closer than the other store, he needed somebody local.

I asked him if he knew any store directors of outlets that were closer, and he said thst he didn't know these people out of his territory, and continued to hem and haw until I finally said--

"Fuggedaboudit" and hung up the phone.

I was so angry at this point that I called another group that we met at the job fair, for the third time, the New York State Department of Labor, Suffolk County.

They gave us two people to call, both of whom I had contacted in the past and who I told them that would never call us--

And they never did.

So I called up again, and surprise, surprise, I got the supervisor on the phone, related again to her that these people were totally useless--one we had actually called as far back as January, and he never called back--and she apologized to me up and down, and told me that she would see to it that one of the gentlemen would call us back. 

I asked that they call back tomorrow, meaning today, because I already had one foot out the door for yesterday's assessment and had little time to talk.

So, of course, one of the gentlemen called about a minute before we were about to leave, and he decided the assessment was useless, stating that my son would need a different assessment before he should be placed anywhere to work--even though he has worked at various positions for about 15 years!

This guy said he wanted to meet with my son, and he said he would call me back later in the day to arrange a day and time next week ...

And I am still waiting for that call.

Let's see what transpired at yesterday's assessment.

We always seem to take one step forward and then take two steps back, and honestly, if we keep taking two steps back, we will soon have our backs against the walk, and there will be no other place to go.

Rant #3,734: Let's Get It On

Today is a big day for my son.

In the middle of the afternoon, he meets face-to-face, live and in-person with a counselor for the latest part of his long-awaited assessment.

This assessment is critical, because it will help determine what direction we will go to related to his future enlmployment, as well as some other areas of his quality of life.

I pushed for this assessment for months, but, for whatever reason, no organization that is set up and designed to do these things wanted to take him on.

In fact, the organization that finally decided to do this apologized for taking their time in getting this ball rolling!

Go figure ... I certainly can't.

He had the first part of the assessment a couple of days ago, a Zoom meeting that I thought went well.

I was there for that one, but this time, I cannot be there.

It is taking place at the local library, and it takes about two hours, during which time I am going to make myself scarce.

I can be in the library, but not part of the meeting, so I will most probably stay there, and maybe i will bring my laptop computer with me so I can do some work while this thing goes on.

I know that the counselor is going to ask my son a lot of questions in order to determine his aptitude to do certain tasks related to working and to his overall quality of life.

When we spoke to the counselor via Zoom, the organization that set this meeting up did so without providing the counselor with my son's resume, which hindered the counselor in knowing much about my son and his work background.

When I found this out, I immediately sent the resume over to the counselor, who now has it, and can work from it if necessary.

Look, my son and I have done everything during the past six months to get him further employed.

We have visited every store and supermarket to try to find him work, and we have been rebuffed, with most of them telling us to apply online, which we have done, to absolutely no avail.

We have spoken to many organizations whose express purpose is to help people like my son, and they generally haven't.

We have been to job fairs, both real and virtual, and quite frankly, we have found that people talk the talk, but they don't walk the walk, if you know what I mean.

We have looked at volunteer organizations, but quite frankly, my son has been there, done that early in his career, and now is the time to get a paying job for his efforts--and one very prominent one even turned him down because they didn't believe he could pass their volunteer test.

We have even contacted Jewish organizations, and that has, I'm sorry to say, yielded absolutely nothing.

Heck, I am going to my high school reunion not to reminisce, but to try to connect with people I didn't even know from 50 years ago with the hope that maybe one of them can help my son in his job quest.

The Class of 1975 maybe helping a member of the Class of 2014!

And while well-meaning people suggest a variety of different ideas, when i tell them we have already explored these avenues, they get upset, without understanding the situation at hand.

This is not a situation where my son is simply looking for a job.

He is a special needs person, and we have found that since the minimum wage was raised earlier this year, companies are simply not hiring these workers.

Thst is why the job that he has cut his hours by 75 percent due to this increase--no matter what they say--which has put my son in this unenviable situation.

The odds are against him. There are so many people in his situation that are out of work and don't even bother looking anymore.

