Rant #3,604: Auld Lang Syne

Here we are ... the last day of 2024, dovetailing-- 

Into the first day of 2025.

My family and I have had a really tough five years, and I truly hope that 2025 ends that malaise and helps us begin anew ...

That being said, being realistic, I kind of figure that while 2025 won't be the worst year, it will probably be another trying 365 days.

I just can't see it any other way ... although I can certainly hope for the best.

I do consider myself a lucky person.

I have a loving family, and even though there have been many bumps in the road, I seemingly have my health.

It has been pretty dodgy over the psst two years, in particular, but I have my health.

Due to hard work, my left leg--although it will never be what it once was--is as good as it is going to get.

My scalp is cancer free, as is my prostate, although I continue to suffer some of the after effects of that procedure I went through a few weeks ago.

The doctor told me that what I am going through is 100-percent normal, medically, although it may not appear to be normal to me.

I just have to give it time to heal, and i have to get that into my head.

I am employed, maybe barely and not the way i thought I would be at this point in my life, but it is a job, and one that I am not giving up anytime soon.

My immediate family is doing well, and I expect that to continue.

So with 2024 just about over and done with, I am looking forward to 2025, and I hope everything works out fine for myself, my wife, my son ...

And my daughter, someone I haven't seen in more than six months and someone who I haven't spoken to at all, either.

I hope that that relationship improves in 2025, but why I haven't spoken to or seen her in all of thst time is bewildering, and the ball is firmly in her court to explain to me why she treats me like a complete and total stranger ... and really has done so for years.

So if that can be worked out, maybe 2025 won't be such a bad year after all--

But I am not holding my breath, because if I did, I would suffocate myself, and if I haven't done so yet, I am certainly not going to expect anything in 2025.

So everyone, have a great new year, and I will speak to you again on January 1, 2025--

The first day of the new year.

Rant #3,603: Better Man

Well, we are down to what amounts to the final hours and minutes of 2024.

As I have said before, 2024 was not a great year for myself and my family, but it was an improvement over 2023, the absolute worst year of my life.

Therefore, I have to believe that 2025 might not be a spectacular year, but it will be an improvement over 2024 and certainly over 2023.

I have to, at least, think that way.

And as I am writing this, I have to say goodbye to Jimmy Carter, who passed away yesterday at age 100.

I did not like him as a president--I thought he was probably one of the weakest presidents we ever had--but I respected him more as a man.

He lived with brain cancer for how long? But he kept on going, as if to say that this thing wouldn't take him out; rather, he would go out on his own terms.

And I think he did just that.

He could have faded away after his one term as our commander in chief, but he and his wife, Rosalynn, sermed to never be too far away from the news as our elder former president and first lady.

Among their many activities, he and his wife helped build numerous homes for people who needed them, and he actually helped construct these homes, using hammer and nails and getting down in the dirt like others who did this.

He and his family were open to parody--a peanut farmer becoming president, with a seemingly country bumpkin family--but he seemed to take it all in stride, almost expecting his family--including his brother and mother--to gets lots of barbs, as if it was to be expected as part of his job.

And he loved his wife to pieces, and she loved him right back.

There was no question about how strong their marriage was, even after he admitted to Playboy Magazine that he, "lusted after women."

All guys turn their eyes toward pretty women, whether they admit to doing so or not, but that is as far as it usually goes.

What you keep in your head is fine, and he was being honest about it--

But he seemingly had a great marriage; it showed that even after being a married man for decades, he was far from being dead ... and I bet that made his marriage even stronger.

As our president, he had many failings, including how he handled our own hostage crisis in Iran, where numerous Americans were held hostage for 444 days.

He also ordered the failed military rescue, which led not to victory, but to utter defeat, and death.

Again, I never voted for him, but he seemed to be a genuinely good person--

A real mensch, in my estimation, unlike other, subsequent commanders in chief, who have had plenty of baggage to unload before, during and after their runs at the top.

So as 2024 runs out, I salute President Jimmy Carter, who I did not think was a good president, but more importantly, someone who I thought was a good man.

And he might be the last president in my lifetime that I can say that about.

Rant #3,602: Land of Confusion

How was your day after the first days of both Chanukah and Christmas?

My highlight--or lowlight, because it shouldn't be to begin with--was thst I outted a true, vile anti-Semite on Facebook--he admitted it himself--but unfortunately, in doing so, a post for "Happy Chanukah" had to be removed after I outted this guy for what he is.

The original post was taken down--as was the anti-Semite's posts as well.as mine--but it appears thst it again has been put up again, and yes, infiltrated by this vulgarity, by another respondent ... 

And yes, I have, once again,  called it out.

When I see clearly anti-Semitic and vulgar posts being put on display, I just cannot let it go.

And by the way, the poster was ...

WCBS TV in New York, which runs the network's Evening News each night, a show which almost nightly features anti-Israel propaganda reports during its half hour show.

Hmmmmm ... ?

Now, more than ever, Jews must do what is necessary to fight this nonsense, and Facebook happens to be one of the primary delivery providers of hate speech like this, so I just can't skip over it.

But that being said, this year, there were more positive Chanukah-related posts on Facebook than I have ever seen before.

And that is a good thing, demonstrating that Facebook can be both the devil, or the angel, depending on the situation.

And have you yet decided whether my novel.is worth pursuing or not?

Here is the latest chapter.

But before you read it, let me say what I always say on Friday, and it never gets old:

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

13

With his mother’s help and through some of her high school connections, Abraham Lincoln Panim became a freshman at the local college, but he was enrolled in night school, which was his own choice. He simply felt better taking courses during the evening, and he thought that he could handle this new challenge better during the evening than during the day, and his mother agreed.

The new freshman enrolled in liberal arts, and he was sent off to college by both his mother and Mrs. Panim in the early fall.

“I am so proud of you,” Mrs. Panim said upon his first day as a college student. “You look just great, and you are going to get in fine with the other students.”

“They will be so impressed at how smart you are, and I am sure you will make friends right away,” said Mrs., Stottle.

“I hope so … I am kind of nervous,” Abraham Lincoln Stottle said to the two ladies, as he headed out the door with his mother, who drove her son to college on this first day.

The two got into the car and sped off.

“Mom, I am a bit nervous,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said as the car approached the school. “What do I do, what do I say … ?”

“Just be yourself, and everything will work out fine,” replied Mrs. Panim, who tried not to show it, but she was as nervous, or even more nervous, than her son was.

They pulled up to the school, and Mrs., Panim stopped the car.

“Son, this is it,” Mrs. Panim said.

“Mom, I am so nervous.”

“Try not to be. Be yourself. Be ‘ABRAHAM LINCOLN PANIM,’ and everything will be fine.”

The boy kissed his mother and exited the car. He had a scarf around his neck, which he lifted over his face, both to protect himself from the cooler autumn air whisking around the campus and to cover up his face.

As he approached the building, he stood on a long line of people waiting to get in. He stood on the line, behind a female student.

The female student, long blond hair all bundled up in a heavy coat, turned to him, and she was wearing dark glasses, and he saw her with a guide dog. He figured that she was blind. “Man, it is cold out here. I wish they would open up the door already. I am frozen.”

“Yes, it is a bit cold out here,” Abraham Lincoln Panim replied, talking through the scarf that was covering his face, all but his eyes.

“Boy, you must be really cold,” the girl said, reaching out and feeling his scarf over most of his face. “I wish I had a scarf like that.”

“Well, I … well … I kind of like the scarf around my face.”

“It kind of muffles your voice, I can barely hear you—but look, the line is finally moving!”

The line moved, and the students went to their classes.

“See you sometime,” the girl said.

