Rant #3,719: Mission: Impossible

Yes, I got hit bad at my local car service station.

Not only did I get my car inspection and an oil change, but I needed tires and an alignment.

In a blink of an eye, nearly $700 is down the drain.

And right after hearing this bad news, I received a message in my email, which kind of references my blog entry from yesterday.

I posted the following on Facebook, and it bears worth posting again:

"Zip Recruiter, Indeed and other job search sites are all unregulated scams.

They post jobs that don't exist, to get companies to take out contracts with them.

It happened at my last job, when an opening was posted ... while we were about two weeks away from going out of business.

My son applied for a recently posted position, and in what has happened countless times before, although the job site communicated that his resume was "looked at" three times, this is the message that we just received:

'I wanted to let you know that xxx has closed or temporarily put the xxx position on hold.

Meanwhile, we can focus our energy on getting you other opportunities. Check out these similar jobs I think you’d be a good fit for:'

THE JOB NEVER EXISTED IN THE FIRST PLACE. IT IS JUST A PLOY TO GET A COMPANY TO TAKE OUT A JOB CONTRACT WITH THEM.

And the same job site advertised another job for a local business that I know has been closed at least six months ... in the dead Sunrise Mall, no less.

Beware these sites. They are nothing but scams.

My son has done everything he can do to get a job, but as a special needs person, and with these bogus sites, IT HAS BECOME IMPOSSIBLE."

"Impossible" is the operative word here.

Nobody helps, nobody cares, and we are getting nowhere with his job search.

And then, you have these companies which abuse unwitting job seekers with bogus offers.

Applying via the Internet is a negative to begin with, but when you have companies advertising jobs that don't not exist ...

IMPOSSIBLE.

So you wonder why I might go to my high school reunion ... not to meet up with people I never knew to begin with, but to use the occasion as an avenue to get my son's resume out to those who might be able to help him.

IMPOSSIBLE.

IMPOSSIBLE.

IMPOSSIBLE.

Again I ask, can anybody out there help my son?

He desperately needs a guardian angel, and for people like him, they seem to be in very short supply.

Rant #3,718: Daddy's Song

I received some nice gifts for Father's Day, but i have to tell you, the cards were the best!

Maybe i am a bit sensitive because of my health situation, but the words really hit home.

Also, I saw my daughter on Father's Day, the first time I saw her in a year, since last Father's Day.

Her fiance was not there--he was visiting his father for the day--but my wife, my son and I had a nice three-hour visit, the first time we had ever been over there to her apartment.

But now, the work week starts--

And as you read this, I am in the local car shop for my inspection and an oil change.

I just hope that I don't get hit with any extra expenses related to the inspection; that will certainly ruin my day and week.

Things were going good with my medical action, but I had a relapse this past weekend, so it is back to square one--i have two doctors' appointments on Friday, so Plan B (or is it Plan C, D, E, F ... ?) will have to wait.

I have one further dilemma I have to face this week. Maybe you can help me make a decision.

My 50-year high school reunion is coming up in September, and if one is going, payment has to be in by the end of this month 

I hated every moment I spent at Massapequa High School from 1971 to 1975, and I do mean every moment.

We moved from Queens to Long Island just prior to my beginning of high school, and for the four years I was there, I never fit in.

I wasn't an athlete, I wasn't a brain, I wasn't a druggie or a smoker, I didn't know anyone, and I tried to make friends in high school, trying to break through ironclad cliques that both repelled and repulsed me at the same time.

My grades suffered, I was made fun of, and many tiffs were settled by old fashioned fights.

I kind of was not there while being there, a real man without a country--

So much so that I spent many weekends back in my old neighborhood with my true friends. People thought I still lived there!

Anyway, things got a smidgen better by senior year, but I never felt I fit in, and I stood out like a sore thumb.

And back then, Massapequa High School was more "Hollywood East," with so many future stars--many famous and infamous--walking in the same halls that i did, including Joey Buttufucco, Jessica Hahn, Brian Setzer and Jerry Seinfeld.

