A Toast To A Married Couple

 

There is always a reason for events to occur. We may not be privy to the Master Plan, but we try to manage these events as they are presented. This day, we celebrate one of these events.

 Fifty-three years ago, two people met on a school yard in Queens County, New York. At the time, the event was insignificant to the participants hecause neither one thought anything of an ice cream cone, other than perhaps as it related to a laundry or dry-cleaning bill. Little did either one know at the time that the ice cream cone would lead to a “Hello", which led to a walk, perhaps from the school to her house, to a Sunday afternoon poker game with her father, to a kiss under a lamppost, to six children, fourteen grandchildren. And countless great-grandchildren. Little did they know. Events.

As they moved through the remaining years of the 1940's, they knew that their destinies were intended to be shared, as best as possible under the Master Plan. They tried hard to manage the events leading to a day, a mere fifty years ago today, almost a lifetime to some, more than a lifetime to others. But, of course, the Master Plan was waiting for them to seize upon the events of that day, as they stood at the altar of Saint Anthony of Padua Roman Catholic Church, in Ozone Park at about four o'clock that Sunday afternoon. Events.

 Soon they were married, but before they were married one year, they were forced to separate, he to Georgia, she to Ozone Park, because of a little appendage on the map of the world called Korea. But of course, she was not alone. She carried within her a piece of him that he had given her before he left. And five months later, when she flew to him, it was obvious what she carried. Events.

 And by Friday night, May 11, they were really no longer two. Instead, they had become one. Keep in mind, that in reality, they became one many more times after that first time. All because of an ice cream cone. Events.

 Their lives together, even when they were apart, were held together by an event that took place fifty years ago. Some of the people who were there then, or who were there to witness a part of their lives together along the way, both friends and family, are not here now, either by circumstance or by death. But those people are here in spirit because these two people touched the lives of Many. Events.

 Those people who have affected and have been affected by these celebrants include, but certainly are not limited to Albert, Fortunata, Annie and Mike, Katie, Billy and George, Anna. Joe, Rita, Tom, Rose, Eddie and Katty. Loretta, Don and Florence. Marian and Josephine. Even Father Kenny. Others include Joy. Frank, Matty and Betty. Lois and Carmine. Eileen and Joe. Sal and Louise. Sophie and Andrew. Richard. Rita, Gerry and Venard. Events.

 But the people who are in this room this day are the people they wanted to have be with them as they renewed their vows they took so long ago. These witnesses have come because of the love they have shared with these celebrants and the love they continue to share as time moves forward to another series of destinies. Events.

 So please raise your glasses, whether they contain wine, beer, soda or water. To Nancy and Frank, I wish you Salute, Sto’lat, Schlanka, Cent’anni. To many more years of love and happiness as you share your remaining time together here, knowing that those who you love and those who love you wish for you this EVENTFUL day, the promise of eternal love to be shared by each of you.

 Forever and Always.

Prologue from my book Life Is But A Dream.

Originally Dated: October 2, 1999, Selden, New York Nancy and Frank’s Golden Anniversary

 Restated: July 24, 2020, Holbrook, New York at my book publication, Life Is But A Dream

 December 6, 2023 the seventy-seventh anniversary of their meeting for the first time in John Adams High School, Ozine Park, NY

 

Sixty Years and Counting

 

Where were you the day America lost its innocence? I was in the principal’s office at Our Lady of Victory school when the news bulletin flashed at 1:30 and then Walter Cronkite appeared on the screen to report that President Kennedy was shot. I hadn’t finished my science fair project and I was waiting for the principal to admonish me for my failure to get it done timely.

 By 2PM, it didn’t matter. JFK had died.

 It was a somber weekend, for sure. The heavens opened and poured all day Saturday, from Long Island to Washington. For a twelve-year-old kid, up to that point, it was the saddest and most depressing day in my life.

 Sunday was better. It was a brisk, sunny, fall morning as I walked to OLV, where I served the ten o’clock Mass at my local parish. When I got home, my parents were watching the continuing coverage which was transpiring in Washington and Dallas. My Dad put the football game on the radio as a distraction. When Oswald died after Ruby shot him, the cheer from the crowd was deafening on that old AM radio.

On Monday, November 25, from sunrise to late that night, we watched the funeral, the walking procession with the riderless horse from the White House to the Church to Arlington National Cemetery and back to the White House, where many world leaders and dignitaries paid their respects. It was a truly sad day. And our country has not been the same since.

Sixty years have elapsed since November 22, 1963 and we are no closer to solving this crime than the day it was committed. With all the technology we have developed, and all the theories, conspiracy or forthright, we have heard, our government is unwilling to release the information surrounding this tragedy for us to finally put it all to rest. Why? Do certain people fear that something will be exposed which might be embarrassing to them? Or criminal?

