Rant #3,646: Big Shot

Measles cases are popping up all over the place. 

One kid already died from the disease in Texas, and the disease is rapidly spreading.

Two cases were just reported in New Jersey, and there have been many others west of where I live--but you just know that measles will be coming here too.

Why is there a measles outbreak?

Well, it is pretty simple.

First, you have people being let into this country without any innoculations, whether it is measles or polio, whooping cough, and all the other diseases that have been eradicated by real, honest-to-goodness vaccines.

Next, you have un-vaccinated people traveling abroad, and bringing the disease back with them to infect other unvaccinated people.

Then, you have people who won't let their children get the real vaccines. They don't trust any innoculations, mixing up true vaccines--which have done their job for generations--with the COVID shot. Both the Trump and Biden Administrations failed us here, mishandled the information about the shots--what they can and can't do--and all of this put a bug in the head for people who really should know better--they got the vaccines, the real vaccines themselves, and it didn't kill them, so why the hesitancy now?

Well, that is an easy one to figure out.

The buck stops on the doorstep of Robert F. Kennedy Jr., our new secretary of Health and Human Services, who is perhaps the most well-known anti-vaxxer in this country ... and yes, both he and his kids have gotten their shots.

People in social media have once again taken sides on the issue about innoculations and real vaccines, and I have been part of that discourse.

I do understand people being hesitant, to an extent, since our own government marked the waters with its mishandling of the dissemination of information about the COVID shot, but we nearly wiped out measles for good, and that vaccine is a real vaccine, and should never be said in the same breath as the COVID shot.

But you do have ignorant people in this country ... and they all got their vaccinations just like RFK Jr. and you and I did.

One former popular actress, who I will not name because she doesn't deserve mention here, has been spreading misinformation and lies for years on Facebook, and I finally got fed up.

I answered her in the following way:

"Stop the nonsense. You, yourself have the vaccines in your body. Have they caused you any harm at all?

The problem, which I said a million times, is that the government told us a bit of a fib about the COVID innoculation, which they told us was a true vaccine--like the measles and polio vaccines--but was only a mitigater, lessening the effects of the disease but not wiping it out like a true vaccine does.

But you people who have become so suspect of all true vaccines are completely paranoid, and paranoid without reason.

Ever have measles? I had it when I was very young. The vaccine was not out yet--not for about four years. They are the first memories of my life, and they are not good ones.

Have all children get their vaccines, as kids have been doing for generations. They won't die from getting them--they will live a full life!

And as for the COVID shot: ask your doctor which shot you should get, because not all people can get the Moderna and Pfizer shots because of existing health conditions. But COVID was/is real, and the shots do work to lessen the effects.

I had three COVID shots, got COVID, and I had it for--12 hours! That's it!

And stop the misinformation. You have absolutely no idea what you are talking about!"

There isn't really very much more to add to this, other than some of this actress' followers took me to task big time.

Not one would address whether they ever had measles like I did.

I could have died from this disease back in 1958 or so. Even if the vaccine was around then, I probably could not have been given it, because I was way too young.

Thank goodness doctors created this vaccine, which really does work.

And measles is very good at finding people who have not been vaccinated.

Let your kids and grandkids get whst is called the MMR set of vaccines; it has protected us for generations, and it will continue to protect us for generations to come.

Nothing more needs to be said on this subject.

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

Rant #3,645: Amen

It was another great day outside yesterday, once again feeling more like April than February.

It is going to be another warm day today, but I believe that we will see some rain today.

Better rain than snow!

And yesterday, my son and I went to yet another organization that is supposed to help him in his job quest.

The Nassau County office never did much for him, but now we are in Suffolk County, so it remains to be seen if it is the "same old, same old" or something completely different.

The nice weather has brought my memory back to when I was a kid growing up in Rochale Village, Queens.

When the weather warmed up, my friends and I played stick ball, punch ball, and so many other street games that we were never bored for long.

There was always something to do once the weather warmed up, and those days are some of the fondest memiries of my childhood.

I also remember one of the weirdest weather days from those times.

It had to be 1966 or so, so I was nine years old.

School was in session, and I used to walk to school at the then-new P S. 30 with my friend.

This particular morning, we left our building and immediately saw this long-ago memory unfold right in front of us.

We walked into a fog like I have never seen before or since.

It was as thick as pea soup, and you literally could not see very far in front of you.

We were probably a bit scared, but as we were walking toward the school, we heard a group of kids singing.

They were three or four black kids singing the Impressions' "Amen," a gospel-flavored rhythm and blues/pop hit of the time.

You knew they were singing because they were as scared as we were, and the singing got louder as we got closer to them, and could finally see them through the heavy fog.

It made my friend and I even more scared as we trudged toward school, doing it by memory because we could not see two feet in front of us.

I don't remember anything else about that day. We evidently got to the school, and the fog probably cleared by the time we finished the school day and walked home--

But it is one of the indelible memories of my childhood, one that I will never forget and always think about when I hear the song "Amen."

The recent weather hasn't been anything near the weather from that one morning, and I have no idea whst caused those pea soup conditions.

But the recent days have been nice, among the multitude of nice weather days i have experienced in my nesrly 68 years of life.

They kind of all fade into one, but that day 60 years ago stood out like a sore thumb, and it will never blend into any other day--

It is a day I will never forget, a memory I can laugh at now, but it was more scary and bewildering than anything way back when.

But I experienced it, the memory stays with me, and to that, I can say only one word--

"AMEN."

(P.S.: Doing some research on this day, it might have actually occurred right before Thanksgiving, on November 23, 1966.

A great haze of smog enveloped New York City for a few days just prior to that year's holiday.

The smog was the severest ever seen over New York City and parts of the Metropolitan area, and it was so severe that it caused numerous deaths to those with respiratory problems.

So I was not hallucinating, it did happen, but it was smog, not fog.

But to us kids, it was just fog--like pea soup.

And again--

"AMEN.")

Rant #3,644: The Skin I'm In

Heck, it felt a little like April out there yesterday!

After days of frigid temperatures and some snow, we are hitting the 50s as February peters out.

Yesterday, I had a somewhat interesting morning.

First off, as I have spoken about in the past, I am very prone to getting skin lesions on my body.

I have had cancerous ones removed, non-cancerous ones taken off of me, some on my nose and some on my scalp--

And some on my face and other body parts (no, not that part).

Anyway, while shaving on Sunday morning, I discovered another such lesion, this one on my lower left cheek of my face.

I didn't even know I had it until I was shaving and looked in the mirror and saw this thing, which looked like a small, somewhat round bump in that area.

Since I only discovered it this past Sunday, I theorize that I probably rose to the surface about a week ago.

Again, I didn't know that I even had it until I shaved.

