Also, this web site features a few original compilation of music by myself and the esteemed Sir Steven Paul Barmash.

COMMENT - This blog entry was posted a month ago, but I forgot to notify my friends and neighbors on Nextdoor. Here is what you missed!

In a Tale Of Two Cities, Dickens began, "It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."

Hold on, I am not about to get political. Although those are words I often think about when I read the news, they also come to mind when I think about my life here in Florida--to which I add, "and it was the craziest of times".

My life in Florida is sometimes great, sometimes it is pretty sucky, but more times than not, it borders on the absurd and insane. I see things, read things and do things I could never have imagined in my wildest dreams when I was younger. For instance, one morning I was on the way to the, Orlando Auto Museum, with some friends and what do we see on the side of the road? A dead alligator!

Yep, a dead alligator. It was just laying/lying--not sure which is correct--on the road. In either case, it was on the road side, stone cold dead with its belly side up.

Now, you have to understand, I grew up in NYC, and as a kid I had a very wild imagination, (as I do to this very day). I would imagine all kinds of insane and crazy things as a child, but the one thing that never fleeted through my mind was I would see a dead alligator on the roadside, or see a dead alligator anywhere for that matter, during my lifetime.

It may be hard to tell from the pictures I posted further down, but it was a boy alligator, LOL.

I was so intrigued by the sight I did a little alligator research, to which I learned--more boy alligator information--a male alligator's penis is always erect. YIKES.

Seriously though, we are all adults here...at least you are...yes, an alligator's penis is always erect, but it is hidden in their body (such as our tongue is hidden in our mouth behind our lips). It is always ready for action and shoots out when needed, and then retracts. Talk about the phrase...Wham! Bam! Thank You, Ma'am!

Bonus trivia...Dean Martin sang a song in the 1950's titled Wham! Bam! Thank You, Ma'am! and the lyrics had the line "Wham bam thank you ma'am. Hope you're satisfied."

Seeing the alligator was just one of the many "out of the norm" things I experienced lately. For instance, I got Covid this past summer, as did a lot of people I know. But let's not kid ourselves, today's Covid is generally not the life threatening Covid of 2020. For most people today's Covid is not any worse than a cold or the flu, but when people hear the words "I tested positive for Covid" it is like you have the plague.

The lingering concerns and paranoia people have about Covid works well for me. Having Covid is a great excuse to get out of stuff.

I am sitting in a comfy chair as I take a swig of beer, grab some peanuts and speak into the phone.

"Oh man, I wish I could go with you to Bob's funeral. Even though I didn't really know the dude, or even like the him for that matter, I would go with you. You know that. But the bad news is I tested positive for Covid last night. Yea, Covid. No, no, no. I am not feeling too bad, but of course I am staying in. You know how it goes. I agree, it is a bummer. No, I have no idea how I got it, but I don't want to get anyone else sick, so I will just quarantine myself for a few days. It is the right thing to do."

With a slight smirk on my face I take another sip of beer and conclude by saying.

"So, do me a favor. Give my condolences to everyone there, and maybe you can say a few words for me. Make up some shit. You are good at that!"

I started the blog by riffing on the opening sentence from A Tale Of Two Cities, a book I had to read for school when I was young. Far from being the longest opening sentence in a book, that honor goes to William Faulkner's 1,288-word sentence from Absalom, Absalom!, Dicken's sentence is probably the most famous long opening sentences ever written perhaps. When people read it, (it is a whole paragraph long), they often don't realize it is one sentence. One hell of a long sentence, but a sentence none the less. And it is a great, (and always relevant) sentence. As true as it was during Dicken's time; years prior and years hence, it is true today as well. Here it is:

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way – in short, the period was so far like the present period, that some of its noisiest authorities insisted on its being received, for good or for evil, in the superlative degree of comparison only."

Since I have nothing to add to that I will pivot back to some crazy shit I have seen here in Florida, and crazy stuff I read online. If you browse a lot online, or go down rabbit holes, I expect you have seen headlines similar to these.

I Asked 3 Chefs to Name the Best Frozen Pizza, and They All Said the Same One
I Asked 4 Food Editors the Best Way To Cook Corn—They All Said the Same Thing
I Asked 5 Egg Farmers the Best Way To Hard-Boil Eggs—They All Said the Same Thing
I Asked 6 Bakers To Name the Best Boxed Cake Mix—They All Said the Same Brand

The list can go on and on. In fact, I edited the above list down from 18 to the 4 you just read. But I ask you--what are the odds any of them are true? I don't know about you, but when I ask more than one person the same question, they never ALL say the same thing. If I was writing one of those articles, my headline would be:

My Wife Asked Me the Same Question 5 times in a Row--Each Time I Answered Differently!

Finally, circulating back to my crazy Florida experiences; as I mentioned earlier, I grew up in New York City, but I lived the bulk of my adult life in the suburbs of Maryland. Thus, it is understandable I never imagined I would be seeing alligators in my future life, dead or alive. The same holds true for the other crazy animals running around my neighborhood at night.

Quite frankly, it is a little disturbing, and spooky at times to drive in an open and exposed, unprotected golf cart at night where I live. Although it is unlikely to happen, you are quite vulnerable in a golf cart, and an animal can leap into your lap on a whim. Besides the deer, which are not unusual to me, and the exotic birds, which I expected to see, I see animals I have never seen in person, and wish I never did.

No matter how often I come across them, seeing opossums, raccoons and armadillos run across the road in front of me at night is little disturbing. I must admit, seeing an armadillo scurry across the road in the dark is something that both fascinates me, and gives me the heebie jeebies...to me, their unusual look makes me think of them as big rats dressed in armor.

Some friends left my house recently and saw a sounder of wild boars at the side of the road. Wild boars are certainly a group of animals I would not want to cross paths with in my golf cart. Nor was the huge snake I almost ran over the other night. Lots of exotic animals here. One of my neighbors called another neighbor recently to tell her to be careful getting into her car, which was parked in her driveway--because as he drove by, he noticed an alligator under it!

How I miss the days of standing on the subway platform, waiting for the F train in NYC, and seeing from a safe distance a lone rat scurrying away from me on the tracks into the tunnel!

I shot this pic while walking through the back lot of Universal Hollywood many years ago

This blog is supposed to be about my life in Florida. But sometimes I deviate to other topics, which I am doing today. I was recently asked how I get my ideas for the blog. I thought that was a good question, and a good topic since I didn't know what to write for this update.

My inspiration comes from various sources, such as someone asking how I get my ideas. But for this update, and what you are about to read, the ingredients are my curious nature combined with a spoonful of my wild imagination.

For instance, as I sit here typing away with my two fingers, I am drinking water out of a Mason jar. Yep, a Mason jar. And as I started drinking, my curiosity got me to wonder, who and why did the first person decide to drink out of a Mason jar? A Mason jar is stubby, heavy, squat, and simply not the best vessel for drinking something.

Yet, here I am doing it right now even though I have dozens of glasses in the house. So, I guess if you look up the word "stupid" in the dictionary you will see a picture of me drinking water out of a Mason jar, surrounded by two dozen drinking glasses!

Anyway, thinking about it jump started my imagination, and in my mind I imagined that moment, the moment the first people drank from a Mason jar.

SCENE: 1920s in a remote farm in West Virginia's, Appalachia, are two brothers named Hill and Billy. Because of prohibition they are brewing their own moonshine. (Future generations of Hill and Billy will be making meth, but that is another story.)

Billy: What are you talking about? I didn't bring any glasses. You were supposed to bring the glasses.

Hill: Shit, that's right. I forgot. I was so busy packing the preserves and bread for our snack, I forgot to bring the glasses.

Billy: Why am I not surprised? Just when I was having a hankering to finally taste me some brew, we don't have a glass. Shit!

Hill: Wait, wait, wait. I know...uh, how about emptying the preserves from the Mason jar, and use that as a glass?

Billy: Hill, that is actually a great idea. You're a genius. But don't ever call me stupid again!

That was just one road my imagination went down. There were others. And then I decided to do a little research online. And guess what? There are others out there asking the same question...How did Mason jars go from preserving food to becoming a hipster drinking vessel?

Who would have thunk it? In fact, even Smithsonian Magazine has an online article titled, "How Mason Jars Went from Thrifty to Hip".

Well, no one seems to know the answer. And besides me, and a few other idiots out there, does anyone really care? I think not.

By the way, that is another blog ingredient of mine--research. When I come across information I consider interesting I write about it. And believe it or not, I actually did a little research about moonshine before I wrote the Hill-Billy scene, and found out something I never knew.

During Prohibition, to avoid the police, bootleggers distributed their moonshine using modified cars with souped-up engines, and other modifications. And when Prohibition ended, the out-of-work drivers began organizing races, which in turn eventually led to the formation of the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing--NASCAR. So, NASCAR, one of the largest spectator sports today, has its roots in moonshine!

I think that is an interesting, and unusual fact. And talking about unusual facts, another time I was browsing some online articles I came across a headline that made me ask,

"This" was an article titled, "23 Disturbing Facts You're Better Off Not Knowing".

So, let me get this right. The author came across 23 disturbing things people shouldn't know, and now he/she wants to tell them to us?

Naturally, I took the bait--hook, line and sinker. So, what were some of the disturbing facts?

1- "If you have any pets, like a cat, a hamster, a dog or a raccoon, if you die and no one finds your body, they're most likely going to eat your corpse." Although it is a bit disturbing, my question is, who the hell keeps a raccoon as a pet?

2- "3% of the ice in Antarctica is just penguin pee". Not disturbing, but interesting and good to know because if I am ever in Antarctica, and I get thirsty, I may pass on drinking some melted ice!

3- "The FBI says that there is between 1,000-3,000 active serial killers within the US." Now that statistic, if true, is actually disturbing!

So, because of my curiosity I now know 23 "disturbing facts" I did not know yesterday, and you now know three of them!

Moving along to my last topic, last night I was sitting in my lanai late at night. An adult deer and baby deer came walking by my house. When they saw me, they stopped and stared at me for a minute. I just sat there quiet and motionless looking back at them. Then they walked off.

Once they left, my wild imagination kicked into play. I wondered, after they were gone, did they talk to themselves in deer talk about me?

Adult Deer: No, they are too dangerous. That is why their cage has such a tight-knit screen around it.

In conclusion I observe life, I have a wild imagination, and I put my thoughts on paper. I would like to put my political thoughts out there too, but too many people don't want to hear what I have to say on the current state of affairs in our country. So I don't.

I started this blog nearly three years ago to keep in touch with family and old friends, and to share with them my Florida living experiences. During this time I never really talked about the roads or traffic here in central Florida. And believe you me, there is a lot to talk about.

To begin, if I didn't know any better I would think we only had four roads, and one highway where I live. Everywhere I drive locally, I am driving on either road number 92, 192, 27 or 17, or I am passing the I-4.

SIDE BAR--If you noticed, I said "passing the I-4", not "taking the I-4." "Never take the 4", is a common catch phrase where I live. Although the Kissimmee/Orlando area is not listed in the top ten cities for worst traffic in the US, it is among the top 20!

But our I-4, which is also known as the ‘haunted highway’ to old time Floridians, is actually the busiest interstate in the entire country.

Yep, I did say it is the busiest interstate in the country, and that it is HAUNTED!

Many people attribute the unusually high number of traffic accidents to the ghosts that haunt the 4.

You see, a portion of Interstate 4 was paved right over and through a family's grave site. And since that time, the 4 has had a much higher than normal accident rate for a road. In fact, in the last ten years, there have been 26 deadly crashes in the haunted area alone.

People have reported seeing a ghost on the 4, cell phones suddenly die and all types of aberrations have been seen on the 4. It is common for people traveling down the I-4 bridge from Volusia to Seminole County, saying they saw the ghost of a woman walking down the side of the road.--END SIDE BAR

Anyway, roads 92, 192, 27 and 17 seem to be everywhere I go. And sometimes I am on them without even realizing I am because they take on different names depending where you are. As an example, let's look at 17.

In my area, 17 takes on the name 10th Street, and further from my home it is named S John Young Parkway. Mostly, it is called Scenic Highway, but it is also known as 5th St, Marie Blvd, E Main St, Center St and more, depending where you are in Central Florida.

Okay cool, but explain this to me...in Frostproof, Florida, the southern tip of 17, it is known as South Scenic Hwy.

But then...THEN...as you continue driving north, 17 becomes SOUTH Scenic Hway again!

We are now even further north and the name reverts back to South Scenic Highway?

Road Namer 1: That was one great lunch. Your misses sure makes a great key lime pie.

Road Namer 2: Yep, she does. And it's the best way to end a meal of peppered gator tails with corn bread, wouldn't you say?

Road Namer 1: Yes it is. But now it is back to the old grind. So, where were we before lunch?

Road Namer 1: That's pretty funny, and you weren't even a math major in school. Now, let's be serious.

Road Namer 2: Well, it passes through many scenic areas, why not call it Scenic Highway?

Road Namer 1: Look at you, coming up with an truly appropriate name. I like Scenic Highway, but why don't we break it up and start with South Scenic Highway.

Road Namer 2: Beautiful. And as it travels up north we switch it to North Scenic Highway.

Road Namer 2: And then, when it takes a slight turn east we can call it simply Scenic Highway.

Road Namer 1: Yes, yes. I am for that, but first--and I guess this is the beer talking--I think we should name it South Scenic Highway one more time.

Road Namer 2: That is hysterical...South Scenic Highway--North Scenic Highway--and back to South Scenic Highway. But can we do that? Will we be able to get away with it? And won't that confuse people?

Road Namer 1: Wow, that's a lot of questions. Well, the answers are yes, yes and yes! We can do it. We can do anything we want. And we will get away with it because no one ever reviews our work. And shit yeh, it will confuse people--that's what makes it awesome. Just think, Joe Blow is out for a ride with his wife. They are driving north, not a care in the world, they are happily cruising along North Scenic Highway, not paying attention--and then pow--suddenly they look and they are on South Scenic Highway. I can hear the wife now yelling at him that he is going the wrong way!

Road Namer 2: That is awesome. Brilliant. Let's do it. And then the minute they are ready to get a divorce the sign will simply say, Scenic Highway, just to fuck with them some more! I love it. Let's do it.

Before I move off the topic of local roads, I want to say that my EZ Pass has never chalked up so many charges since moving to Florida. Florida might be a tax haven without its State Income Tax, but state money needs to come from somewhere, and that somewhere is toll roads. Nearly every major highway here in Florida is a toll road. Which is why I guess the I-4 is so crowded--it is NOT a toll road, unless you decide to use the Express Lanes!