And there are others, my son included, who have had their hours cut by a substantial amount since the beginning of the year.

Even his counselor from the organization which finally got him this assessment--someone whose very job is to help and assist people like my son to reach their full potential--told me over the phone that my son "will never work full time" after I questioned her about the snail's pace that it was taking to find another organization to do the assessment--

This is even though, at one point a few years back, my son worked two jobs at once and was working hours that amounted to "full time."

So yes, the odds are against him, but you know what?

I have every belief that he is going to make the doubters eat their words, and he is going to succeed, as he always has, beyond the expectations of the so-called experts, who don't know very much of anything.

The first step is this assessment, so yes, today is a big day for my son--

And I know he is going to do well.

Rant #3,733: Nothing From Nothing (?)

OK, so now we have the so-called "Big Beautiful Bill" to deal with.

The bill will impact numerous facets of our lives, but I am going to focus on just one of these facets.

I am not entirely sure what the BBB means as far as taxation of Social Security is concerned.

I think it means that SS will still be taxed, but based on your income, you can take it off as a tax writeoff when you do your taxes, both individuals and married couples.

It only lasts for two years, so I guess many of us will get a break for those years, and then it reverts back to the old way again.

Anybody have a better focus on this than I do?

President Trump originally promised that he would remove the taxes on Social Security entirely, but that isn't happening here.

It also doesn't impact high-wage earners, because they are making too much money per year while on SS to qualify.

It doesn't impact lower-wage earners, because they don't pay any taxes on this money to begin with.

And some say it will hasten when SS money will dry up by about a year.

After reading numerous articles on this change, I am still confused at how it impacts myself and my family.

I dont believe that my son, who gets SS disability, is impacted by this at all--

I just hope his Medicaid is not impacted, as the BBB includes changes to Medicaid.

Happily, he is under a Medicare plan for his health care, so he is covered, at least health wise.

But he is eligible for certain other benefits from Medicaid, so he might not be as out of the woods as I hope he is.

I guess we will see the impact of the BBB in the coming days, weeks and months.

I just, personally, find this all very confusing, and I don't believe that I am alone in being wary of the BBB.

It seems to be a lot of political gobbledegook, very un-understandable and wordy, but I can only hope that it lives up to its name.

I want this bill to be an "AAA" all around, but "BBB" might not be good enough.

For once, I hope I am wrong.

Rant #3,732: Independence

It is finally July 4th, and happy 249th birthday to the great United States of America on this wonderful, celebratory day.

As we swim, barbecue, vacation, or go to or watch baseball at the stadium or on TV, let's all remember that we are doing all of this in the greatest country in the world.

This is no fringe anniversary celebration; this is a day all Americans can savor, not just some of us.

Americans gave their lives for us to be able to have this great celebration, and we cannot forget that.

And for those people who hate this country ...

Well, you are just jealous of what we have accomplished, which is proven by the fact that these people hate us, but they still come here in droves.

Why is that?

Because we are truly part of the most free, most inclusive country on the face of the planet, and while these infidels won't admit it, they enjoy the freedom they have here, in particular compared to where many of these carpetbaggers come from.

My family and I are going to have a barbecue for just the three of us.

First, we have to do our weekly shopping, but by the afternoon, the grill will begin to heat up and be primed for cooking.

I just love to barbecue--

And bring on the hot dogs and hamburgers, because i do plan on eating plenty.

For some reason, I usually eat more when I barbecue, and I am sure I will do the same today.

Today should be a great day, as we lead up to next year, when we are going to celebrate our country's 250th birthday.

I cant even remember what I did 50 years ago during our 200th birthday, but I am almost sure that my family and I had a barbecue that day as we always do on July 4th.

I was 19 years old, in college, but I simply cannot pinpoint what I did on that extra special July 4th.

That being said, let's not put the cart before the horse.

Let's all celebrate and party like it's July 4, 2025, to take a spin on that old Prince song--

But most importantly, let's all be safe!

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

Rant #3,731: Hanging On the Telephone

Yesterday, I received probably the strangest phone call I have ever gotten.