“See you around,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said, as he looked for room 222, the room he needed to get to for his first class.

Finding the room, he walked in, sat down in the back corner of the class room, but did not take off his coat, nor did he remove his scarf from his face.

The teacher finally came into the class, a tall, thin man with practically no hair on his head.

“Hello, I am Mr. Figg, and I am going to be teaching you English … sir, are you staying for tea or are you about to leave?”

All eyes turned to Abraham Lincoln Panim, still all bundled up with his jacket on and his scarf being made even tighter as he realized the teacher was speaking about him.

Abraham Lincoln Panim stood up, took his jacket off, put it on the back of his chair, but kept his scarf on.

“Sorry, I have a cold and don’t want to pass it on to anyone else,” he told the class, as sweat poured down from seemingly everywhere on his body.

The teacher was not paying attention at this point, and the class began, with Abraham Lincoln Panim continuing to wear his scarf through this class and into the other classes he took that evening and during that first week of college.

Rant #3,601: It's Gonna Get Better

How was your Christmas?

How was you Chanukah?

My family and I went to my brother in law's house on Christmas Eve, and we had a nice time.

On Christmas Day, we didn't do much of anything, although leading into the first night of Chanukah, we did what all good Jewish families do on Christmas Day--we had Chinese food.

And we exchanged our gifts, of course.

During the day, i watched the Knicks game--a real tradition on Christmas Day, and an exciting game that they narrowly won--and I pretty much chilled out during most of the day--

Although I did end up doing some work in the morning.

With all the hubbub of the holidays, I completely missed a story that I had to write, something I rarely do.

But I discovered it on Christmas morning, so I guess you can say I gifted my employer with some work to do.

Why not? My holiday began after sunset, so I was cool with it.

And that was pretty much that.

Now, we see 2024 dwindle down to a few days leading up to January 1, New Year's Day, and we welcome 2025.

I am hoping for a good year, a happy and healthy year, but I have to get through one more hurdle to start the new year on a good note.

I continue to have some lingering physical problems after that prostate procedure I had a few weeks ago, and on Friday, I have an appointment with the urologist to discuss with him my problems.

Hopefully, I can emerge with a better perspective--and more optimism--on what I am going through.

So I hope your holidays were good ones, and as an aside, happy birthday to my sister today.

She, like all of us, needs 2025 to be a great year, so let's all hope that that goal is reached--

And it all starts in the waning days of 2024.

Rant #3,600: Dreidel

Well, tomorrow is the momentous day we have been looking forward to ...

But if you Jewish, you have to wait for sunset to join in the fun.

Yes, tomorrow is Christmas Day, and tomorrow is also the first night of Chanukah, a holiday which begins at sunset.

Sure, the holidays have been totally commercialized, and yes, the true meaning of both holidays has been pretty much lost, but as the old Christmas song tells us, "It's the most wonderful time of the year."

And talking about holiday music, i thought i would do what nobody else does, and you have it exclusively here.

There are so many top Christmas songs lists, and they all feature some great--and not so great--tunes of the season.

So right here, in the 3,600th entry of The Ranting and Raving Blog, I thought I would present a list of my personal 16 favorite Chanukah songs.

Some of them you will know, others you won't, and to be honest with you, most of these tunes have absolutely nothing to do with Chanukah, but I included them as representations of what I thought were good, Jewish-related songs in the pop vein.

So here they are, in no particular order, although since I call my collection "Chanukah Rocks," the first song on the list has to be just that.

Gefilte Joe and the Fish - Hanukkah Rocks

Seth Kurland - Famous Jews

Adam Sandler - The Chanukah Song

Brenner and Blitzer - The Problem

Barenaked Ladies - Hanukkah Blessings

Barenaked Ladies - Hanukkah, Oh Hanukkah

Don McLean - Dreidel

Gefilte Joe and the Fish - Walk On the Kosher Side

Allan Sherman - Sir Greenbaum's Madrigal

Eric Schwartz - Hannukkah Hey Ya

Connie Francis - Havah Negilah (Dance, Everyone, Dance!)

Rabbi Joe Black - Yodel Dreidel

Tom Lehrer - Chanukah in Santa Monica

What I Like About Jew - (It's Good to Be) A Jew at Christmas

Wild Man Fischer and Dr. Demento - I'm a Christmas Tree

Peter, Paul and Mary - Light One Candle

And yes, as you can see, I included the Adam Sandler and Seth Kurland songs that I spoke about yesterday, so even though really neither has to do with Chanukah per se--even though one is called "The Chanukah Song"--one begat the other, so I have to include them both.

The Brenner and Blitzer tune addresses "the problem" that the holidays present to some people, while The Barenaked Ladies' tunes almost came out of the blue a few years ago, and they are actually quite good.

Don McLean's "Dreidel" is no "American Pie," but the story goes that back in the early 1970s, the singer-songwriter was spending a lot of time in Israel, as he was dating an isrseli woman, and this song is about that relationship.

We have another fun song by Gefilte Jie and the Fish, a takeoff of fellow Jew Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side," and then comes another parody by the all-time musical parodist Allan Sherman, who happened to be Jewish, too.

I take it that Eric Schwartz is a fellow lonsman, and his song does feature the holiday in its title, and then we have the very Italian Connie Francis singing perhaps the most famous Jewish song in the United States.

You have to have a rabbi to make this all kosher, so we have Rabbi Joe Black to make this list official.

And then, who but Tom Lehrer could find a word that rhymes with Chanukah and build a great song around it?

The next two songs are not among the greatest tunes ever written, but heck, What I Like About Jew and Wild Man Fischer (with Dr. Demento) give it a go.

Finally, Peter, Paul and Mary deliver one of their truly best songs, showing how light can illuminate whatever path we decide to walk on.

So there it is.

All these tunes are available on YouTube, but here is the link to the Peter, Paul and Mary song, a tune which really is as good as it gets.

https://youtu.be/h1cRXgDFiSs?si=OX3oPAF9SRI75rcs

So that being said, have a wonderful Chrstmas, a fantastic Chanukah, and I will speak to you again on Thursday--

Which just happens to be the first day of Kwanzaa and my sister's birthday, and sorry, I have no song lists for either one.

Rant #3,599: Famous Jews

In Sunday's Newsday, they included a feature on Adam Sandler's " The Chanukah Song," and nary a soul had anything bad to say about it.

Well, I wish they had interviewed me for this story, because I would have been the Scrooge in this item, the real fly in the ointment.

I will give the song credit, though.

I agree with one respondent quoted in the story, who said it made being Jewish a "cool thing" to be when it was released during the holiday season in 1994 when Sandler was a cast member of "Saturday Night Live."

Jews really had no "pop" songs about their holiday--really other than "The Dreidel Song"--so it kind of put Chanukah on the map, so to speak, in particular for younger Jews.

But to me, it not only dropped the ball, but it somewhat possibly plagiarized an earlier song by another performer.

Look, the song really has absolutely nothing to do with Chanukah to begin with, so much so that it could have been simply called "Famous Jews" (more about that later).

Anyway, I always found the song kind of smarmy, with Sandler going through his list of people who you either knew were Jewish or who were partly Jewish, kind of like saying, "Well, the people are Jews, whether you knew it--or like it--or not."

And again, it has absolutely nothing to do with Chanukah really at all, so it doesn't inform anyone about the beauty or the history of the holiday.

Now, about the plagiarism, or at least the possibility of plagiarism ...

At least 10 or more years earlier, an artist by the name of Seth Kurland released a song called "Famous Jews" on the then very small Rhino Records label.

It goes down exactly the same path, name-dropping Jews as quickly as snowflakes can hit the ground, but it does not link itself to Chanukah as Sandler's song does; it pretty much says what it is in its title.