Anyway, on Monday, I called my dermatologist and made an appointment for Tuesday morning.

The doctor said it might have been a wart, but as he was removing it, he said it would be sent to the lab for testing--cancer testing--which was fine with me.

Skin cancer is the easiest cancer to treat, but yes, like any cancer, it can spread and it can be deadly.

If you see any lesion on your body that doesn't belong there, you really have to get it checked out by a dermatologist.

You don't want it to become something worse than it actually is.

I have had these lesions all over my body (again not there) but as I get older, I seem to be even more prone to getting these things than I was when I was younger, so when I see something, I get it taken care of.

And I am not talking about a pimple, which we all get ... I am talking about something that lasts more than a few days and doesn't resemble a pimple, more like a sore.

But it does not have to hurt; this latest one didn't hurt at all, and that is why I didnt realize I had it.

I cannot tell you enough to get these things removed by a professional.

Do not use a skin tag remover, because honestly, you might get the lesion off of your body, but you won't know if it is simply a skin growth or if it is cancerous.

So I got this thing removed, and now, as something of a bonus, I have a good reason not to shave for a couple of days as the spot on my cheek heals.

I also have some ointment to apply to the area, so I probably won't shave until.Sunday.

And I hope this Sunday is different from this past Sunday, and I don't find any surprises on my face or on my body (and certainly not there).

Again, if you see something, say something, and get this done ASAP.

It might look like nothing, but it can turn into something if left unattended.

Do yourself a favor and get this thing checked.

It will be among the best things you can ever do for yourself.

Rant #3,643: Jump

Now, there is some thought here on Long Island on not making physical education--namely gym class--mandatory for most students.

I have kind of mixed feelings about this proposal.

Physical activity is good for the mind, soul and body--

To a degree.

I love sports, but I was a lousy athlete.

Gym class simply amplified my deficiencies, and I really never did well in gym class, in junior high school and through high school.

Students like me were marginalized--in particular in high school, where it was clear who the haves and haves not were.

Our lockers told the true story.

My locker, and others like me, were seemingly in the bowels of the gym, while the athletes' lockers were right on floor level. And they were bigger and nicer than the constantly broken and vandalized lockers that we non-athletes were forced to use.

In junior high, I even failed gym during one semester.

At I.S. 72 in Rochdale Village, Queens, I could not climb the rope like more athletic boys could, and the gym teacher failed me.

I was in an honors class, so that didn't sit too well with myself or my mom, who went up to school about this.

They told me that not only couldn't I climb the rope, but I didn't seem to be fully engaged in the class, no doubt due to the fact that the gym teachers had their favorites, and never chose me to do anything in the class.

The teachers shrugged off my ineptitude to my mother, and they told her that they would try to engage me more on their end.

They made me one of the boys that was in the Leaders Club, but they still never chose me to do anything.

So I was turned off by gym class forever, and since I wasn't an athlete, once I got to high school--i was on Long Island now at Massapequa High School--gym class became a place where I made my own fun, and since I wasn't an athlete, the teachers didn't seem to care one bit.

I know things have changed during the past 50 years, and gym class is more inclusive, and it isn't just athletics, good health is also taught in these classes, and there is more bookwork than when I was a student.

But you know what?

I really could have lived without the class.

It was a good break from regular studies, it gave me something of a break during the day, but if I never took gym, I don't think I would have suffered too much.

And unlike so many others in my situation, I never cut the class, I was always there, but to the gym teachers, I was probably invisible.

I say make gym class an elective, except for athletes.

If you aren't an athlete, you don't have to take gym ... but you can if you want to.

I think that would solve the problem of the "Larrys" of the world, who won't ever get the full effect of gym class--

Not because they don't want to get the full effect, but there are forces that simply won't allow for this to happen.

Problem solved ... and it is funny--and really sad at the same time-- how the sting still exists, 50 or more years after the fact.

Maybe I should do some push-ups to get my mind, and body, on straight again.

Rant #3,642: The Hair On My Chinny Chin Chin

My son's interview went fine on Friday.

We won't hear back from them for two weeks, so I am not going to worry about it.

Now onto other things ...

As you know, the biggest story of baseball's spring training has absolutely nothing to do with what is happening on the field, it's what's happening on the face.

The New York Yankees have partially rescinded a team rule of 49 years' standing, and are now permitting "nicely groomed" facial hair on their players.

The rule was put into place in the mid-1970s, when owner George Steinbrenner believed that fine grooming would set his team apart from others, and provide the team with a standard of grooming that was a mix of military and college football mores.

Hal Steinbrenner, George Steinbrenner's son who now runs the show in the Bronx, just felt it was time to relax the rules a wee bit.

He said something to the effect that he hopes ballplayers have not been turned off for possibly playing for the Yankees because of the old rule, a rule which is not totally out the window with this change.

Players can still have facial hair, but it must be trimmed, and the same things goes for their head hair.

(So they can't look like former Colorado Rockies' player Charlie Blackmon, above.)

Massive amounts of jewelry during a game remains prohibited, as do massive tattoos on the players' arms.

I think team captain Aaron Judge said it best when responding to Steinbrenner's belief that the original no facial hair edict was turning off players.

He said (paraphrase), "If the rule bothered any player thst much, then maybe they shouldn't really be a New York Yankee."

Me, I hate to shave to begin with. But I do shave my face twice a week.

I don't look good in a beard, as it grows in in about three different colors, and it itches like crazy.

So if I was one of the Yankees' players, all it would mean to me is that I wouldn't have to shave every day anymore.

I wish the hair on my head would grow as much as my facial hair, but that boat left the shore about 40 years ago, and it isn't coming back.

So when you see the Yankees play this year, some will have beards, some will have some shadows on their faces, and some will have full-fledged facial hair.

If it gets them back to the World Series, and they win it, this will all be worth it.

Otherwise, the tumult it caused in the sporting world reminded us that we are only in February, and that we still have more than a month to go before the actual 2025 Major League Baseball season to begin.

And as an aside to this, there remains one professional sports team that still has a "no facial hair" grooming rule, and that is--

The National Hockey League's New York Islanders.

I guess that with the Yankees' relaxing of their rule, the puck really does stop on the ice when it comes to facial hair on professional athletes.

"Hair today," but you can't say "gone tomorrow" anymore, at least on the baseball field.

Rant #3,641: Goody Goody Gumdrops

Today is my son's interview.

Let's hope I can keep this happy streak going.

As long as he has a fair interview. I will be satisfied.

As per the way these things happen, they aren't going to tell him right away if he has or doesn't have the job, so as long as it is a fair interview, that is great.

It all makes me flash back to my own varying interview experience, where I had some less- than-memorable situations.