Going into college and then grad school, I never had such socialization problems again, my grades improved, and I never looked back.

We already had one reunion, a year after we graduated in 1976, and I was the first one there and the first one to leave.

Nothing had changed.

So with all of this baggage, why even consider going to the 50-year reunion?

i figure if i can use my presence at the reunion in a positive way, it will be worth it.

As you know, my son is looking for a new job, and there are so many obstacles in his way, that it is really taking the life out of both him and me.

It is very depressing. Special needs people are simply not being hired.

We have touched every store, every organization and every group, and no one can help him.

We have been banging our brains out on this since the beginning of the year, and things are getting worse--

And I believe it is greatly impacting my son. He often seems to be so far away.

Anyway, I figured that if I showed up at the reunion, I might be able to make a few contacts and hand out a few of his resumes there--just another avenue for us to trod in, with the goal of finding him a job.

Look, if this was six years ago, i would have gone to this reunion without thinking twice about it--where I could pass out my own resume looking for full-time work.

This is a little different ... I would be talking him up with many people I didn't even talk to or know 50 years ago!

And by the way, my son also graduated from the same high school, 39 years later.

I spoke to the organizer about this, and she was noncommittal, stating that most people would be coming from out of town, people will be coming to relive their memories, so it might not be the right venue for this--

But she didn't tell me not to.

My feeling is that I have nothing to lose, and if I get one or two people to listen to me and take my son's resume, it will all be worth it--

Even though I might be the first one there and the first one out again.

What do you think?

Should I go and carry out my plan, or should I take a (hall) pass on this?

Please let me know ... .

Rant #3,717: I Want To Take You Higher

I completed everything that I had to do, and i thought Thursday would be a quiet day--

But it wasn't.

I was on the phone for about three hours, with my aunt, my sister, and with my dental insurer, which, over the months my son and I have have been covered by them, has given us nothing but trouble related to bill payment (don't ask).

But at least i had the normal flow of work and other things to do, so I wouid rather have the time to touch base with my sister and aunt than to do hours and hours of typing.

(The stuff with the dental insurer I can completely live without.)

And I texted with my daughter--

Will wonders never cease!

Anyway, as you are reading this, it is Friday the 13th, i am at the doctor for yet another examination, and all the fun continues next week, when I have to bring my car in for an oil change and yearly inspection ... and then later in the week, I have to go to yet another doctor.

But during this past week, we lost Sly Stone first, and then Brian Wilson.

I am going to talk about Wilson first.

Personally, I don't think I truly got the Beach Boys until I was older.

I thought a lot of their music was wimpy, but as I got older, i understood the lyrics and themes a bit more, and I became a fan.

Those songs evoke summer, but if you got Wilson's music, you know that he was writing these songs almost in third person.

He wasnt a surfer, wasnt popular with California girls, and this all forced him to look elsewhere, "God Only Knows."

But if you were looking for a soundtrack of the 1960s, you must at least include, if not fully turn to, Wilson's Beach Boys songs as a template for that era.

And whether as a participant or in third person, he "got" summer--

As did Sylvester Stewart, who i think was the complete opppsite of Wilson; as he actually lived the summer, and it showed in his music--

Such as "Hot Fun in the Summertime," one of the great seasonal anthems.

But Sly was more than that.

He mixed rock, soul, rhythm and blues, jazz and gospel and created funk, and during their short period of prominence, Sly and the Family Stone were "IT"--nobody looked like them or sounded like them.

I have a personal recollection related to Sly ... or was it Walt?

The story is that both Sly's girlfriend at the time, and Walt Frazier's girlfriend, lived in my old neighborhood,  Rochdale Village, South Jamaica, Queens, New York, about 1969-1970 or so. 

I remember that word got around quickly that one of them would be picking up his girlfriend in Rochdale in his Rolls Royce. 

We went over to Section 5, I think it was, the Rolls Royce came, the girl was picked up, and the car drove away, with a bunch of us stupid kids running behind the car until it took off. 

