Things don't always happen the way we'd like them to, otherwise most of this would have been published a couple of days ago. We've got more on "customer service", illegal mind boggling and moms from Hell. I will try to leave you laughing, or at least smiling.
May 31st my internet went down. (their fault, not mine) As with the phone company and other "public utilities" it's amazing how slow they are to respond to your request for service but how quick they can shut you off for late payment. I had a friend whose cable TV was going to be turned off for seventy-five cents. I told him he should have either paid in pennies or with a check made out on a rock (perfectly legal if there are sufficient funds to cover it.)
My eyeglass problem has been solved thanks to a small store on Second Avenue between Twenty-Fifth and Twenty-Fourth Street. While I never got any satisfaction from Cohen's Vision Center (they never even answered my letter) or another Columbia area optometrist, this gentleman understood that some of us wear glasses to see, and charged me only forty nine dollars for the frames. Ever notice the promises the big chains make when they move into a community and what happens when they get rid of the small guys? Me too.
When I mentioned illegal mind boggling I wasn't talking about the drugs we consumed back in the sixties. Instead I was referring to a group of Manhattan and Queens car wash employees who hired a lawyer to sue their employer for unpaid wages as they were paid less than minimum. Usually I'd back any employees doing this, but this leaves an incredibly bad taste in my mouth, as the employees I'm talking about are all illegals. Points for sheer brass balls, but I want to know what's going to happen if these guys win. Do they intend to pay the government back taxes. Ship these guys back to Mexico and their employer back to India. The illegal here is our increasingly put upon national symbol.
Bill Cosby once told an unruly child-I brought you into this world and I can take you out of it and make another just like you. He's got nothing on the Uptown Mommies I've been observing lately. Strollers are likely to be used as traffic indicators, with the helpless child pushed out into the street to see if there are any oncoming vehicles. If the child's still there, they cross. We've got two great parks blocks from where I work, but mothers still insist on letting their children scooter among the bicycles and pedestrians on Broadway. When one child fell off his scooter I chastised the mother for not having the child wear a helmet. I was bluntly told to mind my own business. None of these women can compete with the twenty-ish something hippie mom talking away on her cell while her son tugged at her dress to get her attention. Failing to, he reached into her grocery bag, pulled out an apple, "cleaned" it in a dirty puddle and took a big bite out of it. While I wanted to tell her, I figured if her couldn't get her attention, how could I.
Sometimes New York papers can read like the Enguirer. While they'll never reach the heights of"Headless Body Found In Topless Bar" the resent "City Lost My Sister's Brain" comes close, right?
Showing posts with label social critique. Show all posts
Showing posts with label social critique. Show all posts
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Sunday, April 1, 2012
MOMMIE DEAREST AND OTHER NEW YORK CREATURES
After spending a good part of my working day watching Columbia kids walk around staring at I-phones and other electronic gizmos I finally figured out what they're all reading. It's a set of instructions-left foot, right foot, repeat. Don't forget to breath while you're walking."
A couple of blogs ago I spoke of mind-boggling. Turns out I hadn't seen anything yet. A group of illegals working in New York area car washes are planning to sue the firm's owner because they're working for less than minimum wage. They're going to hire an attorney and going through all legal motions. What I (an lots of others) would like to know is, are they going to pay back taxes? What part of illegal don't they understand?
Bill Cosby used to have a skit where he chastised an unruly child by saying-I'll disown you and make another just like you. Wonder what he'd do with modern mothers, some of whom make "Mommie Dearest" look like Mother Of The Year. I've watched mothers (and fathers) dangle their children over subway tracks.Strollers are used to check for oncoming traffic as mothers edge out into the streets.If the stroller isn't swept away by traffic it's okay to cross.
I wonder if some of these mothers are mentally ready to have kids. Riverside and Central Park are mere blocks away, yet these mothers let their children race strollers up and down the street with little regard for pedestrians. When I told one mother whose child took a header on a stroller that she should have been wearing a helmet I was told to "mind my own business". I have cleaned up language for the sensibilities of my audience.