I had one, during the late 1970s and early 1980s, where an interviewer with one of the New York City tabloids literally told me that he was under pressure to hire women and minorities, and that he was sorry, "but if I was a black woman, he would hire me in a minute."

Another less-than-,memorable interview I had was with Playboy Magazine. It was during this same time period, and the magazine was hiring women not as secretaries, but as possible lower-level executives.

I went to the interview--which you had to ne recommended for--and as I sat to wait to be called, I notice that one girl after another walked in--

But no other guys, except for me.

I was the token male, and there was absolutely no way they were going to hire me.

Another time, I went in for an interview,  into Manhattan, and the guy who was supposed to interview me said, without knowing that I was sitting right there, that he was too busy to do an interview. He told his secretary to get rid of me.

You can imagine how I felt!

I refused to leave until I was paid my transportation costs and for my wasted time, and mind you, this was for an interview that was made at least a week.or so earlier, so if the guy was too busy, he should have called me and rescheduled.

And yes, they gave me my money and I never heard from them again.

I had some other crazy interviews--one supposedly a one-on-one interview that turned into a group interview, another just a few hours after my daughter was born, with me coming straight from the hospital and not having slept, showered or changed my clothes in about 36 hours--

But I just want my son to have a fair interview, and I think we will both be satisfied, any way it goes.

So let's all keep pur fingers crossed.

And did you see the podcast I was on? Any thoughts?

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

Regardless of whether I have good news, bad news, or something in between.

Rant #3,640: A Happy Guy

I am a happy guy today.

And it starts with congestion pricing ... even though I haven't driven into Manhattan in about 10 years.

New Yorkers, you voted for Kathy "The Yokel" Hochul, so you get what you deserve ...

And this news conference she held related to President Trump and the federal government's disapproval of congestion pricing was one of the most farcical news conferences of all time.

They keep on talking about the streets, the air, the people ...

But they miss the point.

Why add an extra tax on drivers who use their cars to come into Manhattan?

It is costing businesses, it is increasing prices when these extra costs are passed down to consumers, and it is a ridiculous burden on those who must drive in and out of Manhattan.

Hochul says congestion pricing is benefitting everyone--she has even said thelat drivers are actually  "saving" money, because the toll dropped from $15 to $9.

She is a fool, way worse a governor than her predecessor, Andrew Cuomo ever was, but we voted for her, and this is what we got.

An idiot.

I just know that if my father was alive today and still driving a cab--he did it for more than 50 years before being forced to retire because of hearing loss--he would be applauding the President's decision.

Since passengers have to cough up more money for the tax, don't you think that they would try to balance things out by tipping drivers less?

My father lived on those tips, so he would absolutely not have been in favor of this plan--

And even though it does not directly impact me as a driver, I am happy that the tax has been revoked, in my father's memory.

And more good stuff ...

My son has a job interview on Friday afternoon.

He has had a couple of job interviews since he has been looking for work, and maybe this one will click.

Let's see what happens.

He was directed to the job by--

Who else but a fellow Rochdale Village alumnus, a lady who was a good friend of my sister when we were kids growing up there in the 1960s and early 1970s 

Again, we would not have known about this job opening without the help of this lady, who saw my posts on Facebook and thought she could help us out.

Whether it works out or doesn't, thanks to this lady for her help.

And once again, once a Rochdalean, always a Rochdalean.

For those of you who didn't grow up there, we were the first wave of residents who moved in there during the first years of the massive 20-building housing development in South Jamaica, Queens, during 1963 to 1965 or so.

We saw the apartment buildings literally rising from the ground from the wood frames, and it really sticks with you when you are a little kid, and the friends we made there are often life-long, because we all grew up in the same circumstances.

There is more to it than that, but let's just say Rochdale blood runs thick, 60 years after the fact.

We do watch out for each other, and Facebook helped us to reconnect.

I don't want to get my hopes up too high--my son has had other interviews that have led nowhere--but maybe this one is special, due to the circumstances.

Let's see what happens.

I will let you know.

We need some good news in my neck of the woods, and maybe this is the tonic that we need.

This was supposed to be a slow week for my son on the job front, but all you need is one bite--

Let's see if he can actually catch that fish.

And did I mention that the podcast I was on at the end of last year is finally available?

You can access it today after 12 noon at this address:

https://youtu.be/lXrZitI3EAM?si=ukEy82BSgcwOtmdw

WOW!!!

I finally have some positive news to report, and I can't tell you how good I feel about that!

Rant #3,639: Searchin'

I went to a local bagel store yesterday morning, still searching for the best bagel I can find in my area.

This place came highly recommended, so I decided that since Tuesday was supposedly going to be a light day--certainly less hectic and stomach churning than Monday was--I might as well go to this place, and see if it was any good.

I got there, and I was served pretty quickly, and this place was a little cheaper than the one I went to a couple of days ago, the one where I was completely turned off by their bagels.

So I made my order, paid my money, and came home.

One of the ways I determine if a bagel is any good by cutting them when they are fresh, and that is just what I did.

These were certainly netter than the previous bagels I had.

They are kettle-cooked, as you can readily tell by the soft top and the hard bottom.

But they didn't seem to be cooked through and through, as the middle was pretty doughy, not as bad as the bagels from the other place, but still a bit puffy.

I made a sandwich using one of the halved bagels, and yes, it was pretty good, better than the other bagels by a mile--

But still a little bit doughy.

A bagel place in my old neighborhood has better bagels than what I have encountered in my new environs, and I might just go back there the next time I want a good bagel--or a bialy, for that matter--but I wouldn't cross off this latest place from my list.

The bagels were good, a bit doughy, but did I mention that there were actually honest-to-goodness holes in these bagels?

Much unlike the others I tried, which were hole-less and were more like rolls than bagels.

As I said before, since the ethnicity is not there anymore in bagels--and pizza, for that matter--these delicacies simply don't taste like they used to.

They aren't bad, you won't be poisoned if you eat them, but these comfort foods just don't taste the same as they once did.

And no, my taste buds haven't changed with age ... I know a great bagel when I bite into one.

So, the search for the best bagel i can find remains open, and if I have to go back to the old neighborhood to get what I want, so be it.

And that's the "hole" story ... with, I am sure, more to come.

Rant #3,638: Pay the Piper

Yesterday, we had our taxes done, and to add insult to injury--

Well, let's just say we got destroyed.

We don't own anything.

We have no tax write-offs, other than some business expenses I can claim for my work.

We have no charitable donations.

We have nothing, so we have to pay.

It doesn't seem fair, but there isn't very much we can do about it, other than to.pay the piper.

And the piper is a bit richer now, because we paid for it all in one fell swoop.

So on President's Day, we paid a lot of dead presidents to both the federal government and to the state.