So many of the actors in this event are now dead. But the agencies where they worked still exist. Obviously, Parkland Hospital is still in Dallas and so is the Texas School Book Depository. The administrators of those facilities have nothing to fear in any investigation of the actions done that day by their predecessors or employees.                                                                                           

But what about the government of the United States? Can its agencies lay claim to the same? The FBI, the CIA, the Secret Service -  are these entities’ hands clean and pure? Or the Congress? Yes, they have on occasion pronounced that committees were formed to investigate Kennedy’s assassination. But nothing of any import has ever been released. Why not?

The same is true with every President’s administration since Johnson. He proclaimed via executive order that the records would be sealed until 2039, seventy-five years after the Warren Commission completed its work. And no President since then has had the guts to write an executive order to override this decision. Why? Executive orders are not law under the Constitution.

Not long after the Kennedy assassination, Mark Lane wrote a book called Executive Action, which provided an excellent theory how and why JFK was murdered. This was written in 1966 or 1967 and the movie of the same name, was released in 1973. This was probably the earliest of the thousands of conspiracy theories espoused by many since then.

Since then, we are no closer to knowing the why for JFK’s death.

The question which we all should be asking this many years later, to paraphrase Senator Howard Baker of his question to Watergate witnesses, is: What did the government know and when did it know it? Perhaps, the next President will have the balls to write and declare an executive order to overturn Johnson’s coverup order and get the answers to all the questions surrounding this terrible day.

We will never recover the innocence we had on November 21, 1963 and lost on November 22, 1963. But for our posterity, we can be proud that we tried.

Then, maybe, finally, John F. Kennedy will be able to rest in peace.  Amen.

 

Happy Milestone Birthday, Dear Sister

 

Today, my sister Kathy would have been seventy. On September 1, we received an invitation from her daughter Kristen for a surprise party she was planning when Kathy’s surviving sibs (Tim passed in 2020) all would be in New York and together for the first time since our Mom had passed in 2019.

Kathy was apparently in reasonably good health at that time. By the evening of the seventeenth, she was entering Heaven and being fitted for her wings.

To anyone who knew Kathy, she was a loving and caring person, with a heart and a smile bigger than her entire being. She rarely, if ever, had an unkind word to speak of anyone, even if they had done something to hurt her.  She was, as my brother Tim would say, Switzerland, in a world filled with Russias, Germanys and Chinas. But in reality, she was the Pax Romana personified, looking for a way and the means to keep the peace with her words, deeds and gentle soul.

Even as her eldest brother, I admired this trait in her that she exemplified, to which I could only aspire, and would fail miserably in my attempts to achieve. She was truly an angel among us and was not recognized by us who knew her until she was gone forever.

So, today, as she sits at the Table of Good and Plenty with our Mom, Dad, brother, and other family and friends who passed before her, she is the Guest of Honor as she celebrates her seventieth birthday, a milestone here on Earth for sure and her first birthday in Heaven.

One last point I would add about Kathy…

She always had a smile for anyone and everyone she would meet. It prompts me to recall the last verse to the theme from The Sandpiper, a movie of love, loss and cherished memories. The song was called The Shadow of Your Smile, which Kathy would sing on occasion with the feel and fervor of Barbra Streisand. But it is the last verse which really hits home for me:

Now when I remember spring

All the joys that love can bring

I will be remembering

The shadow of your smile

Happy Birthday, Dear Sister.

A Memorial To My Godson

 

We are here today to honor my Godson, Steven Wessel, who passed on October 10, 2019. He was but twenty-seven years old and will forever be that age all through Eternity. Perhaps, he got the better end of that deal.

 While we are sad that he no longer walks among us, it is also a day where we can share our happy memories of him, as well.  Ultimately, it is not a somber day, but more like a bittersweet one.

 Steven, I wrote a commentary for your thirtieth birthday on April 3, 2022 called Happy Birthday in Heaven, Godson. I highlighted some, but not all, of your qualities, like marching to your own drum, your independence, and your unique sense of humor. But you were, in this life anyway, a pretty good cook, a fine actor and a great singer, as well. You were also a good and kind son to my sister, Roseann and my brother-in-law, Gary, and  a loving brother to your siblings, Kevin and Kelly. Not a day goes by where my sister doesn’t think of you and sheds a tear or three that you aren’t here.

 Since that fateful day four years ago, each day there is always someone who speaks of you, whether it would be a friend or a family member. These were and are the people who love you still, and keep your memory alive in their hearts and in their words.

 We have lost, and you have welcomed, other family members to join you at the Table of Good and Plenty to share in God’s Love for us all. My brother, Tim, my sister, Kathy and your Dad’s Mom, Joan are there with you now since you paved the way for them. You, and they joined my Mom and Dad who were already waiting there. Wherever that may be.