And I received it when I was waiting for my appointment at the doctor's office.

It was from an investigative lawyer, who was gathering information for a case he was working on.

The lawyer asked me if I went to a specific school in the 1960s, and I said I did.

It was one of my grammar schools that I attended all those years ago.

He asked me if one of my teachers was so and so (i won't reveal the teacher's name) who I had in fifth grade, I believe. She left after half a year to retire, and her job was taken over by another teacher.

He knew all of this stuff because he did the research, and found that I was, in fact, in that class.

He asked me how I got to school each day, and I said that I had walked there, as everyone from inside my community did.

I told him kids from the outside were bussed in, and that is evidently what the problem he was investigating centered on.

Evidently, back in 1968 or 1969, there was some type of abuse of a child on a school bus going to this particular school, and somehow, it is tied into this teacher, I can't figure out how and he did not tell me much about that.

Or perhaps this teacher was not involved in any way, but he thought I might know something about the incident, since he found out that I went to the school at this time.

But he harped on the teacher, asking me if I remembered anything about her.

I know that she retired mid-year, and that is why we were assigned the next teacher.

I seem to remember that she was of Jamaican descent--in the Caribbean--and that I guess she might have been in her mid 50s to early 60s when she left.

This is all legit. I looked up the firm, and they are well-known for handling abuse cases.

I looked up the lawyer, and he is also legit.

I do wonder why they contacted me like they did, through a phone call rather than a certified letter, but maybe that is how they do things like this nowadays.

Yes, a very strange phone call indeed.

It piqued my interest, but you know what?

I really don't care to hear about this ever again.

I wished the attorney well, but that is that.

I know that for certain cases of abuse, there is no statute of limitations, so I suspect that the person claiming abuse is still alive.

Nearly 60 years ago, and now, there is some type of legal action being launched?

I won't even pretend to know how the human mind works ... but 60 years is a very, very long time.

And even though I have a very good memory, that is eons ago, and even to remember the teacher's name was a great stretch.

Well, that was something, wasn't it?

I mean, if he asked me other questions about 60 years ago--who my favorite baseball player was, what my favorite ice cream was, things like that, I could definitely answer, but the questions he asked me--

FUGGEDABOUDIT!

Rant #3,730: STOP

I put this up on Facebook yesterday morning.

It bears worth repeating, because I do not believe that people--and especially my fellow Jews--are getting the message about what is happening in New York City.

Please read this, and if you have already read this, show it to others, both Jew and non-Jew alike.

There is something dastardly going on in New York City, and IT MUST STOP NOW.

It obviously has spread to the suburbs, and IT MUST STOP NOW.

And what's worse, many Jews are buying into this--in particular, younger people of the Jewish faith--and IT MUST STOP NOW.

"If you can get a hold of Long Island's Newsday newspaper today, get it for the Letters section.

It was filled with praise for that garbage running for New York City mayor, with barely a mention of his blatant anti-Semitism.

He was praised for his "progressive" values, for his social media tactics and his youthful exuberance, but only one letter writer even delicately touched on his well-known disdain for Jews and Israel.

I guess the letter writers are choosing to miss a very important issue here.

To my Jewish friends and others, you simply cannot have a mayor of the most important city in the world, with the largest Jewish population outside of Israel itself, who backs Hamas terrorists, is anti-Israel, and has a proven past of blatant anti-Semitism.

It simply is unfathomable that this garbage has even gotten this far, but when people choose to turn their heads the other way, this is what happens.

And that includes many Jews themselves ... I have said time and time and time again that if Hitler ran on the Democratic ticket, Jews, and others, would vote him in because they vote the party, not the person.

And that is proven by the rise of this garbage.

Further, any union that supports this candidate is simply showing, and doing it very proudly, its own anti-Semitism.

I know it is very "chic" and "fashionable" to be anti-Semitic today.

However, we all know that if this garbage showed the same obvious disdain for specific ethnic groups, he would have been tossed out on his rear end a long time ago.

Why isn't this happening now?

It is pretty obvious, isn't it?"