There has to be a better way ... 

But since I don't know of a better way, please read the next chapter of my novel.

And you can do it tax-free!

19

He arrived home after the walk, and his mother was sitting at the kitchen table, which had papers all around on it, work that Mrs. Panim was doing when her son arrived.

She pushed everything aside when he came in the door.

“Son, please sit down here. I need to talk to you,” she said.

Abraham Lincoln Panim took a seat.

“What’s up mom?” he asked her.

“Have you given any thought to what you are going to do with your life?” she asked him. “Mrs. Stottle isn’t around anymore, and while I am at work, all that you do is putter around the house. You don’t really do much until the evening, when you take your walk.”

“I have given it some thought, but I really don’t know,” he replied. “Who is going to have me with my rat face?”

“Well, for now, I think I might have something for you,” she replied. “I pulled a couple of strings, and I think I have a job for you—right in my school.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim stopped right in his tracks. “In your school? What could I possibly do in your school?”

“You can substitute teach in my school,” she said. “Look, it could be a good job for you, get your confidence up, put you in front of people and the rest of the world.”

“But subbing? Mom—“

“It is steady work, you can work five days a week, make some money, maybe eventually get your teaching credentials and become a regular teacher. I think it might be a good thing for you.

“But mom, with my rat face—“

“The kids won’t know and won’t care. And you can wear the scarf if you like, no kid is going to tell a teacher what to wear.”

“But being a sub—“

“Look, we are in dire need of substitute teachers. I thought you would be a good fit. You are young, out of work with no job … you can pick up the curriculum pretty well, and I am sure the kids will like you once they get to know you.”

“But mom—“

“Look, Abraham Lincoln Panim. I pulled a lot of strings to get you this opportunity. It is the best I can do. But if you don’t want it—“

Abraham Lincoln Panim hesitated. “Well … when do I start?” he asked.

“You can begin on Monday. I have classes that desperately need a sub, someone like you. It might be a job, but it might also be fun.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim nodded in agreement, but he thought that somehow, this job would be anything but what his mother said it would be.

Mrs. Panim and her son arrived at school on Monday, and both went to the main office, which was a beehive of activity, with people moving about, doing their jobs as the school week was ready to begin.

“Attention, everyone,” Mrs. Panim said. “I want you to meet ‘Mr. Abraham.’ He is going to be doing some subbing at the school, so I want you to get to know him.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim, tightened up on his scarf, which was already pulled tightly around his face. He did not know that he was going to be “Mr. Abraham,” and not be introduced as the principal’s son.

Mrs. Panim riffled through some papers on the desk in the main office.

A woman came up to Mrs. Panim, and handed her some additional papers.

“Sol is out again. He just can’t kick that cough,” the woman said as she handed the papers to Mrs. Panim. “He such a great teacher, I hope he won’t be out too long.”

Mrs. Panim looked at the papers. “Oh, I see Mr. Praeger is going to be out today. Yes, I remember, he came in with a terrible cough the other day, and I figured he had a really bad cold.”

She then addressed her son. ‘Mr. Abraham,’ that is the class that you are going to be substitute teaching for today and as long as Mr. Praeger is out.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim took a big gulp, not at first realizing that his mother was addressing him as “Mr. Abraham.”

“OK, where do I have to go and what do I have to do?” he said as he pulled his scarf even tighter to his face.

As ‘Mr. Abraham’ and his mother left the main office, a few teachers had been checking their mail, and one male teacher turned around to another and said, in a hushed tone, “So this kid is taking over for Praeger … nobody really takes over for Praeger, you know. We’ll make this kid feel sooooo welcome here.”

The two laughed and continued to look through their mail.

“Just follow the substitute teacher instructions that are in the upper draw of his desk, and don’t forget to take attendance,” Mrs. Panim told her son as they walked to the room together. “Remember, there will be a couple of students who will think that today is a holiday because their regular teacher is out. Let them know that you are their teacher for now, and that they should pay attention.”

They climbed up the staircase together, and arrived at room 222. As they opened the door, students were milling about in the room as they entered.

“Hi, Mrs. Panim,” said a girl who was sitting in the front row near the door.

“Hello, Melissa,” Mrs. Panim replied. “How is your brother doing?”

“Oh, he is doing fine. He is out of school now, and he is looking for work. Maybe he can work here?”

Mrs. Panim did not answer as she walked to the front of the class with her son in tow. She cleared her throat and everyone stopped what they were doing.

“Class, Mr. Praeger is out today. He might be out for a day or two, and while he is out, I want you to give Mr. Pa … err … ‘Mr. Abraham’ … all the respect and attention that he deserves as your teacher.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim was still not comfortable being called “Mr. Abraham,’ and while he was still pretty nervous, he figured that it was better off that his mother did not want the class to know that he was her son, or at least related to him.

He would have liked to have been called “Mr. Panim,” another name that he had never heard before, but he understood why it was better being known as “Mr. Abraham,” in the school at this moment.

He moved to a spot behind the desk as Mrs. Panim was exiting the room.

“Remember students, please give Mr. Abraham your utmost respect,” she said, the door closing behind her as the class said in unison, “Yes, Mrs. Panim.”

As the door closed, all the students in the class were sitting in their seats, but within a few seconds, all the students got up and began to mingle like they did before Mrs. Panim and Abraham Lincoln Panim entered the classroom.

Abraham Lincoln Panim was too busy to notice. He nervously ruffled some papers as he looked for the class roll, and then he turned around, wrote his name “Mr. Abraham” on the blackboard, and he located the class roll.

“OK, class, I have to take the class roll. Is Michael Anton here?”

Before Michael Anton could answer, Melissa stood up from her desk.

“Don’t tell him anything,” she blurted out. “He is only a sub.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim heard this, and he said, “Listen, the faster I get this done, the faster I can get on with the lesson for the day … Mr. Praeger left some things here that I need to do with you.”

“I’m Michael Anton,” a boy in the back of the room said, and as Abraham Lincoln Panim read down the roll, some students said they were here, others just ignored him.

“Look, if you are here, and I mark you absent, you know that the office is going to check you out and find out where you were when you were supposed to be in class, so you might as well answer that you are here.”

Some students who didn’t answer before when their names were called finally told Abraham Lincoln Panim that they were, in fact, in the class, while others simply decided not too, with the continued urging of Melissa.

“Don’t tell him anything. He is just a sub and we will never see him again,” she continued to tell the class.

Abraham Lincoln Panim remembered that his mother, while entering the class, called this girl “Melissa,” so he knew she was present even though she never told him that she was there. He just looked up the name “Melissa” and put a check mark by her name. Others he knew he missed, but after asking them to tell them they were there, if they refused, that was going to be their problem.