When I Google Map directions, and this is true, I am not looking for the quickest, fastest or easiest way to get somewhere. I am looking for the way that won't put me in the poor house before my time.

As I move along now, I will talk about something I am very familiar with--being old. Being in my 70s allows me talk about aging with some degree of expertise. But then again if you talk to my 102 year old mother she will say I am just a kid. It is all perspective I guess.

I recently wondered what I would say if asked what was the most important lesson I learned my whole life? What sage advice could I possibly pass along to generations to follow?

Would it be, always have a piece of fruit flavored sucking candy in your pocket because you never know when your mouth will be dry and you would like to refresh it with a sweet fruity taste sensation?

Would it be, always have a quarter in your car because you never know when you will be going to an Aldi supermarket?

And it wouldn't be, embrace your youth by appreciating you can walk into air conditioned places wearing just a tee shirt because once you get older you, will be wearing a sweater in air conditioned places...or at least wishing you were!

The one piece of sage advice I would pass along would be, never look back with regret.

You are where you are today because of the choices you made in the past. Would different choices have taken you elsewhere? Perhaps. But would you be better off? Not necessarily.

Do not assume your life would be better if you made different choices. People tend to say, "If I only did blah, blah, blah...finished college--taken that other job--wasn't afraid to take a risk, etc.", thinking their life would be better today.

You have no idea what would have happened to you and your journey through life if you made other choices in the past. Your timeline and path would have been altered, and you would have met different people, had different experiences, and for all you know it--you might have died by now simply because your altered life took you down the road that led you to die prematurely!

So, my advice would be. Embrace the life you have. It is the only one you will have. And make the best of it. Don't wallow or have misgivings for past choices, just move forward each and every day trying to make it the best day yet!

Now that I am having an introspective moment, here are some more thoughts of mine.

1-When my wife went away recently, I realized I miss being alone once in a while.

3-I have become a pretty good cook just when I reached the time in my life I have to eat simple bland food.

4-I really enjoy doing a lot of different things, but I spend most of my time doing things I don't really enjoy.

5-I am at the age where almost anything I purchase will outlive me no matter how cheaply it is made.

Wat Florida Dhammaram Monastery in Osceola County, Florida

One Of The Many Unusual Sites Just Off Of 192 In Kissimmee

‘The Dead Zone’: I-4 named one of the most haunted roads in America

Do You Believe In Ghosts?
Read more about I-4 Haunted Dead Zone by clicking here!

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I hope you enjoyed the blog.

There are other entries below.

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Click here to check out the music.

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ADDED BONUS

My brother-in-law, Steve, has hooked up with a new band and they are the bomb.

Check them out here!

Next week my wife, Lottie, and I are going to a dance. The dance has a theme, which is "1920's Gangster". My friends, and Lottie, decided we should go dressed in costume. So, during the last few weeks I have been doing things to turn myself into a 1920s gangster. I have hit local thrift shops to find appropriate attire. I needed a fedora, suspenders, and the correct pair of shoes to round out my look. I also decided to let my hair grow so I can put product in it and slick it back. And I decided to grow a mustache. I am trying to make myself look gangster. But honestly, I don't think I am hitting the mark.

Quite a few women I know have seen me since I decided to change my look to gangster. Whenever I implement a change, and I have done quite a few makeovers during the last couple of years, the women I know seem to always have something to say about it. In this case, I did not get the response I expected. In fact, they all said the same thing to me, "Howie" they said, "You look like a porn star!"

Some of these women seem so sweet and innocent. I guess I had them pegged all wrong!

But as a I look at myself in the mirror I can see what they are saying. Can't you?

I am all about change these days. I periodically change my look. I have been changing the things I do. My interests have changed, my friends have changed, my palate has changed, even my sleep habits have changed. And I have discovered many of the changes are quite unexpected, even to me.

Howie: "Yeh, sure. That would be great. But I have a few things I need to do first."

Howie: "I also want to field strip my gun, and give it a good cleaning. I am thinking of going to the range this week."

For me, those are probably the most surrealistic words I ever spoke. Never in my wildest dreams did I think I would own a gun, shoot a gun, or carry a gun. Let alone, know how to field strip and clean one.

Lottie did not want me to buy a gun. "You'll will shoot your eye out!" she said to me one day quoting the movie, A Christmas Story. And a friend, who laughed at the thought of me shooting, began calling me Barney Fife.

But the first time I went to a range, with a buddy of mine, not only was he impressed with my first time skill set, the range officer did not believe I was a newbie who never held a gun in my hands before. I guess my many years of arcade and video games did teach me something LOL.

Now that I am a gun owner and can protect myself, I have decided to bite the bullet (yes, pun intended) and continue this blog momentarily with a political note.

It is just a short little comment because I believe we need to take the state of our politics seriously. Something is wrong when Halloween has been replaced as the scariest night of the year with Election night.

It is sad we can't talk civilly about politics anymore. And it is funny that people who want to share their political views with me, almost never want me to share mine with them.

And jokes...you can't even tell political jokes anymore because people are just "too uptight". (I wonder if young people are familiar with the term "uptight"?)

In fact, talking about jokes, the political climate is so crazy you can tell the exact same joke, to the same person, using the two leading presidential candidates as the target of the joke, and in one case it would be okay, but in the other it is not.

Tell a MAGA Republican, "Biden is so old he has been diagnosed with CRS: Can't Remember Shit." And you will get a laugh. A high five. You may even hear the phrase "Sleepy Joe".

But tell that person the same joke substituting Trump for Biden and all hell would break loose. Not only would they not find it funny, you would get a verbal reaming like you never had before. And of course they will still slip in the phrase "Sleepy Joe".

Now, to be fair, if you tell a Democrat, "Trump is so old he has been diagnosed with CRS: Can't Remember Shit." They would smile, or possibly laugh, and then spend the next hour chewing your ears off expressing their actual concern, and fear, if Trump got reelected.

Then tell a Democrat the joke, but substitute Biden for Trump they would still smile or possibly laugh, shake their head in agreement, but make the point they believe Trump is even worse, and again spend the next hour expressing their serious concern if Trump got reelected.

Let's face it, who are we kidding? Both men are old. Both have memory issues. Both mis-speak. And both should be living in a gated retirement community like I do playing cards, rolling bocce balls and relaxing at the pool.

Neither of them should be walking around with Nuclear Codes, making life and death decisions, or have the fate of the world resting on their shoulders. I am young in comparison. And I think I am fairly bright, sharp and astute. But I know I don't have the capacity to take on all of the issues of the day. And I really don't think they do either.

The scene is the Oval Office. President Howie is sitting behind the desk. Opposite him, sitting in an overstuffed comfy chair is one of the Chiefs Of Staff.

Fictitious General: Yes Mister President, I understand, it is a big decision to make.

President Howie: Decision? Oh, no no no. I am trying to figure our where the heck I put my glasses?"

President Howie rises from his chair, he leans on the massive desk in front of him, grunting he says, "Oh that hurts".

President Howie: "My damn back is killing me. I had a horrible night's sleep. I tossed and turned all night. And to make matters worse, I had to get up three times to pee--I should get myself a bed pan."

Fictitious General: "Sorry to hear that sir, but the Chiefs Of Staff are waiting for your answer."

President Howie: "Troops, troops, troops. It's always something. Troops today, economy tomorrow, abortion, gay rights, gerrymandering, gun control--when will it end? It is always something. We have such little time on this planet and all we do is make problems for ourselves. Always fighting, always angry, always at odds with someone or something. Why can't we just live and let live. Life would be so much better for everyone. Don't you think so?"

Fictitious General: "That is true sir, but again, the Chiefs Of Staff are waiting for your answer."

President Howie: "You know what? I don't know anymore. In fact, I can't be bothered anymore. Nothing ever gets solved. Troops, shmoots, just do what you want as long as you get me some acetaminophen for my freaking back!"

All kidding aside, I personally don't think either candidate should be in the running for the most powerful job in the world. In fact, it is probably a job that is too much for any one person regardless of age, old or young. Anyway, that is my rant. Sorry to bore you. Now, back to where I left off, talking about my favorite topic, me!

A lot of people read this blog. Many of them live in my community. Recently, a number of my neighbors asked when I would write another blog entry. It is a nice warm feeling to know some of you look forward to, or at least enjoy my blog. But truthfully, I find it very hard to come up with fresh topics. Right now I have no idea what I will write. Let's see where my stream of conscious takes me.

To start, I can't believe I have been living in Florida nearly three years. It doesn't seem like I moved here "just yesterday", but it doesn't seem like three years either, which is both a short time, and a long time in my scheme of things.

Compared to my 39 years in Maryland it is a short time, but considering the changes I have gone through while living here it is a lifetime...people coming in and out of my life, activities that constantly change, and getting older by leaving my 60s behind me.

In fact, it is hard to come to grips with my age. Recently, I celebrated my 72nd birthday, and you know what that means? It means it is time for a cheap joke! "I am 72, the age I can still remember my childhood phone number, but can't remember the password I created yesterday."

ABRUPT END--I actually wrote a lot more from this point forward, but I was told my blogs are too long, so I am stopping here. I will continue another time. Bye!

Lottie and Shellie hanging out inside the World's Largest McDonald's in Orlando!

My brother-in-law, Steve, has hooked up with a new band and they are the bomb.

I started this blog entry at the beginning of December, 2023. This is, in part, what I wrote back then.

Recently, when I went on my first cruise, we were the only people in the elevator as it took us to our floor on the ship.

Our rooms were on Deck Twelve. As we chatted with one another we were interrupted by the elevator's recorded voice announcing our deck.

My wife, Lottie, turned to me and our friend, Shellie, asking...did it say "DICK Twelve?"

We momentarily looked at each other, and then began to giggle like children. From that moment on, whenever we rode the elevator, we looked forward to hearing the deck announcements.

We would hear it announce "DICK Eight", and we would mumble under our breath the word "dick" as we looked at one another chuckling like nine year olds. One time when it announced, "DICK Six" Lottie and I looked at each mumbling, "It said DICK", with silly grins on our faces. It was a fun, stupid thing we did, but it did make going on the elevator a bit more enjoyable. We were like that even if the elevator was crowded. On occasion, one or two other people would smile or chuckle as well, but most of the folks were just in their own world and oblivious to what was going on.

Then one evening we went to the ship's comedy show. During her act, the comedian, Nikki Carr, mentioned she was amazed that simply blowing on a man's penis can make it grow bigger. And the more you blow, the bigger it can get. Blow, blow, blow--bigger, bigger, bigger...two inches, four inches, six inches, etc.

After the show we socialized a bit, and then went to our rooms. When we got on the elevator it was very crowded and made a lot of stops.

The announcements began, "DICK Seven", then "DICK Nine", "DICK Ten" and when it announced "Dick Eleven" I turned to Lottie and Shellie and said, "I guess someone is blowing on the elevator...and blowing and blowing and blowing", amusing myself to no end!

So, I was going to start the blog with that story, then I was going to pivot to the following Happy New Year greeting before returning to cruise stories.

Hello everyone. Here we are, at the official end of another year. And as we round the corner to 2024, it is time for the last blog entry of 2023.

As you know, I live in a retirement community, which means everyone here is old. Although we are an active retirement community, and a lot of people are in very good shape, many people you grow to know and love as neighbors and friends still get sick, hurt themselves (mainly from pickleball, and some like my neighbor and friend Danny, from softball), some come down with serious illnesses, and of course, sadly, some pass away. In fact, in the past year, at least three people died on my street. Well, they didn't literally die on the street causing us to walk over their bodies when we went out as if we were in a Monty Python movie, they just died.

Anyway, living in a community of older people you hear about a lot of people dying, and you come to appreciate life more then ever. So, when I say I want to wish you all the best for the upcoming year, I truly mean it. Time is precious, and I hope we all make it through the coming year enjoying each day, and staying healthy and happy!

Then, unexpectedly my wife, Lottie, got sick. Very sick. Scary sick. The irony of my Happy New Year greeting, its timing, and Lottie's sudden illness does not allude me. Here is that story.

She had been running a fever for quite a few days. The antibiotic didn't help her. Yesterday, she slept over eighteen hours, and now she sits next to me still feverish. Yet she is shivering with her whole body in a quiver, complaining that she is very cold. I am extremely worried about her. I never saw her this sick in the fifty years I know her. Little did I know, this was just a foreshadowing of what was to come.

I never took anyone to the ER before. I expected mayhem--ambulance sirens wailing as they came and went--doctors running around barking out orders to nurses and assistants, "We need a gurney!" "Get her into pre-op!" "Come on, move it, he's bleeding out!"

I drove quickly. I did what should have been a half hour drive in twenty minutes. But when we reached the ER all was unexpectedly quiet and still. No sirens, no doctors barking orders. It was 8:00 PM, but it seemed much later. I pulled into a spot in the desolate parking lot near the entrance to the ER. It was eerily quiet, yet peaceful. If it were a movie, the soundtrack would have been Dream Weaver by Gary Wright, playing quietly in the background. Both for its soft, mellow tone, and the apropos lyrics:

It wasn't until after we were greeted and checked in by the friendly, empathetic ER staff, and taken to the actual ER that things began to be like they are portrayed in the movies. It was noisy, bright and hectic. People coming and going. Nurses, tech aids and doctors floated in and out. It was sea of faces, and a cacophony of hospital sounds...beeping of monitors, carts being pushed down the hallway, announcements over the loudspeaker, "Cardiac Care Needed Room 22".

Lottie was in the ER for a grueling 20 hours. Grueling for me, not her. She was out of it most of the time. But I was by her side being her advocate all that night and the next day sitting in the most uncomfortable chair ever built. She may have been scary sick, but I was the one in agony at that time--getting a stiff neck and shoulder pain from nodding out in the chair only to awaken every few minutes from my bobbing head. I am surprised I didn't get whiplash!

Around 4:00 PM the next day it was off to room 338, the Negative Pressure Room. She was put under the care of hospital staff doctors, and a special infectious disease team. She was placed in a negative pressure room because no one knew what she had. By being in a negative pressure room, which means the air pressure inside the room is lower than the air pressure outside the room, so when the door is opened, potentially contaminated air or other dangerous particles from inside the room will not flow outside into non-contaminated areas, if she was contagious the only person who could get sick would be me.

On the second day of admission the doctors asked her for--vitals in the night, and five vials of blood.

On the third day of admission the doctors asked her for--one ultrasound, vitals in the night, and five vials of blood

On the fourth day of admission the doctors asked her for--one CT scan, one spinal tap, vitals in the night, and five vials of blood.

On the fifth day of admission the doctors asked her for--one full body MRI, another CT scan, an ex-ray of her hand, vitals in the night, and five vials of blood.

