Rant #4,025: Keep On Pushing

As the week comes to a close, I have absolutely nothing else to report on my condition ... 

Which, perhaps, is a godsend, because I have been through a lot.

Too much, if you ask me.

I drove for the first time in more than a week yesterday, because I had to go to my allergy doctor for my monthly shots.

It was good getting into the car, but I am far from 100 percent, and probably won't be until I get the eye operation and go through the post-op situation.

Look, I have been treated poorly by the medical establishment, and I know that I am not alone, based on what I have heard from others.

Why this happens--and why it has become endemic--is beyond my comprehension, but like I said, I am not going to pull a "Mangione" about it--

I am just going to put my faith in my latest doctor to do the job.

There really is nothing more than I can say about it, other than I hope I am heathy enough to go to my daughter's wedding at the end of October.

It would be a shame if I could not be there on her special day.

I have said all I am going to have to say about this situation, at least right now.

I want to move on to something else, something a bit sad, but having nothing to do with me.

A neighborhood presence passed away the other day, and I just want to make note of it.

Living in Massapequa for more than 50 years, there are people that you meet, people that you get to know, and people who are an enigma.

The person I am going to speak about was an enigma, somebody who I did not know personally, but he made his mark on Massapequa and everyone that has lived there over the past half century.

His name was Don. I did not know his last name, but I first encountered him in high school.

He was a senior, I was new to the area and a freshman, and I passed him in the hallway of Massapequa High School several times, and, well, I just found him to be a little ...

Weird, for the lack of a better expression.

We never spoke, never had a conversation, and yes, I know you cannot judge a book by its cover, but I did with this guy.

We went our separate ways--me going on to college, grad school, marriage (twice), kids, etc.--but Don went on to other things too.

He became a real neighborhood presence, as he became "the guy with the shopping cart," walking through Massapequa collecting cans and bottles to add to his cart, which he pushed from one end of the area to the other, no matter what the weather.

Was this guy homeless, was he disturbed, what was his situation?

I have no idea, no idea to this moment, but he was "the guy with the shopping cart" for literally decades.

I had heard many stories about him and his life during those decades, and I don't know if any of them were true or not, but there were a lot of stories about him and his plight.

My father even gave him a few dollars when he used to see him in fast food places in Massapequa, and on occasion, I would give him a bag of bottles and cans to redeem.

But he plowed on, pushing his shopping cart for decades ...

And while he was doing that, everyone in Massapequa knew of him, as "the guy with the shopping cart," who would push that cart during 100-degree days and zero-degree days too, through snow, rain, and yes, Hurricane Sandy.

One of his frequent stops was the record store I regularly go to, and he was quite the character, with everyone in the record store very fond of him and bewildered with him, at the very same time.

And he continued to push that cart all over town, day after day, year after year, decade after decade.

I had heard that he was not physically well the past few years, but you would still see him pushing that cart, and I still saw him regularly pushing that cart around Massapequa when my family and I moved to nearby Farmingdale.

He was an enigma. He was a presence. He was a neighborhood fixture in his own way.

The other day, through Facebook, I heard that he passed away. A wake was held in his honor, and if I was well, I would have been there.

So Don is gone.

There will be no more pushing of his cart in Massapequa, but perhaps he is pushing that cart in a better place now.

R.I.P. Don.

In a funny way, he made his mark in the world, and it all was because he was "the guy with the shopping cart."

He made his mark by pushing that cart, and it tells us that we all must keep on pushing, whether it is a shopping cart or simply through life, and its ups and downs and all arounds.

"Keep on Pushing."

Have a great weekend, and I will speak to you again when I am up to it.

Rant #4,024: Honesty

I am seemingly in some type of black pit, not of my own making, but I am there, and I simply cannot get out.

The medical establishment that we, as a society, have to deal with is broken, and while I won't be doing a "Mangione" on this situation, I am the perfect example of why the current system doesn't work.

Yes, it has to do with Obamacare from several years ago, and also the ultra-reliance on the Internet to do everything related to health care.

You mix those two things together, and you get a powder keg of problems ready to explode, and right now, it has exploded into my face, and mainly at my right eye.

And if you have Medicare, and probably with Medicaid too, you are sunk, like you are wearing cement boots.

Doctors do not want to deal with Medicare for one reason or another, but for people like me, who have only Medicare and no other health insurance, you are sunk.

I could count the ways, but let me describe to you the latest gaffe I have experienced related to this utter nonsense, stuff that I should not have to deal with, but stuff that has been thrown on my head to clear up all by myself.

Yes, it is time for--

More medical ineptness!

I was told that my medical insurance may not cover my upcoming operation, because it is a Medicare PPO. 

Even if it is under a well-known insurance company, Medicare is garbage, so the necessary surgery might come under some financial scrutiny that it wouldn't go under if it was not Medicare based.

I only found this out because I went through the Internet-mandatory check-in, and it only listed my insurance company name without the "Medicare" attached.

Anyway, I was not happy to find this out, but the woman I spoke to over the phone related to the check-in sent me a financial aid form, which I quickly filled out, with income-related attachments, via email.

Everything seemed to be hunky-dory.

WRONG.

I received an email telling me that the financial department of the medical facility received the form and the attachments--

BUT IT WAS THE WRONG, OUTDATED FORM!!!

And to add to the mess, my place of work sent me a 1099 form for the work I did for them in 2025, but it did not have the year that it covered on the form!

Funny, the state and federal tax departments accepted the 1099 form as is, but the hospital financial department would not.

I called the financial office nearly in tears, and a woman there apologized, stating that she will alert the person who sent this to me that the wrong form was sent.

To make a longer story shorter, I had to provide further tax documentation of my income, had to fill out the new financial document, and hopefully now that it is correctly done, I will find out the result sometime soon.