Abraham Lincoln Panim put away the roll book in the desk, and then he became “Mr. Abraham” as he addressed the class.

“OK, I think I have everyone. Today, Mr. Praeger wanted us to start off with a spelling test, so let’s get that out of the way.”

The class let out a collective groan, but most of the students finally sat down and took out their composition books to take the test.

“OK, the way that Mr. Praeger does it is that he asks you to spell the word, and if you can also put the word into a proper sentence, you get a bonus, so the first word is ‘discover.’”

Most of the class started to write down the word in their books, and tried to use it in a sentence.

Melissa raised her hand. Abraham Lincoln Panim turned toward her.

“Yes, your name is Melissa, right?”

“Mr. Abraham, why do you wear that scarf around your face so tight like that?”

Abraham Lincoln Panim stumbled over the words to answer her as quickly as he could.

“Well, you see, Mr. Praeger is sick, and some of his germs might be all over the material he left for me to do with you, so I am just taking an extra precaution. I don’t want to get sick … and then you would have a sub for the sub!”

The class laughed, and Melissa, evidently satisfied with his answer, started to write in her composition book.

Abraham Lincoln Panim went through the words in the test after that, one after another, and he then collected all of the students’ test sheets.

The morning of Abraham Lincoln Panim’s first day as “Mr. Lincoln,” the substitute teacher, went pretty well after that, with lesson after lesson completed.

It went so well that when the lunch bell rang, Abraham Lincoln Panim did not know that so much time had passed as the students got up from their desks and exited the room.

As Abraham Lincoln Panim sat at his desk and the students exited the room, he looked out at the empty room, breathed a sigh of relief, and took out his own lunch from a big pocket in his jacket.

“Maybe this won’t be so bad after all,” he thought to himself, as he also left the room and went to the teacher’s room, which was right down the hall from the classroom.

He entered, and a group of teachers were chatting as he came into the room.

“Hi, my name is ‘Abraham’ and I just took over Mr. Praeger’s class while he is out sick,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said as he looked for a place to sit down and eat his lunch.

Most of the teachers completely ignored him, continuing their chatting without taking a breath.

Abraham Lincoln Panim sat down on a couch in the room where he could find some space, took out his lunch, and read over a few papers for his class.

One teacher, a short, stubby looking man with thick glasses, broke away from the chirping teachers and sat down next to “Mr. Abraham.”

“You are new to the school, aren’t you?” asked the teacher. “My name is Mr. Sedall, Joe, and I hear that you are taking over Praeger’s class while he is out.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Abraham Lincoln Panim, as he extended his hand to shake Mr. Sedall’s hand, but the teacher never extended his hand to him. “Mr. Abraham” drew his hand back as quickly as he had extended it.

“What’s your background?” Mr. Sedall asked Abraham Lincoln Panim as “Mr. Abraham” withdrew his hand in response to Mr. Sedall.

“Well, I graduated—“

“You know that Praeger, even if he is an old coot, is really a great teacher, you know.”

“Yes, I have heard that he is a fine teacher. But let me tell you about—“

“He has been here for such a long time, and I know that he has probably gotten pneumonia again. He gets it every so often, and we love Sol as a teacher here.”

“Yes, I have heard that. But let me answer—“

“Well, you are young, and I know you are looking for a teaching job, but just let’s get things straight,” Mr. Sedall firmly stated. “That is Praeger’s job. You are just a sub, nothing but a sub. That is not really your class.”

“I never said it was,” said Abraham Lincoln Panim, pulling up his scarf as he was getting a bit nervous about what was happening.

Mr. Sedall smiled as he got up from the couch.

“So, you are just going to be here for a little while, and let’s be on the same page, OK?”

“I don’t know about the future, but right now, I am teaching these students—“

“You are nothing but a sub,” Mr. Sedall repeated, through his smile and clenched teeth. “And I have one more question to ask you.

“What is with that scarf over your mouth? What gives with that?”

Abraham Lincoln Panim heard the chatting teachers start to laugh. He got up, and left the room, went back to the classroom, and finished his lunch there.

He vowed never to tell his mother about what had happened in the teacher’s room. “I will take care of it myself,” he thought.

Rant #3,637: School's Out

I present you with my last week's report card:

• My Son's Job Search

After jumping through hoops to find out this information, we found out that the organization that we visited a few weeks ago for job help cannot help us at all.

They evidently sent out two emails--to the wrong address--alerting us to this, which we never received.

And when we were directed to a related organization in our county--one which I called a specific person several.times during the past few weeks--I called again ... I never spoke to the person I called, but someone else there said they can't help my son.

I spent between six and seven hours on Friday calling a list of places "that hire handicapped workers" that we received through another organization.

About a third of the companies on the list do not have a Long Island or even a Metropolitan area presence--as I told the counselor who gave us the list when he gave it to us--and the others aren't hiring or don't think, or don't know, if they are hiring or aren't hiring right now.

And in the current "send me your tesume" environment, I filled out so many applications online for jobs that probably don't exist that the power on my phone went into the single digits by the end of the day.

We have an appointment next week with another organization that is supposedly designed to help people like my son, but he has been part of that organization for years, and they have never helped him, but his information is with Nassau County, not Suffolk, so he has to begin all over again with them.

As I was copying down all the information his new counselor told me over the phone--she called while I was in a bagel shop--she kept on telling me that all.of the information was in a letter, and when I called back because she never told me the time of our appointment, she raised her voice to me, saying all the information was in the letter.

As of today, I am still waiting for that letter.

GRADE: F

• My Own Health

Even though I have an apppintment.in June, I made another one--the second since my prostate procedure in November--because I am still having after effects from that procedure.

The doctor asked what the trouble was, I told him, and he said to me, "From a medical standpoint, you are OK, and I know how frustrated you are, but honestly, there is nothing i can do about [the other symptoms]."

He reiterated thst my prostate was not cancerous, but said it is three times larger than it should be.

He then said that to try to reduce the size, he was prescribing pills for me to take every day, which would reduce the size and thus, the symptoms.

I took several.tests, including an MRI, before I had the procedure, and they all came up negative for cancer.

If the doctor knew from these tests thst I simply had an enlarged prostate and not cancer, why didn't he prescribe the medication rather than have me go through a biopsy, and the resultant troubles I am having?

He knew my family history..My father did not have cancer, either, but in those days, they didn't have the type of pills I was given, so he was operated on for ... an enlarged prostate.

That is how it was done back then, but now, one can bypass any after effects with pills.

Why was I never given this option?

Was my doctor so hell-bent on finding cancer that he put me through a procedure that I didn't need?

GRADE: F-

• My Relationship With My Daughter

?????????????????