Place of honor has to go to the
Monday, March 26, 2012
SAVE OUR CITY (IMPEACH MIKE!)
Welcome to another of my wide-eyed glimpses of what surrounds me. Today we're going to get our minds boggled. Believe you me, this'll really knock you for a loop.
In an incredible display of PC gone wild, our amazing educrats have banned many subjects from New York City English, social studies and science tests. Imagine, if you possibly can, a social studies test that doesn't mention war, terrorism or homelessness (among others). Budding Einsteins have to get by without mentioning dinosaurs or evolution. For the rest of us religion,holidays, video games, sports or TV. Whatever will we talk about around the water cooler?
New York Post Education Reporter Yoav Gonen states that these new tests are designed so as not to hurt anybody's feelings. To which I have to ask, does being dumber count? That's the only real result we'll see from these tests, which give students no concept of the real world.
That seems to be the legacy Mayor Megabucks seems to be intent on leaving New York politics with. Not content with turning New York into a second-rate Paris (as a first-rate New York we were better than anybody else)Mayor Mommy has used his illegal third term to micromanage such ridiculous ideas as how much salt or other substances YOU put into YOUR body (can't wait for the diet police to knock on our doors) and the establishment of our beloved Deuce (42nd Street for everybody else)into a midwestern mall. New Yawkers knew how to navigate the "terrors" of the Deuce to check out the double features, Sam Goody's and the other pleasures afforded by 42nd Street. I don't know about my fellow residents, but once was more than enough on the new revamped 42nd Street.
You have to wonder about the sanity of a man who bans smoking in public parks because it's bad for one's health, and then sets up islands with tables and chairs in the middle of the streets. I don't know about you, but I'd rather take my chances with second hand cigarette smoke than with the exhaust from New York traffic, thank you very much.
For all Mayor Mike's vaunted self-lauding changes, I notice the potholes on 107th between Broadway and Amsterdam have been there for over a year. What's the matter, Mike? A heavily Spanish area isn't good for your image?
Unfortunately I can't blame Mike for the proliferation of New York's official animal, the rat. Watching them run through the subway rivers or among the garbage cans around 107th is a thrill you won't get from the Bronx Zoo.
Let me leave you with words for mayor wannabe John Liu. Considering the legal woes of most New York politicians Comptroller Liu would fit right in as mayor of our fine city. To his financial advisor, who stated that Liu was good for "his" people and gave them pride, may I ask this deluded 25 year old to look around. This isn't Bejing, sweetheart. This is NEW YORK, despite our politicians, still the greatest city on the Earth.
In an incredible display of PC gone wild, our amazing educrats have banned many subjects from New York City English, social studies and science tests. Imagine, if you possibly can, a social studies test that doesn't mention war, terrorism or homelessness (among others). Budding Einsteins have to get by without mentioning dinosaurs or evolution. For the rest of us religion,holidays, video games, sports or TV. Whatever will we talk about around the water cooler?
New York Post Education Reporter Yoav Gonen states that these new tests are designed so as not to hurt anybody's feelings. To which I have to ask, does being dumber count? That's the only real result we'll see from these tests, which give students no concept of the real world.
That seems to be the legacy Mayor Megabucks seems to be intent on leaving New York politics with. Not content with turning New York into a second-rate Paris (as a first-rate New York we were better than anybody else)Mayor Mommy has used his illegal third term to micromanage such ridiculous ideas as how much salt or other substances YOU put into YOUR body (can't wait for the diet police to knock on our doors) and the establishment of our beloved Deuce (42nd Street for everybody else)into a midwestern mall. New Yawkers knew how to navigate the "terrors" of the Deuce to check out the double features, Sam Goody's and the other pleasures afforded by 42nd Street. I don't know about my fellow residents, but once was more than enough on the new revamped 42nd Street.
You have to wonder about the sanity of a man who bans smoking in public parks because it's bad for one's health, and then sets up islands with tables and chairs in the middle of the streets. I don't know about you, but I'd rather take my chances with second hand cigarette smoke than with the exhaust from New York traffic, thank you very much.