But again, I am a victim of gross ineptness and incompetency.

THIS IS NOT THE WORLD I WAS BORN INTO, AND THIS IS NOT WHAT RETIREMENT IS SUPPOSED TO BE ALL ABOUT.

Sure, you can say I sound like a broken record, but what I am telling you is the God's honest truth.

If you don't have to go through this, consider yourself lucky, and I do mean, VERY lucky.

And I am sure that I am not alone in experiencing this.

Inept doctors, staffs and insurance companies are ruining the quality of life of so many people, including me, and there really isn't very much I can do about it.

I am a peon, a number, an entity that they can make money from, and that is pretty much it.

Well, I am not a peon, I am not a number, and I am not an entity that they can make money from.

And as long as I keep my head straight, which is becoming more difficult to do lately, I will survive.

But I should not have to deal with such ineptness, no way, no how.

I don't even know how to end this Rant entry, because I know that I am far from done in dealing with these entities.

But let's just end it by saying that ...

Honesty is the best policy, and if I can alert just one person to be prepared for this nonsense, I think I have done my job.

Speak to you soon.

(P.S.: After making many calls yesterday, I reported the doctor and her surgical coordinator to the medical group they work for, and again, I had to use the term "getting a lawyer" to have them move on my complaints.

Late in the afternoon, the doctor actually called me on the phone from her car, and she defended herself in every way, which, of course, demonstrates her guilt more than anything I could ever do.

I also later found out that the doctor never forwarded information about my case to the new doctor who is actually handling the surgery, and that is why the new doctor told my wife and I that he didn't know why we were there when we went to his office last week.

Getting back to my former doctor ...

To end this discussion, as she was driving in her car, she said that she would look into firing her surgical coordinator for not providing her with the proper information about me ...

And the doctor yelled at me on the phone, and I ended up hanging up on her after she said she would look into firing the surgical coordinator.

Sorry, I don't like to see people lose their jobs, but in this case, putting me in such a negative physical position, it was warranted.

I am a quiet, shy guy, but if you get me started, you are going to get it right between the eyes.

All I ask is that people open up their ears and listen to what I have to say.

If they don't, they are going to get it, and going to get it the right way.

Incompetence needs to be addressed, and the moral of the story is that if something is not right --

OPEN UP YOUR MOUTH AND TELL PEOPLE THAT WHAT IS HAPPENING ISN'T RIGHT!!!

Period.)

Rant #4,023: Shake Hands and Walk Away Cryin'

My newest eye operation appointment is October 13.

The first eye doctor who tried to perform the surgery completely failed me in every way imaginable, and now I have to wait a couple of weeks for the operation to, hopefully this time, be completed.

The surgery is one thing, the aftermath is another.

I am going to have to lay prone on my stomach for at least a week while the bubble inserted into my eye sets into place and begins the process of healing the eye.

I can get up for periodic breaks, like going to the bathroom, but for at least a week, and maybe more, I have to lay like this so the bubble can do its work.

And there are no guarantees that it will improve the situation.

And did I tell you that there is a problem with my health insurance related to this newest surgery? 

I have been trying to work it out using one and a quarter eye, but funny how people double-talk you even when it comes to a medical situation.

I even had to put in for financial aid related to the surgery, and there are no guarantees that I will get it.

Thanks, Medicare, for adding another brick to my already very heavy load.

And all of this is fermenting with my daughter's wedding come up on October 31, Halloween.

I really would like to attend my daughter's wedding.

It is going to be a different kind of wedding, one of complete and total narcissism, one where I am just another guest, even though I am the father of the bride.

I wanted to make a speech, but my daughter doesn't want me to.

I wanted to give her away, but my daughter doesn't want me to.

I wanted to have a father/daughter dance, but my daughter doesn't want me to.

She dares to be different--yes, the wedding has a Halloween theme--and while I do believe that my daughter is standing on ceremony to be oh so different, even though the wedding is on its face, a pretty traditional one, I have begrudgingly agreed to what she wants to do, because I really don't have a choice in the matter.

The worst thing about it is that I might not be able to attend anyway, and I blame that on the original doctor's complete and utter disregard for what I told her about myself and anesthesia.

I might be one in a million, but my malady is itself very rare, and she and her associates should have passed me off to someone else immediately when I told them what I did.

Instead, they started the process, found that I was correct in what I told them, and had to stop the surgery with only part of it completed.

If they would have immediately passed this on to a more competent doctor, I might not be in the situation I am in now, but again, it was just another day at the office for the doctor.

She even told me they do "hundreds" of these operations a day ...

But I guess that didn't include mine.

So now I am firmly stuck in a predicament not of my own making, and as usual, it has to do with complete and utter incompetence.

They will get what they deserve at a later date, but right now, I just have to do as well as I can with what I physically have at my disposal.

It is tough to go on the computer to type something like this Rant out, but I was already on the computer doing some work--I cannot stop that--so I figured I would kill two birds with one stone and type out a brand new Rant for you.

But who knows when I will be back here, probably intermittently leading up to the surgery, and then after the surgery ...

Who knows. 

I have to heal, physically, mentally and emotionally, but with everything dumped on me like it has been, it isn't going to be too easy.

So while I am upset, while I am a bit depressed, while I don't know where I stand right now or in the immediate future, I can tell you one thing:

I am not giving up hope, not at all.

There is gold at the end of my distorted rainbow, and I am going to make the best of whatever this circumstance leads to.

My family comes first, and without a good family, I could not believe in myself as much as I do.

I also can laugh at myself, and a good sense of humor does, in fact, help me deal with this inane situation.

But I will tell you another thing:

This cannot possibly be retirement, it just can't be what retirement is all about.