 While we are at it, Steven, please give a big hug and kiss to Nana, Gramps, Uncle Tim, Aunt Kathy, Grandma Joan and a tutta la nostra famiglia that you have the privilege to see every day wherever you are, and tell them all that they are missed every day by so many. But I am sure they, and you, already know that.

 So, Friends, lift your glass to Steven’s memory and know that somehow, some way he is here sharing this day with us. And remember the joy he brought to each of our lives. God Bless You, Godson.

 And May You Continue to Rest In Peace. Amen.

 

 

Our Angel Gets Her Wings

 

Let me start this off by sharing a funny story about Kathy from my book, Life is But a Dream:

(His mother came home from the hospital with his new‑born sister that October morning in 1953. He was two- and one-half years old. He was happy to see his mom, since she had been away for what seemed a very long time. Actually, it was only three days.

 Anyway, he was running around the house, generally causing a ruckus. His mom asked, no, pleaded with him to be quiet while his sister slept in the bedroom. Mom sat in the kitchen crying. He realized that things weren't the way they were supposed to be, so he listened and went inside to watch TV.

He was quiet for a long time. His mom went to see what he was doing. Well, to her surprise and dismay, he was carrying his sister by her ankles in the hall. "She was crying," he said, "and I wanted to help you. So, I went to get her for you."

 Panic seized his mom. However, she had enough sense to reach out and take the baby from him. "Thank you, Frankie," she said, calmly. "That was nice that you wanted to be a big brother to your sister, and that you wanted to help me. But next time please come and get me, OK?")

 That was the first memory I have about my sister. But it is not the last.

 As small children, she was my first friend, and as we grew, as our family did, we would be there for each other in good times, as well as, in not as good.  When I got myself into trouble, as my Angel Sister, she would comfort me. When she was in trouble, I would defend her.

 In our early adult years, we would hang out at the Garden City Chop House. On Friday and Saturday nights, Kathy, Jeff, and I would spend hours there with our neighbor Joe, dancing and listening to great music from the many bands which played there week after week. And on Sunday mornings, the three of us, would trek to the Tulip Bake Shop, tired and with no sleep.  Oh, did I mention that Kathy and Jeff were still in High School and under eighteen?

 Anyway, there was one night, when Jeff and Joe decided to see how many Rums and Cokes they could drink. Kathy, sensing there would be a problem, called home to have our Dad come to pick her and Jeff up. (By this time, I was working overnight at the bakery, so I heard about this later.)  Dad came in and witnessed this chug-a-thon and instead of ushering them out, he sat and watched them have at it drinking his Red Label and water, which Kathy bought for him.

 Finally, at 4 AM they got into Dad’s Kingswood Estate wagon. Kathy sat in the front, while Jeff and Joe fell asleep in the back seat. When they pulled into the driveway, after much prodding. Kathy was able to wake Jeff and Joe up. She followed them into the backyard whereupon, Joe walked into the hedges to his house while Jeff continued to the street to leave an involuntary protein spill in the gutter.

 Kathy, in her usual way, helped Jeff into bed and set the alarm for Jeff so he would be able to get to work on time. When the alarm rang what seemed like two minutes later, Kathy came to wake Jeff up so he would be able to get to work on time.

 Kathy would be there for her younger brothers and sister, too, whenever any of them needed to be bailed out of a difficult situation, which they would remember and could share the intimate details of their own experiences.

 In later years, all of us would remember her soft-spoken, gentle way she would be there for any of us. Her favorite means of address to any of us was “Dear Brother” or “Dear Sister”, She even treated her brothers-in-law and sisters-in-law with the same salutation. She instinctively understood that family was not only blood-related but friend-related, too.  She made no distinction in her treatment.

 She is now with our Mom and Dad, our brother Tim, our nephew Steven, our cousins Mike, Tommy, Kerri and Jerry, and all our deceased family and friends sharing God’s Love at the Table of Good and Plenty. Perhaps, as she is fitted with her well-earned Angel Wings, she can put in a good word or two for the rest of us.

 As all of who knew Kathy would agree, that was her way. Always.  Rest In Eternal Peace, Dear Sister.

Why the Mental Capacity of Our Representatives Is Critical

It has become apparent to any fair-minded person that there are people in out highest levels of government from both parties who allegedly suffer from some form of dementia. Presently, both President Biden and Senator McConnell are two men who should not be in the positions they have. Nor, actually, should Diane Feinstein or several others in both the House of Representatives and the Senate.

 I am a seventy-two-year-old man who has several critical health issues and have learned that age eventually becomes a factor in any endeavor one attempts physically and mentally. When I was in my fifties, I resented the term “over-qualified” because I felt I was discriminated against. Subtly.  But as an older person, I recognize that employers must be considerate of a senior citizen’s abilities and capabilities.