I am sure Sandler and the other writers of "The Chanukah Song" have to had heard this song, and politely adapted it for its own uses.

And who is Kurland? I looked up his name, and although I can't pinpoint if what I found is about the same guy, the information I found is that he produced and wrote for several popular sitcoms and movies during the period of his song, but again, I don't know if it is the same person.

Whatever the case, I just never liked Sandler's song, nor it's various iterations--four or five--over the years--simply because I heard Kurland's song first, and yes, it took me a while to figure out where I had heard "something like" Sandler's song.

I have the song in my collection, on a CD called "Tales From the Rhino: The Rhino Records Story," a two-CD compilation set which came out in--

1994, or the same year that Sandler came out with his song.

Hmmmmmm ... as fellow Jew Arte Johnson used to say on "Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In"--

"Verrrry interesting."

And you wonder why I doubt the authenticity of Sandler's song?

So, to sum this all up, while I like the fact that Jew and non-Jew alike know "The Chanukah Song," I doubt that many non-Jews still have any idea on what the Chanukah holiday means, why it is not "the Jewish Christmas," and why both Christmas and Chanukah are separate, and wonderful holidays, in their own right.

https://youtu.be/U-8Two_8cCo?si=T_M7XXjwQNKR-fed

Rant #3,598: Tell Me

There was an interesting post on Facebook yesterday.

It was put up rather innocently, but it caused a little bit of chatter among some of the respondents, including me.

The poster put up the photo [above] and wrote "Merry Christmas."

Very innocent indeed.

And most respondents posted the very same thing.

That was OK by me.

But a couple of the respondents didn't leave it at that.

They posted this emphatic question:

"Weren't the Stooges Jewish? Didn't they celebrate Chanukah?"

Well, this kind of went back and forth without being adequately answered, so I jumped in with my answer, which in all honesty, I could have gone on and on about, but which I decided to keep fairly short:

"Yes, all the Stooges were Jews, except for Curly Joe DeRita.

Those were different times. Although many of Hollywood's biggest stars were Jewish, Hollywood did not recognize Judaism-except in certain instances--

Made even more ridiculous by the fact that most studio heads were Jews themselves.

Look at all the Jewish references in their films ... how could anyone not know that the Stooges were Jews?

But if you could ask everyone from Jack Benny to Hedy Lamar to Jerry Lewis to Paul Newman and the Marx Brothers, they would tell you it was simply not spoken about.

Even Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor converted to Judaism when they married Jewish men, but it was not acknowledged by Hollywood."

Those were verrrry different times back then, and Judaism certainly never crept into Hollywood's handling of the holidays, and quite frankly, still doesn't.

Chanukah celebrations on mainstream TV and films are few and far between, and when there are choice times to handle the holiday--and teach people about it without hitting anyone over the head about it--it is usually flubbed.

Adam Sandler's "Hanukkah Song" is the most atrocious instance of a wasted moment, as the song has absolutely nothing to do with the holiday, but is more of a smarmy name-dropping exercise about who is Jewish and who isn't.

And then we have "The Goldbergs" TV show, which had a real chance to bring Judaism into the public consciousness, but during its years on prime time, it did nothing but denigrate Judaism, taking three seasons to even acknowledge that the family was Jewish.

And its holiday episodes always featured the narrator lamenting that he was Jewish, and he was jealous of those who celebrated Christmas--in fact, he wanted to be one of those people himself!

It was just so obvious to me what was going on on this sitcom; I even commented about it on Facebook on the show's site, and was quickly barred by the show's creator's mother--who ran the site--for having the audacity to bring up such a thing.

And when TV does tackle being Jewish in America, like it did with "Brooklyn Bridge," It simply doesn't sell to Middle America.

Even that terrific show, when it was headed for cancelation, began to focus more on the budding relationship between the Jewish boy and his Irish Catholic girlfriend, rather than being Jewish in America in the 1950s, the era the show was based in.

And that is the point: however idiotic this sounds, in particular as we head into 2025, the powers that be still think like they did in 1940--

That Judaism doesn't sell to Middle America ...

But every alternative lifestyle you can think of does.

Hooray for Hollywood!

Look, I am not interested in equal representation at this point--certainly not with about 4 percent of this country's population being Jewish--but with Chanukah still being swept under the rug in 2024, and Jewishness pretty much the same way by certain people in the entertainment industry who just happen to be as Jewish as I am, you would think during the past 80 years, there would be more of an understanding--

And an acceptance.

I could go on and on about this, but I won't. 

I think I have made my point.

Just let me end this Rant by stating that in a culture that seems to accept every permutation of humanity, why are we even having this conversation?

I know the answer--

Do you?

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

Rant #3,597: Right Place, Wrong Time (?)

It is hard to believe, but a week from yesterday, Christmas Day and the first night of Hannukah will be on exactly the same day.

I don't ever remember this happening before, but I am told that it actually has, the last time in 2005, but it has only happened four times in the last 100 years or so.

It all has to do with the Jewish calendar, which runs differently than the calendar that we generally use.

And for the first time since 2005, Hanukkah will actually take place AFTER Christmas, because the Jewish holiday begins after sunset of December 25, the first day of Christmas, and the eight-day celebration will extend past New Year's Day into early 2025.

I guess this has its positive and negative aspects.

Jew and non-Jew alike can celebrate their holidays at the same time, but on the other hand, Hanukkah will kind of get buried by all-encompassing Christmas.

And the duality of the day will continue the perpetual nonsense that Hanukkah is "the Jewish Christmas" which is so utterly nonsensical--

But it is simply amazing how many people actually believe this craziness.

And again--and I don't know how many times I have to say this--both holidays are wonderful celebrations, but one holiday has absolutely NOTHING to do with the other, other than annually coming at just about the same time of the year--

In 2025, I think Hanukkah comes about a week before Christmas does.

And there is no such thing as "Chrismukkah," that is just a media invention thst means absolutely nothing, because it simply does not exist.

And the next thing that I contemplate every year around this time is what the correct spelling of the Jewish holiday is.

For the first probably 50 years of my life, I spelled it "CHANUKAH," but since then I have spelled it "HANUKKAH."

I don't know why I switched, but I did, even though the latter spelling is pretty much angilicized.

Now, with angilicization not currently the way to go, I think it is time to go back to "CHANUKAH," because the accent on the word is on the "Ch " pronouncing it with a heavier "H" sound.

It isn't "Cha-nukah" like "chair," It is "Chanukah" like a more gutteral "hair"--

So I will go with "Hannu--" err ... "Chanukah" for now on.

So, Happy Chanukah and Merry Christmas to all!--

On the same date this year, believe it or not!

Rant #3,596: Guilty

I know that what I am going to say goes against all ethics--including my personal ones--all laws, and what we firmly believe in this country, that people accused of crimes--even heinous ones--are innocent until proven guilty.

I align with all of that, but I am starting to waiver a bit ...

I think the accused Gilgo Beach killer and the guy who allegedly shot the health insurance chairman, and shot him in the back, no less--

ARE AS GUILTY AS SIN.

Yes, they certainly deserve trials, and to be judged by their peers, due process, and every legal stipend and doctrine that we believe in in our country, and they both have the right to a fair trial.

But it seems that every day, these guys are getting more guilty, more enmeshed in their own bizarre worlds, and it simply makes it more and more obvious that they did exactly what they are accused of doing.

Now, the accused Gilgo Beach serial killer has had yet another murder put on his docket, the seventh person he is alleged to have done away with.

And the guy who supposedly offed the health insurance company chairman ... well, he has been indicted by the Manhattan district attorney, and there are about 20 other charges against him, including terrorism.