Rant #3,729: Hot, Hot, Hot

July 4th is coming up, and what would the holiday be without fireworks?

Fireworks have been part of the festivities for as long as i can remember, and lots of people really get into the pops and explosions in the sky.

I am not one of those people.

I never got into fireworks, even as a kid, and as an adult, I can really and truly live without them.

Growing up in Rochdale Village, South Jamica, Queens in the mid-1960s and early 1970s, fireworks were all over the place--

Illegally, of course, but we all knew who to get those M80s and ashcans from if we wanted them, and I guess i simply didn't want them.

I wasn't even into sparklers and punks, the milder forms of fireworks.

I just never got what all the fuss was about.

But what is the holiday without fireworks?

I guess it wouldn't be the same.

The problem is that a lot of people don't leave it to the experts when it comes to fireworks, and each and every year, you hear about people suffering horrible injuries from their mishandling of firecrackers.

But again, what would July 4th be without all of this noise?

And what would July 4th be without barbecues?

Well, my family and I didn't have any July 4th barbecues during the past few years due to a variety of unfortunate circumstances 

But this year--in a new apartment with a terrace--my son, my wife and I are going to have a small barbecue.

Hot dogs and hamburgers, chicken for my wife, and whatever else we decide to cook will be on our electric grill, and I know it is going to be great!

I just love to barbecue, and now that I have used the electric grill three or four times, I am getting into the groove, learning more about barbecuing on an electric grill each and every time.

So I will be grilling on Independence Day, our nation's 249th birthday.

I can live without fireworks, but there is nothing like a great hot dog off the grill on the holiday.

I can't wait!

Rant #3,728: Old Days

Continuing the high school reunion story that I told you about on Friday ...

When I put up on the Class of 1975 Facebook site that I was going to the event, I got a couple of likes, from people whose names I absolutely don't recognize at all.

But I did get a Facebook message from another person whose name I also did not recognize at all, and what he said took me for a loop.

He said that he remembered that I told him that my father was a New York City medallion cab driver!

I still did not recognize the guy's name, but his memory literally propelled me to try to find my yearbook online.

I went to several sites--all trying to entice me to buy my long-lost yearbook for anywhere from about $50 to $100--but I finally found one that I could at least access page by page, on the Classmates site.

So for the first time in many years, I went through the yearbook page by page, and I remembered how this yearbook infuriated me to no end when it came out, as I was barely mentioned in its pages, as if I didn't exist.

I remember questioning the editor of the book--I think he was in my Social Studies class--about my conspicuous absence from the yearbook--other than my mandatory head shot in the graduates section--and i remember he told me that they used mainly photos of his and his yearbook group's friends in the book, and that is why other than that photo, I had been pretty much left out.

I was even left out of the Senior Variety Show section, an event that I stole. He admitted that I should have definitely been included in that section, but ...

That one photo I had in the graduates' section pretty much said it all.

I remember that the photo was taken during a very windy summer day leading up to my senior year, my hair--yes, I had plenty of hair then--was a complete mess, and, well, looking back, it pretty much demonstrated how I felt about my high school "experience."

Anyway, I found the picture of the fellow who remembered that my dad was a cab driver, and it rung kind of a very muted bell, as I kind of remember him, but I simply don't remember having any dealings with him--

But I must have, because he remembered that my father was a cabbie!

I continued to look through the book, and I did see that there was a picture of the debating team, and yes, I am in the photo. In the back row, and the photo is very dark and you can barely see me.

There is plenty else wrong with the yearbook--there is an embarrassing placement of a photo of a girl who died during senior year in a car accident ... preceded by just a single page of the other senior class member who was directly involved in the accident that killed her--and suffice it to say that I won't be spending $100 to obtain a copy of this tome.

Again, I am not going to this reunion for myself; I am going with the hope that by going outside the box, I can help my son find a job.

I know that that is a job in itself, but if it takes returning to an era of my life that I completely despise, I will do it.

Heck, after an hour or two or three it will be over, and I can return to the life that I am most proud of, and that is today, right now, in 2025.

High school ...