While others bask in the glow of finishing their careers, I can't do that.

If nothing else, this latest episode proves that, once and for all.

So don't even try to dispute what I have said since day one of this situation I am in:

Retirement, at least for me, is not retirement at all.

It is a dreadful purgatory.

Some people are born to suffer, and I am proving each and every day that I am one of those people.

I don't know why things are the way they are, but I will, somehow get through this--

And move on to the next phase of my dreadful purgatory of supposed retirement.

What else can I possibly do?

Is that all there is?

Is there something else on the other side of the door?

Maybe you can answer that, but right now ...

I have nothing else to say on this matter, other than--

"May you live as long as you want, and never want as long as you live."

Rant #4,022: One Toke Over the Line

Heck, I don't know if I am cursed or not, but boy, am I upset.

Let me tell you about what is going on with my eye problems, and it ain't pretty.

As scheduled, I went into surgery on this past Monday, but the surgery was never completed. It was only done partially, and I still sit here with a detached retina.

The reason the surgery was not completed was due to the incompetency of the doctor and more directly on her staff, who clearly have their own agendas and don't listen to what the patients has to say about his or her own care.

When a staff member spoke with us prior to the surgery, I told this ignoramus that I have been listed as what is called an "Uncooperative Patient," based on an incident that happened 19 years ago when I had my gall bladder removed.

I woke up in the middle of the operation, tried to pull out whatever they were using to remove the gall bladder, and had to be held down by six male nurses to complete the operation.

I was told that henceforth, when I have an operation, I must alert the doctor and staff about this incident, and they would proceed with anesthesia accordingly.

So I told the staff member about his, adding that I wanted to be completely "knocked out" when the ye surgery was performed, and she assured me that I would be.

So, last Monday, as I was being prepped for the surgery, I was told that the first "part" of the surgery would have me completely knocked out, but that for the second part of the surgery, I would have to be awake so that the doctor could ask me to turn my head in a certain way while she was repairing the retina.

I said that I was told that I would be fully under anesthesia for the ENTIRE procedure, and I, again, told them why.

They told me not to worry, that they do "hundreds" of these procedures every day.

I was already prepped, I was scared and nervous and crying--literally--about this change of events, but I tried to be a good soldier and go through with it.

The next thing I knew, I was drinking apple juice and eating cookies.

The doctor told me that I was moving around so much that she could not perform the surgery. She did not want to cut my eye, which would have led to total blindness.

DUH!

So I went home with part of the surgery done, and part of it not done. 

I had bandages on the eye, and I had to see her the next morning.

When I met with her, I told her my concerns, and I swear to you, she said to me this:

"So."

I was not a happy camper, because her robotic reaction to my experience was uncalled for.

I told her that her staff did not handle me correctly, and quite frankly, neither did she.

She sent me to another doctor apart from her own practice, who then passed me on to yet another docotr.

We met with the doctor this past Thursday, and my case is not as "simple" as the original doctor made it out to be.

It seems that after the doctor examined me fully, he discovered that the tear is on the back side of the eye, which makes it a much more complicated surgery--

So who knows if the original doctor could have done the surgery to begin with! She never mentioned that fact to me, never let on that it was something way worse than normal.

I am now scheduled for surgery on October 13, which is going to really cut it short for my daughter's wedding.

But yes, I can be repaired, although there is absolutely no guarantee that my full vision will be restored.

And yes, I will get the full anesthesia from the first moment of the surgery until the last moment of the surgery.

This is devastating news for me and for my family.

What did I do to deserve this?

I just want the procedure done and over with.

And the recovery ...

Let's just say that it isn't pretty.

The original doctor and her staff did not listen to a word I said, just went along procedurally without listening to what I had to say, and now I am in a mess.

I have to cancel several other medical visits that I was to have during this period leading up to my daughter's wedding, and this whole thing is making me upset, depressed and beside myself.

But at least I trust the new doctor, who gave me as thorough an eye examination as possible to determine that my case is not so atypical.

Woe is me, what did I do to deserve this?

As far as the blog, it was a trying time even typing this entry out, so I will probably be in and out of her for the next few weeks.

I have forced myself to work, to hand in stories, but it is not an easy task.

So I will be speaking to you intermittently, and if I make a few spelling or punctuation errors, just understand that I am really working with about one and a quarter eyes right now, and I am not up to my total competency.

Have a nice weekend, and I will speak to you sometime down the line.

And pray for me ...

I need it.

Rant #4,021: Eye Do!

The rehearsal dinner is over, and now the wedding is being held today.

I wish my nephew and his bride the best!

And when that is over, on Saturday, my son starts his bowling league again as a member of the team that is the league's defending champion, and then he has a 30th birthday party to attend for one of his teammates.

When that is all over and done with, on Monday morning, I get the absolute pleasure of having my slightly detached retina repaired!

It is a pleasure, take it from me!

Not the type of pleasure you might think it is, but I guess you have to look at it that way if you are in my shoes.

It has to be done, it has to make my vision better, and I have to get it done NOW, on Monday.

The surgery will probably force me from atop my perch here for at least a week, if not more.

And how I am going to do my work is another story.

I don't know what my limitations will be as I heal, but hopefully, I will get better quickly and be able to come back here and write about all these things that are important to me, and hopefully, interesting to you.

And get back to work.

But I don't know how long that will be, so this might just be my final Rant for some time.

I hope it isn't too long a recovery, because I just have so many things to do, that even a day off will be like an eternity.

Once I get the bandages off my right eye, I will begin the healing process, and I have all sorts of eye drops to use to get me better as quickly as possible.

So I am just going to have to wait, and I am just going to have to be patient.