I mean, can the evidence be much more obvious in both cases?

The fellow who is said to have shot the health onsurance chairman to death actually had most of the evidence on his very person, while the supposed Gilgo Beach murderer may as well have had the evidence on his person, because whatever they have found has had his DNA--or his wife or daughter's DNA--all over it.

Evidence has been found that supposedly proves that each case was planned meticulously, which, of course, also makes it pretty obvious who committed these horrid crimes.

But we cannot assume anything--

Which is something I have to keep telling myself.

And other obvious cases have been fouled up on technicalities, so even the most guilty--or who we feel are the most guilty--sometimes can do an end-around against the crimes they have been charged with.

Time will tell, and I am not a lawyer, but to me, these guys should rot in jail for the rest of their god-forsaken lives.

But this is America, and they will each have their day in court.

And the good thing about this, at least to me, is that I do believe the outcomes of these fair trials will prove, without a shadow of a doubt, exactly what I think these individuals are accused of.

Good riddance.

And while we are all pondering what I just said, how about putting on trial the next chapter of my novel?

Please, give me an innocent or even a guilty verdict.

I will get what I deserve.

Thanks!

12

Although Alexander Lincoln Panim had earned his high school diploma, he sought more knowledge. Mrs. Stottle could only provide him just so much, and Mrs. Panim had her school to run.

Two years had passed, and Abraham Lincoln Panim was now 18 years of age.

“Abraham Lincoln Panim,” said Mrs. Stottle one day when she and the boy were studying with each other, “there is so much more for you to learn. You have a high school diploma now, and I really cannot teach you any more myself.”

“So how am I going to learn more?” asked Abraham Lincoln Panim, pretty much knowing the answer to his question.

“I will talk it over with your mother, but I believe it is time for you to venture out into the world, but do it without me or your mother leading you,” said Mrs. Stottle. “It is time you went to—“

“College?” Abraham Lincoln Panim asked, knowing that that was the answer.

“Yes, that is what I think you have to do,” Mrs. Stottle said. I mean, I simply cannot teach you what you need to know at this point, and quite frankly, I am getting a bit older now, and my eyesight and my feet are not well … maybe you should go out and meet people, make friends, go out and live your own life.”

“But how can I live my own life—“

“You can, Abraham Lincoln Panim. You might just have to take the good with the bad, and there is so much more good to higher learning than bad. I think you should try it, at least try it.

“Remember what I always say, ‘Do unto others as you would have the do unto you … treat other people the way you would like to be treated yourself.’

“But Mrs. Stottle—“

“Abraham Lincoln Panim, I do believe it is time for you to experience the outside world. Don’t equate it what happened to all those years ago when you were a little boy to now. Colleges have a much more liberal view of the world and people. I think that you will fit right in. Nobody will notice you as being odd or different—

“Because you aren’t odd, and you aren’t different.”

Later that day, when Mrs. Panim arrived home from school, Mrs. Stottle broached the subject to Abraham Lincoln Panim’s mother.

During one of their regular walks in the evening, Mrs. Panim decided to sit down on one of the benches where they usually took their walks, which was somewhat unusual, because the mother and son were used to walking and rarely stopping.

“Abraham Lincoln Panim, Mrs. Stottle brought up something to me today that I have been thinking about a lot lately myself, and that is—“

“Going to college, mom.”

“Yes, and I agree with Mrs. Stottle. It is time you get out on your own, meet people, and get a higher dose of education.”

“But mom, I don’t know, I haven’t been in school—“

“Yes, for many years, But with Mrs. Stottle’s help, you were able to learn, and you learned well. You are 18 now, you aren’t a baby anymore. I think it is high time that you tried to go to a public college.”

“But mom, I still look like a rat.”

“Nobody cares what anyone looks like when you get to college. And to me, you are very handsome, anyway.”

“Mom, come on, I look … well … different than a lot of people do.”

“But that is what colleges are for, to blend people from all different backgrounds into one. I loved college. Maybe you will too.”

“But will college love me?” asked Abraham Lincoln Panim, as the mother and son left the bench and continued their walk into the moonlight.

That talk signaled the beginning of a new chapter in Abraham Lincoln Panim’s life that was ready to unfold.

Rant #3,595: Relax

So, I had that growth removed from my scalp ...

Evidently, it was already removed when I was at the dermatologist a few weeks ago, which I wasn't told when I was called by the receptionist and she told me I had a pre-cancerous lesion, and that I had to come back to the office to have it removed.

So during yesterday's visit, I just had that painful freezing spray applied to the area, and I was done.

I don't know if I was in there for a minute.

It wasn't much ado about nothing ... more like an anti-climax, but whatever the case, at least it is over and done with.

I just want to be whole as we enter the final days of the year.

I am still having some after-effects from the prostate procedure I had done, but otherwise, I am doing pretty well.

Work--even the remote kind that I do--has been impossible lately, so I have been quite busy with that, and it is good to be busy, but not crazy busy, like this.

In between, I absolutely do not sit in front of the TV all day; I try to at least keep moving rather than sitting.

I digitize my records--I might be 150 before I am done--but yes, I do watch some TV.

One of the shows I used to watch on occasion was The Michael Kay Show on the YES Network, which was simulcast from its radio origins.

Now, after 22 years, Kay--the Yankees TV announcer--has moved on to another show, and at least right now, YES is not simulcasting either the new show replacing the original Kay show, nor the new Kay show, so if I am not overloaded with work to do at 3 p.m.--as I was pretty much all of last week--that option is now out.

At 7:30 p.m., once all of the local and national news shows are over for the early evening, I usually cast something to my TV to watch.

I have been doing this for months at this time of the day, and I have bounced around from one old TV show to another, from "The Abbott and Costello Sow" to "Mr. Ed," and seemingly everything in between.

For the past few months, I have been casting every short I can find from YouTube and Daily Motion related to the Our Gang/Little Rascals comedy shorts.

Of the more than 200 shorts, maybe about 50 are available on these sites, and I have watched two each night.

Thus was an incredible series to begin with, and watching these shorts between 80 and 100 years after the fact demonstrates how well these shorts have held up over the years.

They are still very funny, the kids remain engaging, and the scripts are generally very clever, even all these years later.

Sure, some of the humor is a bit over the top fir today's audiences, but taken for what they are, these shorts are not only funny, they give us a clear view of where we were as a society in the pre-World War II era and during the early war years.

They are a real cinema treasure, and even though I have probably watched most of these entries about 100 times each, if not more, I still marvel at these episodes, as I do continue to marvel at the kid actors, everyone from Farina to Stymie to Spanky and to Buckwheat--

What a talented bunch of kids they were!

So now that this health episode is over and done with, I hope that when I do have some time on my hands, I can really relax and when i have the time, watch what I want to watch when I want to watch it ...

Without a care in the world.

Rant #3,594: Hope and Deliverance

As you are reading this, I am in the dermatologist's office once again.

I found out last week that that lesion I had on my scalp was pre-cancerous, and it must be removed.

Some people are very prone to this, and I am one of them.

This probably had to do with my scalp's interaction with the sun from years, even decades, ago, and even when I had a full head of hair 

But the lesion grew over time, and it became cancerous, so I can certainly live without it.

When I received the news, I was in the middle of doing a long and involved project for work, so after getting the call, I stopped for a moment, and then, I picked up where I left off with my work--

I mean, what else could I do?

Shrug it off, and move on.

This weekend, my wife, son and I saw a performance by forever-Monkee Micky Dolenz at Westbury Music Fair, and that really was the salve for what ailed me.

He put on a nice show on Saturday night, much more laid back than in the past, singing many--but not all--of the most popular Monkees hits and telling stories of his time in and out of the spotlight.