Again, I don't know if it was Sly or Walt, but I was one of those stupid kids. 

Great memory.

Both were troubled souls, wasting their gifts on drugs and later, mental illness.

But i would rather think of the good times 

Brian and Sly are now creating new masterworks in heaven, but what they left behind ...

WOW!

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

And Happy Father's Day!

Rant #3,716: All I Can Take

Sorry, I am just so busy with my work obligations that we are going to have to go the "reading Rant" way again.

Thanks for bearing with me through this horror show.

30

With his new-found confidence and exuberance, Abraham Lincoln Panim decided to take a walk that evening, a walk like he had taken many times before. But with his physical change, this was going to be a walk like no other.

He got up from his bed, put on his jacket, and wrapped his scarf around his neck, but not on his face. He also stuffed the mirror into his pocket, and then he walked to his mother’s bedroom.

“Mom, I’m taking a walk,” he yelled through his mother’s still-closed bedroom door. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes.”

Mrs. Panim heard her son this time, and said, “Take that walk, and maybe it will help you think!” she screamed back.

He walked outside the house, letting the door close by itself behind him. He entered the fresh air with a big smile on his face, and he began to walk with a cadence that he hadn’t ever remembered that he had in previous walks with himself and his mother.

It was turning to evening, and there was barely enough natural light to use as the street lights popped on, illuminating the area of his walk, which led to the nearby park, as his walks always did.

“Why aren’t people stopping and admiring me?” he said, but while it wasn’t completely dark, it wasn’t as light as it was during the day. “I guess it is too dark for people to admire me,” he thought.

Abraham Lincoln Panim walked his usual walk, and he went by a few other people walking in the park, and a few did, in fact, stop to look at him, some young girls and some older women. He knew they were looking at him, and almost instinctively moved his scarf even further down his neck so it would expose more of his face to everyone.

He reached the point where he normally stopped, sat on the same bench that he had sat on many times before, and took in the night air as people passed him going both ways. Some stopped to look at him, and he sat up when he knew they were staring.

“I have to give them a full look at my features, so I better sit up straight,” he thought to himself as he moved up on the bench.

Abraham Lincoln Panim sat on the bench for some time, and then he saw in the distance a woman jogging with her dog, and as the woman came closer to him, he saw that it was Ariel and her dog Snuff.

“Ariel, Arilel … it’s Abraham Lincoln Panim … please take a rest,” he said as she came closer to him. “Please … .”

Ariel approached, and guided by her seeing-eye dog, sat down on the bench.

“Hi, Abraham Lincoln Panim,” she said, still taking in her breath from her run. “I am really, really glad to see you.”

“And I am too,” he said, thinking to himself, “If she could really actually see me now!”

“Look, Abraham Lincoln Panim, I really want to apologize for the way you were treated the other day. I am sorry that Brandon screamed at you like that. He told me who you were, and what he was so upset about.”

“So he told you about my rat face?”

“Yes, and I really don’t care about that,” Ariel said. “I mean, I can’t really see anything anyway, and you have a nice speaking voice and you are so kind, that well … look, I am blind. Who am I to say anything about how you look, when I can’t even see you?”

“Well, Ariel, things have changed—“

“Yes, they have changed. After Brandon did what he did, I had a long talk with him, and we are no longer a … a … couple, let’s say. He didn’t take it very well, but we aren’t together anymore.”

A big smile crossed Abraham Lincoln Panim’s face, and he tugged at his scarf. “You mean, he is out of your life?” he asked.

“Yes, we are not together anymore,” Ariel said. “He showed what a big jerk he was when he yelled at you like that. I don’t care if you have a rat face, you seem to be a nice guy. Brandon and I were going together for a short time, and it went both good and bad, but I guess you can say that this was the straw that broke the camel’s back. There was no need for what he did, because all we were doing was talking.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim pushed himself up in the bench. “Look, things have changed—“

“Yes, they sure have,” Ariel said.