My daughter is getting married next month--on Halloween--so that is my goal, to be at least good enough to see her take the plunge, so to speak.

And in between all of that, I have the pleasure of having another colonoscopy, which hopefully will go well.

Let's not forget that I also have an appointment with my urologist about my kidney stones ...

And I still have to make sure that my mother's grave is being properly attended to.

Yes, I have a full plate ahead of me, and hopefully, all will go well.

I have to be positive, because how else can I be at this point?

The eye operation will be my fifth operation this year, and hopefully, it will be the last during this calendar year and into the near future, at least.

I am also having the surgery on Yom Kippur, the holiest day of the year on the Jewish calendar ...

I mean, why not? 

I am supposed to suffer that day as I pay penance to God and my religion, so I guess I will do the ultimate suffering on that day.

I have to show that I am worthy to live another year, so I hope God can "see" that I should not be crossed off in his book.

Funny, my paternal grandfather came from Poland to this country in the early 1900s, and he came with no records of his birth, so nobody really knew how old he was and when he was born.

I think we kind of thought that he died when he was about 90 or 91 or 92, but we had no idea about his birthday.

He didn't either, and when the subject would come up, he said he was born on--

Yom Kippur, the ultimate day on the Jewish calendar for suffering.

I guess if that is true, my great grandmother truly suffered that day when she had him, but we never knew if that was a true story, and furthermore, Yom Kippur is a different day every year, so who knows when he was actually born?

But I loved him--as I did all of my grandparents--miss him to this day, and whatever date he was born on, he lived a full life.

So to my Pop Jack, happy birthday in heaven, and I know that you are getting thrown out of another pinochle game up where you are ...

Another story for another time.

As for me, I have another surgery to go through, and I just hope I have a good meld and hit a double pinochle and get through all of this well.

Wish me good luck!

Have a great weekend, have an easy fast on Yom Kippur if you are Jewish--

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

And I will speak to you again when I can see clearly again.

It is just that simple.

Rant #4,020: The Secret of My Success

Today is the beginning of a really crazy period for myself and my family.

It features a lot of highs, a lot of lows, and a lot of in-betweens kind of blending into each other.

My nephew on my wife's side of the family is getting married on Friday, and today, we have a rehearsal dinner to attend.

I have absolutely no idea what a rehearsal dinner is, and why some people have them.

That is not a knock against them; I just don't know why such an event is held, especially since the marriage ceremony and reception are the very next day.

I think it is a kind of a "get-to-know-you" event, perfect for situations where those going to the wedding don't necessarily know each other very well, and it creates a nice, friendly environment right before the wedding.

I think it is held right after a run-through of the wedding ceremony, and is only attended by those in the wedding party and other relatives.

I backed up these thoughts by visiting The Knot website (https://www.theknot.com/content/wedding-rehearsal-basics?utm_source=Pinterest&utm_medium=organic) where they pretty much echoed what I thought a rehearsal dinner was.

Here is the site's brief description:

"Traditionally, the rehearsal dinner is a meal following the practice run (or rehearsal) of the wedding ceremony. It takes place on the eve of the wedding day (less commonly a day or two earlier, depending on your schedule) and is the final pre-wedding event before the couple is married. On top of giving the couple some quality time with loved ones, the rehearsal dinner is a chance for both families to gather and kick off the wedding festivities—an ideal way to introduce relatives and friends who haven't met before."

So, based on my assumptive summation and the description of the event on this site, it should be a fun, and interesting, event, one I can check off my list of things that I have never done.

Then tomorrow, we have the actual wedding, something that I am really looking forward to.

It is a traditional wedding, and the glitz and glamor--and the food--should be exciting.

It is going to be a great affair, and I wish my nephew and his bride all the best--

They deserve it!

My son is in the wedding party, and we have seen him in his tuxedo, and he really looks sharp!

He may never get to wear a tux again, so he should live the moment, because the very next day on Saturday, the tux goes back to the rental place.

And on Saturday, my son's bowling league starts up again, where his team is the defending champion, so that should be fun.

Later in the day, he was invited to a friend's 30th birthday party, so it really should be a nice--and busy--day for my son.

Sunday is a day really for us all to rest up, because on Monday--

I am scheduled for my eye surgery, right on the day of the most solemn holiday on the Jewish calendar--

Yom Kippur.

It just worked out that way, as it was the first day that my doctor had open to do this surgery.

Yes, I have had surgeries and procedures on other holidays and on my birthday, so why not on Yom Kippur?

You have to fast on the holiday to show your solidarity and penance with God, and I can't eat, anyway, before the surgery, so it kind of all fits together like a piece of the puzzle of my current life.

Yes, I am a bit nervous about it, but it is something that has to be done.

It might lay me up for a period, but I will get better and be myself within time.

But let's not put the cart before the horse.

We have a rehearsal dinner to go to today, and that should be a lot of fun!

And the wedding--

Congrats to the bride and groom, and we wish them a successful union.

I think that I am going to choose the word "success" as the theme for the next few days.

Because everything that is happening into next week will be just that.

And I don't need any rehearsal to fully believe that.

Rant #4,019: You Make Me Sick

About the Macklemore controversy, where the well-known anti-Semitic, anti-Jew and anti-Israel rapper made his gig at the Ed Sheeran concert tour into a pro-Palestinian political demonstration, I have several things to to say about that.

Free speech is sacred in this country, and even Macklemore--as vile a public figure as there is, and this wasn't the first time he has thrown his views on Jews into the fire--has a right to voice his opinions.

But you don't shape an innocent concert into your own personal pulpit, spouting pro-terrorist views, taking many concert-goers by surprise, like he did on this tour.

And Ed Sheeran ... completely silent on his behavior at first ...