 I have come to believe that Members of Congress and those in the Presidency, and the Courts are in positions where, if they are over seventy-five, they should take a cognitive test to make certain they are able to understand the significance of their decisions. This isn’t an issue of discrimination. Instead, it is common sense, because as a person in a critical position which affects us all must understand the ramifications of those decisions.

 In the private sector, employers expect their employees to be able to function in challenging situations. For example, a hospital would be subject to a lawsuit and potential financial ruin if a surgeon on staff were to lose a patient because the doctor slipped and accidently injured or killed a patient. Or, if a Supervisor at Home Depot or Lowes allowed a person with slower reflexes to drive a forklift and the driver hit a customer, or dropped a product which caused injury, the financial damages would be costly.

 Now, I realize that these are exaggerations of worst-case scenarios. Or are they?

 There are several people in their seventies and eighties I know who come across as sharp as a tack and can hold their own in a conversation, make reasonable decisions and/or put forth creative ideas which a younger person with less experience may not be able to provide. And, then, there are those who should not be sitting in the driver’s seat of their car, driving on the expressway. We all know someone like these people.

 We are the employers of those we elect to the highest positions in our government. We should be able to expect, no, demand that they can function at the highest physical and mental capabilities.

 Whether the person is Doanld Trump, or Joe Biden, or Mitch McConnell, or Diane Feinstein, or anyone who aspires to serve at the highest elected positions of government, we should expect that they pass a cognitive and competency test if they are over seventy-five. As the employer, we would be remiss in our responsibilities if we didn’t.

 I realize that some people will disagree with me and that it fine. But I expect that the next President has the mental capacity to understand that his decisions will affect me, my children, and my grandchildren.

 And so should you.

The Mets Honor Two More

 

#16? #18? Does anyone know what these numbers mean? If you are a New York Mets fan, you should. They mean the same as 37, 14, 41, 42, 31, 36, 17 and 24. Mets Immortality.

And now, Steve Cohen, Mets fan first and owner second, is retiring 16 and 18 next summer.

 Dwight Gooden and Darrel Strawberry will join teammate and Captain, Keith Hernandez on the roof of Citifield as a tribute to the last World Series team in 1986 and through the portal of a rich history. They will join the two greatest managers, Gil Hodges and Casey Stengel, the best pitchers of the early Mets, Tom Seaver and Jerry Koosman, the greatest catcher, Mike Piazza and the best representatives of the Mets’ proverbial ancestors, the Brooklyn Dodgers and New York Giants, Jackie Robinson, and Willie Mays.

 While the Mets have not had a winning history like that other New York team, it is however, rich with meaningful and exciting events and occurrences which have brought joy and memories Mets fans cherish. Banner Days, Old Timers Games, the aforementioned World Series championships, Tom Seaver’s “almost perfect” game, the “Ya Gotta Believe” season, Johan Santana’s “no-hitter”, and the “Chavez Miracle Catch” are just some of them.

 As a long time, long-suffering, loyal Mets Fan, who has bled “Orange and Blue Since ‘62”, I can assure you that these retirements are well-deserved.  After all, Doc is only surpassed by Tom Seaver in all-time wins and followed by Jerry Koosman. And The Straw leads all players in home runs, followed by only David Wright and Mike Piazza.

 In my view, there are three numbers which should be retired next: #45 for John Franco, all-time saves leader, #5 David Wright, number two in home runs and #7 Ed Kranepool, all-time games played leader, who played from 1962 to 1979. There may be others that you may think should be recognized with this honor, but you cannot really argue with mine. 

But for now, let’s celebrate with Doc and Straw in 2024. Lets Go Mets!

The Argument Against Impeachment

 

Impeach. This is a word which has been used and abused several times since the Constitution of the United States was ratified in 1789. So that we all understand its meaning, to impeach someone, from a dogcatcher to the President, does NOT mean to remove him or her from office. Instead, it means to blame, castigate, condemn, criticize, damn, denounce, indict, cite, prosecute, arraign, implicate, and reprove, among many other words. Then, a trial follows where evidence is introduced.

 According to our Constitution, the process of impeachment is two-fold. First, the House of Representatives hears arguments for and against, for example, the President, giving testimony where "Bribery, Treason, or other High Crimes and Misdemeanors" is introduced. The House acts comparably to a Grand Jury in a criminal case. Then, as long as 50% plus one of the Members present vote to impeach, Articles of Impeachment are referred to the Senate for disposition and trial. Then, if the accused is found guilty, by a 2/3 (67 Senators) majority, he or she is immediately removed from office.

 In all cases thus far in American History, no President has been found guilty and removed, and only one resigned as he believed he would not survive a Senate trial.