Just four years of my 68 years of life.

Those high school years ...

Best forgotten.

Rant #3,727: Doing What Needs To Be Done

Going completely against what many people have said to me, i have decided to go to my high school reunion.

But I am going with a purpose.

Honestly, I reviewed the list of those who have already sent in their money for this event, and believe me, I wasn't floored.

Of the 70 or more people on this list, I would say that not a single one can I place by face after reading their names.

Nothing comes up in my memory, and I have a very good memory.

A couple of the names sound familiar, but without a yearbook--I think my ex-wife gobbled it up when she ransacked my house and left me all those years ago--I can't look anyone up.

So familiarity--and the need to meet up with people I haven't seen in 50 years and probably had absolutely no discourse with when we were all in Massapequa High School at the same time--does not exist.

The reason that I believe that this Class of 1975 graduate is going has to do with a Class of 2014 graduate that I know pretty well--

My son.

Yes he graduated the same high school as i did, but what he faced was way worse than what I faced, no matter how bad what i faced was.

Being a special needs kid from kindergarten all the way through 12th grade, he and others like him are looked at and handled differently, and even though a lot of times they are integrated in the overall student community, their experience is measurably different than almost all of their classmates.

And when he graduated high school, things got worse, in particular in the employment area.

And right now, he is having a really tough time finding a job, and it is because of his disability.

We have tried everything, groups that exist to help people like him don't, and I believe it is time to think outside the box.

I figure if I can go to this reunion, even if I get maybe even one or two people who can help a fellow alum, it will all be worth going to.

Maybe someone owns a business, has a child that owns a business, or knows someone who can point my son in the right direction.

Why not take a chance?

Look, as you well know, I know all about reunions, helping to carry out the 2014 Rochdale Village Reunion.

We had twice as many people as this one is having, and we worked around many obstacles to make it an overwhelming success.

If one of the attendees would have come up to me with a child in a similar situation, I would have had absolutely no problem with thst attendee passing around a few resumes--

And that is exactly what I plan to do at this reunion.

I have absolutely no memories to relive with these people--i already had my "Janis Joplin" moment late in my senior year--a situation where little old me stole our Senior Variety Show right from under others' feet--I am not there to see them; rather, to see what they can do for my son, and this way, my son and I can leave no stone unturned in our quest.

The money has to be in soon, so I plan on writing a check ASAP.

Look, if nothing works out, I can, once again, be the first one there and the first to leave.

But I do believe it is worth a shot.

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

P.S. Janis Joplin was a very unpopular girl at her Texas high school, actually being voted "The Ugliest Boy in Class."

Years later, about the time when she reached stardom, like her other classmates, she was invited to her high school reunion.

The reunion organizers were flabbergasted that she said she would be there, as she had become a star by that time in 1969 or so.

She did go to the reunion, but continued to be treated poorly by her now very jealous former classmates.

They still looked at her as the "frump" that they had decided she was all these years earlier, and she left the reunion seeing just how phony--and jealous--people were of her.

Whether any of this actually happened has morphed into an old wives' tale, but I do believe something did happen in one way or another.

My "Janis Joplin" moment was much more subtle.

At my class' Senior Variety Show, I outdid everyone that Friday night, breaking the then Guiness Book of World Records eating record of downing 23 donuts in 10 minutes.

My brief notoriety suddenly made me everyone's best friend, and on the following Monday, this guy that no one cared about for nearly four years became a school celebrity.

I signed lots of autographs, people who had never, ever spoken to me became my best buddies, and it gave me occasion to see just how phony the whole thing was.

After a short while, maybe by that Monday afternoon, I realized all the phoniness, and I just had to laugh it off.

My momentary notoriety basically served me perfectly, as it "gave the finger" to the school and how I was treated there for the entirety of my time in high school.

And, the fact of the matter was that someone in England actually topped my record the next day or so, so I never actually got into the record books. 

But I had my "Janis Joplin" moment, and no one could ever take that moment away from me.

In fact, it is the only good moment that I had in my four years of high school.

So take that!

"I got the Mercedes Benz ... ."