Woke up...and smelled the coffee...

Woke...like many words of generations...hip...groovy...far out...is actually in the rear view mirror...the associated harm some might feel it caused...that might take longer...but to use it as a campaign prelude...well...it's like Ron DeSantis is taking us all to Studio 54...but in the mid-80s...reopened...without relevancy...cancel culture and the over simplified "woke" do matter...but you know what else matters?...deeply rooted xenophobia...thinly veiled racism....anti Semitism... passed down as easily as eye color...from generation to generation...with most oblivious that their own behaviors are in direct opposition to what they claim to believe...let me tell you what scares me these days...aside from the entire world news broadcast every night...aside from the local news I scroll daily...what scares me right now...are book bans in libraries and school districts throughout this country...if you are thinking but wait...do children really need to read about these "things" so young...take a good look at the lists...they include many books that were...wait...on your damned required reading lists as a young student...in tandem with the book banning is the rise of groups like Moms for Liberty in Florida...on the surface, these are grassroots groups of mothers who want more involvement...more rights for parents...in the formation of school curriculum...and this sounds okay...on the surface...but they tend to circle back to "woke" and its dangers...and protect our children...from what exactly?...you see...that is wrapped in carefully worded rhetoric...Moms for Liberty has huge support from Casey DeSantis...their cause benefits from Ron's infringement on first amendment rights in education...and looking at their page...and researching...it's like a page out of The Handmaid's Tale...and they are all a bunch of commanders' wives...and Casey aspires to Jackie Kennedy...but is little more than Serena Joy...and Ron is the Republican's rising star...emerging from the swamp of lies he stirs so well...oh, Lord...woke...just give me the good old  70's...no money...no gas...no designer sneakers...no Twitter...just David Cassidy...just...I woke up in love this morning...

Would you like to ride in my beautiful balloon...

somewhere last week...between the painful to watch tragedy in Turkey and Syria...and the media circus surrounding all things Super Bowl...we started hearing about balloons...and seeing balloons...then watching special reports about shooting them down...then listening to people eviscerate the Biden administration...only to hear that there have been several balloons in the last few years floating over the U.S...under Trump's watch as well...reality is always crazier than fiction...this falls under "shit you can't make up"...speculation is rampant over what's inside...are these just lame spy missions from China?...is it Oz looking for Kansas?...or Kansas looking for a Rock and Roll Hall of Fame invite?...or is it the Wuhan bat who certainly is in need of fresh p.r.?...China accuses us of having flown at least 10 balloons there or some shit like that...we are in the school yard...finger pointing...circling...blood boiling...Putin is buying popcorn...but don't sweat it...you can always scroll and read the comments about Rihanna's Super Bowl Half Time show...about how it was boring or where were the collaborations...or...blah...blah...blah...she's pregnant...and from the looks of it...pretty far along...and she balanced herself on a sky high platform and made it look effortless...her critics can't even balance their asses on a rush hour E train...there is not an artist out there that the masses would agree on...we are all too cynical...too scared and too tired...we almost watched a rising young football star die on the field last month...and we roar at the giant flatscreen tv's and overeat and drink too much and bet what we don't have...all at the throne of a bloodthirsty sport...so...what to do deep in this winter of 2023...rustle up some spare change...donate to earthquake relief...if you've got school aged kids...keep lobbying for safety in team sports...and as for these balloons...just put Rihanna back on that platform...she's fierce and pregnant...she'll drop kick it to the heavens...like diamonds in the sky...

40 is the new...

40 is the new reality...40 mass shootings since the new year was ushered in...40...a number used frequently in Scripture...both Old and New Testament...if Moses were up on Mount Sinai today...and knew of the carnage...would he bother coming down?...what would Jesus say to his disciples after the resurrection if he saw the anguish?...would faith be enough?...what world have we fashioned for next generations?...if we get there...I realized after the second shooting in California...that my mind cannot retain the details of one massacre when it is quickly supplanted by the next...I felt that happening the last few years...particularly when we emerged from Covid quarantine to an angry and violent society...that the sheer horror of it all would need to be buried...and the need to flip the TV channel to something mindless and numbing was overwhelming...I finally understood why the Bachelor franchise lives on...why so many cheer on the WWE...we don't want to think...it has become too painful...instead we watch from the safety of an old worn couch...and text our friends...ignore the news flashes on phones...or glance quickly and feel perverse comfort if it's happening in another state...miles away...I am often reminded these days of something my mom said to me years ago...always watch something funny before bed...the news will give you nightmares...at 10:59 pm the local networks brag of breaking news...Seinfeld, anyone?

you say you want a resolution...