 Also, history has revealed that in each case, Articles were drawn up by the opposing party in power, not the party of the sitting President. Ultimately, in each case, it was a political difference which caused the impeachment, not Bribery, Treason or the still undefined High Crimes and Misdemeanors. This makes impeachment a political remedy, not a criminal one.

 Johnson, Clinton, Trump (2X) and even Nixon did something that the opposition party did not like. As history has shown us, the accusers were all guilty of the same things in varying degrees but held the power to point a finger to the impeached person. And away from themselves.

Now, it appears that the Republicans are readying Articles of Impeachment against Biden. Why? Because the Democrats did it to Trump. A revenge play? Hypocrisy abounds in both parties. Virtually every Member of the Congress is guilty of being on the take, whether from corporations, foreign entities or other “political contributions”. While they may have been elected on a shoestring, each member is a millionaire within their first term.

 In reality, the process of impeachment takes away a basic fundamental right to Americans: The right to vote out those who act in a fashion unbecoming of the office. And the media is no better. It collectively chooses sides and presents the view it favors. Here is bulletin for everyone: There are no journalists anymore who claim that journalism is their profession. Instead, they are press agents for their current hero, spewing talking points to advance their side’s arguments.

 So to sum up, I abhor impeachment because it is nothing more than a political remedy to attempt to remove one’s opponent. And as for expunging impeachment records, if this House wishes to expunge Trump’s impeachment, then it must expunge Clinton’s and Johnson’s, too, for the same reason. And by the way, since expungement is not Constitutionally mentioned or defined, then Rep McCarthy, et.al., need to sit down and shut up on this issue.

 Finally, the Congress needs to better define the term “High Crimes and Misdemeanors”, or this political gamesmanship will continue with each change in the makeup of the Congress and successive Presidents.

 How much more harm can our politicians of all parties foist upon our country until we become no better than China, Russia, or any one of the many banana republics which exist in this world?

The Music and Lyrics Which Inspires Me

 

The beauty of music. It sings to me and inspires my creative juices in a way that brings out the feelings I have stored deep within my soul. The words just flow first like a small brook, becoming a stronger stream, until finally, cresting forth like a powerful river over its banks.

 I had realized this many years ago but decided to live my life in a different direction. Then, in my early sixties after I recovered from Stage 3 Colon Cancer, my younger brother Tim suggested that I restart that engine. So, I began my blogsite, which you are reading this on today. And this is the 660^th commentary on my blogsite. (I also started to build a playlist which I play as I write. Of course, that took time, too.) I didn’t think I would find a niche that would be of any long-term interest to a particular audience.

 And I was right. I went down a meandering path of thought: politics, sports, religion, whatever came to mind to me on a given day. And, finally, I came to the realization that I was the audience I was writing these commentaries to. The day’s commentary was of interest to ME, and that if someone else read them, I would be pleased because it seemed that at least someone else thought my comments and views were of at least a mild interest to them.

 Anyway, my brother and I started a social media consulting business in 2015 where he and another person would solicit our clients, my nephew Mike would develop the creative art, and I would finalize the copywrite to substantiate the client as a thought leader in his or her industry, and posted it across the client’s and our social media pages.

 And it was fun. A lot of fun. But then Tim wanted to retire. It was becoming burdensome for him to expend the energies needed to work at a high-paced, pressure-cooker level each day. So. he finally retired.

 I knew I was “over-qualified” (code words for ‘too old’), having heard those words after I closed my mortgage business when I was in my mid-fifties. So, I filled my days from 2018 to 2020 driving for LYFT. And I enjoyed it. After all, I was meeting people, something I was accustomed to, having been a banker, bartender, cabdriver and even a sometime musician in bands in the 60s, and later in the 70s with, you guessed it, my brother Tim.

 I had stopped driving due to the unknowns of Covid, especially for someone like me who fairly recently had Cancer.  Tim passed, right at the start of Covid and I had to find an outlet. So, I wrote several books, playing and adding to my playlist each day. The music helped me deal with the loss of my brother. And it inspired me to write.

 660 blogs, nine books, and a musical play later, I am still inspired to write. My characters sing words to songs to other characters across the pages of each book in my library. For me. You have witnessed this if you have read my books. And if you bought my books on Amazon, or read my commentaries, I thank you.

 I am in the middle of my latest book, which should be published by the Fall, called the Positivity of Cancer. It is a story where our five protagonists deal with their cancers, some more than once. And of course, the music I play while writing inspires the creative juices to tell their stories.

 Stay tuned.

God Bless America, Land That I Love!

 

So yesterday was Independence Day, 2023. What did you do to celebrate?