Okay, you get the picture. Lottie was picked, probed, injected, inspected with no part of her body undone. She was on IVs day and night. And she had every imaginable test and scan taken of her, including a spinal tap and a nuclear scan.

For the nuclear scan they took out a poultry baster's worth of blood from her, sent it to Orlando where they put it in a centrifuge to separate out the white blood cells so they could be tagged with a chemical, and then reinserted into her body in order to see where they go...if they cluster in a particular area...boom that is a place of interest and likely an area of infection. But nope, they did not cluster, so there was no area of infection to attack.

During the 12 days in the hospital, her fever came and went. One day she seemed normal, but weak, and other days she was scary sick...listless, shaking, shivering, delusional, trance like, incoherent...scary sick. I never thought she would die, but I did think she would never be the same. I told a friend, "I think a part of Lottie will be gone forever after this. She will not be the same." Well, I was wrong, she is now as annoying to me as she was before getting sick, as only a spouse can be. LOL

On day six, or was it seven, or eight? I don't know, each day just ran into one another. Frustrated, the doctor came into the room. He looked Lottie into the eyes and said, "Mrs. Hirsch I will be honest with you. We are scratching our heads. We have tested you for every common, and rare, disease both viral and bacterial. You name it, we tested for it. Covid, RSV, Flu, Malaria, Aids, STDs, UTIs, West Nile Fever, Lime Disease, Legionnaires Disease, Dengue Fever, Cancer, Strep, Mumps, Blood Infections, Zika, Lupus, Sepsis and more."

And then, a little sheepishly and almost embarrassed he said, "I have to ask you, because we really can't figure this out, do you engage in any unusual sexual relations...like with animals?"

Lottie didn't quite hear or understand what he was asking, but I sure did, and with a chuckle I answered for her. But now as I sit here reflecting, I realize I am NOT always with her...hmm, I wonder, did I give him the right answer? When she says she is playing mahjong all of Monday afternoon, is she??

In the end, other than having a mysterious illness, I learned Lottie is one of the healthiest people around...no tumors in her body, no cancer, no blood clots, no bad bacteria, no heart issues, no liver, kidneys or other organ problems. She had the type of workup and examination that every person should get at least once in their life. Now, when she gets a headache, the hypochondriac in her can't start spiraling...

"No, Lottie, you are not dying. You are fine. Take two Tylenol and go back to bed!"

After being fever free, and having no other symptoms for 24 hours, she was released from the hospital not knowing what she had. Officially it was classified as Fever Of Unknown Origin or FUO, which on day one the ER doctor told me, "FUO is more common than people realize, and there will be a good chance she will go home never knowing what was wrong with her." He was right. And according to the U.S. National Institute of Health "Despite extensive workup and diagnostic advances, up to 51% of FUO cases remain undiagnosed. In modern medicine, FUO remains one of the most challenging diagnoses."

Today, Lottie is on the road to recovery. She is building up her strength, and pretty soon will be back into the full swing of things.

On behalf of she and I, I want to thank everyone for your support, love and prayers. The outpouring from friends and neighbors was overwhelming. When we moved to our new community here in Florida we hoped to make a few new friends. Little did we know how many wonderful people we would meet here. You all know who you are, and you also know, you all have a special place in our hearts.

The one thing we did not expect after returning home was Lottie going to a hospital.

Lottie cried when she came home and saw the banner our friends, Vickie and Danny, hung on our garage.

Disclaimer for my neighborhood friend Robin
Robin--just like last year, in this piece I will be poking fun at my mom and myself with some dark humor. Don't get upset. Remember, it is meant to be cringe worthy. It is macabre humor based on MY life, and MY personal experiences with my mom.

As I begin this blog my mother, Edith, who is 101 years old, is waking up and getting ready to join me for breakfast. Yes, I did say she is 101 years old.

Although she is extremely hearing impaired and legally blind, she is in otherwise fairly good physical shape. With a slow gait, and holding your arm for guidance, she can walk up to a mile, which she does at least a few times a week. Her mental acuity is still in tact, with no real signs of dementia. And she is still a "mom" in certain respects. Let me explain what I mean by that.

During my mom's visit with me, my sister, with whom my mom lives, calls everyday to talk with her. My sister believes that is what my mom wants.

"Oh, I am not checking up on the job you are doing", she told my wife, Lottie, "I call because my mom wants to hear from me, and she wants to know what I am doing."

I wondered if that was really true? Does my mom want to know what my sister is doing everyday? Does my mom want to talk with her everyday? So I went over to my mom and said, "It is Susan on the phone. Let me ask you, do you want Susan to call you everyday?"

Without skipping a beat my mom looked me straight into the eyes and said, "No, not really, but don't tell HER that. I don't want her to feel bad."

I couldn't help laughing because as usual my sister had it all wrong. (Hmm, a little sibling rivalry on my part?) I also laughed because I knew it was good fodder for my blog. By the way, help me here. I am stumped. Based on her comments to Lottie, would you analyze my sister as having a narcissistic personality disorder, being clueless, or is she simply self-centered?

Hold on now, if you are thinking I am letting the cat out of the bag, or throwing my mom under the bus, or going to make my sister feel bad when she reads this--no worries, my sister doesn't read my blog. Never has, never will. (Famous last words?)

My sister has absolutely no interest in my life, thoughts, or cares anything about me. And yes, the phrase you are thinking of, or grasping for, "Dysfunctional Relationship", is correct. To paraphrase a line from Harper Lee's, To Kill A Mockingbird, you can choose your friends, but not your family.

(Now Robin, my friend, it is cringe time!)

Having said all that, my mom is in good shape--in better shape than some of my friends here in Florida. To be honest though, sometimes I wish my mom had dementia. If that were the case, I could put her in a chair in front of the television, let her drool on herself all day long, and I could go about my business as usual.

Instead, I have to actually interact with her. So, while she is here she shadows me and Lottie as we go about our day. We went over to a friends' house to water their plants, my mom was by our side. We went to get gas, my mom was by our side. We went to the supermarket, my mom was by our side.

And having her by our side means everything takes forever because her cadence is a slow motion, shuffle, of baby steps. And the questions--the questions never stop, which means me and Lottie do a lot of VERY LOUD talking in public places.

Edith: "Are those the small ones or the regular ones? I don't like the small ones."

Lottie, apologetically to gawking stranger: "She is 101, legally blind, and hearing impaired. I am sorry."

Gawking Stranger: "Oh, don't be sorry." And then turning to my mom she says, "I don't like the small ones either!"

I also wish she had dementia because she says and does things that are very frustrating that make me want to smack her upside the head.

One morning I was toasting a bagel for her. "I like it dark, not light, dark, very dark," she told me three times as I was prepping breakfast. Well, as the bagel was browning in the toaster oven my mom distracted me (surprise-surprise) and before I knew it, her bagel was not light, dark or even very dark, it was burnt to a crisp--charcoal black.

Pissed, but not showing it, (as hard as that is to believe), I was going to toss the bagel and toast her a fresh one. But no, she insisted that she wanted it. In fact she said, "I like it like that!"

Who am I to argue with a 101 year old woman? (Don't answer that.) So, reluctantly I gave it to her, but not before I scraped some of the charred areas away. Of course, she insisted I shouldn't do that, but I didn't listen to her and I continued to scrape away.

As I am about to put the daily bagel in the toaster oven for her, she looks at me and says, "Make sure you don't toast it like yesterday. That was much too dark. I didn't care for it very much. It was much too dark."

So, with an under the breath sigh, and a shake of my head, I make the bagel. I show it to her. I let her her feel it. I ask if it good, or if it should be toasted more. She tells me it is perfect. I ask if she is sure. She says she is sure. I am happy. I did it right. I smile to myself. She eats it. She tells me it was very good. "Perfect" she says.

As I am about to put the bagel in the toaster oven for her, I feel as if I am in the movie Groundhog Day. Suddenly my mom looks at me and says, "Howie, can you make the bagel a little darker today. Yesterday it was a little too light. Not too much darker, but a little. It was a drop too light and soft yesterday."

Add to all of this my wife's generous and perky personality, who by nature wants to immerse my mom in every activity availble to us, half of which my mom wouldn't like or appreciate!

"Howie, let's take your mom to the pool."
"Lottie, she doesn't go into the water, so what's the point?"

"Howie, let's take your mom to the art show."
"Lottie, she can't see, so what's the point?"

"Howie, let's take your mom to the Wine Down Wednesday concert."
"Lottie, she can't hear the music, never liked music when she could hear it, and she doesn't drink, so what's the point?"

"Howie, let's take your mom to bocce."
"Why, so she can drop a 2 pound, rock hard, solid clay ball on her toe?"

But believe it or not, this blog is not about my mom's visit, it is about expecting the unexpected.

I never know what to expect from my mom when she visits. Her visits always result in many unexpected events, conversations and experiences, which I actually like. So, when I made arrangements with Mr. Arm to visit his, and Velda von Minx's home, Trundle Manor, in Pittsburgh, I didn't really know what to expect either.

When I walked up the steep concrete steps (flanked on both sides with the most unkempt lawn I have ever seen), and noticed the coffin on the porch, I knew my wife, daughter, and I were about to have a truly interesting experience. And indeed we did.

You see, I enjoy visiting unusual attractions when I visit a city. And Trundle Manor fit the bill. Whether it is a "Behind The Scenes" back stage tour of Radio City Music Hall, an impromptu visit to a Fortune Cookie Factory, or like I did many years ago with Lottie and her brother, Steve, simply hanging out in a radio station with a DJ at 1:00 AM, I try to find things that are not listed in a city's "Must Do" book of tourism. When you do, you never know what to expect.

Don't get me wrong, I like visiting traditional places such as Alcatraz Island, Niagara Falls, Las Vegas Strip, etc., but my preference is finding off-beat places and things to do when traveling, (many which turn out to be tours of food factories of some sort) like visiting a commercial bread factory, a potato chip factory, a chocolate factory, even a matzo factory. Thus, it is understandable I also enjoy finding obscure places to visit in my own backyard.

1- I have gone to a free circus that features among other things, trained dogs, a trained cat, and a child trapeze artist. Let me tell you, when those dogs came running in on their hind legs, with their male junk flailing in the wind...well, need I say more?

2- I discovered that I live near the Disney Wilderness Preserves, which has a number of nondescript walking trails, with one that leads to an interestingly picturesque area of Lake Russel and a shady picnic area.

3- I visited the Monument of States, which is listed in the National Register of Historic Places. It is just a few minute walk away from the Florida National Scenic Trail and Kissimmee Lakefront Park, which hosts a variety of street festivals.

4- I learned some Kissimmee fun facts. Kissimmee is one of about three dozen Florida cities to offer Freebee car service. Freebee is a convenient way to travel around Downtown Kissimmee at no cost, and you get to do it in style via a Tesla. Also, downtown Kissimmee, including the area by Lakefront Park, has free parking galore.

5- And when I talk about expect the unexpected that was what happened when I checked out Lake Eva in Haines City. It has a beach, pavilions, walking areas, fishing pier and a very nice water park with a pool ($5.00 during its seasonal hours) featuring fun stuff like pop-up water streams, a water slide, an always fun water dump bucket and of course the pool. A perfect get-away place for an afternoon if you have children visiting.

And the great thing about these discoveries, they are all within an hour of my home, giving me a cache of things to do with out of town guests when we want to leave the "compound".

And just a couple weeks ago, I discovered another interesting place, the Soap Museum in Orlando!

Of course, the Soap Museum will not pop up if you search online for the top things to do in Orlando, but it really exists, and Lottie and I found it quite interesting. Not only did we get a private tour of the museum, we also got a private tour of their soap reclamation factory, The WASH Foundation Processing Plant, where they take discarded soap and soap products from various sources including hotels and soap manufacturers, mainly Unilever...

SIDE BAR -- Unilever is a British multinational consumer packaged goods company. Besides being the largest producer of soap products in the world with U.S. known brands including, but not limited to Dove, LifeBuoy, Lux, Lever 2000, Caress, Dawn, Tressemme Shampoo-they also own Ben and Jerry's, Breyers, Fudgesicle, Popsicle, Magnum, Klondike, Knorr, Hellmann's, Lipton, Brut, Q-Tips, Noxzema, Vaseline, Liquid I.V., and more. Bet you thought some of those were USA companies!-- END SIDE BAR

Anyway, in the The WASH Foundation's soap reclamation factory they grind, clean, sanitize, remold, package and ship the donated soap remnants to countries around the world. According to their web site, hygiene-related illnesses are among the top two causes of childhood mortality worldwide. Approximately 3,600 children under the age of five die every day due to respiratory infections and diarrheal diseases that are preventable.

With access to clean water, proper sanitation, and adequate hygiene, morbidity rates can be reduced by 50% or more. In fact, studies show that hand washing with soap and water is the single most effective way to prevent hygiene-related deaths. And since 2009 The WASH Foundation has helped over 15 million people in 127 countries.

Anyway, I embrace the unexpected, and visiting the Soap Museum was certainly an unexpected experience. But that was not the only unexpected experience I had that week. Unfortunately, my second unexpected experience was not one I could truly embrace.

One of my hobbies, besides writing, is cooking. I am not a great cook, but I hold my own. I can make a steak that rivals the best steak houses, I can make authentic Chinese food, and I make some very good Italian dishes among other things. Even so, I cannot for the life of me make good meat balls, and I am still trying to nail the perfect egg roll.

My specialty is Sicilian pizza--a thick crust square pizza. I make all of it from scratch, even the dough. I would love to make a great thin crust pizza, but to do that you really need to have a commercial, or pizza oven, that can reach a minimum temperature of 700 degrees. My home oven tops off at 550, which is close, but still lacking for real authenticity.

Anyway, I was experimenting to see what tricks I could implement to push my pizza pan higher than the 550 degrees the oven reaches. I got my pan to clock in at slightly over 600 degrees, which is close, but no cigar. And when I grabbed the pan I didn't anticipate I should expect the unexpected.

Well, the pan was so hot my oven mitt literally melted the moment I grabbed the pan. 600 plus degrees of heat instantly shot into my palm and up my fingers turning my hand a bright red. After many a curse word, and grunts of pain, and thrusting my hand in ice cold water I looked at the oven mitt's tag and read "Heat Resistant Up To 350 Degrees".

Well, I now have new silicone oven mitts and have yet to test their heat resistance. The tag does not say what their heat resistance rating is, but I guess I will find out when I try making a thin crust pizza next week!

I guess I am long overdue in wrapping up this blog entry. I will finish with a few random thoughts, comments and observations.