the best way to keep a resolution is not to make one...cynical?...maybe, but in reality, not so much...let's face it...some old tradition...or bubbe meise...has us drafting lists the last week of December...as we stuff our faces and probably break that last New Year's list in one Netflix binge...and think about this...we make lists of the practical and ethereal...and then head into January...where, at least here in the northeast, we face cold bleak weather...little sunlight...when our only holiday weekend is Martin Luther King Day...where we pause and think about a wonderful man...murdered for most likely half of what you aspire to on that list...ouch...so what to do...remain the cynic?...sprinkle a list with platitudes?...here is what I think...as I sit here this last day of 2022...straddling the old and new...I resolve to do the small things...hold open a door...smile at a complete stranger, and savor the return smile if it happens...let the woman with the screaming toddler go ahead of me on line in the supermarket...she is one "maaaa" away from CPS...refrain from giving the middle finger to the first asshole who cuts me off in January...start with these small things...tackle what gives life meaning later...like maybe in spring...when it's daylight more than 30 minutes...but whatever you bring forward into 2023...and leave behind...however large, or small, your goals are...may 2023 be a healthy and blessed one...and remember, when it gets hard...and it often does...remember you are not George Santos...and smile

Don't You Look Back...

 2022 is taking the songstresses...the voices...the lyricists...the background of my youth...Loretta Lynn...I will admit it was Sissy Spacek in "Coal Miner's Daughter" that sparked interest in her life...her music...her spirit...a feminist in so many ways she would deny...but those lyrics...always reminds me of what writers hear...write what you know...and she did...her songs were funny, sassy and poignant...her voice, unmistakable...the Queen of Country...the new crop of bleached-blonde wannabees should take a lesson...Irene Cara...her voice armed with pain and promise...her career hit pinnacles early...there should have been more...much more...her former managers should hang their heads...and watch footage of her singing "Out Here On My Own"...and weep...Christine McVie...the sultry singer of Fleetwood Mac...much of her career playing second fiddle to Stevie Nicks...and not...her presence was commanding...and her absence glaring when she chose not to tour in later years...the pain in her back not helped by standing over the keyboards for years...the list of Fleetwood Mac's hits penned by her is astounding...people have said...well, she was 79...not much comfort to this 62-year-old...I will always remember her low purr in "Over My Head"...oh, yes, Ms. McVie...it sure felt nice...

the banshees of westbury

a banshee, by definition, is a female spirit in Gaelic folklore whose appearance or wailing warns a family that one of them will soon die...I went to the movies today...to my happy place...the lights dimming...the previews appearing...the M&M's disappearing...and then darkness, and the movie...today's choice...The Banshees of Inisherin...or maybe should be subtitled...the quiet desperation of ordinary lives...we were about 5 minutes into the movie when I heard it...at the end of my row to the right...we were only 10 souls in that theater...but I hit the jackpot...a couple sitting there...talking back and forth...like how should I put this...oh, as Colin Farrell would say in the movie...like they were in their own feckin' living room...I tried to ignore it...concentrated on the plot...and how amazingly good Colin looked in what could be described as 1923 Irish schmattas...but it was distracting...and I thought...I'm gonna lose it...wail like a...like a banshee...but I didn't...sadly realizing that this happens...this lack of courtesy...on a daily basis...it happened before covid...it is worse now...it happens in movie theaters...and in Broadway theaters...and then your seat costs a kidney...it is everywhere...and the saddest part...most people don't realize they are intruding on your experience...they have forgotten how to truly appreciate theirs...so when the movie was over...and they left...talking the whole time...I stayed...let the credits roll and the haunting music wash over me...the writer's vision wash over me...before leaving the theater...into the quiet desperation of ordinary life...

"You want to go where everybody knows your name"...

Columbus Day...or Indigenous Peoples Day 2022...running some errands on a glorious October afternoon...we found ourselves having lunch at Center Coffee Shop in Plainview...decades ago, I was there many a time...meeting Nassau County friends when I lived out in Dix Hills...unglamorous was being kind...noisy was being understated...but, your kid could impale themselves on the dirty floor in the back screaming...or drop seventy-five fries on the floor and who would care?...today, it was relatively crowded...and they were woefully unprepared for this...perhaps they forgot it was a holiday...but we shrugged it off...only one waitress...gave us menus...disappeared...we felt bad...there were so many tables of orders...we ended up yelling our order to the cook behind the counter...when the waitress came back everything was in reverse...cleaned the table under the menus...slapped down napkins...a few minutes later silverware...it was like a scene in a movie...played out between the gleeful hello's from everyone who came in...they all knew the cooks...the woman at the register...and each other...in today's hurried, large world, there is a sweetness to this...and the conversations...the older couple behind me...ordering a salad...the waitress shouting to the cook...chop the salad...in another minute I expected to hear that old scene from vintage Saturday Night Live..."cheeseburger, cheeseburger, cheeseburger"...then a friend of theirs paused to chat en route to his table..."hey, kid, how are you doing?" "I go into Mt. Sinai next week"...now, we all knew...but the bacon was crisp, the iced coffee just right, and Mike's fries...yeah, I stole a few...crispy...well then, the diet starts tomorrow...and I thought...I will not wait this long again to stop in... and I'll have my sandwich with a side of sweet memories...