You know as much as I do about her, and this is after we spoke a few weeks ago-after waiting for her to contact me an additional two weeks--and she said she would "call me back."

She hasn't.

GRADE: INCOMPLETE, and I am being nice about it by describing it this way.

And I hope you had a happy Valentine's Day and have a great President's Day!

Rant #3,636: I Can't Take It

Looking for a job is a full-time job itself.

And it is even more so when you are searching for a job for someone who is mentally disabled.

I knew this--been there, done that--but it is even worse now.

Case in point--

My son and I went to a county job site, the same one I went to when I lost my own job more than five years ago.

We met with a counselor, and to sum it all up, the burden is totally on us.

Everything is done online now, and we had to sign up with a New York State job program, which took me about an hour and a half to do, and I am still not sure if I did it correctly.

The site kept on going out on us, so I had to redo the information several times.

And when I went to a job search and put in the type of job we are looking for and the area we are looking at, many jobs came up, but most were for upstate New York or in New York City, or so far out on Long Island that we would have to move to make it worth our while.

The counselor at this place also gave us a sheet with about two dozen companies that supposedly hire handicapped workers.

Numerous problems here, among them that we already tried several of these places--both in-person and online--and they are not hiring.

Others on this list might be in New York State, but they are not anywhere near us on Long Island--and that includes a supermarket chain, a law firm, and some others that have absolutely no Long Island presence.

And also, I hate to do this, but there are disabled, and there are disabled.

You have those who are smart as anyone, but for one reason or another, they are considered to be handicapped, often due to a birth defect or some other action, like car accidents.

They are often in wheel chairs, but their only real handicap is that they can't move around with the ease that you and I can.

Then you have those with mental disabilities, and that is a while new ballgame.

My son is as physically fit as can be, but he cannot take a test, he can't easily verbalize his thoughts, and while he is smart, it is not the "smart" that we are used to, more outside the box smart than anything else.

There are things he simply cannot do, but the state does not differentiate between the physically handicapped and the mentally handicapped--

And that is a major problem.

In the past, my son and I went to numerous job fairs, and even at these events, which are totally geared to the handicapped, the preponderence of companies appearing at these events are looking for physically handicapped workers.

So my son is sunk before he even tries to swim.

And to add insult to injury yesterday, we found out that the organization we went to a few weeks back that we thought never got hack to us, actually did try to get back to us--

But they sent emails to us at the wrong email address.

And the counselor at the place we went to yesterday could not open these emails, even though he was able to access the correspondence, because all these organizations are in bed with each other.

And yes, I alerted this counselor about our mishaps, and he has yet to get back to me.

So today, I will call the companies on the list, and see if I can make any headway with any of them.

I doubt it, because believe it or not, one of the companies on the list actually had its name misspelled on the sheet we were given, which I brought up to the counselor.

But this is New York State ...

Who do you trust?

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

But here is my son's resume again, with the top removed for security reasons.

If you know of anything, please contact me here at the Blog or on Facebook.

Please.

WORK EXPERIENCE:

Maintenance Worker (Part-Time)

Sunrise Credit Services, Melville, New York

September 2021-present (rehired)

Member of company’s support team, performing a variety of duties including some light maintenance work.

Store Associate (Part-Time)

HomeGoods, Sunrise Mall, Massapequa, New York

November 2020-March 2022

Performed a number of duties as part of the store’s staff, including some light maintenance duties and making sure shopping carts were available to customers.

Clerk (Part-Time)

Sunrise Credit Services, Farmingdale, New York

April 2019 to March 2020 (on furlough due to coronavirus)

Member of the company’s support staff, performing a variety of duties including computer data entry.

Store Associate (Part-Time)

Home Depot, Copiague, New York

June 2015 to December 2018

Part of the Ken’s Krew employment program, working as parking lot attendant to make sure carts are available to customers.

OTHER POSITIONS:

Arcade Specialist, Kenwal Day Camp, Melville, New York, Summer 2013 and Summer 2014

Volunteer Counselor, Massapequa School District Summer Recreation, Summer 2011 and Summer 2012

EDUCATIONAL EXPERIENCE:

Student, Massapequa High School/Ames Campus, Massapequa, New York

September 2010 to June 2014

Graduated in June 2014 with Special Education Certificate.

ACTIVITIES:

2012-present PAL Special Needs Athletic Programs, Bowling and Basketball, New York

REFERENCES:

Available upon request.

Rant #3,635: The Twist

Chubby Checker finally gets a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame nomination.

What took so long?

All dance music owes a debt to Ernest Evans, and he should have been enshrined decades ago.

But no Monkees, no Lesley Gore, no Turtles, no Tommy James and the Shondells, no Michael Nesmith, and no Paul Revere and the Raiders.

But there is Mana ... who is this?

 I can't argue with Billy Idol, but Mana?

And did the nominating committee forget that one of Billy Idol's biggest hits was "Mony, Mony" ...

Written by Tommy James, who had a huge hit with the song himself?

In other words, it's the same old, insane old at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, where the cart is ALWAYS put before the horse, proven again this year by the Tommy Janes snub.

This has happened before, when Joan Jett and the Blackhearts somehow got in ...

And one of their biggest hits was--

"Crimson and Clover" which was written by ...

Tommy James, who, again, had had a huge hit with the song himself.

Yes, the place is a joke that keeps on giving.

And what about Lesley Gore?

She checks off every box in the list, including being the muse thst allowed Quincy Jones to bring his talent to the pop world, and let's be honest about it ...

Without Gore, there is no Joan Jett in this supposedly hallowed Hall.

Nesmith is an interesting omission. His contributions to melding country, pop and rock are beyond measure, and as a video pioneer, he is without a peer--

But he was a Monkee--

And he, and they, will NEVER get in, nor will the others I mentioned.

Instead, we have Mana.

Yes, the same old, same old ... the acts that did the roadwork for those who followed are simply forgotten--

But the great thing is that fans don't forget so easily.

Let's hope thst Chubby Checker is not just nominated, but actually gets in.

That will be a sign of hope, something that Mana just doesn't produce.

Rant #3,634: The Name Game

Here is a story that got short shift from the media, but I find it to be an interesting story, one that you might not be aware of.

On Feb. 10, Secretary of Defense Pete Hegseth renamed Fort Liberty, N.C., to its former name,  returning the base to what it was known as for generations, Fort Bragg. 

In 2023, the name Fort Bragg was replaced by Fort Liberty, in a name-change sweep of several bases which was recommended by a Congressional commission targeting base names that had honored Confederate officers and Soldiers. 

The name “Bragg” honored Civil War Confederate Gen. Braxton Bragg. Confederate names were established on some Army bases in the buildup to and during World War I, as part of an effort to court support from local populations in the South, part of a reconciliation effort with those states which had supported the Confederacy during the Civil War.  