What is great about this theater is that it literally is Long Island's "local" theater that has been drawing top acts to its stage--not revolving for this particular show--for the past 60 years.

And the place is so local that you will always see people you know there in the audience.

We saw a couple of friends, the head of the athletic program our son is in, and believe it or not, we also saw one of our son's former teachers when he was in the local school system. 

She remembered him and us, and we had a nice conversation--

Which continued as we went into the theater itself, as she and her husband sat right in front of us!

Earlier on Saturday, the holiday season started for me, as it always does, and has each year for the past 58 years, when I heard my favorite Christmas/holiday song on the radio for the first time this season.

"Snoopy's Christmas" by the Royal Guardsmen is the song, and this 1966 tune will always mean "the holidays" to me, both Christmas and Hanukkah.

The B side, "It Kinda Looks Like Christmas" is also a great song, and I have often said that maybe a "Hanukkah version" of "Snoopy's Christmas" might be in order, but right now, this Jewish boy will settle for the original.

So as I get this thing removed from me today, let's hope that this will be it for this type of thing, and that I never have to worry about such things again.

One can only pray for this goal to reach fruition, in this time of lights, hope and celebration.

Yes, it kinda looks like Christmas and it kinda looks like Hanukkah ...

Both just a little more than a week away!

Rant #3,593: Wonderful Christmas Time

 'Tis the season ...

Last week, a woman blocked me, and refused to let me into a local gas station, because I had the nerve to try to enter the wrong way--there was no other way to get in at that moment--and she forced me to back into oncoming traffic from both ways as she made her stand.

When she exited the gas station, she gave me the finger.

'Tis the season ...

A driver thought he had enough room to move into my lane as I drove right next to him. He moved into my lane, and the only way that I avoided him was to dart into another lane, so he basically pushed me out of my lane, and thank goodness there was no one on the lane I jumped into.

When he passed me, on the road, he was yelling at me, as if the whole thing was my fault.

'Tis the season...

My son and I went to the barber shop to get our hair cut, and there was an altercation between the usually mild-mannered owner and one of her workers.

My son was told to get his hair cut by this barber, but the barber refused, saying he needed to rest. The owner said he should rest during his break in a room in the back, but he refused to budge. She ripped out all of his electric accessories from the wall at his stand, but he refused to move, and my son went to some other barber.

The owner apologized to me, and I told her not to worry about it.

'Tis the season ...

Evidently for humans to show their most nasty, underhanded, vulgar tendencies.

I don't know what it is, but in seemingly "the most wonderful time of the year," people can sure be inhuman, can't they?

And today is Friday the 13th, so who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men (or women)?

So that being said, how about going into this holly, jolly weekend by reading the next chapter of my novel?

And your opinion matters, so don't hold back, one way or the other.

Just don't flip me the bird, OK?

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

11

Abraham Lincoln Panim and Mrs. Stottle became an exceptional learning team, with the boy speeding ahead from his contemporaries and finishing his public school education at 16 years of age, or two years ahead of his peers.

But Abraham Lincoln Panim was not up to his peers in other areas, such as in social situations. And with no father at home, he had many questions about life, but he felt ill at ease talking about them with Mrs. Stottle or even with his mother.

During one of their late night strolls, Abraham Lincoln Panim asked his mother, “How did you and daddy meet, and how did you end up having me?”

Mrs. Panim stopped in her tracks, and did not know what to say.

“Well, we met … “ she hesitated. “We met on the street one day. It was around holiday time, and we were both rushing around at night, and I guess we didn’t see each other … we bumped into each other, and we both fell onto the pavement. He was so bundled up with his heavy jacket and scarf, and I could barely hear him talk, but we kind of fell in love right then and there.”

“When did you get married?” Abraham Lincoln Panim asked.

“Oh, it wasn’t for several months later,” Mrs. Panim told her son. “Daddy always told me over the phone that he had to get things done first before he could see me again, and I guess that I just fell in love with his voice, and that he actually paid attention to me. We talked every day on the phone, but he did not want to see me in person just yet.

“He kept on telling me that he had to get things done so I would be proud of him, and then one day, he did what he said. He had done whatever he wanted to do, we met, had a few dates, and finally, we married.”

“And how did you have me, mom?” Alexander Lincoln Panim asked his mother, and again, she hesitated in her reply.

“For the birds and the bees, you did well in biology, so I am sure you know how you came about,” she told her son.

“No, I know all about that, but how did you have ME?” meaning, how did you have a son with a rat face that hated cheese.

It took Mrs. Panim a few moments to come up with an answer, which became her stock answer whenever the subject would be broached. “We had you because we loved each other,” and the subject was ended right then and there until it came up again during one of the mother and son’s night time walks.

Rant #3,592: Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Goodness.

People, in the name of the absolutely stupid side of our president elect, continue to believe that COVID does not exist, and that the shots are sort of a "mind/ body control" device.

Further, they lump in the COVID shot with real vaccines, like those for the measles and polio, that actually, through use, do eradicate their respective diseases.

This came up again on Facebook, and I let the dummies perpetuating the invalidity of COVID and the shots have it again.

"The shots were valid. The virus did, and still does, exist. They only mitigate the disease, and that is why there is such a commotion about it.

If the government would not have jumped the gun and labeled this as a vaccine--like what we have for measles and polio--I do believe there would never have been such a kerfuffle about this. 

But they were so eager to get people to take the shots, that they lied to us all. Now, people are refusing to have their children get ANY shots, and that is just plain wrong.

The real vaccines are beneficial, wiping out horrid diseases for good ... until the foolish among us started to not get them for their kids.

Funny, these adults received the shots when they were kids, as most school districts require them ... did it do irreparable harm to them?

I had measles as a very young child because I was way too young to get the shots at that time; you don't want your kids to get that disease, take it from me.

The COVID "vaccine" isn't one, as it only generally lessens the symptoms for many of us. 

But it does do the job. Don't knock it."

Of course, others knocked what I said, but I fought back once again.

They quote something called the "Adverse Reaction Reporting System," but I let them have it.

"I, and everyone I know, had absolutely no problems, or minor aches and pains that went away as quickly as they came.

This is the utter nonsense that makes me feel proud that I did what I believe was the right thing and voted for neither Trump nor Harris ...

But funny, remember Operation Warp Speed? That was Trump's program to get the research on the shots started.

He didn't believe anything, either, until his family, and he himself, got COVID.

And I am sure that as a child, you got your shots, so yes, the government was fully at fault in how they sold these most recent innoculations, but these shots are valid. They are NOT vaccines.

Believe what you want. I had the measles, everyone I know, except my son, got different degrees of COVID, and people died from this malady.

And there can be adverse reactions to ANY shot. I get allergy shots once a month ... can I say in my more than 50 years of getting them that not a one ever hurt, caused a black and blue mark, or made me suffer slightly?

Stop the nonsense, but I know you won't. I, at least, have the guts, and the experience, to show you how ridiculous what you say actually is."

You want your kids to get sick ... keep this charade hot on the fire ...

Like the belief that some people were actually eating others' pets.

Now, that is something that actually is utter nonsense ... or now that I said that, will some people try to prove that this is actually true?

Take a shot and be quiet!

And now that I think about it--

Did these people who believe this nonsense about eating pets give their own pets the required shots?

Or are they scared of mind/body control of their dogs and cats?

Rant #3,591: Money (That's What I Want)

So, Juan Soto signed with the New York Mets for more money than anyone will ever know what to do with.

The New York Yankees made their own crazy offer, with more years and less money, but he opted for more moolah.

As a Yankees' fan, all I can say is this:

They can have him. Let's move on and sign some free agents. It will be interesting to see what they do, now that the focus isn't on re-signing Soto.

