Rant #3,729: Hot, Hot, Hot

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

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

I am not one of those people.

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

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

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

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

I just never got what all the fuss was about.

But what is the holiday without fireworks?

I guess it wouldn't be the same.

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

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

And what would July 4th be without barbecues?

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

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

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

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

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

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

I can't wait!

Rant #3,728: Old Days

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

High school ...

Just four years of my 68 years of life.

Those high school years ...

Best forgotten.

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

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

But I am going with a purpose.

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

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

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

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

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

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

My son.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why not take a chance?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But I do believe it is worth a shot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

My "Janis Joplin" moment was much more subtle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So take that!

"I got the Mercedes Benz ... ."

Rant #3,726: Dear God

And looking at the New York City mayoral race a little bit closer ...

Zohran Mamdani has not gotten the nomination yet, because he did not get 50 percent of the vote, and not all votes have been counted.

Andrew Cuomo dropped out of the race, like the coward that he is.

Or did he? Only he knows for sure. He might run as an independent.

Onto the next round.

That being said (and I said a lot of this on Facebook yesterday)--

New York City voters deserve who they vote for ... and can you imagine this anti-Semite as mayor of a city with the second largest Jewish population in the world, behind only Israel?

His popularity demonstrates both where New York City residents stand on Jews and Israel--becoming the most anti-Semitic big city in the country--and just how truly ignorant these voters really are.

The city is dead, has been dead for generations--that is why our parents moved us out in the early 1970s--and again, you get exactly who you vote for.

Thinking back, the city was starting to deteriorate 70 years ago, under Mayor Wagner, where the Dodgers and Giants called his bluff and moved to California.

That was the beginning, and it continued through Lindsay, Beame, Koch, Dinkins, Bloomberg, deBlasio and the current Mayor Adam's.

Giuliani--when he was a sane person--stemmed the tide, but it was brief and temporary.

There were some who called us every name in the book when my family, and thousands of others, moved out of New York City in the early 1970s.

The movement out of New York City was called "white flight," but more to the point, our parents saw the handwriting on the wall.

The city was teetering, and they wanted no part of it.

Now, New York City is dead, absolutely dead.

If this clown actually becomes mayor, you might as well hold the official funeral, because the people of New York City voted in the funeral director--yet are too ignorant, and quite frankly, too stupid, to know it.

Even at this stage of the race, for him to get this far, it should call out the alarm.

But it is almost like a falling tree in the forest; no one will hear the crash, not because they aren't there, but in this case, they refuse to listen.

Rant #3,725: Superman

Lots to tell everyone on a variety of subjects.

The Heat: It was 104 out there when i was in my car in Bethpage, Long Island... too hot for me, with my bad allergies. 

I spent the entire day in air conditioning in one place or another, and that is the only place for me with this heat.

The Body: I went to the urologist to have another procedure. This one was as invasive as it possibly could be. That is all I am going to say about it.

No disease found ... but I have two stones in my left kidney, and they must be obliterated before they can grow and do further damage.

So I have to get them "blasted" out ... no surgery, but I am waiting for a surgeon to contact me to make a date where this can be done.

I must be "Superman," because, in the past, I have taken a needle in my eye and now, a needle in my (fill in the blank), and I lived to talk about it.

Let's get this done; the sooner the better.

The Job Situation: Right after I came home from the urologist, there was no time to waste, and I took my son to a job fair at nearby Farmingdale College.

He gave out some resumes, received plenty of the usual doubletalk, but we received some names and numbers we can access.

Hopefully, our efforts will lead somewhere, and I have to say this: in some situations, it pays to open up your mouth, constructively, and I can truly say that my son and I did just that at this job fair.

The Job Situation, Part 2: After months of waiting, we finally were contacted for an assessment, where my son will be tested related to what he supposedly can and cannot do 

The first part of this is a Zoom call this Friday morning, so at least we have the ball rolling on that, finally.

Cuomo Concedes To Mamdani in NYC Mayotal Vote: All of am going to say about this right now is that if anyone ever doubted that New York City is dead, here is proof.

A very sad state of affairs, but onto the next round.

Bobby Sherman R.I.P.: What can I say about his passing? He put out some of the best pure pop records of the late 1960s and early 1970s, and I was a big fan of his, as I thought even his earlier records were quite good.

And his hair ... he had the best hair ever, and I should know, because I have no hair (on my head, at least).

And he left show biz on his own terms, did what he wanted to do, and never looked back.

I saw him in concert once, and while his hair had turned an older shade, his voice was still there, and he seemed to be having a lot of fun, as everyone in the audience did.

Another icon of my youth is gone, but his legacy are those incredible 45s he put out.

So yes, yesterday was a day for the ages ... and yes, I feel better already.

Rant #3,724: I Need You

Today, I have to go through that procedure I told you about yesterday.