Twistee Treat is an ice cream place near our house. I went there the other night. You can walk up to a window and order, or use the drive-thru to order. I chose the walk up window to place my order. As I waited I watched five cars go to the drive-thru to order, and all five cars received their orders before I received mine. Next time I want ice cream, I will go to SONIC instead.

Despite my earlier stories, Lottie and I did take my mom to the bocce court and let her throw some balls, and she did not drop any of them on her toe. And Lottie did take her to the arts and crafts show. And I have been a fairly good son taking care of her, and keeping her engaged, even though she drives me crazy!

The older I get the more I realize you are never too old to learn. My latest epiphany is that I need to change my internal thinking from "I should" to "I will".

I think the problem with today's politics can be summed up in a quote from Lee Harper's, To Kill A Mockingbird, “People generally see what they look for, and hear what they listen for.”

For a solid fifty years I suffered from cynophobia, an overwhelming fear of dogs. When I finally overcame my fear it was one of the most liberating experiences of my life. Shortly after I overcame my fear I visited an old friend that owns a dog. I was not in the house, but a few minutes and guess what? The dog bit me. Talk about irony!

In helping a friend of mine fight her fear of flying I discovered you can actually go through the TSA checkpoint at Orlando Airport's Terminal C without having a boarding pass. Yes, Orlando and a few other airports now let you go to the gates to meet arriving passengers like the olden days, which I did with my friend and her husband. And as luck would have it, she got the opportunity to talk to two Jet Blue pilots about flying and their experiences. BTW if you or anybody you know are in the aviation industry and willing to meet and talk with my friend please let me know.

Warning: Some entries of this blog contains explicit language and mature content. It may be offensive to some readers.

I am back to my old style, Just some light hearted observations. Nothing political or thought provoking. I hope you enjoy it.

So, I am living down here in Florida for two years now. Recently, I went back north to visit some friends and family. Not only was it my first trip north to visit old friends since my move, it was the first time I traveled without my wife, Lottie, in more than ten years. And it was also the first time I ever crashed at a friend's house in my entire adult life.

I recently asked Lottie about my two week absence.
"Hey, Lottie, how was it while I was gone?"
"Oh, you were gone? I didn't even realize it!"

On the few occasions Lottie went away, and I was home alone, I sure as heck took advantage of it. I ate as much meat as I wanted...hamburger for breakfast, hotdogs for lunch, steak for dinner, and midnight snack--pork chops.

Plus--after each meal the dirty dishes, pots, pans, glasses and silverware all went into the dishwasher, and stayed there until the day before Lottie came home, (which was the only time I did the dishes). I took full advantage of my temporary bachelorhood. I came and went at odd hours, slept in my clothes, and I played my 1970s classic rock music LOUD!

Lottie, on the other hand, actually stayed with her daily routine. At least that is what she tells me.

Before I left Florida I was concerned. I was worried about staying a few days with my friends Pam, and then Steve. I am at that age that certain bodily functions take on a life of their own. A young person has a much better ability to control their pelvic floor muscles, to suppress unwanted farts (and other things). The last thing I wanted while staying at my friends homes was to sit around putt putting my way through conversations!

There are so many highlights I can talk about. Of course, seeing old friends and family are on the top of the list, but I will save those thoughts for another time. I prefer talking about some observations I made during the trip.

I took a very early flight out of Orlando airport. The airport was just waking up as I sat at the gate waiting to board the plane. I was seated facing a jewelry kiosk and an ATM machine. As I sat, a woman was removing the tarp from the kiosk and preparing to open for business. I wondered to myself, how much jewelry is actually sold at that kiosk, if any at all?

I can understand owning a food concession by an airline's departure gate. In fact, if it were a food stand I would have bought myself a snack. But costume jewelry? I mean, who sits at a departure gate waiting to get on a plane and says to themselves, "Damn, I am in the mood for a new necklace!"?

And just as that thought crossed my mind, a woman walks by, looks at some stuff for two minutes, and makes a purchase.

I have nothing against toe rings, and I know wearing toe rings is common place in India. And perhaps there is a Jewelry Kiosk at India's, Delhi's Indira Gandhi International Airport, that does a booming toe ring business, but this isn't India.

Are toe rings such a rare commodity here in Orlando the word on the street is; "Need a toe ring? Go to departure gate 125 at Orlando airport. They can set you up!"

Besides the jewelry stand, I also kept my eyes on the ATM machine. It was the first time I actually saw one get filled with money. It was an interesting process.

It began with a feeble old man pushing a metal platform truck passed my seat. I wouldn't say he was actually pushing it, he was sort of slumped over and leaning on the cart's handle, and as the cart moved forward it appeared it was dragging him along.

I assumed the locked metal trays on the cart's flatbed were loaded with money since a buff, young, bored looking, Orlando, police officer was walking by his side.

When they stopped by the ATM, to feed it a breakfast of ones, fives, tens and twenties thoughts raced through my mind:

And as I sat I could see dozens of airport personnel working, coming, going, and just doing their things. I saw retail workers, cleaning staff, airline staff, TSA agents, cops, and who knows, maybe there was an under cover air marshal or two walking about...so I wondered:

Does this man really need an Orlando police officer escorting him through the terminal?

Who in their right mind would try to rob him? And what threatening weapon are they going to use? Everyone went through screening to get where I was.

"Hey old man, give me your money or I will have to beat you up. And I am telling you, you don't want to get into fisticuffs with me!"

And let's say, for arguments sake, someone did rob the old man, how far will he or she get with the money anyway?

After the old man put money in the ATM, he headed towards the next ATM. As he walked, the bored police officer was now walking about thirty feet in front of him. The cop was not paying any attention to the man he was supposed to be protecting. And as they walked off into the distance, I never saw the cop turn around once to check on the man.

Maybe the cop was thinking the same thoughts as me, "Does this man really need an Orlando police officer escorting him through an airport terminal, one of the safest places in the world?"

Over all, my flight north was quite uneventful. Oh yeh, we did have a slight delay at takeoff because a young boy apparently pooped in his pants. His mom, I assume it was his mom, had to take him into the bathroom to clean him up. The plane had to wait stationary on the runway until they were done, and buckled back into their seats. I imagined the conversation between the pilot and flight control.

FLIGHT CONTROL: "Flight 672 you are clear for take off. Acknowledge."
PILOT: "Pan-Pan, flight control. Pan-Pan. Acknowledge."
Flight Control: "What's the emergency flight 672? Acknowledge."
Pilot: "We have a code Brown on flight 672. We will remain at the holding point until the kid is cleaned up. Acknowledge."
Flight Control: "I read you flight 672. A shitty way to start the flight, hahaha. Acknowledge..."

Side Bar Question--Do we really need airline attendants demonstrate how to buckle a seat belt in this day and age?

Again, I had a great time visiting my friends Pam, Dick, Steve and Denise, but this blog is about my observations traveling north. As an example, I forgot how different the vibe is up north, particularly in New York City.

After spending a few days with my friends in Maryland, I took Amtrak into NYC. The minute I got off of the train at New York's Penn Station I could feel the vibrancy and electric energy that only New York City generates. It was like waking up from a long sleep. If you never were in the heart of New York City, Midtown Manhattan, you have no idea how stimulating a city can be--by just existing.

Oh, here is a useless fact--there are currently four Penn stations in the United States; Baltimore, Newark, Cincinnati and NYC.

Being in New York was great. Getting around is so easy, just hop a train to go to Chinatown, Little Italy, the upper west side, Broadway and beyond. There is so much to see and do whether it is simple things like watching actors rehearsing in Central Park, sitting in Herald Square in front of Macy's (where the Thanksgiving parade is broadcast) to people watch, taking a walk to Strawberry Fields to gaze at the memorial for John Lennon, or simply standing in the heart of Times Square, where the New Year's Eve ball is dropped.

But it is New York's restaurants, museums and of course Broadway shows that set it apart from any other city. In fact, a trip to New York is not complete without seeing a Broadway show, and I was lucky enough to see two shows. And food?

Oh, there are great fancy restaurants, some owned and operated by world renown chefs, but as an ex New Yorker I wanted street food, and Chinese food from one of the many great dives in Chinatown. And pizza, and subs (which they call Heroes in NYC). No fancy places this trip. Just good old greasy food New York is also known for. The fancy places--next year when I return with Lottie so she can meet up with her friends!

Truth be told, before I left on my trip, I thought it would be the last time I would go north, but I was wrong. Barring death or severe illness, I plan on going back at least once a year, and besides Lottie, hopefully my good friends Jim and Shellie will join me on one of those trips. It would be so great to share the NYC experience with someone who has never been there, especially when they are good friends!

Here Are Some Pictures To Check Out!

Most people don't realize the New Year's ball sits on its pole all year long in Times square waiting for its next drop.

People watching in Herald Square in front of Macy's where the Thanksgiving parade is held.

You know you are in an authentic Chinese restaurant when the waiter writes down your order in Chinese.

My daughter, Jennifer, and me with Bob Gale, the script writer of the Back To The Future trilogy, and author of Back To The Future--The Musical.

Warning: Some entries of this blog contains explicit language and mature content. It may be offensive to some readers.

This is a little different than usual. Rather than being all light and humorous, I start out a bit serious, but I lighten it up towards the end. I am not a political person, but I do touch upon politics a bit. And honestly, I am scared traveling down this road because the political realm is a dangerous area to enter in these times. But something compels me to voice my thoughts at this time. I am a person who believes everyone should be able to express their opinion without fear of retribution. I have many friends that feel differently from me politically, and our politics have not come between us so far. I hope if you disagree with my writing you let me know in a nice way, and tell me why because I truly want to hear differing opinions and thoughts. I thank you in advance for reading this.

When I ride my bike
I gingerly
sit down on the seat
To keep
my hemorrhoids in check

My vision is blurry
And I can't
always hear what you say
But yet
I am healthier
and in better shape
than many my age

Getting old takes its toll on you
Regardless who you are
The body breaks down
Slowly
Over time

My stomach gurgles
Informing me
It is time
To sit
On the throne
In the bathroom instead

But then
In the darkness
Of night
You are slapped
Back into reality
By a leg cramp
That grabs you by the balls

Now that I established I am old. Maybe not be as old as my mother who is still alive at 101 years, but I am old. It is funny, I referred to myself as being old last night and a woman my age took offense. I was polite and did not argue with her, but I know the truth.

I always get an age related wake up call when I play a game of pickleball against a friend's twenty-something grandchild, who can run from the back of the court to the net in a blink of an eye--and can play hours on end without ever getting winded.

I knew I was old recently when a buddy of mine took a picture of a sign that was hanging on a wall near two young pretty girls. They thought he was taking a picture of them, and in turn gave him an "ugh, you creepy old man" look.

Any upsides to being old? Sure, there are plenty, but I will save that for another blog entry. Today, I want to be serious. I want to share some old man wisdom and thoughts. Please indulge me for a few minutes.

Presidential campaigning has begun. And as the political arena begins to fill up, you will hear a lot about DEI (short for Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion), WOKE, and a bunch of other catch phrases spoken as if they were awful, horrible things.

Although I personally don't agree with all aspects of DEI or WOKE, they are not the extremely bad things certain politicians make them out to be.

Erica Foldy, an NYU professor, recently explained the movement against these issues by explaining, “They are threaten[ing] because these movements directly undermine the political dominance of conservatives.”

In other words, there is a group of very powerful politicians that feel threatened by the changing population in the United States from white, Christian, heterosexuals, to other skin tones, backgrounds, religions and sexual preferences.

"They are threatened, politically and culturally, by the growing demographic diversity of the US,” says Erica Foldy.

So, rather than accepting the changes in our country, they are saying it is an evil problem that must be attacked and destroyed by any means possible--even if it means destroying the United States of America as we now know it. And no, I am not exaggerating.

"We can't sir, it's theirs. The law says they have full control of everything they have in Florida."

"But that law affects nearly 2,000 special districts in Florida, including The Villages, where over 75,000 retirees live, and who are mostly Republican, and who helped you get elected, sir."

"Well, if you actually throw your hat into the ring you will have to resign being governor."

"Also while we are at it, I think we should remove any book from our schools that talks about diversity, prejudice, sex, equal rights, slavery, the holocaust, LGBTQ+, women's rights, birth control, racism, abortion rights, gun control, gay rights, and everything else I don't like, and might encourage kids to think for themselves."

"We can't do that, it would be outright authoritarianism. Something out of the novels 1984 or the Handmaids Tale."

"We need to make a law, a law that says if just one parent, no not parent, just one person, challenges a book in school it gets pulled, reviewed, and possibly banned, even if that person never read the book. That's it. That's the ticket. This way even if some illiterate, racist idiot, says they don't like a particular book, its pulled."

"But that means even something like Amanda Gorman’s poem The Hill We Climb, which the youth poet laureate recited at Joe Biden’s presidential inauguration, could be pulled for review."

"Also, while we are at it, since I hate drag queens and gay pride parades, lets make all of that stuff illegal too."

"But sir, again, there are laws, and in this case even a United States Constitution that give people certain rights to express their individuality."

"Fuck the constitution. Just craft a sneaky Florida law that will make them think twice about doing their stuff in public."

"In fact, let's make all of the new laws as vague as possible, so no one knows what they really can or can't do, and set the penalties so high--even jail time, so no one will even risk breaking the law.

"I tell you, it is good to be king, uh, I mean governor. Thanks for your help. I need to go, I have a lunch date with some boys I am really proud of."

When talking about the possible fall of our democracy, Daniel Ziblatt, a Harvard political scientist, recently said, “We often think that what we should be waiting for is fascists and communists marching in the streets, but nowadays, the ways democracies often die is through legal things at the ballot box — so things can be both legal and antidemocratic at the same time. Politicians [often] use the letter of the law to subvert the spirit of the law.”

If you have read my other blog entries you know I do not get political, or serious for that matter. So why this time?

Well, my mother is a Holocaust survivor, and an immigrant to this country. And believe it or not, there was a time this country embraced and accepted immigrants, instead of hating them and treating them like animals.

My mother was lucky to make it to the United States. But many in my family were not as fortunate, including her grandfather, (and other family members), who were rounded up like cattle, thrown into concentration camps, and subsequently murdered by the Nazis.

So, I grew up wondering, how did things get that way in Germany? How could a man like Hitler get such power, and be allowed to do the horrible things he did. What kind of society could enable such an evil man? And I grew up asking myself if that could happen here? Never believing it could.

That could never happen here. Not in the United states. We have a Constitution to protect us!

Well, you may have served in the military, or know someone that did. If so, you know the military is here to protect us, and more importantly to protect the U.S. Constitution. So it makes sense if you believe Hitler shit like that will never happen here.