Funny, yesterday afternoon, my wife and I talked to our financial advisor, and although our money is doing OK in the stock market, the two of us are going to have to work for the foreseeable future--probably forever--for us to make ends meet and to enjoy life.

So, Soto's contract means nothing to me ... I have to worry about paying my own rent and being able to live a decent life.

It had all to do with money, and absolutely nothing else.

If the worst team in history, the Chicago White Sox, bid higher, he would have gone to them.

Soto and his people don't care about tradition, they dont care about the Bleacher Creatures, they don't care about the World Series, they don't care about anything ... it was the money.

It all came down to the money.

Sure, he can opt out after five years, but honestly, if he opts out, who else is going to pay this type of money to him?

The only team who can afford all.of this is the Mets, because of their owner, Steve Cohen, who appears to be the only person in baseball who can afford such a player.

As a Yankees fan, I simply can't be angry ... maybe a little disappointed, but not angry.

Soto is a great player, a great hitter and a better defensive player than I thought, with a great arm.

But he was a one-year rental, and beyond that, you tossed the dice with him.

The Yankees went whole hog for Soto, but they backed out after the Mets made their offer.

Now, the Yankees have to make this all work, by signing some choice free agents and getting back to the World Series.

They already have the game's best player in Aaron Judge, so they are now free to build from there.

But wait until the Mets play the Yankees at Yankee Stadium.

I would say that right now, it would be best if Soto was the designated hitter during those games, because if he goes out to play rightfield, there is going to be a real need for added security when he runs out to play his position.

There are some of my fellow Yankees fans who are taking this personally, and won't take too kindly when they see Soto in a Mets uniform in rightfield.

But right now, I can't worry about something like this. I have to worry about more important things, like putting food on the table.

Thus, I am going to take tomorrow off, because I have to cover a meeting for work.

I am not getting paid millions to do this job, but it is everything for my family and myself.

So I can't worry about money that I will never see in my lifetime, or 20 lifetimes.

I will speak to you again on Thursday.

I won't be counting my dollars, but I will be letting my fingers do the talking, as I type all.of this out.

Money... it is just paper.

(I wish.)

Rant #3,590: I Remember

A year ago yesterday, I re-tore my left leg's quad muscle, and 10 days later, I went under the knife for a second time, with absolutely no guarantees that this second surgery would work.

Due to my surgeon's expertise and my own positive attitude and work ethic, it worked, and while I will never have the flexibility I once had in my left leg, after what I endured, I look at my current situation as a miracle, and I have a lot to be thankful for.

Heck, all I did was open up a closet, and the contents of that closet--a heavy plastic dresser--fell on me, with the force re-tearing that part of my body.

Freak accidents sermed to follow me in 2024, as I tore the quad to begin with after I fell down exactly two stairs and my left knee went directly into a box of photo albums.

It was like I went into a brick walk with my knee, and the result was as one would expect.

Then even more recently, my prostate checked out OK--cancer-free--based on procedure results after I had a scare. 

And then I had a small piece of my scalp removed, again to make sure thst piece wasn't cancerous.

And I have gotten through all.of this with flying colors.

Like I said, I have a lot to be thankful for as we end 2024 and move into 2025.

I consider myself to be fortunate, very lucky, and very blessed.

I have successfully dodged a couple of bullets during the past few months, and while I am certainly not Superman, with bullets bouncing off my chest, I weathered several storms, and I came out OK.

Maybe I am simply lucky, in a weird sort of way, but at this stage of the game, I have to say I feel pretty good.

So please make me feel even better and read the next chapter of my novel.

Again, I wrote this five years ago during the beginning and height of the pandemic, during ome of the lowest mental times of my life, when both myself and my son were out of work due to circumstances way beyond our control.

I guess it was my way of keeping busy, even though between looking for work--for both of us--and taking care of my parents, I was actually busier than I ever was.

Believe me, that period was no vacation for me, and I continue to experience the reverberations, more than five years later.

So give this next chapter a read, and please let me know what you feel about it, positive or negative.

Thanks!

10

Abraham Lincoln Panim was home schooled, and he learned about the world from Mrs. Stottle. He learned the three R’s from her, and once he was able to read and write and do basic math, he progressed to social studies, English, foreign language, and he progressed very quickly.

And as he progressed with his learning, Mrs. Panim also progressed in her school, rising from a member of the teaching staff to a lead teacher, then to a guidance counselor, and finally, to the principal’s position.

Both Mrs. Panim and her son were fast learners, picking up things quickly, and Mrs. Stottle was more than happy to accommodate each one’s needs, even as she was herself getting a bit older.

Abraham Lincoln Panim was getting older, but he retained his rat-like features. Mrs. Stottle tried to get him to be more social, but even if they went outside to do some schoolwork, he often covered himself up with a scarf so nobody would see his face.

The boy always waited patiently for his mother to come home from school, and the two always ventured outside in the darkness, whether to get some fresh air or to get some exercise or just to talk.

If someone approached, Abraham Lincoln Panim would cover himself up with his scarf, just to make sure nobody stared at him. Even in the dark, his features, he felt, could still be seen.

The mother and son often talked when they were together in the evening when they went out for a stroll.

“Mom, whatever happened to daddy?” Abraham Lincoln Panim would often ask his mother.

She would always hesitate when he asked the question, trying to come up with a new answer every time the question was asked. But it all came down to the very same thing.

“My son, your father was a good man,” she would say. “I just think that he lost his way, and he will return home to us one day.”

And she would always add, “And he would be so proud of you!”

When Abraham Lincoln Panim was younger, that response sufficed, but as he got older, it didn’t do the trick anymore, but he let his mother say the same thing, because he felt it soothed her own soul.

Abraham Lincoln Panim believed that he knew why his father never came back home, and he knew the reason was him and the way he looked.

But he would never tell his mother that, because he felt it would make her sad. But he always asked the question, hoping that one day, maybe something would be said, something would come out of his mother’s mouth that would be new, something that he could understand.

Mrs. Panim stayed steadfast to her explanation, and something different never was spoken about her husband and Abraham Lincoln Panim’s dad.

But he still asked the question, hoping for a different answer that he never received.

Rant #3,589: Dumb

Something lighter for today ...

Have you ever served on a jury?

Several years ago, I was supposed to serve on a jury in the court in Brooklyn, but my employer told me that either I get off the jury, or he wouldn't pay me, and on top of that, he would fire me--

Which, of course, is totally illegal, and I told him I would sue him if he dared to fire me.

(Once again, sometimes you have to threaten litigation, and remarkably, people come to their senses pretty quickly.)

I have not had the pleasure on serving on a jury since, but my wife has done this, and her work did not give her the least bit of a problem.

Since we moved to a new residence in November 2023, my wife and my son have both been put on standby, but they haven't gotten me yet.

In fact, my son was cited by Nassau County, and as I have told you time and time again, we don't live in Nassau anymore, we live in Suffolk County.

And what's worse, they had our current address correct, which is a Suffolk County address.

As I have told you many times, we live on the border of the two counties, and I have a feeling that at one time, this address was, in fact, in Nassau County, but has since been redistricted.

Anyway, the latest wrinkle to this quagmire is this:

Guess who just was served as a standby juror?

My mother, that's who!

My mother never lived at our residence in Suffolk County, yet the letter went right to this residence.

And it was for Nassau County!

And, the third thing--

She is deceased, passing away in September of last year 

I received this letter, giggled a little bit, but it was now my job to get her out of this obligation, one she couldn't do even if she was still with us.