“Listen, I am not trying to hit on you or anything, but if you aren’t with Brandon anymore … might you like to … well might you like to go out for coffee maybe … things have changed—“

“Yes, I was hoping that you would say that,” Ariel said. “If you hadn’t asked me, I am pretty sure I would have asked you!”

The two laughed, and the conversation stopped, as Abraham Lincoln Panim sat with a broad smile on his face in the moonlight, and Ariel sat back for a few moments.

Some young girls walked past the bench, and each time, Abraham Lincoln Panim sat up straighter in the bench, as he knew he was being stared at without Ariel even realizing it.

“Boy, a lot of people are walking in the park today,” she said, as she finally got up from the bench and was ready to continue her evening jog.

“Wait, before you go, when can I—“

“How about tomorrow, we meet right here at this exact time? It is where we finally met and spoke anyway, and we can take it from there.”

“OK, Ariel, I will meet you here tomorrow at this exact time.”

“Yes, and don’t forget, Ruff, will also be here, so it will be a threesome!” she said as she started to run away from the bench.

“See you then,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said as Ariel ran off into the distance.

He continued to sit on the bench for a few moments, with his arms stretched out from one side of the bench to the other, and a big smile on his face.

At least this time, when people passed him by and stared at him and giggled, he didn’t respond at all. He had other things on his mind.

Once again, he looked over a few benches, and the older woman was sitting on a bench.

He blinked, and once again, she was gone.

“I must be seeing things,” he said, as he walked home with a happy jaunt that he had never experienced before.

Rant #3,715: Read It and Weep

Well, in addition to everything else I am going through right now, I am smack dab in the middle of writing up these two all-day meetings for work.

And i am already pooped.

So today is going to have to be a "reading Rant," and here is the next chapter of my novel.

Thanks for bearing with me through all this turmoil.

29

Mrs. Panim came home some time after her son had arrived home. She opened the door after reaching into the mailbox to get the mail, just a few  letters, which she put under her arm as she entered her home. 

As Mrs. Panim came in, she put her things on the couch in the living room, and she moved toward the kitchen. She took a drinking glass out of the cupboard and filled it with water from the sink tap and sat down, looking very tired and worn out.

“Abraham Lincoln Panim, where are you?” she said in a loud voice. “Come into the kitchen, please.”

Her son was in his room, admiring his features with a hand mirror he found stashed away under the bathroom sink.

“Just a minute,” he said, taking one last look of himself in the mirror before leaving the bathroom and tossing the hand mirror on his bed. He also took his scarf and put it around his face as he had done before, sometimes in his house but not every time.

As he walked out of the room, he put on his scarf, tightening it around his face as he had when he was a rat face.

As he was doing that, he looked at the picture of the smiling Mrs. Stottle that was there. He looked at it, almost seeking approval for what had happened to him.

Abraham Lincoln Panim stared at the picture for a second. “I don’t know, it doesn’t look like her smile is as wide as it was the last time I looked at the picture,” he thought to himself. “I must be so happy that I didn’t see it before.”

He thought nothing more of it, and walked into the kitchen. His mother motioned for him to sit down at the kitchen table.

“I have had a very stressful day, lots of things going on where I was, and I hear that a lot of things were going on at school while I wasn’t there,” Mrs. Panim said to her son.

“What happened—“ said her son, but he could barely get the words out before his mother interrupted him.

“I want to focus on what is happening in school, the other stuff is important, but what is happening in school is what I want to speak to you about,” she said.

“Mom, what is it? I am a little busy—“

“Look, I have some good news for you, so you better listen. When I got back to the school late in the day, I found out that the teacher you are subbing for is going to be out indefinitely, so you are going to lead that class for the foreseeable future. You have done well, and you really earned the spot.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim smiled a broad smile, that could even almost be seen behind the scarf, which was still pulled tightly to his face.