Not fun, but hopefully, it will reveal what the problem is.

Keep me in your thoughts today.

Meanwhile, here is the next chapter of my novel.

 31

The day leading up to Abraham Lincoln Panim’s meeting with Ariel went quickly.

As was the norm now, he chose to walk to school rather than ride in the car with his mother. Not only was the walk good exercise, physically, but also was good exercise for his ego, as people continued to stare at him and his new good looks.

He didn’t stare back, but he knew what people were staring at.

Abraham Lincoln Panim arrived at school, was still being stared at by teachers and students alike, taught his class, was mooned over by several of his fellow teachers during lunch, and got through the day without a hitch.

He did not see his mother at the school that day, and he thought that maybe he was better off not seeing her, because of what had happened before.

“If she can’t handle my handsomeness, I guess that is her problem,” he thought to himself.

After his workday ended, Abraham Lincoln Panim walked home again, and prepared for his meeting with Ariel. As he lay on his bed, he continued to admire himself in the mirror when his mother came home in the early evening.

“Abraham Lincoln Panim, I’m home!” she said as she opened the door and it closed behind her.

“I’m in my room, mom,” he said. “But not for long, I have somewhere to go soon.”

“Abraham Lincoln Panim, I have something to tell you. That’s why I came home later than I normally do.”

“Sorry mom, I have to go,” he said, as he hurriedly moved past her and moved toward the door.

“We can speak later, I don’t have time now,” he said, as he rushed out the door, leaving his mother standing and shaking her head as the door closed behind him.

Abraham Lincoln Panim went to the park and to the very spot on the bench that he said he would be when he and Ariel last got together. He was a little early, but it gave him extra time to reflect on what he hoped would be a great time with her.

It also gave him extra time to preen and let people look at him, and people did just what he expected them to do.

Finally, after some time, he saw a figure in the distance, and as she came closer, he saw it was Ariel and Snuff.

She sat down next to Abraham Lincoln Panim, with her dog dutifully at her feet.

“Hi! I hope you didn’t wait too long for me?” she said.

“No, I have only been here a few minutes,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said, clenching his teeth at the white lie he just made. “Where might you like to go tonight?”

“I usually go to the corner diner on my street, right outside the park,” she replied. “The food is good there and not expensive, and they are very pet friendly with Snuff. I’ve gone there since I was a little kid, and they know what Snuff is there for. We can go there if you like.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim didn’t know where the diner was, but he said, “OK, just let me know where it is—“

“How about you follow me. I’m not that great on directions, anyway, so it would just be easier for you to follow me.”

“Sounds good to me—“

“I will take you there as part of my daily run. Do you jog yourself?”

“Well … I … don’t worry, I am sure I can keep up with you.”

“OK, you want to go now?”

“Why not?”

Abraham Lincoln Panim and Ariel got up from the bench, and Snuff also sat up on the ground, and Ariel began to run.

“Just follow me,” she said, as Abraham Lincoln Panim started to follow her. He realized that she meant what she said—she was running—and that he would have to run, too, to keep up with her.

He was not used to running, but he kept up with her, somewhat, as he moved into the near distance from him. As he followed her lead, he was running in the direction of the older woman who he had seen many times sitting on one of the benches. He saw her again in the distance, but as he approached, once again, she vanished from sight.

“Maybe I’ve been seeing things,” he thought to himself as he passed the bench where he thought he saw the older woman.

The run continued. Not only did he feel a bit fatigued, but the running was making him perspire, and it moved his hair out of place, so he kept moving his hair back where it should have been, which slowed him down as compared to Ariel and Snuff, who were way ahead of him, but still in sight.

After a few minutes, Ariel and Snuff reached the end of the park, and stopped on the pavement.

“Where are you?” she yelled, and Snuff turned around, pointing in the direction of Abraham Lincoln Panim, who finally caught up with her.

“I thought you said you could run?” she asked, laughing as she asked the question.

“Well, I can run, but I guess I can’t run as well as you can,” he replied, as he fixed his clothes and pushed his hair back to where it should be through huffs and puffs.

“I don’t look my best. I am sweaty and my hair is probably a mess. I won’t get too many looks looking like this,” he thought to himself.

The diner was across the street from the park, and he and Ariel and Snuff proceeded to prepare to cross the street.

“Do you need help crossing the street?” he asked Ariel, extending his arm before he answered.

“No, not me,” she replied. “Snuff takes real good care of me,” and as she said this, Abraham Lincoln Panim pulled his arm back to his side, and then used his hand to push his hair up on his head as he, Ariel and Snuff crossed the busy street and walked into the diner.

“Hi Ariel. How are you doing?” said a man at the front of the diner by the cash register.

“Charley, I am doing fine, and Snuff is doing fine too,” she said. “Oh, and I want you to meet Abraham Lincoln Panim. This is Charley, the owner of the diner. I have known him since I was a little kid.”