For all Mayor Mike's vaunted self-lauding changes, I notice the potholes on 107th between Broadway and Amsterdam have been there for over a year. What's the matter, Mike? A heavily Spanish area isn't good for your image?
Unfortunately I can't blame Mike for the proliferation of New York's official animal, the rat. Watching them run through the subway rivers or among the garbage cans around 107th is a thrill you won't get from the Bronx Zoo.
Let me leave you with words for mayor wannabe John Liu. Considering the legal woes of most New York politicians Comptroller Liu would fit right in as mayor of our fine city. To his financial advisor, who stated that Liu was good for "his" people and gave them pride, may I ask this deluded 25 year old to look around. This isn't Bejing, sweetheart. This is NEW YORK, despite our politicians, still the greatest city on the Earth.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Sharpton, Santorum And Other Diseases
Simon and Garfunkel's "Mrs. Robinson" has one line that's chillingly relevant these days-"going to the candidate's debate...laugh about it, shout about it, when you got to choose. Any way you look at it you lose." That's a perfect description of todays' presidential races-on the one hand you've got somebody who was elected because he wasn't George Bush and on the other side a group of religious nutcases who would make Christianity the state religion.
Timothy Dolan. He's almost a enigma. He seems like the kind of guy I'd hang out with, have a beer with, but then he gets on the phone to Obama and threatens him about the health plan by saying-I've got all these followers ready to vote against you. That creates two problems for the Bishop.
First is that the Church's higher-ups (and lower downs) are all male. They've got no right to tell a woman what to do with her body. When one of the priests or bishops get pregnant then they can open their mouths. But the Church believes that "suffer the little children" means the sexual maltreatment of little boys. They're more concerned about covering up their priests' escapades then giving women any rights.
The Church wants no government interference with their religion. That's cool. It's in the Constitution. But so is the converse. Whenever Dolan tries to force the government to do something by mentioning the amount of voters they've got they should be reminded they're a no-taxable institution, but that could change. Can you imagine the money taxing the Church could bring in?
A letter in todays' Post brought up a point I never thought of, and I don't believe too many have. One of the reasons the Church is so against contraception is that more babies=more Catholics=more voters=more money. Or is somebody being paranoid? Nah.
Reverend. That's a term of respect for a religious figure. That's one thing I'll rarely (if ever) have for Al Sharpton. He first came to public attention during the infamous Tawana Brawley case, which now seems the first of his public scams. I was more than a little surprised when I found a Columbia senior didn't know who Tawana Brawley was. Not that Sharpton or Maddox really wants it nosed around. It's a sore point, like Sean Combs' Bronx rap concert where I believe at least nine died. (You might know him better as Puffy or P. Diddy. Whatever.)
Let's talk of crime. We're in New York. There's a lot of it around. Boston's got a lot also. Dennis Lehane's made a career out of it. In his mystery "A Drink Before The War" he brings up an interesting point. How come white on black murders are hate crimes, but not the obverse? We make a big thing of Amadou Diello or Sean Bell, but not the Columbia student who was hit by a car after being chased into 125th Street by a gang of black kids shouting "get whitey."
Before we damn Sharpton let's start with the community he "represents" (what he represents is Al Sharpton, but I think you knew that). Blacks comment on police profiling and random searches, and then complain that nobody's doing enough to stop the spate of young blacks being killed by other young blacks. A young kid tries to stop two friends from throwing a cart onto somebody's head, and his family gets death threats and he's branded a "snitch" in school. How fast will this viewpoint change when one of theirs is gunned down? How fast can you blink?
Now back to Fat Al. You see him at protests when a black youth is killed by a cop or a group of whits but never the obverse. To me this' the sign of a self-promoting hate monger.If Sharpton truly deserves Reverend in front of his name he'll be at the next funeral of an officer killed by a black, the funeral of a white killed by a black or marching against black on black crime. Till then, I say to the black community, when you need police help don't call the cops, call "Fat" Al Sharpton.