Then stating he would never put the clamps on someone speaking out for "oppressed people" on his tour, it was the promoters who put the kibosh in this rancid behavior.

As if he didn't know that there was at least a possibility that this was going to happen, based on the anti-social history of the rapper.

So he is part of this too ...

Helping to foment anti-Semitism for those who get their repulsive news through lies on social media.

I doubt Sheeran learned a lesson when corporations and individuals who own the venues that the concert tour was held in--including Robert Kraft, who also owns the New England Patriots--said either get rid of Macklemore based on his performance, or the tour cannot be held at these venues.

And then you have those who deride Macklemore's right to say what he wants during his performance ...

Very few Hollywood types--including Hollywood Jews--have said anything about this controversy, which is pretty much what you would expect from this completely out-of-touch group.

But one Hollywood dissenter stood out from the rest, quickly noting her displeasure with what the rapper was doing on this concert tour.

That dissenter is Pink, the popular singer who just happens to be Jewish.

I applaud her standing up about this whole thing, but let's take a deeper dive into what she said, what she implies, and what she actually means.

I have to be very careful about what I say here. I am happy that she spoke when few did, but there is more to thus than mere words.

Looking at, and deciphering what she said ...

Pink: "Palestinians deserve a future that honors their humanity and their aspirations."

Although she acknowledges that Hamas is a terrorist organization, she speaks about the lifestyle that Palestinians deserve, but she doesn't understand how this group is a terrorism-supporting people who would go after her, as the Jew that she is, if they could.

Palestinians deserve their situation based on who they allow to rule them; they voted for Hamas to be their leaders, they teach their children to hate Israel and all Jews ... typical Hollywood double talk nonsense from the singer.

Pink: "I was born a Jew. I didn't pick it, and I've never hidden it. And this week a whole lot of people decided what I believe without asking me, without checking a single thing I've ever said or done, because a repost and the word "Jew" were apparently enough to fill in the rest. But let me fill it in... myself."

And she speaks about her Jewishness as if it were thrust upon her. She had no choice ... wah, I am Jewish and no one asked me if I wanted to be Jewish! Wah!

There is something wrong here, isn't there? I am Jewish myself, but please, don't you see the problem with what she said? 

And remember, when Trump was running for the presidency the second time, Pink told her fans that if you vote for him, you aren't true patriots, and don't come to her concerts or buy her music. 

She supports the anti-Semitic Democrats, the party of Omar, Mamdani, AOC, and Sanders, among the most virulent anti-Semites in the country, and she also supports movements such as Black Lives Matter, one of the most anti-social and divisive movements that exist in this country.

When she derided fans who just happen to support Trump, she politicized her own music, just like Macklemore did during this and previous concerts. The pot calling the kettle black, as they say.

Pink is a phony talking out of two sides of her mouth, and I wish people would stop making her into some type of hero. 

She might mean well, but I don't think she understands the incongruities in what she says and what she does and what she believes in.

Sorry, I applaud Pink for stepping out from the pack, but quite frankly, she is, herself, part of the problem, and while she and others can't see that--

I do, and I don't like it, I don't like her double-talk ...

But heck, I expect it at this point in time.

Talking to hear yourself talk is all the rage in Hollywood, as is the deafening silence from those who should know better, but don't.

Sorry, Pink makes me see red.

Rant #4,018: No More Tears (Enough Is Enough)

Back to the cemetery ...

I went back there again yesterday to see if any progress had been made on making my mother's gravesite presentable--

And nothing had been done, even though we were told that something was going to be done quickly when my sister and I complained about it last week.

This time, it was not a holiday, so I went into the office, and complained.

I was told that my mother's gravesite--as well as many others--were ready for the planting season, and that her site would have bushes planted on it soon, but they could not give me a date.

After I enquired even further about why there were no bushes on the site to begin with, as there should have been, I kind of figured what they were going to say to me.

The person I spoke to said, "There is a question of payment."

"We never received a bill," I replied. "I will pay for it now, if you want me to."

The person said, "No, you don't have to pay for it now, just wait for the bushes to be planted again." 

I said, politely, that I don't want to cause a problem, but why were we not billed for all of this?

"Look, our post office is terrible. We sent the bill out, but you probably did not receive it."

"So can you email me the bill, or I can pay now."

"We are thinking about sending bills by email, because our post office is so terrible."

So where this stands now is, no, there are no bushes on the site.

I have been told that bushes will be planted during their planting season cycle, which is now, but the bushes won't be planted there possibly into October.

I was told that I would be notified by email when they are planted, and that they would contact me when payment was needed.

Why they didn't take my payment right then and there is beyond me, and this is now the third somewhat different story I have heard about why there are no bushes on my mom's gravesite.

I called my sister and told her all about it.

I don't trust this cemetery, to say the least, but what can I do?

I can't say I will take my business elsewhere, nor can I ask them to exhume the grave so I can bury my mother somewhere else.

This is a cemetery, and I have to trust that a mistake was made, and that it will be rectified soon.

I really wish I could have gotten there sooner, but again, not to excuse myself for not going to pay my respects to both my mother and father, but this has been a very, very rough year for me.

I do blame myself, but I also blame the cemetery, because there is no excuse for not contacting me about this.

If they did, in fact, send out a communication to me, I never received it, so since they have my phone and email address, they could have contacted me that way too, to make sure I received the message.

But, as usual, nothing goes smoothly when it comes to just about anything I do, so I have to go through extra layers to discern what is going on--

And to rectify it.

My mother deserves better.

Honestly, I just don't know what I did to anybody to deserve all of this, but if God is testing me ...

I hope that I have finally passed this latest test with flying colors.

Rant #4,017: Let Freedom Ring

The 25th anniversary of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks was a day of remorse ...