It makes sense you believe our Constitution is strong and solid. That it will protect us whatever we believe. And we embrace the fact the Constitution allows us to be whatever political persuasion we wish, be it left, right or anywhere in between. And there’s no amendment prohibiting liberalism or ultra conservatism.

Yet, my governor, and presidential candidate, Ron DeSantis recently stated he wants to destroy the basis of our constitution. That's right. He said, if he were elected President he will be able to "destroy leftism in this country". Yes, he said that! In other words, he wants to destroy ideals of the left, ideas such as freedom, equality, fraternity, rights, progress, reform and internationalism.

Rightism, is characterized by an emphasis on notions such as authority, hierarchy, order, duty, tradition, reaction and nationalism.

Well, I won't mention any names, but it sounds like someone may have read Hitler's Mein Kampf recently because Hitler also wanted to destroy the left, and get rid of minorities!

Although things in our country are not good right now, I live in a bubble. A terrific gated community protecting me from the world, at least now. But outside my bubble bad things are happening. We are slowly turning into the autocratic government. The type of government many of our military personnel died fighting against in years past. We are slowly losing the freedoms so many generations fought to secure for us :

1-Texas actually passed legislation banning students from communicating with elected officials.

2-At this writing abortion is banned in fourteen states, and in six states it is banned with absolutely no exceptions for rape or incest. And keep in mind, this is being done by politicians that say, when it is convenient, there is too much government intrusion in people's lives!

3-Although, the Mississippi Constitution specifies that voters elect judges for circuit courts, which handle criminal and civil cases. Mississippi just passed a bill to form a court system of unelected judges and prosecutors to preside over part of the majority-Black city of Jackson. So, instead of giving the city's majority-Black residents an opportunity to vote for judges and prosecutors in the court, government officials choose who fills those positions.

4-There are fears if Trump is elected "He’s going to manipulate the levers of government to help himself personally and to go after his enemies...he’s going to turn our government into a third world government.”

I have said my piece. I truly hope you read what I wrote. And just so you know, I am a registered Independent, and have always voted for the person or the issue, not the party.

When I moved here I knew nothing about Florida politics, on a local nor state level. But as time has gone by I began to live and breath Florida politics, and have come to learn that Ron DeSantis is a dangerously, crafty man who has done more harm than good in Florida, and has slowly stripped Floridian's of their rights and freedoms in more ways than people realize. And even though we have many real issues in the state that need attention, his focus is power, and becoming president one day. He does not care about us, here in Florida. In short, he scares me.

On a lighter note, once again I am involved in some personal drama. I live in such a nice retirement bubble if I don't get into tussle about something, life would be too perfect, and too boring in some respects.

Currently, I am trying to change a golf cart parking restriction in my community. I am butting heads with the powers that be to have a small parking strip changed from "Cars Only" to "Cars AND Carts".

Without going into details, the logic and rational why the parking lot is for Cars Only is simply absurd, and thinking about it is making my head spin. Not literally of course, but pretty soon--who knows?

In the two quick years I am living here, I went from being an enthusiastic retiree wearing rose colored glasses, to being a jaded resident challenging the system.

The Brooklyn in me has bubbled back to the surface, which in some respects I like, and in many I don't. Among my new friends the running joke is...if you don't like something that is going on, get Howie, he will ask to see the manager!

Fortunately, I will be taking a trip up north in about a month, so I will get away from the thick of things for a while. And I will have to pass the "I Need To See The Manager" torch to my friend, Mr. Carpenter!

I will be going up north to see old friends, spend time with one of my daughters, and visit my nephew and his family. I will be making the trip on my own, and I am slightly nervous about it.

The first leg of the trip, which will be visiting some old friends and staying in their homes, is what is giving me a bit of anxiety. I am seeing two of my dearest friends from my old life, but this will be the first time I crash at someone's place, other than a family member, in fifty years--and that is what has me ill at ease.

Anyway, it is kind of scary. If I were going with my wife, Lottie, I would be fine. In such situations she fortifies my strength and is my calm. I feel invincible in her presence, as I do with a few other people, but without her or them, it is a struggle. So, my angst and anxiety about the trip is starting to build.

Snoring for one. Will my snoring be so loud I will wake everyone up in the middle of the night? My snoring has been likened to the rattling, booming bass, you hear in your home coming from a car outside blasting the music with their windows closed.

Also of concern, are night time farts. Will I be putt-putting smelly farts in my sleep that will awaken everyone to the warm strong scent of cabbage in the air?

I know I am being silly, but traveling alone is out of my comfort zone. It has always been that way. I even gave up a free, all expenses paid trip to San Francisco years ago because I would have had to go alone.

I realize how privileged I sound if those are the things I worry about. And yes, I am privileged, as are most of the people that read this blog. But these miniscule fears may give way to more serious ones in the near future. For instance, I worry that one day my current governor, Ron DeSantis may be president. I worry because he wants to make the rest of the country "Florida".

No, I am not about to go back into a political rant voicing my concerns about his autocratic policies, blatant racism or thin skinned petty ego, but I will talk about his vision to make the United States, Florida.

First, when he says "Make America Florida", is he saying he wants Canada, Mexico, Chili and all the other countries of North, Central and South America to become Florida too?

Quite frankly, it would be scary if the rest of our country becomes Florida. I live here now, and know what the rest of country would have in store for themselves. To begin, if that happened, every supermarket cross the country would be devoting at least a whole aisle to rice. That's right, rice. Where I live some stores have more rice on their shelves than you would find visiting actual rice patties in Asia.

Besides the usual Short Grain, Medium Grain and Long Grains of white rice by Ben's Famous, nee Uncle Ben's, our stores feature Yellow Rice, Saffron Yellow, Seasoned Yellow, Mexican Yellow, Spanish Yellow, and Parboiled Yellow.

Next on the shelves come the Jasmine rice; Plain Jasmine, Brown Jasmine, Long Grain Jasmine, Cilantro Jasmine, Cilantro Lemon Jasmine and of course Cilantro Lime Jasmine.

Next row down are the Brown rices, which also come in wide variety of grain lengths and styles. And moving along, let us also not forget the rices simply called Mexican Rice, Asian Rice, Suchi Rice and Sticky Rice.

And then we have dozens, if not hundreds of prepackaged flavored rice offerings from Rice A Ronie, Minute Rice, Ben's, Mahatma, Goya, Virgo, Cochita, Rico, Dixie Lily, Zatarains, Iberia and more.

Also, if the rest of the United States becomes Florida, think about cars. You heard the jokes. Well, they're true. So get ready to see a lot more cars on the highway in front of you with one of its directional lights flashing mile after mile as the car just continues to go straight. Oh, and let's add to that, it will be traveling ten miles under the speed limit.

Here are a few more things. If the United States becomes Florida, every local highway you now use will become a toll road. Every doctor will have gotten their degree in Puerto Rico. And every three blocks will have a Walgreens, a barber shop and a Family Dollar store!

As much as I like Florida, I would hate to see the rest of the country become Florida. And suffice it to say, if you read this entire entry, you also know I would hate to see the man that currently runs Florida, and he does run it, run our country at large in the future.

Warning: Some entries of this blog contains explicit language and mature content. It may be offensive to some readers.

1-There are always many ways to look at a situation. What you are about to read is my perspective.

2-This is not my normal flip, sarcastic look at a situation. This is a more serious blog entry.

When I last left you dear readers I told you I was about to embark on a new journey, one as the leader (captain) of my neighborhood. I said we were looking at the ship's empty plank, but questioned whether I would be walking down the thin narrow wooden platform to be plunged into the cold, shark infested water, or be pulled off the ship and hoisted on the shoulders of friends and neighbors in celebration with chants of "YAY CAPTAIN HOWIE" in the background?

Well, it was not smooth sailing since I asked those questions. My neighbors, (many whom I know and others that I did not know), were extremely excited to see me step up. But the waters were rough, the waves came crashing, and although I held tight to the ship's wheel, I finally gave up and let the ship capsize.

As I explained to my local friends and neighbors, I looked forward to being the Neighborhood Captain, but things did not work out because I was faced with too many constraints. Originally, I was told I would have the freedom to be myself, and the ability to do things in my style and at my pace, provided I followed the legal statutes of our community's Master Declaration and Florida law, but that was not the case.

The procrastination, incompetence, and over reach by the Captains Program leadership in its desire to control what I said, or how I performed in my role, was more than I could accept. So, we parted ways.

How do I feel about being the shortest reigning captain ever? I am both sorry, and relieved things did not work out. I am sorry because I think my neighborhood needs fresh blood pumped into it, and I along with a bunch of neighbors were ready to take on the task. Yet, I am relieved because I am actually a shy person, and I was pushing myself out of my comfort zone. Plus, I knew it was going to take a lot of time and effort to accomplish the goals I had set for myself. So, now I have more time for pickleball, bocce, fishing and drinking vodka!

Having vented, and getting the captain adventure out of my system, it is time to get to the real meat of this blog update, and that is incompetence. It's funny, I didn't realize until now, and it wasn't planned, that this is a nice segue I am executing--to the topic of incompetence after speaking about, what I believe to be, the incompetent leadership of the Captains Program in my community!

To begin, I believe I am fairly intelligent. Need proof? I was able to type the word "intelligent" without having to rely on spell check. I can watch Jeopardy without feeling intimidated, and I can hold my own in a game of Scrabble. But I don’t consider myself to be very smart by any means.

When my daughters took calculus and statistics in high school they were on their own. My math skills peaked at long division. Ask me to do anything mathematical beyond adding, subtracting, multiplying or dividing, and my head begins to spin. I may suck in math, but I am pretty handy around the house. I can do electrical work, a bit of plumbing, build things, cook, and I know a heck of a lot about computers. But in this day and age we need to rely on others to survive.

We need doctors to take care of our bodies, dentists to take care of our teeth, auto mechanics to take care of our cars, HVAC technicians to take care of our air conditioners and so forth. When something major goes wrong in our lives we depend on the expertise and knowledge of others to fix it.

At one time that wasn’t a problem. People seemed to take pride in their work, and gave you their all. Professionals worked for themselves, and neighborhood companies were family owned businesses. But as time marched on something happened. Professionals banded together and became small conglomerates. Neighborhood doctors suddenly opened an associated practice with other doctors. And local blue collar shops like the neighborhood garage gave way to corporate entities like Jiffy Lube and Pep boys. When we lost the small family businesses and neighborhood professionals, we lost pride, integrity, humanity and most of all, competence. Although there are exceptions, particularly in very small towns, corporate America is taking over every aspect of our lives.

Before moving to Florida I lived in a small town, Reisterstown, MD, and it was hard to find a good doctor, dentist or mechanic. That’s not to say I didn't find one, but it was difficult. I was extremely lucky to have a mechanic who was honest, reasonable and decent. He was an "old school" mechanic that could tear down a transmission, rebuild an engine, or overhaul a carburetor, but given the computerization of modern cars, and how complicated of a machine they are, there were many things he simply couldn't repair.

One time my Check Engine Light went on because I did not tighten the gas cap properly, and my car went into a special protective mode. After which the car would not accelerate beyond 50 MPH, not even after the gas cap was tightened and the Check Engine Light went off. My mechanic was stumped, so I turned to the Internet for help. After a bit of searching I learned that the transmission fuse must be pulled out for five minutes for the car to reset its self. It doesn’t bother me that I needed to figure out the problem on my own and then call my mechanic, who still had my car at his shop, and tell him how to fix it because I knew he was trying his best and was simply stumped. What does bother me is an unscrupulous mechanic that tries to scam me.

I once brought my car into my local Mazda dealership for certain repairs because my mechanic said he couldn’t do the job, and he felt the dealership was the best place to have the work done. So, besides having the dealership work on the problem at hand, I also asked them to look at one of the interior reading lights because the switch wasn’t working. They called me later in the day and said it would be about $125 to repair the light because it needed a new switch. I told them to forget it. I didn’t really use the light, and they were already sucking more than enough money out of me at the time. And I just didn’t want to spend another $125.

So, as I previously mentioned, I am pretty handy. After I got my car back I decided to take a look at the reading light. I popped open the cover and looked it over. What did I find? I discovered I didn’t need a new $125 switch, which probably cost $5.00 at AutoZone, what it needed was for someone to tighten a resistance screw that had come loose. I tightened the screw and the light worked. Now, that made me angry. As did the time the HVAC repair man came to my house and charged me $450 to install a $25 capacitor that took seven minutes because that was the going rate!

But I digress. This essay is supposed to be about incompetence. Once upon a time UPS delivered a new HD cable box from Comcast to replace our old cable box. Upon opening the package I bet my wife the box wasn’t configured properly, and that it would not work. Sure enough, I hooked it up and it did not work. I checked the box's hidden internal menu (I know how to do such things--I told you I was handy) and the data stated, “No IP Address. Not Configured”.

I called Comcast and very slowly, and in the simplest terms I could muster, I told the help desk person what was wrong, and how to fix it. What was the response I got? “I am sorry sir, but a technician needs to come to your house to fix it. Let me set up an appointment for you.”

Two days later I stayed home for three hours waiting for the technician. When he arrived he accessed the secret menu (he knew how to do it too) and read, “No IP Address. Not Configured”.

He called Comcast and very slowly, and in the simplest terms he could muster, he told the help desk person what was wrong, and how to fix it. What was the response he got? “No problem, I will have it done in a minute”.

The older I get, the less patience I have for such nonsense. Back in 1967, The Chambers Brothers sang "Time Has Come Today", which basically says we should appreciate the time we have, and accept that life is short. Well, I agree, and I live my life celebrating the unknowns of time, by doing things before it is too late. I have seen too much sudden tragedy in my life, and value each and every day. Where is this all leading?

Although I am not the captain of my neighborhood, I am humbled by the experience. Many of my friends and neighbors were more devastated than me the "powers at large" created a restrictive atmosphere and would not give me the autonomy needed to do a great job for our neighborhood. The outpouring of support I received this week brought me to tears. I understood what Sally Fields meant many years ago when she said she (and this is the real quote) "...and I can't deny the fact, you like me, right now, you like me!"

There is nothing like knowing, and understanding, you are appreciated. Sally Fields was appreciated for her performance as an actress, and me, for wanting to do something good for my neighborhood. I thank all of my friends and neighbors for making me feel special once again!

PS--Since I am not the neighborhood captain, and I like posting pictures, below is a collage I made for our bocce club. The pajamas tournament was fun!

Warning: Some entries of this blog contains explicit language and mature content. It may be offensive to some readers.