Now back to Sanitarium, or however you pronounce this clown's name. These religious right Republicans are truly dangerous, as they command legions of otherwise sane Americans. As I've said before, whenever you wave the Good Book (and we've all got one) otherwise normal people froth at the mouth and soil their carpets. The Republicans have turned this election into one more focused on religion than whatever's ailing this nation, and I'm one of the long religion. But I'll remind Sanitation (I love his name!) that Christianity is just a sect, we took care (w/ Roman help) of a reform rebel rabbi a few thousand years ago, and a religious Republican nut case won't be any harder.
Timothy Dolan. He's almost a enigma. He seems like the kind of guy I'd hang out with, have a beer with, but then he gets on the phone to Obama and threatens him about the health plan by saying-I've got all these followers ready to vote against you. That creates two problems for the Bishop.
First is that the Church's higher-ups (and lower downs) are all male. They've got no right to tell a woman what to do with her body. When one of the priests or bishops get pregnant then they can open their mouths. But the Church believes that "suffer the little children" means the sexual maltreatment of little boys. They're more concerned about covering up their priests' escapades then giving women any rights.
The Church wants no government interference with their religion. That's cool. It's in the Constitution. But so is the converse. Whenever Dolan tries to force the government to do something by mentioning the amount of voters they've got they should be reminded they're a no-taxable institution, but that could change. Can you imagine the money taxing the Church could bring in?
A letter in todays' Post brought up a point I never thought of, and I don't believe too many have. One of the reasons the Church is so against contraception is that more babies=more Catholics=more voters=more money. Or is somebody being paranoid? Nah.
Reverend. That's a term of respect for a religious figure. That's one thing I'll rarely (if ever) have for Al Sharpton. He first came to public attention during the infamous Tawana Brawley case, which now seems the first of his public scams. I was more than a little surprised when I found a Columbia senior didn't know who Tawana Brawley was. Not that Sharpton or Maddox really wants it nosed around. It's a sore point, like Sean Combs' Bronx rap concert where I believe at least nine died. (You might know him better as Puffy or P. Diddy. Whatever.)
Let's talk of crime. We're in New York. There's a lot of it around. Boston's got a lot also. Dennis Lehane's made a career out of it. In his mystery "A Drink Before The War" he brings up an interesting point. How come white on black murders are hate crimes, but not the obverse? We make a big thing of Amadou Diello or Sean Bell, but not the Columbia student who was hit by a car after being chased into 125th Street by a gang of black kids shouting "get whitey."
Before we damn Sharpton let's start with the community he "represents" (what he represents is Al Sharpton, but I think you knew that). Blacks comment on police profiling and random searches, and then complain that nobody's doing enough to stop the spate of young blacks being killed by other young blacks. A young kid tries to stop two friends from throwing a cart onto somebody's head, and his family gets death threats and he's branded a "snitch" in school. How fast will this viewpoint change when one of theirs is gunned down? How fast can you blink?
Now back to Fat Al. You see him at protests when a black youth is killed by a cop or a group of whits but never the obverse. To me this' the sign of a self-promoting hate monger.If Sharpton truly deserves Reverend in front of his name he'll be at the next funeral of an officer killed by a black, the funeral of a white killed by a black or marching against black on black crime. Till then, I say to the black community, when you need police help don't call the cops, call "Fat" Al Sharpton.
Now back to Sanitarium, or however you pronounce this clown's name. These religious right Republicans are truly dangerous, as they command legions of otherwise sane Americans. As I've said before, whenever you wave the Good Book (and we've all got one) otherwise normal people froth at the mouth and soil their carpets. The Republicans have turned this election into one more focused on religion than whatever's ailing this nation, and I'm one of the long religion. But I'll remind Sanitation (I love his name!) that Christianity is just a sect, we took care (w/ Roman help) of a reform rebel rabbi a few thousand years ago, and a religious Republican nut case won't be any harder.