In recent times, these names were considered to be repugnant, honoring those who supported the Confederacy and all elements of that movement that led to the Civil War, including slavery. 

Fort Bragg was named after a Confederate general, but the new Bragg is named after a World War II hero, Pfc. Roland L. Bragg.

Both men have the same last name, but one is linked to the Civil War, and all the elements of the Confederacy, including slavery, while the other Bragg was a World War II hero who earned a Purple Heart.

A total of nine Army bases with Conderacy-related names were renamed in 2023, but President Trump has stated that he wants to bring back the previous names, and is using  kind of an end-around in doing this.

There is no word if the other bases--including forts which had formerly gone under the Lee and Bragg names, but had their names changed two years ago--will also be undergoing a reversion to their former names 

I think that this is pretty interesting, and honestly, a pretty clever way for the Trump Administration to revert to the former names.

Sure, Fort "Bragg" was originally named after a member of the Confederacy, but now, the Bragg name can live on, representing a true, honest-to- goodness war hero.

How about Hood and Lee? Can legitimate counterparts be found to put these names back in place?

One interesting side note is that while the military renamed Fort Lee in Virginia because of its link to Confederate Gen. Robert E. Lee, the actual city of Fort Lee never changed its name, keeping Fort Lee while the base changed to Fort Gregg-Adams.

Yes, it truly is a real "name game," but it doesn't involve names like "Nick" or even "Chuck."

A name carries a lot of value.

Change is good, I guess, even when the change reverts back to a previous name.

Now, what about Fort Courage?

You'd have to ask F Troop and the Hikawis about that.

Rant #3,633: Better Things

 

About the so-called "Big Game" ...

Now they have a "dancer" who somehow "sneaks in" a pro-terrorist banner into the proceedings.

And they sing the black "national anthem" before the game. 

What can you expect from a game thst has little to nothing to do with sports?

Racist, anti-semitic ... sorry, this is not a sporting event, this is a podium for anti-social behavior.

Utter nonsense, a "game" promoting divisiveness, and nothing more.

And the resultant looting and other ridiculous behavior by so-called fans ... the media reports on all of it liken these incidents as part of the "fun"--

Please.

And, oh, I forgot, betting.

Even before betting was legalized, it seemed that everyone had some skin in the game, although probably 90 percent of the people watching the game didn't really care about it as a football game, more worried about their boxes versus who won or who lost.

Baseball is our national pastime, while football is our national obsession--

And there is a clear difference.

Baseball is a game that stirs passion.

Football is a game thst gives people reason to place bets, and most people really don't care about the score; they care about the spread.

And it all comes to the fore with the Super Bowl, where this obsession is magnified 1,000,000-fold.

What did I do during the Big Game?

I watched some silent Our Gang shorts, and I went to bed early, because I had a very early appointment to get some things done with my car.

So I didn't really miss much, did I?

No, I didn't.

I didn't miss the game, which I don't give a hoot about ...

I didn't miss the halftime show, which features trash performers and their garbage mumusic.l

And I certainly did not miss the commercials --

Why does everyone suddenly love commercials when it has to do with this game?

No, I kept myself entertained, got some much-needed sleep, and was very satisfied.

I am afraid our culture has sunk to the lowest levels, and it is all encapsulated in the Super Bowl, and everything revolving around it.

Trash culture?

Not my thing.

How about you?

And now, it is on to baseball!

And onto other things which are much more important to me.

Football?

Totally deflated.

Rant #3,632: Hole In My Heart

Snow.

We received about three inches of the white stuff, starting on Saturday night and moving into early Sunday morning.

It took no time to clean my car off.

I miss my old house more than you can imagine, but the one thing I will never miss is cleaning the walk in front of the house.

Where we are now, the maintenance people clean the walks, so I don't have to worry about that anymore.

I do miss the house, though ...

And another thing that I miss is a bagel.

A real, honest to goodness bagel, light on the stomach but crispy on the bottom, with a hole in the middle 

There are plenty of bagel shops on Long Island, but many call their products bagels, but they aren't.

They are more like rolls, doughy inside, very chewy, and without the hole in the center.

Like what happened with pizza, once the ethnicity went out of it, these delicacies never were the same again.

We finally found a really good pizza place in our relatively new environs--not as good as New York City pizza but about the best you can find out here--and now begins the search for the best bagel I can find.

When I was laid up in my bed, I swore that when I was better, I would go to a local bagel shop that I had gone to on occasion in the past.

They made the best rye bread bagel I had ever had, so I figured that 40 years wouldn't change things too much 

But, based on my experience, I guess you can't go home anymore.

Finally, I went to this shop, and the inside had changed, and unfortunately, I later found out that the bagels--amd bialys-- had changed too.

The bagels were chewy, more like a roll than a bagel.

And where was the hole? Nowhere to be found 

I put up my search for the best bagels in the area on a local message board, and I received a myriad of replies.

Most of the replies directed me to a bagel shop nearby, while the second most posts directed me to my old neighborhood when we lived in that house, a place i know all too well--and yes, their bagels are very good.

One respondent even directed me to the very bagel shop that I had visited, and I told this person that I was disappointed and wouldn't go back there 

Still another one said, "You are doomed, because there is no good food on Long Island " which I don't believe at all.

So, I will be visiting the one thst several respondents suggested, in my new neighborhood.

My appetite was further whetted by the fact that I went on the shop's website, and it said they make "Brooklyn-style" bagels that are "kettle cooked," which is the proper way to make bagels.

I will let you know how it goes ...

And with more snow slated fir later in the week, I had better go soon.

Rant #3,631: Life In a Northern Town

I have an extremely busy day today.

Not only do I have to take my son back and forth to work--remember, he is still "somewhat" employed, for a big four hours a week--but I have an afternoon conference to cover for my own work.

This type of conference kills my day, and kills a good chunk of the next day too.

And we are supposedly going to get some snow/sleet/rain today, so the whole day is a bit of a mess for me--

And the mess might stretch into Friday.

That being said, unless I can get this thing done today, I will have to skip my Friday Rant; I simply won't have the time to do one.

So to round out today's brief Rant, I figured I would post another chapter of my novel.

I hope you are enjoying these posts--it is a slow drip, but please, just go with it as it is.

So unless there is a miracle, this will be my final post of the week.

And as I always say--

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

18

Abraham Lincoln Panim thought about his future quite a bit during the next several weeks. He also went for walks at night, every night, in hopes of meeting up with the girl he had met running during the evening.

He went on these walks many times without his mother, who was busy with school affairs for a few weeks and came home late and exhausted.