Back in December I posted what was to be my last blog entry, but so many people have urged me to resume I decided to do periodic updates. To those of you that have convinced me to reconsider, and I say this with love, "I hate you with a passion!"

With the radio on in the background, I was brushing my teeth thinking about topics to discuss in this blog entry. As the electric toothbrush whirled across my teeth, the minty toothpaste and saliva mixture drooled down my chin. Making sure the rabid looking foam fell into the sink and not on my pillbox, I said to myself as if I never noticed it before, "I have a pillbox. I really am old!"

Yes, I know, there are young people that need to take daily medications. My heart goes out to them. But I think when you go into a person's home, and you see a pillbox anywhere in the home, it is a good assumption to conclude it belongs to an old person. Anyway, as the minty foam continued streaming down my chin, the news stories on the radio intermingled with my thoughts.

THOUGHT--"Look at me, spittle running down my face like an old man. Like an old man? I am an old man. How the hell did that happen? Where did the time go? Spittle, pills, aches and pains. Getting old is no picnic."

NEWS---"Weather around the country today. Chicago will see a high of twenty seven and a low of fifteen, and in New York..."

NEWS--"Carlson, Hannity, Ingraham and company were knowingly lying to their audiences."

THOUGHT--"Toothpaste tablets? Maybe they are spittle-free. Hmm, I wonder, am I the only person that needs to take a shower after brushing their teeth?"

As thoughts raced through my head I began thinking about this blog, and what I should write. Maybe I should discuss things that I talk about with my friends. We talk a lot about our common interests such as playing pickleball, drinking, going to Disney, drinking, our families, drinking, and of course drinking!

But the main topics of conversation are really about our aches, pains, medical issues, ailments, and of course, going to doctors. Oh, for those of you that are still young, embrace your conversations about your jobs, movies, politics, music, future plans, etc., because the time will come your conversations with friends will center around your health, and deteriorating body.

The funny thing is, I associate with a wide variety of intelligent people. Some stopped their formal education at the high school level, others have PHDs. Regardless, they are all smart with terrific insight, and bring unique perspectives to conversations. We could be talking about more interesting things besides my last colonoscopy. I know many of my friends have a completely different point of view than I. Yet we hardly ever discuss serious topics such as politics, world events, climatic issues, etc. Since we come from many different backgrounds, and our experiences are like night and day, serious conversation about, let's say, politics, (and there is a lot we can talk about these days), could lead to an interesting, respectful, and open minded discourse allowing us to understand opposing views better.

Who am I kidding? In this time of deep polarization I believe it is more than likely, serious conversations would lead to heated discussions, and loss of friends. How sad is that!

So, I along with my friends, travel down the safer road talking about our pains, aches, and doctors. And I am right there in the mix. And many of the aches and pains we talk about are pickleball related. People have knee injuries, shoulder tears, and pulled muscles. Many of my friends talk about their injuries, (or sometimes gloat about them), with medical jargon as if they are Dr. Kildare evaluating a patient. It is not uncommon to hear multiple conversations at a pickleball court sprinkled with phrases like Meniscus Tear, Hamstring Strain, Herniated Disk, and of course the very popular, Rotator Cuff Injury.

Me? I just say my feet hurt, my back hurts, my arm hurts, my shoulder hurts, etc. Here is the type of conversation I would have with a friend if I had a pickleball related injury.

---
THE CONVERSATION--A short Play.
All scenes take place with the two characters sitting on a bench by the pickleball court.

TUESDAY
Howie says, "I'm not playing pickleball today, I going to the podiatrist later to check out my feet."

WEDNESDAY
Howie Says, "I'm not playing pickleball today, and my doctor says I should never play again."

John says, "Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I will really miss playing with you. So, what do you plan to do?"

I feel bad for many of the people I know. I really have been very fortunate medically speaking. My body is in relatively good shape. All my body parts are in tact, and original. I know people with more manufactured parts in their body than the Bionic Man or Woman. But I am not here to talk about aches, pains, replacement hips and knees, I am here to discuss--actually, I don't know what I am here to discuss. Let's find out together where this goes!

Since I was talking about my friends, I would like to talk about the fragility of friendships. Although I have many new friends here in Florida, and I value those friendships, the truest friendships are those that withstand the test of time. I am fortunate to still have friends from my childhood. We do not see each other often, but we take the time to connect with one another periodically. Maintaining long term friendships take work, as do all friendships, and it can't be a one sided effort.

I received an email from an old friend this week, in part she wrote, "...we are loosing [our] connection...if we drift apart I will keep you in my thoughts & heart...miss you...wanted to tell you." I was floored. Naturally, I wrote back immediately, and she responded just as quickly. For me, the key to maintaining friendships is communication. If one of the persons feels something is wrong, it is imperative the two people be honest with one another, and discuss the relationship, just as my friend from Maryland did with me. In fact, I dedicate this blog entry to her!

Continuing on the friends front, I talked to a very old childhood friend of mine this week, with whom I expect to be friends until I die. He told me about his recent trip to Indonesia and how it far exceeded his expectations. Spending time with his sister, who lives there, and not on a tourist jaunt staying in first class hotels, he met and interacted with the real folks that live there. And his takeaway from it was--he could not believe he was still on the planet earth--everyone, and he emphasized, "everyone" was happy. No one ever got angry, or had an attitude regardless what was going on. People were relaxed, always smiling, always chill and totally stress free. It was a completely different mind set, attitude, and way of life than we experience. Well my friends, I now have a new purpose and goal in life--to transform my little world here in Florida into Indonesia!

Long story short--our community has about 5,000 homes. The community is broken down into neighborhoods. My neighborhood is Verona. There are 185 homes my neighborhood. Well, each neighborhood has a captain, which in essence is like a powerless mayor LOL. The captain is in charge of fostering community spirit, setting up events, disseminating HOA information, being a conduit if a resident has issues, etc. By being the new captain, or should I say "sucker", I will have the opportunity to work with my neighbors to see my vision become a reality.

For those of you that know me from my former life you might be asking, is that Howie or an imposter? Well, I ask myself that everyday. What the heck happened to me here? How did mister attitudinal, anti social, hates people guy hailing from the streets and projects of New York City turn into Captain Howie, the smiling, waving, friendly social man most people seem to like? I sure don't know, but this stuff agrees with me.

Right now I don't have a care in the world. I am happy almost all of the time. I am living a great life style. The weather is terrific, even when it is cold (cold is a relative word). There is so much to do, and most people are nice. And above all, I have time. I have the time to work hard and see my dream come to fruition. I think the odds are ever in my favor. But are they? Life sometimes throws you a curve ball, so let's stay tuned to see what happens.

Will the neighborhood be chanting my name joyfully--"Captain Howie, Captain, Captain, YAY Captain Howie"?

Your guess is as good as mine. Time will tell. So, stay tuned for part two of this blog entry, The Captain's Log.

Warning: Some of this blog contains explicit language and mature content. It may be offensive to some readers.

I began this blog about a year ago. It was a lazy man's way to keep in contact with family, and friends old and new. I enjoyed writing it and appreciated the positive feedback I received. Thank you all so much for your support. I would love to continue writing forever and ever, but I am running out of things to say, so this will be the last entry.

2022 was the first full calendar year I spent living in Florida. And what a year it was. It was marked with new experiences, new friends and a whole new lifestyle. As we embark on a new year, I was thinking that many people make New Year's Resolutions at the start of the year. I do not. Instead, I do a New Year's Assessment. I think back to where I was a year ago and compare it to where I am now. Not just in a materialistic or financial sense, but my emotional state of mind, my physical health, overall well being, and general appearance.

I think about my happiness factor, and my relationships with friends and family. I also assess whether I achieved the personal goals I had set for myself last year. And of course, I examine any setbacks I had over the year. In short, I look back at my year-long journey to determine how it went, and think about how I would like the upcoming year to unfold. I also look closely into a metaphorical mirror to determine if I am happy with what I see and I look into a real physical mirror to see if I notice any changes to my physical appearance, which I did today. When I looked today, I saw something I did not see a year ago, a man with wild unkempt hair who needs to shave!

As I said at the start, this blog was a lazy man's way of keeping contact with others, and I am somewhat lazy. For instance, I am lazy when it comes to shaving. Luckily for me, I never had much facial hair so I rarely had to shave. Some men can grow a beard in a matter of days. I on the other hand could only grow a group of straggly hairs here and there on my cheeks. Throughout adulthood I only had to shave about once a week. There was a time I tried growing a mustache and it came out looking like I just drank a glass of chocolate milk.

As I got older, and entered my senior years, things changed. Besides new aches, pains, and sudden painful leg cramps in the middle of the night, which cause me to spring out of bed to walk it off (unless I get tangled up in the bed sheet or blanket and flop around in pain like a fish out of water), becoming a senior ushered in a new crop of hair.

Suddenly, I was growing hair on my ears, out of my nose, and my eyebrows--don't get me started on my eyebrows--they became darker, thicker and totally out of control. But a beard? I still couldn't grow a beard, until now.

So here I am, old and tired with no desire to have facial hair, and I discover if I don't shave for a week, a decent amount of stubble forms on my face creating what appears to be the start of a decent circle beard, (mustache with goatee). And the funny thing is, people seem to like that look on me, especially when my hair is wild and unruly.

I am so tempted to let it grow and see what happens, but I am lazy. If I actually let it grow I will have to start grooming it, trimming it, cleaning up my cheeks, and do whatever else needs to be done to keep it looking good. Nope, much easier to run an electric razor across my face for two minutes once a week. I told you I was lazy. But as I write this, I actually haven't shaved for a week and a half--the longest I have gone in years.

I promised my friend, Jackie, I would not shave before I see her again, which will be in a few days from now. So I am discovering what would happen if I stopped shaving. One thing I learned is my hair is growing in darker than I expected. Yet when I take a selfie, my facial hair can hardly be seen. Very strange. I also discovered there are a few white hairs growing under my right nostril, and from a distance they look like a strand of snot hanging out of my nose. Get me some mascara please!

Another change I implemented during the past year is giving a few people my phone number. No one ever had my number, but I now belong to a variety of groups that need to have my number to keep me updated on events. Unfortunately, it was a big mistake, and I am seriously thinking of changing my number and go off the group phone grid. Mobile phones have always been a pet peeve of mine. Not the phones themselves, but how people use them. And now I am more annoyed than ever.

I think we can all agree how annoying it is if you are in a small public place, such as a doctor's waiting room, and someone pulls out their phone and has an energetic conversation with a friend or relative totally oblivious to the fact their voice is booming throughout the room. Or what about the times you are having a conversation with a person and you suddenly notice they are peering down at their phone screen rather than being engaged with you?

Or you watching a movie or a show with someone when you gasp, "Wow!", which prompts your viewing partner to ask, "What? What happened?", because rather than watching the action they were checking their phone to look up at IMDB who that familiar actor was on screen a few minutes ago.

All of that bothers me, but not as much as peoples' texting habits. And it is the group texts I am receiving that want me to give up my current number.

First, as I see it, the beauty of a text is that it can be quick and immediate. You were supposed to meet someone at ten o'clock, but you are running late. So you shoot off a quick text, "Sorry, running ten minutes late". And if the person wants to acknowledge receipt, a simple,"K", is all that is needed.

But no, people send long winded information such as, "Sorry I am running late. I was about to leave, but my neighbor stopped by. Even though I explained I had an appointment he didn't take the hint. So, I should be there a little late. Maybe about ten minutes later. Sorry :-("

NO, NO, NO. You can explain that later when you are together, if you feel an explanation is necessary.

Am I then expected to reply, "Oh, no problem, I understand. Those things happen. Get here when you can. Don't rush. I don't want you to get into an accident. See you in a while :-)"?

Text message updates are not conversations. The key word here is "updates". That is not to say that long text messages don't have their place (and as many of you know, I can send some of the longest text messages you ever read), but know when to keep it short!

Second peeve is the person that stops dead in their tracks the moment a text arrives because they must read it at that very moment. And then, as if that is not bad enough, they feel compelled to respond to the text immediately.

Honestly, does your daughter, who just sent you a text with flight information for her upcoming visit next month really need to hear, at the moment she sent you the text, you can't wait to see her and that you love her? Can't you reply later, when you are not in the middle of a conversation with me? But my main text peeve is about group text threads.

Until this year I was never part of a group text thread, except with Lottie and my two daughters. But now, I am in a few of them, some with more than a dozen people. But each group was formed for a specific purpose, usually to let group members know if an event or meeting is canceled.

Great, perfect, efficient. One quick message out to everyone with key information--exactly the way it is suppose to be, BUT and I write the word "but" in all caps because it is a big but (the five year old inside me is smirking "He said Big Butt") I take issue when members of the thread hijack the thread for their own irrelevant nonscence.

"Hey everyone. Hope you are okay. Wish I was there with you. But I am not. Take care of yourselves. I hope to see you soon. SMILE EMOJI-HEART EMOJI-KISS EMOJI"

And then, then the thread blows up. The ten to twenty other folks on the thread start writing "Yea, I miss you also." "Love you." "HUG EMOJI" "Hope you are okay too. Stay safe." "Great to hear from you." "HEART EMOJI" And on and on until everyone has responded.

NO, NO, NO. It is not great to hear from you. In fact, I don't really know you. And now I am not sure if I ever do want to know you. I just want to know if our Pineapple Lovers meeting has been canceled. I don't want my phone blowing up for fifteen minutes with that other crap. I am only in the group thread to receive club information. If you want to talk with your friends, make a thread with your friends. Don't hijack a thread for your own purposes. It isn't right, fair, or considerate.

Well, there would be a lot of things I would be doing the morning of my anniversary with my wife, but I certainly would not pull out my phone and wish her a Happy Anniversary in a club's text thread!

And of course, you guessed it, after the initial text, everyone on the thread started sending congrats messages--the thread went on all day long, back and forth, back and forth. What do you plan on doing today? How long have you been married? So happy for you. Emoji, emoji, emoji, and on and on and on.

So, now you know the real Howie. A curmudgeon, at least as far as group texts are concerned.

Anyway, enough of this fiddle-faddle. That's a phrase I never thought I would use. It is time for me to put this blog to bed. It was fun to write, but it is a new year and time to move on. Before I move on, some final words about our life here in Florida.

Lottie and I are glad we made the move. We have met a lot of wonderful people, have a nice home, and are busy everyday. This community is terrific. Although we do have a rainy season, and it can get cold for a short period of time during the winter, the weather here in Central Florida is ideal. There is a lot to do here, and we are never bored. It is great when family and friends come to visit, and we hope to have more visitors in the future. For us, this was the right move to make. And finally, thanks again for indulging me. Thanks again for your support. And most of all, thanks for letting me vent. I wish you all a Very Happy New Year!