For some people, I guess.

New York City Mayor Mamdani and his cohorts attended the ceremony at Ground Zero, but by all accounts, they were there because they had to be there, not because they wanted to be there, as they were seen laughing during the reading of the names of the deceased.

Yes, there is often some laughter at funerals, because that is human nature, but based on what I have seen and what was reported, there were points that this garbage mayor and others were having a grand old time at the ceremony.

In fact, the mayor attended a march held beforehand that I had never heard of, one where marchers make their way to Ground Zero while stopping at churches, synagogues and mosques along the way so they can pay their religious respects to those who have perished.

Rather than marching all the way through, Mamdani only appeared at the mosque visit.

These incidents simply reinforce the fact that this guy is evil, what he stands for is evil--

And New York City deserves this garbage because they voted him into office.

Shame on all of them.

What did I do on Patriot's Day?

I worked.

I took my son to work, and brought him home when his workday was completed.

I saw some of the ceremonies.

I also did something that I had vowed to do for a while--

Nothing important in the grand scheme of things, but it was important for me, personally, that I get this chore done.

I worked to rearrange my 45 RPM singles collection using the two new holders I bought, originally to hold my CD collection, but now repurposed to hold singles.

Look, when you have 5,000 singles, it is quite a chore to do this, a lot of lifting, bending, and moving around.

It was time to do it, because once September 21 comes around and I have my eye operation, I can't do that stuff for at least a few weeks, if not a few months.

So I did it on September 11.

I moved everything, and while I don't feel that I am 100 percent done with the task, at least I have gotten off to a good start.

It will do for now.

In the early evening, it was the first night of Rosh Hashanah--the beginning of the Jewish High Holy Days---and while I did not attend shul then or over the weekend, I do hope for renewal--personal and otherwise--this new year.

I also watched baseball.

Baseball was thought to be a healing force during the aftermath of that horrid day, and 25 years later, the two New York baseball teams faced each other to signify the importance of the day, the importance of what happened in Manhattan that day, and the importance of our national pastime as an agent for healing. 

It was the Yankees versus the Mets, and I saw all the pre-game ceremonies unfurl, remembering the day 25 years ago.

Yankee Stadium was packed, and while there were Mets and Yankees fans there, fans of the U.S.A. eclipsed everything.

But we were brought back to the current normal--which is far from it--when a so-called "fan" ran onto the field and unfurled a Palestinian flag.

He ran out of the stands onto the field at exactly 9:11 p.m.

He was tackled and taken away.

Yes, most reports listed him as a "fan," once again showing their bias against the U.S. and Israel and yes, the free world.

His actions didn't ruin the game, but it also signified that there is a rancid boil that is festering in this country and around the world--

A lesion further inflamed by the likes of Mayor Mamdani and his evil, anti-U.S.A. minions.

It was September 11, 2026, not September 11, 2021, and yes, many of us seem to have collectively forgotten about what happened that day.

It is looked at as ancient history to some, but to others, that wound will never heal.

Some even say that Patriot's Day should be a national holiday, a day that we get off from school and work and honor those who died by the hands of terrorists.

We have to be really careful here.

We do not want the day to morph into a day that we go to the beach, have sales in our stores and online, have barbecues and take it easy, like we do on other holidays.

That would respect our American lifestyle that these terrorists tried to take away from us on that fateful day, but it would also disrespect those who gave the ultimate sacrifice.

So leave the day as it is, teach our children about the evils that happened that day, hold those responsible fully accountable for what they did, and make sure we are all on the same page when it comes to that day.

"U.S.A. ! ...

U.S.A. ! ...

U.S.A. ... !!!!!!!!

Rant #4,016: Live

Today, on the 25th anniversary of the 9/11 tragedy, I am going to rerun Rant #2,490, which ran on September 11, 2020, because it is still fresh, and it is one of the most important Rants I ever wrote.

Things are not what they once were pre-September 11, 2001, and they certainly are quite different than they are today.

Some look at this day as ancient history, as if we were talking about the Civil War or other conflicts in our nation's past.

Some scoff at it by voting into public office people who should be shunned for their beliefs and actions toward our country.

Some are just plain ignorant, and quite frankly, stupid, about this day and what it means to this country, and the world.

I am not the "some people" that I am talking about.

This day changed everything for us as a society and as a country, and it didn't change things for the better.

I have my own story to tell about that day, a day I spent at work telling military people from all over the country and the world what was happening, what we knew, what we didn't know, and trying to help them find out the whereabouts of loved ones.

I have told that story before, but not today.

Please read what I had to say seven years ago about this day and what it means.

There really is nothing more to say.

"Today is Patriots Day, where we honor those who perished, and those who were the first responders to the aftermath of the September 11, 2001, terrorists attacks.

So many of us seem to have forgotten that day--or at least put it out of our minds--and some of our young people--many of whom weren't even born when the tragedies occurred--look at it as ancient history.

But that horrid day weaves in and out of our current environment, our current problems, and yes, our current solutions, too.

And yes, my father had a story to tell about that day, a story that proved that there is a God in heaven, who was acting in his behalf when what happened happened.

As he told the story, he was at work that day, a day that started out like any other.

He woke up a 4 a.m. or thereabouts, got dressed, and did what he had to do to get ready for just another workday.

He was still young and strong that day--he would turn 70 on November 30 of that year, so he was doing exactly what he had been doing for all the years and years prior to this day.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

He took his cab, drove it into Manhattan, and started his workday, picking up passengers here and there for some relatively short jaunts around the city.

At sometime before or around 8:15 a.m., or so a fare took him to the World Trade Center, where he dropped off the passenger and immediately picked up another one, who wanted to go to a destination in Harlem.