I called two numbers that were provided on the communication, but after about 20 minutes of calling one number and then the other, I wasn't getting anywhere--

So I decided to find a number for the Commissioner of Jurors Office, in Mineola, in Nassau County.

I actually got a real human being on the line, someone named Mike, and I explained to him the following:

1) The communication was addressed to an address my mother never lived at.

2) The address is a Suffolk County address, so it automatically negates the summons, as the address is not in Nassau County.

3) My mother cannot serve, anyway, because she is--

DECEASED.

Yes, I had a little fun with this, because it is so idiotic, that you almost have to play with it to make it worth your while--and time.

I honestly thought I was going to be asked for proof of her passing, which I would refuse to provide because we don't live in Nassau County.

(As an aside, for my son, I had to provide documentation that we lived in Suffolk County and also that he was handicapped, precluding him from serving on a jury with the type of malady he has--and again, it was for serving on a Nassau County jury, not one in Suffolk County.)

After I told him my mother was no longer with us, Mike told me that he would take care of it after I provided him with verbal proof that she was deceased, and that was the end of that.

I find it beyond belief that government offices actually believe we live in Nassau County when we live in Suffolk County.

You would think they would know one county address from another, and as I have told you in the past, my family has had numerous problems with several agencies related to the fact that we live in Suffolk and not Nassau.

Heck, the police don't even know what county we live in, so why should these agencies?

And suffice it to say, I have not yet been served for jury duty, from Nassau nor from Suffolk.

I once read that there is a house in New York State that actually sits directly on the border of the United States and Canada--

One part of it is in the U.S., and the other part is in our friends to the north.

The house has had numerous owners over the years, and the homeowners have always been able to work out something so everything is copacetic between the U.S., Canada, New York State and whatever province they are in in Canada.

I almost feel the same way ...

And now, my deceased mother has become part of this craziness, which I am not too happy about.

But what more can I do about this?

My family and I are certainly not the only ones to experience this situation, as we are a community of more than 200 apartments here, so I would assume all of us have experienced this stupidity.

But when government agencies don't even know where you live ...

You really have to wonder.

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

From Suffolk County, New York.

Rant #3,588: The Time Has Come Today

Omer Neutra.

That name might not ring a bell, but he is an important figure in world events today.

Neutra, a joint American-Israeli citizen, was memorialized on Tuesday in a synagogue in his native Long Island.

Thought to be one of the 100 or so hostages that still remain captive by Hamas, the Israeli military sadly confirmed a few days back that Neutra died in the terrorist group's initial attack on Israel in October 2023.

His body still remains in possession of Hamas.

When the family found out that Neutra had been dead for over a year--after hoping against hope that he was still alive for all of this time--a hastily called memorial service was put together for him.

And to show how barbaric Hamas actually is, they still hold his body--and probably hundreds of others--as the war that they started rages on, with no end in sight.

This is rubbing salt into the wound of the family, and every other family whose members were murdered during that fateful October day, as by Jewish law, the dead must be buried quickly.

Holding bodies for over a year is not only barbaric and inhuman, but don't you know Hamas knows about Jewish burials, and is just turning the knife a little tighter when refusing to return the remains to the affected families?

Hamas is a barbaric, terrorist organization, and those ignorant people who believe in their cause ... how do they explain--and more importantly, justify-- the holding of dead bodies?

Not only are the hostages nothing but pawns, but the remains of the dead are too.

You cannot deal with terrorists, and the United States and other countries who are trying to broker peace ...

While well.meaning, I am afraid they just don't get it.

And I wonder, as this war rages on, if they will ever get it.

And that is sad, very sad, as well as being disappointing.

Neutra and the others have had their lives snuffed out by a subhuman group who have no care about human life, using their own people as shields for their devil's work.

But the devil always gets his due, and in this case, that day shall come sooner than later.

You can bet on that.

Rant #3,587: I Can't Stand Up For Falling Down

I go from a high to a low like skydiver jumping from a plane.

Yesterday morning, I went to the dermatologist, and he found a growth in my head that he removed, and it has to go out to the lab for further tests.

I had a similar thing happen several months ago, and that growth was cancerous, so I had to get that fully removed.

What about this time?

Hopefully, it is nothing, but if it is something, it can be taken care of pretty easily ... but it still worries me a bit.

Some people, like me, are very prone to what they call "skin tags," or growths of skin that appear for absolutely no reason.

I have had several of these taken care of over the years, but that one on my head from a few months ago did turn out to be cancerous, so there is some concern.

If I hear back from the doctor in a few days, I am sure I will have to come into the office again and get it removed.

Many skin cancers are treatable if found early, so if this is. In fact, cancerous, I can get it removed quickly and hopefully, that is that.

On Thursday, I have to go to the dentist with my son for a routine checkup and cleaning, and I sure hope thar the dentist doesn't find anything in my, or my son's, mouth.

I want to get off this roller coaster, and simply go into the new year with good health.

If you have your health, you have everything--

And that is what I want.

And I don't think I am being selfish in wanting that.

But until I find out if this is anything, I will just have to wait it out.

Let's just hope it is another one of these silly growths and nothing else.

And again, I ask of you the following:

Wish me luck!

Rant #3,586: Safe At Home

I was not going to post anything today, because as you are reading this, I am in a doctor's office waiting to be looked at--

But the message I have for you is too important to keep silent.

You might remember that during late summer, I was supposed to have a medical procedure, but I postponed it when I thought my car was stolen, later to find out that the car was towed.

But anyway, I was in such a way--mentally, physically and emotionally--that I was in no shape to get the procedure done at that time, so I canceled my doctor's appointment, vowing to make another appointment when I was ready.

I stayed true to what I said, and scheduled the new appointment for two weeks ago yesterday.

I had the procedure done, and then yesterday morning, I found out the results.

Before I tell you what they were, I will tell you what medical procedure was that I had done.

Due to increased numbers, I had a biopsy of my prostate.

Not only were my prostate-specific antigen (PSA) test numbers up way past where they should be, but my family history--with my father, grandfather and uncle all having had some problems--begged for me to be tested.

I had the procedure done, I had, and still have, some after effects, but--

No cancer was found.

Men in my age group often have higher readings than younger men do, so what I experienced was not unusual.

Readings can change from day to day, and a second blood test showed that my level fell about 30 points, but it was still over the norm, so it was suggested that I have the biopsy done.

I went through a year of horror with my left leg, and now that things have subsided, somewhat, with that part of my body, I now had to deal with this, and deal with not knowing what the results were during Thanksgiving.

But everything turned out OK. 

I will just have to be monitored periodically, the next time six months from now, a procedure which will include blood and urine tests and an MRI, I would assume.

The actual procedure was tough, but with the help of my family and a good doctor, I got through it.

Guys, listen to me here.

If your levels are beyond the norm, please do yourself a favor and get the procedure done.

It could save your life--

And if you have a problem, it can be treated, and you can beat this with early intervention.

I was prepared for the worst, and I expected the best.

And I received the best news I could possibly have gotten.

So please, don't hesitate, get this done if you have to.

Now I am at the dermatologist, again holding my breath.

Some time ago, I had a cancerous growth removed from.my scalp, and hopefully, it is gone for good.

But again, I am prepared to go through the removal procedure again if anything shows up.

Wish me luck!

Rant #3,585: Wild One

Well, I got what I wanted at Record Store Day on Black Friday, and I am kind of glad that I woke up early to do so--

Because I learned that in the future, I don't have to do this anymore, for reasons I will keep to myself.

So when the next Record Store Day comes up in April, I can wake up a bit later and get what I want to get--

And then leave.

Vamoose!

And let me tell you, it was a difficult morning.

I made my purchases, got in my car, and the dummy light on my car dashboard went on--

Telling me that I had low tire pressure on my rear right tire.