 I am visiting my son and daughter-in-law for the last couple of weeks in New York. So, first I watched my grandchildren ride their bicycles. Watched Joey Chestnut eat 62 hot dogs (BLEH). Then, I bought them Mr Softee root beer floats. It was on to watching the Mets game on SNY (They won).  Had a barbecue with chicken, steak, burgers and yes, the All-American meal, hot dogs.

Then as night approached, we went down to the beach to watch fireworks. It was actually spectacular watching the colors in the sky with no obstructions or intrusions. With people I did not know.

 And this is what this commentary is all about. Celebrating America’s 247^th year of Independence and freedom, with people of all races, colors and creeds without checking to see if they were like me. Because, no matter whether they are white, black, Hispanic or Asian, Catholic, Protestant, Jewish or Muslim, we were all Americans celebrating as Americans the glory of being American.

 That was the purpose 247 years ago: Not to be English living in North America. No, it was to be free of the British yoke around the necks of free men and women. Yes, we took a long time ourselves to realize what it means to be American. Heck, we even have a Civil War in our past which ultimately helped us realize this. And we still needed another one hundred or so years to make certain all of us benefited from the corrections made to the sins of our past.

 As I watched the starbursts and listened to noise created by the fireworks, I thought about what it was like to be an American in 1776. The living conditions were not nearly as luxurious as anything we have now. Soldiers were forced to wear clothes tattered by the weather for weeks on end. They fought with their valor and gumption, sometimes without ammunition. Or without eating for days on end. But they had faith they were fighting for a greater cause than themselves.

 And when it was over, their sacrifices were made all the more blessed because they had faith in their cause, which was righteous, and their faith in God, which was just.

 So that is how I spent Independence Day, cherishing the life I was blest to live in a country, with all of its problems, as a free man without the government telling me what I MUST do. Instead, if I choose not to follow what the government says is what is required of me, I remember that the government works for me and not that I do what the government says.

 In my view, the most important words of the Declaration of Independence are: But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same Object evinces a design to reduce them under absolute Despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such Government, and to provide new Guards for their future security. Such has been the patient sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity which constrains them to alter their former Systems of Government.

 And for this, I thank God I was born in this Country, with all of its sins and its problems, because I am free to say what I want without punishment or persecution.

God Bless America, Land That I Love! Happy Birthday Americans!

 

 

The Unforseen Effects of Covid

 

The latest victim of the post-Covid economy is Christmas Tree Shops (CTS) which filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection and failed to meet its payment obligations. Management had agreed to close ten stores under its original plan and now is required to close all seventy-two stores from Maine to Delaware.

 This was not the first time the fifty-three year old company was in this position. In 2003, Bed Bath & Beyond (BBBY) purchased the company for $200 million. Then, because BBBY was having its issues, Handhil Holdings LLC purchased CTS in 2020 for an undisclosed amount of money.

 Recently, BBBY was forced to close all its stores for essentially the same reason, the inability to meet its bankruptcy loan obligation. But unlike CTS, the bankruptcy court approved Overstock.com to buy the Bed Bath and Beyond name to use it in its brand name, online website business, customer database and loyalty program, but not its retail stock or brick and mortar locations.

In addition, Overstock will not be able to acquire Buy Buy Baby, the baby merchandise retailer that BBBY bought in 2007. However, within a few weeks, you will see the name changes in both Canada and the United States. And access to the wedding registry would continue.

 Buy Buy Baby will be subject to a separate auction Wednesday for its intellectual property and Thursday for its physical locations.

 The retail business has been in freefall for several years due to the successes of Amazon, Walmart, Target, Costco, Wayfair, and even Overstock.com, and other electronic/digital businesses since Y2K. Malls across America have begun closing, leaving huge wastelands in their wake. Landlords are struggling with what to do with properties which bring no recurring, anticipated rental income to pay taxes and maintenance for their mortgaged real estate.

 Soon enough, all this will be felt by all of us, in prices, availability and convenience. This phenomenon is not recent; it has been ongoing for many years. But the pandemic forced us to stay home to do our shopping and since then our shopping habits were easily altered.

 While CTS and BBBY are the latest retailers to fail, they certainly will not be the last. Similar to the retail banking industry, there will be companies which are too big to fail. Or at least that is the belief. But it will change on a dime if companies like Macy’s or Walmart meet the fate of Bed Bath and Beyond and Christmas Tree Shops.

 What then? There is no FDIC-type agency to bail out retail businesses like the FDIC managed to bail out banks. Will the people be able to combine resources to save Best Buy or Home Depot should these companies falter? Bain Capital tried to save Toys R Us and failed. But the lesson was then learned to let retailers claim bankruptcy should management become inept.

 Finally, will we be limited to shopping for items online, never to set foot in a big-box store again? Perhaps. The Star Trek twenty-third century is becoming more like a reality every day, with debit cards, laptops, tablets and cell phones, and all sorts of gadgets which did not exist in 1965. Certainly, online shopping was not even a consideration.