That fare saved his life.

He drove that passenger to his destination, and at approximately 8:46 a.m. or so, he could see through the car windows that the World Trade Center was being hit by aircraft, and also through those windows, he could see that life would change forever in our country.

My father tried to get home, but it was a nearly impossible task that day.

Manhattan had pretty much gone on lockdown, and there was nowhere to go but to go into New Jersey and try to do an end around back to New York and to Long Island.

Cellphones were still in their infancy back then, and my father did not have one to call my mother about his whereabouts ... and even if he had one, as many who tried to do the same thing soon found out, cellphone service was extremely limited or non-existent throughout that day due to the rubble and carnage that ensued.

So throughout the day, my father simply tried to get back home, but we had no idea where he was, or even if he was safe.

He maneuvered the cab through New Jersey, and sometime around 8 p.m., he finally arrived home, so it took him approximately 11 hours or so for him to get back to Long Island and back home.

It must have been a harrowing day for him, as it was for all of us. But to be so far away from home, and finding his way back in increments, must have been incredible.

And that fare to Harlem ... that gentleman was my father's guardian angel for sure.

As we look back at that day, and I, personally, look back at my father's life, that was a signature day for both him and humanity.

We discovered that, if we didn't already know this yet, that human beings can be the most vicious and violent creatures on earth to justify whatever path they choose to take.

But human beings can also be accommodating, they can also be peaceful, and they can also go about their jobs with the utmost of respect and reserve and resolve to do the best job they can do.

We saw all of that on what we now call 9-11, or 9/11, whatever you prefer.

And on this day, we look back on the good, the bad and the ugly, and I do mean the very good, the very bad, and the very ugly.

We must never forget what happened that day, and work to never let it happen again.

I know that my father was only a minuscule piece of the puzzle that happened that day, but his drive and determination to find a way to get home was demonstrated by not only him, but millions of others on that dreadful day.

It once again proved that family comes first, whether it is your own personal brood or the family of humanity.

Family comes first, everything else comes in afterward.

So as we look back at the anniversary of that tragic day, let's remember that though all of our differences, through all of our highs and lows and in-betweens, we are all part of a single family, the family of humanity and human kind, and that we can get through everything if we do it together as one.

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

And Happy Rosh Hashanah--which begins at sunset this evening--to my Jewish family and friends.

Rant #4,015: Wonderful World

Don't get me started ... 

Don't get me started on Lindsay Clancy, Luigi Mangione, and the like.

They are all guilty as charged ...

But in this toxic environment we live in, the perpetrators are being painted as the victims, while those innocent people who they cast their scorn on are considered villains ...

Or at the very least, collateral damage.

Mangione has already pleaded guilty, and quite frankly, he deserves the death penalty for what he did to that health insurance executive.

He planned the whole thing out, shot the guy in the back, and yet ...

Mangione has so many adoring women at his beck and call that you would think that he was this generation's Paul, John, George and Ringo ...

Or at least Davy Jones and David Cassidy.

Clancy's case is just so insipid that it demonstrates what a sick world we live in.

She is as guilty as can be for killing her three kids in a fit of rage, which was underlined by her realizing this and trying to take her own life.

God saw to it that not only would she suffer for this attempt--she is paralyzed from it--but that she would be alive, and seemingly coherent, when standing trial for the severity of what she did.

But her defense claims some type of post-partum depression was the reason that she killed her kids, and thus, she was not fully culpable for her actions.

This is the worst type of baloney, even worse than Hebrew National cold cuts which have spoiled.

She can get the most severe charge--first degree murder--or the lesser charge--manslaughter--or be ruled not culpable for her actions due to reasons related to her depression.

Evidently, it has come out that one juror--one single male juror--did not go along with the other jurors' views that she was not culpable for her actions due to her mental condition, so there was a mistrial because the jury could not come to a full, in unison, verdict.

And then Clancy's lawyers asked President Trump for a pardon!

You cannot make this stuff up.

Let me tell you, Clancy is guilty of the most severe charge, and I am going to tell you why.

She had three children ... three kids ...

So you are telling me that this post-partum thing was a buildup from having three young children to care for?

I want to tell you something that I only found out about a few years back.

When my mother gave birth to me, she experienced what we now know is some level of post-partum depression.

She gave birth to me, and she really did not know how to take care of me.

She never harmed me, never did anything untoward to me.

Doctors didn't know that this type of malady exists, so I guess the doctors simply thought that she was a new mother, and that she would figure it out on her own.

My mother knew something wasn't right, and she did the right thing--

She called in my grandmother, her mother, who helped my mother through this thing, until my mother could stand on her own two feet and take care of me.

My mother did the right thing; Clancy obviously did not.

And all of the family members that attended this trial to support Clancy--

Where were they when she was going through all of this?

And again, this is not one kid, it was three kids.

Yes, Clancy is guilty of the top offense, and she should get the death penalty like Mangione, but neither will.

And again, Clancy has hordes of admirers, who look at her as a hero ...

And most of these, like with Mangione, are middle-aged women.

I always thought that women were the stronger and brighter of the two sexes, but I am beginning to have my doubts.

Many women born from the 1980s on are not the same women who were born earlier.

They are petulant, delusional, and I do think the reliance on the Internet has a lot to do with it.

And many of the men are no better.

So they can support Clancy, and Mangione all they like, but their blue hair and nose rings don't hide the fact that they are among the dumbest human beings on the face of the planet.

Making those that perpetrate these horrid crimes into heroes is just so abominable.

I don't know what these women get out of this, and a few commentators have postulated what these women need to get their feet planted on the ground again, so I won't get into that here.