“Nice to meet you Charley,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said, extending his hand, the one that had been pushing back his hair after the run, to the man, who was about 70 and had white, balding hair.

The two shook hands, and Charley led them and Snuff to a table near the back of the full diner. As they walked to the table, Abraham Lincoln Panim could see out of the corner of his eyes that people were stopping their eating and their conversations and were staring at him as he walked to his destination.

“Even though I’m a mess, they still stare at me. Man, even the way I look, people still think I am so handsome … I love it!” he thought to himself.

“Here is your usual table, Ariel,” Charley said, as he pulled out the chair where Ariel was going to sit, with Snuff at her feet and Abraham Lincoln Panim sitting in the other chair.

“My, what a nice-looking boy your new boy friend is,” Charley said to Ariel as the two were seated. This made Abraham Lincoln Panim smile, and he primped a bit more as

“No, he is not my boyfriend,” Ariel replied.

“What happened to that other guy, what was his name, Brandon? What happened to him?

Ariel did not reply, and she hurriedly picked up the menu from behind the napkin holder. Abraham Lincoln Panim thought this was kind of odd, since Ariel could not see what was on the menu.

“Charley, let me have a cup of coffee, and Abraham Lincoln Panim, would I be able to get a cheese Danish too?

“You can get whatever you want,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said as he quickly looked over the menu, realizing that Ariel had asked for a cheese Danish and almost defiantly said, “The same for me too.”

“OK, and the usual for Snuff, I presume,” Charley said. Abraham Lincoln Panim looked up, not knowing what that meant as Charley walked away after the two placed their order.

“Listen, I’m sorry that what’s his name … Charley … brought up Brandon,” Abraham Lincoln Panim said to Ariel.

“No need to be sorry,” Ariel replied, fidgeting with the salt shaker as she spoke. “Charley has known me for ages. He was almost like a second father to me. He kind of took me under my wing, even more so than my parents did.

“He told me that I could do whatever I wanted to do in life, that blindness could allow me to see things in a different way than most people. I know he really cares for me, and I guess he wondered about Brandon, because we came here so often for a good amount of time. Forget it.”

Abraham Lincoln Panim heard what she said, but even being in the back of the diner did not stop people from looking up from what they were doing and staring at him. He knew he was being stared at, and while Ariel was talking, he continued to primp himself up.

“Abraham Lincoln Panim,” did you hear what I said?”

“Uh … yes … I did,” he replied as he had his fingers in his hair, continuing to put it back into place as people turned around and stared at him.

“I still can’t believe that people think I am so handsome, even when I don’t look my best,” he thought to himself. “Wow, if only they knew that just a few days ago, I was the boy with the rat face. Now, I am the most handsome man on the planet!”

Rant #3,723: Stand and Deliver

My son's bowling season ended this past Saturday, but more on that later.

He got a reprieve with his Friday night basketball, as they added an extra date, which will be this coming Friday.

Then one week off, and he goes right back to basketball on the next Friday, which is July 11.

Back to bowling.

My son's team ended up in fifth place, actually fourth place because there was a tie for second.

His team did quite well, since they didn't have one of their members for an extended time, due to a number of maladies.

That being the case, the team did well, with all of their players increasing their averages, my son by seven pins to 145, the eighth highest average in the league.

All told, he tied with seven others for the most games bowled (62).had the fourth highest pin total (9,006); was tied with two others for the eighth highest game bowled (201); and had the 10th highest two-game series (348).

He also had five turkeys, or three strikes in a row--once bowling four strikes in a row--which i believe was tied for the third highest total in the league.

He led his team in all the categories except high two-game series and high game (tied), so i would have to say that my son had a good season--

Capped by a nice 170 game in the last bowling game of the season.

The Nassau County Special Needs Unit of the Police Activity League offers a variety of activities for youngsters and younger adult special needs people, and the bowling and basketball groups that my son belongs to are under its aegis.

All skill levels are welcomed to these activities, all mental levels, too, and I have to tell you, you would be completely amazed at what the participants can do--a lot of them are quite athletic, and even those that aren't give it 1,000 percent each time out.

And a lot of the participants have been part of this program since they were children, so you can see their progression--athletically and socially--as many of them are in their late 20s through their 30s ... and even some in their 40s.

Honestly, I don't know what he would be doing if he didn't have these activities.

It gives him something to look forward to each and every week.

So all told, it was a good season, and we look forward to the 2025-2026 season, which will begin in September.

I am looking forward to that, but I am not looking forward to Tuesday, when I have to go through an early morning urological procedure to try to find out what is ailing me.

I hope the urologist can pinpoint exactly what it is, I really do.

So tomorrow's Rant will probably be a reading Rant.

Please keep me in your thoughts.