And since he was hoping to meet the girl who was running each night, he was kind of happy that his mother was too busy with schoolwork to accompany him. He was a little embarrassed, and he didn’t want his mother to know.

Abraham Lincoln Panim met with the girl just about every night for the next few weeks or so, as she ran every night, and he could pretty much figure out when she would stop for a rest, at the same place and time each and every night.

“How are you doing tonight?” he asked her as she took her regular break during one of those nights.

“I am doing fine,” she replied. “How are you doing?”

“I am OK,” he replied. “It seems to be a little cool outside tonight, and it looks like we are getting a lot of clouds up in the sky. Maybe we are going to get rain.”

“I think we are going to get rain too. I can’t see them, but my bones ache a little bit more when I am running when the weather is like it is, and my pal here”—pointing to her dog—“he kind of gets a little more steady when he is running with me. He doesn’t want me to stumble and fall.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim nodded approval, even though he realized that the girl could not see him.

“Well, look, since I think it is going to rain, I better get moving,” the girl said to Abraham Lincoln Panim. “I guess I will see you around.”

As she got up and started to run, Abraham Lincoln Panim remembered that he had wanted to ask her name, but as she ran away, he decided to put off the formal introduction for another night, something he had done since he met her. He had never had the nerve to ask her name, and she never asked him for his name.

As he got up from the bench, he once again saw what he thought was an older woman sitting a few benches down from him. When he started to walk home, he turned to see the woman again, but once again, she was not there. He didn’t think much of it, and went home.

As for the girl, he thought, “Another night won’t matter much,” he thought, and he headed home in the darkness as raindrops began to fall from the moonlit sky.

Rant #3,630: The Hardest Part

Nothing much to report about my son's job status.

I contacted Access VR, one of the organizations which supposedly helps people like my son, as I was told to call them yesterday to find out if his paperwork was processed.

He had been with them when we lived in Nassau County, but now, it's like we never were with them, as we have to re-up with them.

I called the number I was given, and it is a fax number.

I did get another number later and called them again, but all I could do was leave a message.

Par for the course.

Me, I went out to the supermarket, just to keep busy.

I try not to sit in front of the TV, and there isn't much on, anyway.

This Sunday is Super Bowl Sunday, and sorry, I won't be watching.

I have absolutely no interest, and really, the only thing that the game means to me is that we are one day closer to baseball season.

So don't ask me about who I want to win, because I really don't care--and I believe that the reason most people care is due to betting on the game--does anyone even really care who wins, from a sports standpoint only?

Probably some, but let's be honest about it, most people are more worried about their boxes than anything else.

Now, what I am going to while away the time is another matter.

I will probably cast a movie to the TV, or at least watch something--anything--other than the game.

I love TV, but after being chained to the bed for six months, I got my fill of TV, and I swore that once I got better, I wouldn't plant myself in front of the TV, a promise to myself that I have pretty much kept since I have been up and about.

Keeping my son active through his job malaise is another challenge.

Him sitting on front of the TV a good part of the day is heartbreaking, but I have to look at it as every day, we are one day closer to him getting a job.

I have to think that ... and I have to have him thinking that, too.

And that is, truly, the hardest part.

Rant #3,629: Getting Closer

I was on and off the phone all day yesterday related to my son's work situation.

He has an interview next week at one of the town's job help offices. 

Again, we live in Suffolk County, not Nassau, but this office covers our zip code--which is mainly a Nassau code--so they said they might be able to help him.

We finally received all of our tax material--in spite of 1) My son's work sending it to our old address, but somehow, the postal service sent it to our current address; 2) I had to ask my work to send it to me, they said it was coming in the mail, and then, miraculously, it was sent via email to me.

I made an appointment with the tax preparer, so in two weeks, we will do our taxes, and while I know we are going to get destroyed, at least I know when the destruction will take place.

And talking about destruction, next Monday I have to bring my car in for an oil change, and as I was told the last time I had this work done, I need brakes, so thus service will cost me a pretty penny.

And my daughter texted me, and we are supposed to speak today, so who knows what wonders that will yield?

Yes, February can't end soon enough, so I am happy that it is the shortest month, a day shorter than last year's leap year.

I need a laugh right now ...

And I got one in yesterday's mail.

For Hanukkah, my wife and son bought me eBay gift cards, with which I purchased several 45s, stuff thst I wouldn't purchase with my own money.

So yesterday, I received my next-to-last delivery, and it was actually among the first I used the gift cards on.

I don't know why it took do long to get here, but it is finally here!

"Because of Black Tooth"/"Soupy's Theme" is by Soupy Sales, of course, and I had actually ordered this many months ago, but the seller discovered that the record was cracked, so he refunded my money.

Now, with a new seller, I ordered this again, and it is just so much fun to listen to this single, 63 years after the fact.

What a fun record, and listening to it was a nice way to finish out what was a very busy day.

Listen to it below. If this record doesn't bearing back memories to those of a certain age, I don't know what will.

Heck, I will do "The Mouse" or even "The Soupy Shuffle" if my son can just find another job!

https://youtu.be/P3Cgo2inh_I?si=5T5EyIdFh2aI1nsS

Rant #3,628: Mirage

I really needed a weekend like I had this past Saturday and Sunday.

After an extremely busy week--what with conferences and taking my son around to get a new job--I was pooped by Friday.

Other than taking my son to basketball and bowling, and on Sunday to a friend, I could just relax on the weekend--

To a point.

My son continues to look for a job, and we did something a little out of the box this weekend, and we took a chance by posting a "Situation Wanted" ad in Newsday.

It is in the classified section of the Sunday newspaper.

We got NO calls from this ad. Nothing.

Please, if anyone can help him, let me know.

Quite honestly, I am rapidly running out of ideas and places to apply.

It is very disheartening. 

We have been told by several people that he has a great resume, but no one will hire him.

The organizations set up to help people like him find jobs are virtually useless, as they always have been with him.

And we have been on a couple of wild goose chases. All these do is waste time, and really, my son's time is too valuable to waste going about town for nothing.

He really needs someone to help him get his foot in the door, and since we don't know of anyone who can do this for him, it leads us to a "Situation Wanted" ad, which costs money and as of yet, didn't lead anywhere.

And then we have my daughter, who has seemingly abandoned myself, her brother, and this side of the family.

I cannot contact her via text or phone call, as she seemingly has shut her phone off, purposely because she simply wants nothing to do with me, and with us.

Heaven knows why, because I certainly don't.

She will get hers one way or the other, but to treat myself and this side of the family like she does--by making believe we don't exist--is like a kick in the pants to me, but like I said, she will get hers, somewhere down the line.

So yes, I had a nothing weekend this past Saturday and Sunday, but it really wasn't ... there is just so much to do, and so little time to do it in.

And it all picks up again today.