Monday, March 19, 2012
ST. DRUNK'S DAY
If I was Saint Patrick I'd be ashamed to have this called my holiday. Where other ethnic groups call attention to what they've accomplished this seems to be a day which celebrates getting out and getting smashed. Case in point.
The streets where I live are half the width of those on the Upper West Side. Between 28th and 25th there must be 30 bars, each of which has tables out. On St. Patty's these bars are filled to overflowing with almost legal kids, most of whom have bottles and glasses in their hands, in violation of the law. One bar on 28th and 3rd looks like the Columbia front four minus brains, and they're accosting everybody within range that's not wearing green. As I try to pass them with 2 bags of groceries one knocks my glasses off and steps on them, breaking them in two. I bend down to pick up the pieces and grab Paddy by the balls. SQUEEZE. Then I get up and stumble inside. Talking to the bartender has no effect, and he insists the manager isn't there. I go outside, and my playmates aren't there.
Across the street there's a police van with four officers. I cross, because it's my street. One cop looks at my bloody face and asks what happened. I tell him and volunteer to go with them. They say they can't do a thing about it, 'because it's Saint Patrick's Day. I thank the, and walk away, thinking how we maligned pigs in the 60s by naming cops after them, because pigs are nice animals.
I'll go on record as saying this holiday makes the fabled West Indian Parade and the Puerto Rican Day Parade look like tranquil walks in the park.
The streets where I live are half the width of those on the Upper West Side. Between 28th and 25th there must be 30 bars, each of which has tables out. On St. Patty's these bars are filled to overflowing with almost legal kids, most of whom have bottles and glasses in their hands, in violation of the law. One bar on 28th and 3rd looks like the Columbia front four minus brains, and they're accosting everybody within range that's not wearing green. As I try to pass them with 2 bags of groceries one knocks my glasses off and steps on them, breaking them in two. I bend down to pick up the pieces and grab Paddy by the balls. SQUEEZE. Then I get up and stumble inside. Talking to the bartender has no effect, and he insists the manager isn't there. I go outside, and my playmates aren't there.
Across the street there's a police van with four officers. I cross, because it's my street. One cop looks at my bloody face and asks what happened. I tell him and volunteer to go with them. They say they can't do a thing about it, 'because it's Saint Patrick's Day. I thank the, and walk away, thinking how we maligned pigs in the 60s by naming cops after them, because pigs are nice animals.
I'll go on record as saying this holiday makes the fabled West Indian Parade and the Puerto Rican Day Parade look like tranquil walks in the park.
Saturday, August 7, 2010
FOUR BASS DRUMS!
Songs are becoming golden oldies faster than ever in the all-new, ever-changing AC (After Computer) world. World-shakers such as the Beatles or Beethoven are relegated to sound bytes in computers or questions in trivia quizzes, while American Idol stars are replaced at an ever faster rate. As media moves faster and pop culture frantically tries to keep pace we find more of our memories becoming obsolete. Society moves forward, but at what price?
Recently I was wearing my old, comfortable WMCA Good Guys sweat shirt, a scruffy but clean grey with Peter Noone's face thereon. (If I mentioned he was a member of Herman's Hermits would it help?) I apent more time explaining who he, and they, were rather than doing the shopping I went out for. Luckily nobody saw the Dick Clark medallion I was wearing, for while more people might know the Dorian Grey-like host of American Bandstand and Times Square broadcasts, I'd just as probably have to spend more time explaining it.
Growing up nowadays means you missed the Golden Age of rock and roll radio. Bedtime meant you stayed under the covers with the radio on your ear, listening to the Beatles, Louis Armstrong, The Monkees, Aretha Franklin, The Temps, Ella Fitzgerald and anything else the jocks decided to throw at you between pimple cream ads and radio spots for whatever groovy group was in town that weekend. There wasn't any compartmentalization of bands due to the music they played or any other reason. It was good, it was played. The jocks were like old friends talking about the bands, and they'd do guest appearances at neighborhood schools. As FM radio gradually took over we acquired new musical guides such as Pete Fornatelle and Allison "Nightbird" Steele, but we also got a sense of what music was "hip" and what wasn't. I'd still buy Monkees albums, but I'd hide them between the Beatles and Doors records.