The Final Frontier may well be upon us. And it is two centuries earlier than anyone imagined.

 Thank you, Covid.

A Huge Blow to Biden

 

On June 30, 2023, the Supreme Court struck down the Biden Student Loan Forgiveness plan. Good! Serves Biden right. He isn’t a King, or worse, who just will proclaim something and voila’ it’s done.

 He should know better. He was in Congress from 1973 until 2009 as a Senator and was Vice President from 2009 to 2017. You would think that he would know what was Constitutional and what wasn’t. But instead. he would just usurp Congress’ power of the purse and try to unilaterally fulfill a campaign promise.

 And then, the Supreme Court called him on it by stating that he did not have that power. In fact, they even quoted Nancy Pelosi who said in 2021, that it was not the President’s authority, but the Congress.

 He knew this. And now he will try to blame the Court when it was he who screwed up. From 2021 to January 3, 2023, his party controlled both Houses of Congress. Instead of making a promise he knew he could not keep and did not offer a bill to have the Congress pass legislation he could sign, he did not. Why? Because too many Democrats facing re-election figured they would lose if they tried and told him not to even consider that option. Including Former Speaker Nancy Pelosi.

 Now, if he tries to propose such a bill, he would be laughed out of Washington. He will be mistaken if he tries to blame the Supreme Court as he campaigns for a second term. Even I would be able to beat him if he tried that stupid stunt.

As for trying to use the HEROES Act of 2003, that was a poor reason since it was written to provide for returning military from Afghanistan and Iraq. Whoever is advising him should be fired immediately.

 He was too busy writing executive orders for everyone to wear masks and watching the sheep obey it. He thought he could do this, too. Just so everyone understands, executive orders are Constitutionally valid when the Congress is not in session, and only if there is a threat to our national security during Congress’ absence. Not for every little idea that crosses the mind of a President to fit an agenda. This applies to Presidents from both parties, not just Biden.

 The problem, ultimately, is that colleges and universities charge too much money for education. And the Department of Education, since the 1970s, has allowed this to happen to where the cost of tuition is now at obscene levels. And has failed in its primary responsibility.

 Someone said to me today that that the government needs to do something to help students manage their education costs. All I can say is this. How is Medicare doing? Or the Veterans Administration?

 As Ronald Reagan said, “The nine most terrifying words in the English Language are, I’m from the government and I’m here to help.”

 

 

 

Kingmaker vs King

 

I have been silent on the whole 2024 election cycle because, frankly, I will not vote for Biden or any other Democrat with the possible exception of Robert Kennedy, Jr. It isn’t because I think he is so wonderful. Instead, it is because I agree with his vaccine stance. And that is it. But I have, for several decades, believed that we have over-vaccinated our children.

 And I will admit that there isn’t really anyone on the Republican side who has delivered an inspirational message for why I should vote for her or him, either. They are campaigning on the strength that they are “not Trump”. Not really a reason.

 I voted for Donald Trump twice. With no regrets. But quite honestly, he is a marked man with scandal, indictments, impeachments attached to his coattails. It is hard to believe he could overcome this and be an effective leader. Even members of his own party think he is last week’s fish.

 In addition, even if he ran, and won, he would be a “lame-duck” on January 20, 2025. How effective could he possibly be with all that on his back? The indictments, the so-called scandals and his lame-duck status crushing him down? It would be hard even for the strongest possible candidate to overcome all this.

 Had he won in 2020, he would have been serving a continued Presidency, with no break, to give him impetus for at least two more years and maybe even to the beginning of the 2024 election cycle. But recent history has shown, e.g., Reagan, Clinton, Bush, Obama, that by year six, Americans are tired of that President.

 And each had an issue which negatively impacted the second half of his second term. Reagan had Iran-Contra, Clinton had his impeachment, Bush had Katrina and Obama had the IRS fiasco. But they were all judged by history to be mostly successful Presidencies. As a lame-duck, Trump won’t have that same opportunity.

 But, he presently is polling very strong and in some polls will beat Biden, or any Democrat. Except, you guessed it, Robert Kennedy, Jr. And the present Republican candidates have been given no indication any of them would support him if he won the nomination. And, in reality, Trump is not a Republican. Instead, he is an independent individual who ran as a Republican. And won.

 Americans are tired of all the divisiveness caused by both parties’ leadership. Perhaps it is time to revert to what George Washington believed: parties cause fracturing of the American spirit, actually pits American against American, which happened in 1860, and is happening again. Trump could help heal our electoral process by deciding not to run and instead back Kennedy. Democrats and Republicans alike would be hard-pressed to criticize him for this.