Warning: This blog contains explicit language and mature content. It may be offensive to some readers.

Hello one and all. For this entry I was going to write about procrastination, but I decided to put that off for the time being. No groans please. Cheap jokes are my specialty!

Now, to be serious, I have decided to stop being a nice person. That's right, no more mister nice guy. It just doesn't pay. Today, for instance, Lottie needed to report for jury duty in, Bartow, a town about an hour away from us by car. She needed to be there by eight in the morning. Besides traffic being unpredictable during morning drive time, she had no idea where she was going, where to park, etc., so she decided to leave at six thirty, the time she usually first gets out of bed. To be nice, before I went to bed last night I prepared a pot of coffee to be ready for brewing when she got up.

Side Bar - We are old school. We still use a percolator to make our coffee. In fact, it is a Farberware electric percolator that is more than thirty years old, if not older. We tried drip machines, sampled Kuric cups, we own a French press, and we delved into other brewing methods. But the Farberware percolator makes a steaming hot cup of coffee that just can't be beat if you know what you are doing!

Anyway, Lottie got up this morning at five thirty, plugged the pot in, and a minute later I hear her frantically calling me.

Huh? What? I thought to myself. I was still in bed, and couldn't make out what she said. Yet by the tone of her voice I knew something was up.

"What? What did you say, Lottie?" I hollered back as I got out of bed and headed to the kitchen. But I didn't need a reply. As I stumbled my way through the bedroom, and opened the door, I could smell the foul odor of something smoking and burning. And when I entered the kitchen I could see the now unplugged coffee pot billowing smoke. As I inhaled the smoke I thought to myself, this probably isn't good for my COPD!

Although Lottie had no idea what the problem was, I knew right away. You see, when I prepared the coffee for her last night, I wanted to do an extra special job. Rather than using pre-ground coffee I opened a bag of coffee beans, and ground them to the right consistency for the pot. I then carefully measured the ground beans to ensure the resulting pot of coffee would be the strength she preferred. It was a perfect pot in all respects, except one...I forgot to put water in the pot!

Punished for trying to do good. Yes, it was because of my own incompetence, but still not fair.

Side Bar - Most of you don't know this, but every month I seem to offend at least one person with my blog. Well, someone is about to be offended right now.

People often ask me why I am an atheist. I see it this way, if there really was a god people who did nice things, like trying to prepare coffee in advance for their spouse, would get rewarded not punished. I may be incompetent, but if there was a god, god would be looking out for me. Since god is reputed to have the ability to perform miracles, water should have been in the pot this morning. Unless of course, god is a wise assed little prick and enjoys seeing us suffer!

Case in point. Our daughter Emily is very sweet. Years ago she was visiting us in Maryland. While Lottie and I were at work Emily noticed our lawn needed mowing. With good intent she pulled the lawn mower out from our shed, topped it off with gas and attempted to start it up and mow our lawn.

Unfortunately, the mower wouldn't start up no matter how many times she pulled the cord. She tried to be nice, but couldn't pull it off. Thanks god for your help. You couldn't turn that engine over for her? Geez!

Anyway, when I come home Emily tells me what happened and that's when I discover she erroneously poured the gas into the engine oil tank, not the gas tank. She tried to do a good thing, but it didn't pan out. Although I flushed the system repeatedly it was beyond repair, and a new mower needed to be purchased.

Thanks again god for helping a well intentioned human being--and making me buy a new lawn mower!

Where we live, once a month they have a Big Money Bingo night with the final jackpot being $250.00. They also have door prizes. As you walk in you get a ticket for a door prize. Although Lottie likes to play Big Money Bingo, she never gets bingo, and has never won a door prize.

Recently Lottie went to Big Money Bingo. When she got to the entrance, rather than walking in, she politely let the person she was with go in first.

And what happened? You guessed it. The lady won a door prize with the ticket that would have been Lottie's.

As I said earlier, my days of being mister nice guy are over. Where do we go from here? We give birth to bad taste Howie! Yes, the birth of bad taste Howie is upon us. And here comes the first contribution to the blog by bad taste Howie. Read it at your own risk.

When I was young taking a leak was awesome if I drank a couple of beers ...unzip the fly and the urine shot out at a hundred miles an hour. In less than thirty seconds I was washing my hands and ready to have another dozen beers. But now the thrill is gone.

I can drink beer until my bloated stomach is about to explode, and when I finally go to the bathroom it is a crap shoot. Most of the time I stand in front of the urinal waiting, waiting and waiting. It can take an uncomfortably long time before anything happens. Many times the urine just flows out at an old man pace, but more often it is like stop and go traffic...there is a mild flow, it stops, then continues, stops, continues, etc.

One day when I needed to go to the bathroom my urine actually said to me, "Hey man, do I really need to come out?" I said, "yes" and it said back to me, "okay, but I am not happy about it" and it took its damn time slowly dribbling out at its leisure.

Well, maybe I imagined that conversation, but the truth is there are times I am lucky if I'm done in about five minutes. Knowing it can take me an extremely long time to take a whiz, when I go to a public bathroom I won’t use a urinal...if I did, I could be arrested for loitering.

"Yes, officer, he has been hanging out at that urinal for two days now. I think something is up!"

I will continue this blog with a bit of holiday cheer, final thoughts, some pictures, and local info for my friends and neighbors here in Solivita. To begin, below is a picture of our downtown village decorated for the holiday season. I am waiting for the Hallmark movie crew to set up their cameras! How did they miss this location?

I hope everyone had a nice Thanksgiving holiday. Mine was terrific. My children came to visit, and we had a lovely time together when we weren't experiencing our dysfunctional family dynamics, as all families do from time to time. Our holiday dinner came out great, and as usual, there was way too much food for the four of us. Next year their husbands must fly down as well...we need the help eating the food fellows!

During their visit we went over to Bok Tower and Gardens, which is not far from our home. It was a pleasant way to spend a few hours, and by chance we ran into our friends and neighbors, Dan and Vickie, (they live two houses down from us) who were leaving as we arrived (what are the odds). Before they left they took a few awesome family picture of us. Thank you, friends!

Also, I want to thank Jim and Shellie for joining us at the International World Flea Market in Auburndale, and indulging me by sitting through the free half hour circus and magic show. I love finding quirky things like that, and when the trained, male poodles, came out on their hind legs in a conga line, with their junk flailing in the wind, I knew I found ultimate quirkiness LOL.

And I want all Solivita residents to know, the Walgreen's pharmacy across from the main gate...the one that takes forever to get waited on (don't get me started)...is NOT open 24-7 as stated on their web site. I went to pick up a prescription at 6:00 AM thinking I could get in and out in a reasonable amount of time, only to discover the store was open, but the pharmacy didn't open until 8:00 AM.

Last, but not least, thanks to everyone that offered Lottie and I lanai advice, and personal tours of their lanai many months ago. Our expansion will be complete on Wednesday when the electrician finishes the electrical work. Thanks again for your help. You made a difficult project much easier with your help and advice. We are making due with what we have until our new furniture arrives, and enjoying it daily. We went with MD Construction, and they did a great job!

Oh my...I was about to post this blog and discovered my Internet connection is down, as is my cable!

It is times like these I realize how much I depend on the Internet. I have used it since the 1980s. Yes, I was online using the UNIX system in the 1980s before there was a WEB. I embraced this wonderful medium when I discovered it while working for the federal government many years ago. I have a thirst for knowledge, and the Internet satisfies me to no end. I love the Internet and all I have learned from it. There is so much one can study and learn. Foreign languages, advanced mathematics, scientific theories, religious teachings are all at your finger tips, (or thumbs if you are using your phone). In fact, here are just a few of the wonderful things I would have never known had it not been for the Internet.

Thanks to 3D printing, NASA can basically email tools to astronauts. (Getting new equipment to the Space
Station used to take months or years, but the new technology means the tools can be ready within hours.)

It is against the law to eat fried chicken with a knife and fork in Gainesville, Georgia.

German chocolate cake was invented in Texas. (German chocolate cake is named after Sam German who created the formula for a mild dark baking chocolate bar, not Germany)

Maybe this should be the year I use the web to teach me Spanish. Here in my town of Poinciana, Spanish is the main language and English is the second language for most locals. Go to a store, a doctor's office, a government building, anywhere, and life will be much easier if you speak Spanish. Anyone that lives here would say "Si, es verdad!" "Yes, it's true!"

With that being said, happy holidays to one and all...Happy Hanukah, Merry Christmas, TY4BY and of course Feliz Navidad!

This month's blog is a free association session. I am about to unleash my inner world to you. If any of you out there is a therapist, and I know at least one of you is, feel free to share your thoughts about this session.

Even if you are not a therapist, and want to comment, I would love to get your feedback. As Ellen DeGeneres once said, "Sometimes you can't see yourself clearly until you see yourself through the eyes of others."

HALLOWEEN - Halloween in our gated retirement community was insane. The main village was party central...folks dressed in costumes, live music, people eating and drinking, parade featuring golf carts and motorcycles, group dressed like zombies doing Thriller Dance, houses throughout community adorned for the season, tarrod card readings, "Trick Or Treat" Okay, here is a glass of Rum Punch. "Trick Or Treat" Okay, here is a one shot bottle of whiskey. "Trick Or Treat" Okay, here is a vodka with orange juice jello shot.

OLD FRIENDS - Had some old friends visit us. Saw one only once in forty years, and it was as if we saw each other yesterday. No awkwardness. Made Lottie take a picture of the two of us on a bench as homage to Simon And Garfunkle's song OLD FRIENDS in which they sing "Old Friends...sit on a park bench like bookends...how strange it is to be seventy..." not only are we both seventy...both of us are named Howie!

IMMATURITY - Played pickleball against a pretty good fifteen year old child. His team was beating mine. I hit a killer serve he could not return because of a fence next to him. I knew that would happen. He didn't and was pissed. He wanted the serve to be done over. Not fair he cried. I called him a baby, teased him a bit and took my point. Told Lottie about it and she was appalled. She knew I should get the point, but couldn't believe I busted the kid's chops. She looked at me and mused, "I wonder who is the REAL baby?"

KNISHES - Made some home made potato knishes. They came out great. Does anyone outside of NYC know what a knish is?

STAINLESS STEEL APPLIANCES - We have beautiful stainless steel appliances in our home. I hate them because not only are they are a bitch to keep clean, cleaning them without streaking them in the process is nearly impossible. Am I doing something wrong? What is the damn secret to cleaning them?

TILED FLOORS - While I am on a cleaning rant, our tile floors are so easy to clean thanks to our steam cleaner. What a great purchase it was. But our floors get dirty so quick I need to steam them nearly everyday. Maybe we should get carpeting!

GLASS PYREX MEASURING CUP - No matter how carefully I tilt and pour, some liquid dribbles onto the countertop or floor. What am I doing wrong? And don't get me started on opening and pouring milk out of a newly opened gallon!

THERMOSTAT - I and nearly everyone I talk to here keeps their thermostat set at approximately 78 degrees, and it is very comfortable. Back in Maryland, if I kept my thermostat at 78 degrees I would be sweating bullets. Why is that?

NEW FRIENDS - Met and made so many new friends here. And I like nearly every one of them. LOL

BALLROOM DANCING - I play the drums, I can juggle, I can do slight of hand magic and I am a decent pickleball player, so I must be fairly coordinated. So, how come I am the worse (or is it worst?) dancer in the world?

SKY - It is the little things in life that make me happy. I was walking to my golf cart the other night at nine thirty (well after what we call Solivita midnight). It was a wonderful still evening. Tranquil and a perfect 73 degrees. The moon was in a Waxing Gibbous Illumination of 74%, so not quite a full moon, but close. The sky was clear, the moon was bright, the stars were out, and the palm trees and landscaping I was walking by were beautifully lit. I thought to myself, how wonderful and lucky I am to have such a privileged life. It takes simple things like a perfect night to make me happy.

MOSQUITOS - But I am not always happy. As I sit here typing I am very itchy from mosquito bites. At least I hope they are from mosquitos, and not from some crazed Floridian bug I never heard about--they have some crazy bugs down here.

When I lived in Maryland I thought the seventeen year cicada infestation we had was bad, but here we get a yearly, actually twice yearly, infestation of Lovebugs, which I think is worse because they come twice a year as opposed to once every seventeen years.

Lovebugs, which are a type of fly, pair together. They attach their bodies to one another and fly together in tandem. And when they are in town, they are everywhere. They do not bite or sting, but they are a nuisance and a hazard.

Although the infestation is annoyingly bad in my town, in some places it is so bad it is downright dangerous. Lovebugs can swarm so thickly they can create clouds that can seriously impair your driving visibility. And then while you’re driving, Lovebugs can enter the radiator of your car, clogging your vehicle parts, and cause your car to overheat. And dead Lovebugs are just as bad. How so, you ask? Because the sun can cause their dead bodies to turn acidic, which can damage your car’s paint if you don't remove them.

Now you know more than you ever cared to learn about Lovebugs, so I now return to my itchy hands, and feet.

The other evening I was out playing bocce, and mosquitos were biting up a storm on my, and a friend's body. We seemed to be the only bodies at the mosquito's "All You Can Eat Human Buffet" the mosquitos decided munch on.

They passed on Lottie, had no interest in Jackie, and didn't want any of Eddie. But then again, who does--just a joke Eddie.
Anyway, I was one of the two people they decided to feast upon, which got me to wonder, what is it about me that I am a mosquito magnet? It has always been this way.

True story...when I was dating Lottie many years ago and trying to woo her, I once took her for a walk on the beach. It was a beautiful moon lit, warm summer night. Perfect for romance. I am not going to say what my original intentions were, but within minutes my goal was to just get off of the beach as quickly as possible.

I was slapping my thighs, rubbing my arms, and scratching my calves like a convoluted mad man because it was open season on Howie for the mosquito world.

Well, I was infuriated and stormed off the beach with Lottie trailing behind me. By the time we got off the beach my body was covered with mosquito bites--no, not bites, excuse me, I mean Mosquito Welts--some of which were the size of a quarter or larger.

We did a "bite count" and there were more than twenty five huge bites on my body. The full bottle of calamine lotion in my apartment did not have enough liquid in it to cover my now deformed and mutilated body.

There had to be something about me to explain why I would get horrendously bit as people around me got little to no mosquito bites. And last month I learned my suspicions may have been correct.

Scientists discovered there is a real reason why people such as myself get more than their fair share of bites. It is because we are probably producing carboxylic acids at much higher levels than most people, which (in simple terms) create a heady perfume that mosquitoes can't resist.