“I am really proud of you, Abraham Lincoln Panim. But as proud of you as I am about this, you are not going to use the school as your personal model runway and show everyone how handsome you are now.”

“How did you find out?” Abraham Lincoln Panim said to his mother as he slowly took off his scarf.

“Look, I knew this was inevitable,” she said to him. “I just did not know when it would come. These things happen in our family, or sometimes they do not happen, with others. Remember Mrs. Stottle when she passed away? Remember her aching feet? Remember when we saw her, and her feet had never changed?”

Abraham Lincoln Panim nodded in agreement.

And when it happens, if it happens, it happens,” she said. “And we certainly don’t strut around like a peacock, showing ourselves off as if we are some type of Adonis, somebody above everyone else.”

“But mom—“

“Look, when this happens, if it happens, we are humble. We do not draw attention to ourselves. We simply go about our business, and we don’t forget when people made fun of us.”

“But mom, I never told anybody to stare at me, I never told anybody to ogle my good looks, I never told anyone to adore me—“

“Listen to yourself. Listen to the words you are using—ogle, adore—just a few days ago, you were upset at how you looked and would never want anyone to stare at you like they did. Today, you are so different!”

“Mom—“

“Listen, I know when this happens, it puts you in a place that you cannot believe that you are in. Think of those that this never happens to, like Mrs. Stottle. What would Mrs. Stottle think of your behavior right now?

“And the thing that gets me the most is that you never told me. You wrapped yourself up like you always do in the morning with your scarf, and you knew the change had happened. You went to school, making people—and your own students—very uncomfortable around you. And you never let me know—you even came in here a few minutes ago with your scarf on, and you rarely wear the scarf in the house.

“You could have told me. I mean, Abraham Lincoln Panim, don’t get me wrong, I am happy that you went through the change. Like I said, not everyone does. Mrs. Stottle never did, she had to live with that for her entire life.

“But to milk the whole thing like you have done, and to push people’s face right in it, I mean, do you truly understand my mixed emotions here? We don’t judge people by how they look. We judge them by how they act. Remember what Mrs. Stottle used to say, ‘Do unto others—“

“But mom—“

“Listen, we have always been truthful about things, but this time, at one of the most important times of your life, you never told me, never let on to anybody, and then, you made your “debut” at school and made people feel uncomfortable as you strutted around the school like Superman.

“That will not ever happen again, do you understand? Never again.”

Mrs. Panim got up from the table, and went into her bedroom, loudly closing the door behind her. Abraham Lincoln Panim said, “I’m sorry,” but he doubted he heard her.

He picked up his scarf as he left the kitchen, and he went back into his bedroom, laying on the bed where his hand mirror was. He again looked in the mirror, but put it down quickly on the bed.

“Is she so upset that I am now the most handsome man in the world, or is she upset that I didn’t tell her what had happened to me?” he thought to himself as he once again picked up the mirror, admiring his features as he continued to think about what his mother was thinking about him.

“I think Mrs. Stottle would be proud of me,” he thought, as he glanced over to her photo. He saw that her smile was now gone, replaced by something of a blank look on her face.

“I must be tired … I must be seeing things,” as he turned away from the picture, and stared into the hand mirror again and again and again.

Rant #3,714: I Can't Stand Up For Fallong Down

Monday was simply one of the most frustrating and nerve-wracking days of my life.

I had my first medical appointment of the week, and at this point, I don't know if it went well or not.

I told the doctor about my prostate ills--he was the one who directed me to the urologist I have been using--and to make a long story short, he believes my continued woes seven months after the fact is that I have--

An infection, and he prescribed me pills to combat that, if that is what I have.

So he told me to cancel the invasive procedure I was going to have on Thursday, and to stop taking whatever pills the urologist prescribed to me.

He also made an appointment for me with another urologist, for a week from Friday.

So is an infection what is ailing me?

At this point, your guess is as good as mine ... and I don't yet know if canceling the procedure was the right thing to do.

I was sworn by my doctor to secrecy, and my urologist's office did call to find out why I canceled, but I didn't breathe a word. I let them figure it out for themselves.