Rock and roll TV was a hell of a lot more fun before the advent of music videos. Ed Sullivision, excuse me, Ed Sullivan, might have had Topo Gigo The Talking Mouse, but he also had the Beatles, Stones, Doors and lots of other bands. The Beatles' Sullivan appearance was one of the most watched television events ever, and who can forget both the Stones and Doors trying to see what they could get away with lyrics-wise. It's fairly safe to say most of America grew up musically with Ed Sullivan's "really big shew."
I'm too young to remember Dick Clark's "American Bandstand"'s Philadelphia origins with teen idols such as Bobby Rydell, Frankie Avalon and the other suave Italians, but the show did give me at least one lasting memory. I hadn't heard of them before, but the mighty Bob Seger System was there to promote "Noah", probably playing "Lucifer" or "Big River". Seger had a reverse Gibson Firebird painted like the American flag and drummer Pep Perrine had four (!!) bass drums, two mounted on poles above his head. He played them too!
Kids nowadays won't remember them, and probably their parent won't, but the 45s! Incredible covers-Beatles, Stones, Lovin' Spoonful, Creedence. I remember taking a portable phono down to Van Cortlandt Park and lazing in the sun with a name long forgotten blonde whose mom was trying to match myself and her daughter. As the song says, memories are made of this.
Recently I was wearing my old, comfortable WMCA Good Guys sweat shirt, a scruffy but clean grey with Peter Noone's face thereon. (If I mentioned he was a member of Herman's Hermits would it help?) I apent more time explaining who he, and they, were rather than doing the shopping I went out for. Luckily nobody saw the Dick Clark medallion I was wearing, for while more people might know the Dorian Grey-like host of American Bandstand and Times Square broadcasts, I'd just as probably have to spend more time explaining it.
Growing up nowadays means you missed the Golden Age of rock and roll radio. Bedtime meant you stayed under the covers with the radio on your ear, listening to the Beatles, Louis Armstrong, The Monkees, Aretha Franklin, The Temps, Ella Fitzgerald and anything else the jocks decided to throw at you between pimple cream ads and radio spots for whatever groovy group was in town that weekend. There wasn't any compartmentalization of bands due to the music they played or any other reason. It was good, it was played. The jocks were like old friends talking about the bands, and they'd do guest appearances at neighborhood schools. As FM radio gradually took over we acquired new musical guides such as Pete Fornatelle and Allison "Nightbird" Steele, but we also got a sense of what music was "hip" and what wasn't. I'd still buy Monkees albums, but I'd hide them between the Beatles and Doors records.
Rock and roll TV was a hell of a lot more fun before the advent of music videos. Ed Sullivision, excuse me, Ed Sullivan, might have had Topo Gigo The Talking Mouse, but he also had the Beatles, Stones, Doors and lots of other bands. The Beatles' Sullivan appearance was one of the most watched television events ever, and who can forget both the Stones and Doors trying to see what they could get away with lyrics-wise. It's fairly safe to say most of America grew up musically with Ed Sullivan's "really big shew."
I'm too young to remember Dick Clark's "American Bandstand"'s Philadelphia origins with teen idols such as Bobby Rydell, Frankie Avalon and the other suave Italians, but the show did give me at least one lasting memory. I hadn't heard of them before, but the mighty Bob Seger System was there to promote "Noah", probably playing "Lucifer" or "Big River". Seger had a reverse Gibson Firebird painted like the American flag and drummer Pep Perrine had four (!!) bass drums, two mounted on poles above his head. He played them too!
Kids nowadays won't remember them, and probably their parent won't, but the 45s! Incredible covers-Beatles, Stones, Lovin' Spoonful, Creedence. I remember taking a portable phono down to Van Cortlandt Park and lazing in the sun with a name long forgotten blonde whose mom was trying to match myself and her daughter. As the song says, memories are made of this.
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