And when we talk about Clancy and Mangione, and how cults have sprung up around them, don't get me started on another instance of perpetrators of horrid crimes being made into the victims--

Just look at what is happening in the Middle East, where Israel--and the U.S.--has become the villain and terrorists like Hamas/Palestinians and Hezbollah are looked upon as the victims, even though their crimes are horrid.

We live in such a strange world now, and level heads must prevail.

And that goes for the 25th anniversary of 9/11, which I will talk about in tomorrow's Rant.

Yes, the world has lost its collective mind.

Rant #4,014: Wrong

As I spoke about in yesterday's Rant, I called the cemetery office about my mother's plot not being taken care of, and the woman I spoke to said this to me:

"A mistake may have been made," relating to my mom's gravesite being totally devoid of care and full of weeds.

She said that the greenery which had been earmarked for my mother's grave might have been, instead, placed on someone else's nearby grave by mistake.

She said they would send a caretaker out to see the state of the site.

Again, this is not the world I was born into.

This is a world of complete ineptitude, one where this type of behavior seems to be accepted.

And when my sister called the cemetery, she received a com0letely different story.

Again, this is partly my family's fault, as we hadn't visited the grave to pay our respects in some time.

Again, I can make the excuse that we have been busy with so many other things, which we have, but that is not a good excuse.

We dropped the ball as much as the cemetery dropped the ball.

The only thing that is different is that the cemetery told us two different stories, neither which made much sense.

Now, we have been told that the site will be cleaned up, and bushes put where the weeds are.

So I have to say, I learned another life lesson, and I learned it the hard way:

You can't trust anyone or anything--not even a cemetery--to do the right thing.

In this bizarro world that we live in today, you have to be on top of everything, or nothing will get done.

Even to keep a gravesite in presentable fashion.

I don't even know how I feel right now.

Sure, I am upset with myself for not visiting the site and not making sure that our original wishes for greenery there were carried out.

But I am also upset with the cemetery, which should have done whatever they could to to make sure that my mother's gravesite was not a site of weeds.

So there is fault on both sides, making me kind of dizzy from the whole thing ...

Maybe even a bit numb about this episode.

Again, my father's site is fine, with nice greenery standing proudly right in front of his gravestone.

My mother's site ...

The gravestone stands out proudly, looks brand new--

But the actual grave site is nothing but a gaggle of weeds.

That is not what we intended it to look like, and whatever mistake that was made must be rectified ASAP.

The Jewish High Holy Days, beginning with Rosh Hashanah and ending with Yom Kippur, begin later this week, ironically on September 11, the evening of the 25th anniversary of one of the worst days in our nation's history.

I am not likening what happened that day to what happened to my mother's gravesite, but it all seems to be rolled into one, in sort of a strange way.

I believe that my mother deserves way better than this, and yes, I do blame myself for not going to the grave and seeing what was there, and not there, sooner.

My fault. My fault entirely.

I hope my mother, in heaven, forgives me for this obvious oversight--

And I hope that in the coming days, her gravesite will be something that looks presentable, is full of greenery, and something that she deserves for a long life well spent caring for her children and grandchildren.

She simply does not deserve this, and no matter whose fault it is--individually and/or collectively--my mother deserves much, much better.

Period.

Rant #4,013: Don't You Care

Labor Day was a "labor," what can I tell you.

Things are supposed to slow down that day, but for me, they revved up.

I decided to visit the cemetery where my parents are buried.

I, personally, had not been there in quite a while, but I decided to go on Labor Day because my father died on Labor Day, the same exact September 7 in 2020, when he passed, that Labor Day was on this year.

So I figured that I would visit both of their graves--they are not buried together, as this is an Orthodox Jewish cemetery, and men and women are buried separately--one, and then the other, just a few steps away from each other.

Admittedly, although I had a map of the place, it was still difficult for me to find the graves, but through trial and error, I finally found them, to my relief.

I found my father's grave first, and I have to tell you, it looked pretty spiffy.

It was taken care of with perpetual care, and everything was neat and tidy.

I said what I had to say, put a rock on top of the gravestone to signify that I had visited, and moved on to my mom's grave.

During her burial service, I am about 99.9 percent sure that we asked the cemetery for perpetual care for her site, but since we never received a bill from them for this service, I had a sneaking suspicion that our wishes were never applied--

And to my dismay, they weren't.

The site was full of weeds, and while the stone was immaculate--she passed away on Sept. 5, 2023, so it is only a few years back--the plot where it sits was awful.

I said what I had to say, put a stone on top of the gravestone to signify that I was there, and I left, to go to the cemetery office--

Which I found out was closed, at least when I was there, as again, it was Labor Day, a national holiday.

So I vowed to call them today--which I will do when the office opens at 9 a.m.--and get this thing figured out.

Look, when we buried my mother, the day was obviously an emotional one, and the unveiling of the stone some time later was also very emotional.

Perhaps things didn't get done that should have been done, but I am pretty sure that we did ask for perpetual care for my mom's site.

I believe my mother, when she still was cognizant before her mind went, might have paid for "forever" perpetual care for my father's grave, as we have never received a bill for that either, and his site looked very well kept.

But for my mother ...

I even remember talking to my brother in law about this, and we said we would alternate the payments, he paying one bill, me paying the next bill, and on and on into perpetuity.

But we never received a bill, so we were each at fault for not following up on this until now.

I could make every excuse in the world, but I won't--

We dropped the ball on this, and the results were disturbing.

There is no moral to this story ...

Just that when a loved one like a parent passes, the survivors have to keep up on things like this, and quite frankly, we simply didn't.

But at least now, we will start to take care of it, giving my mother the proper burial site that she deserves.

As the song goes, "Sorry seems to be the hardest word," but all I can say to my mom and dad after visiting them yesterday is--

"SORRY."