Also at the doctor's office, tests found that I have--

An extra heartbeat.

Look, I knew my heart was ticking pretty well, but it never knew that it was ticking too much.

So to watch this, I am now wearing a device on my chest to monitor all of this, which I have to wear through Friday morning.

They had to shave part of my chest so the unit would affix to me, and they gave me a cut that bled for about a half hour.

So now, while I don't have to go to the procedure on Thursday, I do have to go back to my regular doctor on Friday--the 13th, naturally--and I have a new urologist to go to next week.

As you could imagine, after I picked up my new prescription--which of course, wasn't ready when I went to pick it up--I went home, ate lunch, did any work that I had to do, and then crawled into bed and slept for two solid hours.

This is all very depressing, perplexing and frustrating to me, and I guess my mind and body simply crashed.

And this is all prior to the fun I have the next two days, covering eight-hour conferences for work.

So, with everything going on, I will be in and out of the Blog for the remainder of the week--

If I survive all of this, which right now, is somewhat questionable.

No, not really, but to me, this is not living, and this certainly isn't retirement.

I ask myself, and i ask myself constantly, the following question:

"What did I do to anyone to deserve this?"

And you know, i don't have an answer to that question.

(I will, however, have much more to say about the passing of Sly Stone when I have a chance.)

Rant #3,713: Easy To Be Hard

Have you ever had a day where, in spite of your best efforts, everything you do goes wrong?

I had such a day on this past Saturday, and it was very frustrating.

It all began early, literally right off the bat 

I woke up, and took a shower, which, for some reason was ice cold.

It didn't get even lukewarm until I was done and ready to shut the shower off.

Then I got dressed, looked for the Saturday newspaper, and it wasn't there.

I looked several subsequent times, and there was no newspaper.

It was past 8 a.m., and since the paper never came, I contacted Newsday for a refund--by that point, I had read the paper online.

Saturday is my son's bowling league day, so we went to the alley, and he began bowling--

Only to be stopped when the lanes malfunctioned, to the point that the two teams had to move to another two lanes--

Where my son and his team had a bad off week and lost both games.

Later in the day, while my wife was at work, i do what I always do, which is to go out for fast food, as it gives my wife a break from cooking.

She texted me whst she wanted, and I went out to get it, and get something else for myself and our son.

I brought everything home, only to discover that they left out part of my son's order, and that I was given the wrong type of salad for my wife.

And later, the Yankees lost to the Red Sox, so that served as the "cherry on top" fir a lousy day 

Sunday started off poorly.

My electric razor may have broken, as it took forever to shave thst morning.

But happily, the rest of Sunday went a little better, and my wife, my son and I went out to a local Italian restaurant to celebrate our 32nd anniversary, and everything went well--

Which i hope is a good omen for this week, as starting today, I have one of the busiest weeks i have ever had.

As you are reading this Rant, I am in my doctor's office, where I begin my yearly physical.

I feel fine, I am not expecting any major surprises, but more on that later.

On Tuesday and Wednesday, I have back-to-back eight-hour meetings to cover for work, and they already told me thst they want the coverages back ASAP.

I replied that I will do the best I can, but I have a major appointment with my urologist on Thursday.

As I said, I feel fine--

Except for one thing: the after effects of the procedure that I had more than six months ago.

My body should have healed, but I appear to be one in a million--

It hasn't healed, and on Thursday, I need to go through another procedure so the doctor can find out why.

After the first procedure, believe me, I am hesitant to go through another one, but perhaps the doctor can help me this time, rather than tell me that what I am going through is "normal," which it isn't.

And I still have these stories to write!

Thus, I might be in and out here at the Blog this week.

Please bear with me, and please keep me in your thoughts.

Happily, I don't have cancer, but why I continue to suffer is something we hopefully can find out later this week--

My week from hell, but maybe the devil will spare me this time around.

It would make for a great Father's Day gift, wouldn't it now?