 Sometimes, people can be looked on more favorably by what they did and didn’t do. Being the king-maker sometimes is better than being the king.

He Ain't Heavy, He's My Brother

 

Tim’s Eulogy which I gave on 2/28/2022:

 Good morning. Welcome to Tim’s Memorial service, whether you are here in person or watching on zoom.

 Tim McHale passed on April 20, 2020 or 4/20, which was an irony not lost on anyone who knew him. It was also at the advent of Covid. He was a doubter for sure, but I believe he had an epiphany at the end. After all, we are here today to honor a final request he made.

 It took a while, but today his daughter Caroline and her children, Tim's grandchildren, Arthur and Clara are here to pay homage to him. As well, his daughter Mandy is here, along with several of his siblings, cousins and other family and friends who loved him.

 His time here was not long; no one’s is really. But he made good use of the time he had. He was a drummer, a cab driver, a student. Even a junior baker of sorts. But he made his best use as a “Mad Man”, and then, as a marketing expert.

 I learned much about advertising, marketing and sales working with him from 2014 to 2020. But I learned much more about him during that time too. He was very creative with his many ideas he developed, and his penchant to look beyond the obvious.

 His humor was infectious; his sensitivity was deep. To know Tim McHale was to saddle up to a man who was impatient, yet forgiving; easily annoyed, yet contrite; at loggerheads, yet kind.

 When he came to live in my building, neighbors would ask me why I did the things I did for him, rather than get a nurse or an aide. I would simply answer, “He ain’t heavy, he's my brother”. They would look at me and nod. But I don't think they really understood.

 I miss Tim today as much as I did when he passed. As the eldest sibling, I witnessed much in my family and can share that he is loved as much today as when he was six. Or sixty-five.

 Continue to Rest In Peace, Tim. Amen.

A Birth Day (Birthday?) Story

 Today is January 19. Let me tell you about an event which happened forty years ago today.

 It was the coldest day that winter. It had been getting steadily colder the week preceding, with the temperature reaching five degrees at 12:30 that morning during the overnight. The wind chill was minus fourteen degrees.

 My wife, Anne, wanted to take a shower and put on makeup, but I told her that we really didn’t have time. She grudgingly agreed after a ten-minute discussion. When we walked outside, it was bitterly cold, and the wind was stronger than it was when I got home from work earlier that evening.

We drove to the hospital at 10:30 the night of the eighteenth as she was, by now, truly in the throes of intense labor. It took forty-five minutes to get there, get a wheelchair and get a nurse to help me get her from the car to the maternity area. Once she was settled and under the care of the nursing team, I went down to Admitting to finalize her stay.

 When I came back about fifteen minutes later, I was told to change into scrubs. By the time I returned, the doctor had been called. I figured this was a good time to have something from the “goody” bag I packed for myself, so I opened up a Coke and a bag of Fritos. As soon as I did, she began to gag from the smell of the corn chips. I gave her some ice but of course, the smell of the chips was still on my hands and clothes. To be certain, that was the last time I could eat Fritos around her.

 The time was ticking, and the contractions came closer together. Fortunately, the doctor finally arrived at 1:30. He examined her and promptly announced that the baby would soon be born. He stepped away for what seemed like an eternity and returned five minutes later dressed in his scrubs. It was 2:02 AM when we were wheeling her to the delivery room.

 It seemed that the entire medical team knew the role he and she were to play. I was watching with amazement how smoothly each person was doing their assigned task. Like they had done a hundred times before. I knew I was extraneous and stood at the top of the bed, encouraging my wife to do her breathing, to push and to wipe her face with a cool cloth.

 Suddenly, the doctor sternly but kindly instructed her to push. It was nine minutes after two and there was now a sound that previously was not heard, that of a crying baby. It seemed the entire team exhaled a a collective breath of relief and began congratulating us as they continued their post-delivery chores.

 Finally, within a couple of minutes, the head nurse handed our daughter to us. We both knew that at that moment, our lives would never be the same. Of course, up until then, even as we were dealing with labor, we had tried to come up with the name for our child. But at that moment, we knew we had the perfect name for our beautiful first-born.

 Today, it will be eighty here in Florida, a far cry from your birth day, yes? Happy Birthday, Lauren Ashley. We are as proud of you now as we thought we were then. More so, I believe. You are a perfect daughter and are now a perfect mother to your two beautiful children. Everything you have done in your life has been a joy to be able to witness.

 I raise the proverbial glass to congratulate you on everything you have done up to this point in your life: Speech Pathologist, Wife, Mother. And the best Daughter a Dad could ever want.

 To another forty years, at least. I love you, Lauren. Sto’Lat, Cent’Anni, Na Zdrowie, Sláinte is Tainte. God Bless You. Happy Birthday!!