I drove directly to get it repaired, and it ended up that I had a nail lodged near the rim, so I needed a new tire.

I must have picked up the nail when we drove to my brother-in-law's house for Thanksgiving, or maybe even when I picked up my son at work on Wednesday.

Whatever the case, the tire held out for probably 100 miles or so before it became a problem, so thank goodness for that.

But I was out the money for a new tire, and after waiting two hours for it to be fixed, I had to go food shopping.

And I learned a valuable lesson:

Do not go food shopping on Black Friday.

No, the supermarket wasn't the least bit busy, but since so many people did their food shopping for Thanksgiving, the store was missing plenty of stuff on the shelves, being cleaned out for the holiday and not yet being able to fill in the holes.

They were in the process of doing that when I got there, so I simply arrived there at the wrong time.

My son accompanied me to the supermarket, so after we got home and put everything away, we had a well-deserved lunch, and then, I got back to things I had to do, which included our banking.

Social Security came just in time for the holiday, and my son and I were paid from our respective employees, so I had to do my usual banking rituals thst happen at the end/beginning of the month, all revolving around paying rent on the first of the new month.

I did what I could at home, and then I went to two banks, did what I had to do--

And my day, which began at about 3:15 a.m in the morning, finally came to a halt by mid-afternoon.

I guess it was all worth it, but I have to admit that I was pooped.

Today, I have one of three doctors' appointments that I have this week.

Tomorrow's appointment is very early in the morning, so I am going to have to skip tomorrow's Rant and come back with full force on Wednesday.

So I will speak to you then ...

But in the meantime, how about reading the next chapter of my novel?

Plusses or minuses are appreciated.

Thanks, and speak to you again on Wednesday.

9

When Mrs. Panim, her son, and Mrs. Stottle arrived home that day, and after the boy was cleaned up, Mrs. Panim sat on the sofa in her living room, her head in her hands, crying.

“What am I going to do, what am I going to do?” she repeated over and over and over again. Mrs. Stottle came by her, sat down on the sofa next to her, and tried to comfort her.

“He will be fine. He will be just fine,” Mrs. Stottle said, putting her hand on Mrs. Panim’s back. “He is a fine young boy, and don’t take what happened today as an omen for things to come. Abraham Lincoln Panim will do well in life.”

“But what am I going to do about nursery school, and even when he goes into kindergarten, and first grade, and second grade … ? Mrs. Panim asked, still sobbing between each word of her question to Mrs. Stottle.

“I have an idea,” replied Mrs. Stottle, as Mrs. Panim continued to cry. “I have a wonderful idea.”

Mrs. Panim looked up briefly as the tears continued to fall out of her eyes. “What idea is that,” she asked Mrs. Stottle.

Mrs. Stottle stood up and walked to the side of Mrs. Panim. “A number of years ago—“

“What’s the idea?” Mrs. Panim interrupted.

“Just hear me out,” replied Mrs., Stottle. “Please hear me out.”

She gave Mrs. Panim a wad of tissues to dry her eyes, and then the older woman told the younger woman about her idea.

“A number of years ago, long before you were born, I went to school, and probably thought that I would meet the man of my dreams and get married and live in a home surrounded by a white picked fence and have scads and scads of kids myself,” Mr. Stottle said.

“What does this have to do with--?” Mrs. Panim asked.

Mrs., Stottle sat down on the couch next to Mrs. Panim and put an arm around her.

“Let me continue,” Mrs., Stottle said. “Well, my knight in shining armor did not come to take me away, and once I got through high school, I decided to go to college, which, back then, wasn’t something a lot of young ladies did.

“I went to college, got my degree, and since my knight in shining armor never came to rescue me, when I had my college degree, I reached a point where I had to decide what I was going to do with my life.

“I decided to go into teaching, and I ended up teaching for a number of years.”

When Mrs. Panim heard this, her tears stopped coming out of her eyes, and she looked at Mrs. Stottle.

“Please let me continue,” Mrs. Stottle said. “Anyway, I taught for a number of years at a local school. I taught young kids, kindergarten, first, second grade, children of that age.

“And even when I was teaching, I always thought that my knight in shining armor was going to come, and one day, he did! He was another teacher, by the name of Herman Stottle, and he came from another school to teach at my school. He was so handsome, so tall and good looking, and really smart. He was in the room next to mine, and the moment I saw him, I knew that my knight in shining armor had finally come.”

Mrs. Panim, now completely composed, said, “Well, that is all fine and good, but what does all of this have to do with my son? You probably taught many, many years ago.”

“Yes, I did. But back to my story … Herman and I were married after about a year, and we had a wonderful marriage. He continued to teach, and so did I.

“Then, after a number of years of teaching, I found that my eyesight was failing, and my feet were killing me. I could still see, and I could still walk, but not very well. Herman and I went to a number of specialists, but they could do nothing for me.

“Finally, after about 25 years of teaching, I could no longer do my job because I simply could not see well, nor could I stay on my feet for any long period of time. I had to retire. But I asked my principal if I could mentor, or tutor, special children, kids who he thought had the potential to be really successful but didn’t have the confidence to get to that point, or maybe were a little different than what you would call the ‘normal’ child.”

Mrs. Panim’s still red eyes lit up, as if a light bulb went off in her head as Mrs. Stottle went on with her story.

“So even though I couldn’t see well, nor walk well, for a few years, I tutored one child each year. Mr. Stottle continued to teach. We could not have children of our own, so his class were his children and my special student was my child. I know that might seem odd, but that is how we looked at it.

“One year, I tutored a beautiful little girl, who was a foster child and who I knew would succeed with whatever she did. She had little confidence. Children had made fun of her, she was very self conscious of the way she looked, but during that year with me, she came out of her shell, and her body changed, and she looked like every other young lady you would see in school.”

Mrs. Panim wanted to speak, but Mrs. Stottle put a finger up to the younger woman’s mouth.

“I was Miss Meyer back then, and that little girl was born with a tail. When it fell off that year, it was like that little girl was a different child.

“And that child, that little girl who went from a moth to a butterfly over the course of that year, was YOU!”

All of a sudden, the past came into focus for Mrs. Panim. Mrs. Stottle and Miss Meyer were one and the same person. She was the woman who helped her during that one very important year when she was growing up, when she still had a tail that protruded out of her that she was so self conscious of that she always tried to cover it up as best she could.

She never went swimming, never exposed it to anyone, but her classmates knew, and she was the victim of taunting and numerous jokes from both boys and girls.

But then, with Miss Meyer tutoring her, she finally found a friend, someone who believed in her, and the tail literally fell off.

And Mrs. Panim suddenly remembered Mrs. Stottle’s large feet, which she always complained about, and how large and sore they seemed to be.

After that year, she never saw Miss Meyer again. She often wondered what had happened to her, but it all came to her very quickly …

“Do unto others as you would have the do unto you … treat other people the way you would like to be treated yourself.”

“Oh, Miss Meyer … Mrs. Stottle … I so often wondered about you and what had happened to you,” Mrs., Panim said as she hugged the older woman.

“Please let me finish my story,” Mrs. Stottle said. “I tutored kids like you, kids a little bit out of the ordinary, for a number of years, until my eyesight wouldn’t allow for it anymore. Mr. Stottle eventually retired, and I am sorry to say he passed away a little while ago.

“But even if I wasn’t teaching, I always renewed my teaching license, and I still have it. If you allow me to, I will be Abraham Lincoln Panim’s teacher. He can be home taught, and never have to deal with those people again.”

Mrs. Panim screamed “Yes!” and that was signaled the beginning of a new chapter in Abraham Lincoln Panim’s life that was ready to unfold.