According to the scientists people such as myself can be 4 to 100 times more attractive and appealing to mosquitoes than the people we are with at the time.

I guess it turns out this humble, nondescript guy is a chick magnet--a mosquito chick that is!

TO MY OLD FRIEND HOWIE - "Everyone has a friend during each stage of life. But only lucky ones have the same friend in all stages of life." — Unknown

TO ALL OF MY NEW FRIENDS - “Each new friendship can make you a new person, because it opens up new doors inside of you.” — Kate DiCamillo

WARNING - This is a blog about me, my thoughts and experiences. I am quite candid, and say what is on my mind. Therefore, I want to warn you this particular entry may offend you, particularly if you are religious. Although the blog starts off on a light note, it turns serious for a bit, then gets light again, and ends with a bit of preaching. I think it is amusing, interesting, thought provoking and fun. Although I hope you agree, I know not everyone will :-(

Howie...

I have been told I appear to be a different person since moving to Florida. It is true, I have changed. Like a few other people I met here, I am reinventing myself. I am pushing my boundaries by doing things out of my comfort zone. After a lifetime of fearing dogs, I will now go up to them and pet them, after a lifetime of fearing needles, I will get vaccinations without a handful of Valium washed down with a glass of vodka, after a lifetime of being shy and reserved, I will now embrace and hug people, I will also talk to strangers, I will come out of my house while the sun is up, I will interact with neighbors, play games, and go places with other people. I even started taking ballroom dancing lessons with Lottie. Lots of changes--so many in fact, it is starting to make my head hurt. But I must admit, the new Howie is having a more interesting life than the old Howie.

I have changed for a number of reasons--age, retirement, new home, new life, etc., and mainly because of George Harrison. Yes, George Harrison, one of the Beatles. I was listening to Revolver, which some people consider to be the best Beatles album, and there were two verses written by George Harrison that stood out to me as they never did before. They were, "Each day just goes so fast. I turn around, it's past." and "A lifetime is so short. A new one can't be bought."

I had listen to that song, "Love You To" hundreds, if not thousands of times since the 1960s, but it wasn't until recently those words hit me as never before. Ever since then, I remind myself of those lyrics. What those lyrics mean to me, are different than the contextual meaning within the song, but none the less I appreciate the insight and intelligence George Harrison had at such a young age. George Harrison was only 23 years old when he wrote those words. I am not going to say what I was doing when I was 23, but it certainly was not writing or thinking such profound thoughts. Even to this day I am not that mature. In fact, I was recently told I am baby--a child. I wanted to stammer, "AM NOT-YOU ARE!" But the truth is, I am the most immature adult I know. Just like a child I often have no internal filter. Some people love that about me, some hate it, and of course, it makes my sweet wife, Lottie, cringe.

So, as I go through my metamorphosis I am becoming a better and more thoughtful person, yet at the same time certain negative areas of my personality are becoming much more exaggerated. I am louder, more boisterous and can be extremely more obnoxious at times. Or is it all the time? I say things far too often when I should remain quiet. And I don't always think things through. I could continue listing my faults, but that would be stepping on Lottie's toes. Why take away one of things she loves to do?

Although my big mouth, emails, texts, and phone calls have gotten me into a lot of hot water, sometimes they just have interesting results. For instance, I made an innocent cheap joke one day--an appropriate, in-the-moment double entendre comment, that should have been met with a smile, an eye roll, and then forgotten. It was a harmless throw away line from one adult to another, which could have been taken one of two ways, depending how you looked at it. Well, the recipient actually looked at it a third way--with disdain!

The person did not see the humor in it at all. He turned to me and said that it wasn't funny (he was right--it was merely quick witted and humorous). He then gave me a dirty look, turned, and left abruptly. He certainly sent me a message, and that message was received--he had no sense of humor, and I shouldn't joke around with him anymore. Fine. Done. Move on. Yet, unbeknownst to me, the man was so appalled, and taken aback by my throw-away line, he obsessively thought about it for weeks, and ultimately wrote about it on his Facebook page about a month later.

Yikes. Or should I say. Double Yikes?

In part, this is what he wrote:
"Come on God, really? Before my recent trip to Chicago, a certain man pushed my buttons. I heard a comment and it was quite vulgar. I turned and tersely said, "That's not funny". I was so angry I was ready to go toe to toe, not fight, but show my disdain for the comment. Instead, I went on and played pickleball. I said a quiet prayer for this man and was not satisfied, wow, no kidding. I played angry and prayed all through the rest of that day. I felt the Holy Spirit pressing me to pray continually for this person, I didn't want to, but I was obedient. My whole trip to Kentucky, Chicago, Minnesota and back, I prayed. I wanted to get a gentle peace about this. I felt totally disrespected and sort of let my anger get in the way. I prayed harder and harder to find peace. When we got home, I resolved that if I see this person, I will be short but civil. So I showed up to play pickleball and I saw this guy and said a quick hello as we had eye contact and I went briskly on my way. This person called out my name and came up to me. I figure ok Lord I will be polite. He said..."

First off, I do like the fact that he called me a "man". I still think of myself as a kid, and need reminding from time to time that I am a man. He could have called me worse, Lucifer, Beelzebub and Satan come to mind, so "man" was good. Secondly, what I said to him had nothing to do about the joke. It was an entirely different matter. And the remainder of his post, which I did not reprint here, was fairly accurate, but had some misinformation towards the end. Anyway, I am telling this story to illustrate how our interactions with people can have unforeseen consequences. Never in my life did I think I could cause another human being to be so consumed with something I said, that he would go on vacation for weeks, and rather than enjoy himself, spend the time brooding and praying for me. I personally think that is very sad, and amusingly ironic since I am an atheist!

I guess it is up to each of us to decide how to spend our days, and our life. If someone wants to spend it thinking about me, what does it say about them? When I think of George Harrison's lines, "Each day just goes so fast. I turn around, it's past." "A lifetime is so short. A new one can't be bought." I want embrace and enjoy each moment. I do not want to be filled with anger and inner turmoil. And I certainly do not want to think endlessly about a passing comment an acquaintance said to me. I like to spend my time thinking about family, friends, precious moments I experienced, things I am looking forward to doing, and crazy stuff like bandages.

Yep, I said, "bandages".

When I was a child roller skating on the streets of NYC during the 1950s, or playing ball, or just running around like a fool, there were times I fell down and scraped my knee, elbow, chin, etc. And when I went in the house, my mom placed bandages on the bleeding bruise. But those were not the bandages of today. No, no, no. They were strong, sturdy and thick bandages, with adhesive so powerful the bandage became one with your body when placed on your skin. Once they were attached, they would not come off. You could soak yourself in a tub of water for months and the adhesive would not lose its grip. One thing was certain, you knew the pain you will experience ripping off the bandage was going to be far worse than the pain you felt getting the original injury.

I am not sure when it changed, but today a bandage placed on your body will only stay on until it gets wet, and then it needs to be replaced. Perhaps the change came with the "ouch-less" bandage. It seems to me the only way they could invent the "ouch-less" bandage was by inventing the "stick-less" bandage. What a great corporate win-win that was--they appear to do you a favor by inventing a bandage that won't hurt when you take it off, and they get to sell more bandages because you will need to replace it every day after you shower, take a bath, or sweat too much!

1950s - one bruise, one bandage until healed

Ka-Ching!

This leads me to the statement we have all said at one time or another, “They just don’t make things like they used to.” Bandages are just one example.

Granted, I do have a Sangean, waterproof portable radio for the shower that cost only $49.00 a few years back, which is solidly built. It gets great reception, has an incredible battery life, has a built in powerful flashlight, has an ear piercing distress siren, and was by my bedside during hurricane Ian. So, in some cases you certainly can get things that meet or exceed the quality, workmanship and capabilities of similar items from years gone by. But they are far and few between. Most of the items tend to be in the field of electronics. Televisions are a major example. The picture quality and sound of today’s flat screen televisions far outshine anything from the past, but what about the small simple things we use daily? Q-Tips for instance!

When I was young, Q-Tips had a strong, thick, yet soft wad of cotton wound around a solid wooden stick. Yes, a wooden stick. Over time Johnson and Johnson replaced the wooden stick with a thick and sturdy cardboard stick. But now, even the sturdy cardboard stick is gone. A current day Q-Tip is a thin wad of cotton on a cardboard stick so fragile it bends as you use the Q-Tip.

And tissues…have you noticed that tissues have gotten smaller and smaller and thinner and thinner during the last few years? The manufacturers claim it is to keep their costs, and your price down. Yeah, right. Well, why not just keep tissues the same size and thickness, and give you less in a box?

Wait a second, they do give you fewer tissues in a box.

Wait another second, the price of tissues have gone up.

Am I missing something here?

I also like to spend my time thinking about things I don’t understand such as:

1- I don't understand why adults like to pose for pictures with make believe characters. Hey look at me. I am standing next to a person in a Mickey Mouse costume. Take our picture.

2- I don't understand why are there warnings on sleeps aids, which state, "Warning this product may make you drowsy". Isn’t that the purpose of a sleep aid?

3- I don't understand why many plastic bags have the warning “This Is Not A Toy” printed on them. When was the last time you took a child shopping for toys and they said, “I hope they have a nice selection of plastic bags?”

As you can see, I am consumed thinking about important stuff. So, it really makes me sad that I sparked such anger, inner turmoil, and possibly hatred in this God fearing man. I feel sorry that he does not appreciate the diversity of the people in his community, Solivita. Our community is far from a homogeneous community of race, religion, sexual preferences, economic status and dare I say it--personalities!

The beauty of Solivita, and what makes it truly a special place to live is its complex diversity. I am an atheist, he is a God fearing man. Cool. Not a problem for me. In fact, one of my best friends and I couldn't be more different. I am an ex New York Liberal Jew who believes in strict gun laws, but my friend is not Jewish, not from New York, does not lean the same way as me politically, and he is against strict gun laws. We come from two different worlds, have different life experiences, different beliefs, different temperaments, etc. We are total opposites in many ways, yet we are friends.

My point is, the distressed, God fearing man that did not like my joke has said more than once in the past that he will pray for me. Why he thinks he needs to pray for me only he can answer. The way I see it, if that gives him internal solace, then he should continue to pray for me. I hope he prays I win a few million dollars in the lottery and have the means to move away from him, but that would never happen--I would just buy a nicer house in Solivita because I like it here that much :-)

So, since he is praying for me, I guess it is only fair that I in turn, as an atheist who does not believe in prayer, simply hope internally he can release the demons of his past (of which there are many), and begin to embrace the wonderful lifestyle and people here in Solivita without his judgment, malice and anger (of which he has much).

And to you dear reader, try and appreciate the here and now. Embrace the crazy different people who are your friends and neighbors. Life is truly too short to be a hater. As George Harrison wrote, "Each day just goes so fast. I turn around, it's past." and "A lifetime is so short. A new one can't be bought."

So, make the best of it, while you can.

This month's blog is about about my mother.

My mother?

What's so special about my mother making her blog worthy?

To begin, she is one hundred years (and four months) old. Yep, over a hundred years old. Not many of her around. Once you hit the one hundred years mark you start logging the months as well. Let's face it, at a hundred years the clock is ticking, and every added month is a surprise!

My mom just left after visiting me and Lottie for two weeks. Friends and neighbors who met her were kind, warm, receptive, and generous. I thank all of you for that, especially Jack's Sunday Pickleball group at the Palms, who stopped their games to come over to say goodbye. She will be talking about "what nice people you and Lottie know" for a long time. And my sister, with whom she is now living, will be hearing about all of the "nice friends Lottie and Howie have" multiple times a day from this day forward--so, you made my day as well. Does the term "Sibling Rivalry" come to mind? LOL

Some people expected my mother to be a feeble, drooling, old lady being pushed in a wheelchair--a woman who had no idea what was going on around her. So it was fun to see the reaction when my mom walked up to them without assistance (occasionally Lottie held her arm outdoors to keep her steady), totally lucid, and engaged them in normal conversation. Yes, sometimes my mother veers off on an unrelated subject or detours to an old time memory rant, but most of the time (as long as she can hear you) she remains focused and stays on topic. Which is more than I can say for myself!

I was personally amazed when she talked baseball with our neighbor, Dan. She is a Mets fan, and spoke about wins, losses, and upcoming games, and she got all her stats correct. I am not a Mets fan. I am not a baseball fan, nor a fan of any sport. But during her visit I sat and watched a lot of Mets games with her. She was on top of it all--even bitching, rightly so, when the Mets didn't pull a pitcher soon enough.

SIDEBAR--I used to go to a lot of games as a kid. I appreciate a good ballgame, and seeing the great catch Brandon Nimmo made against the Dodgers last week was terrific. I took it as my personal reward for sitting with my mom for more games than I can really tolerate. Just like Babe Ruth hitting that homer for Johnny Sylvester back in the 1920s, I think Brandon unknowingly made that catch for me. I know should be reflecting on what a great bonding experience it was to watch those games with my mom, rather than make up such crazy fantasies, but I would have preferred bonding over cake, coffee and family stories illustrating how wonderful I have always been :-)

For those of you that have not met her, this is my mom. She is in our den listening to an audio book.

Her audio books were a blessing for both of us. For her--because she is legally blind and can no longer read a book. For me--because they keep her occupied, quiet, and out of my space for a while. Hey, she might be cute, sweet, adorable, and a novelty to my friends and neighbors (I thought about charging a fee to meet her), but she is also annoying. Yes, I said annoying. She is my parent, and all parents can be annoying to their children at times regardless of their respective ages.

I am sorry, no matter how cool you think you are, or what a great relationship you have with your children, as their parent you are annoying. That is a cross all of us parents must bare. We are annoying for so many reasons, and it is understandable. It is understandable because we were the ones that raised our children. We taught them the ways of the world. We were adults and they children. We knew better than them when they were toddlers, adolescents, teens and so on. We advised them, taught them, and guided them along. Without us, where would they be now? Think back, how many times in your life did you shake your head in disbelief at something they did? I am sure it was more than once. They needed us to set them straight. Unfortunately, as our children grow up, we parents generally continue to treat them like they are still wet behind the ears--even when they become adults. Parents always think they know better than their children no matter how old their children are--even if the parent is one hundred years old and the child seventy years old!

So, to be perfectly honest, I am not ashamed to admit I was not looking forward to having my mom here for two weeks. That is a long time to deal with typical mom comments, questions and suggestions. Lottie, on the other hand, had no issue with my mom coming here for a long visit. And no, Lottie is not on drugs. In fact, it was Lottie who encouraged the visit. Lottie couldn't wait for my mom to come, and would have extended the visit if it weren't for me. On second thought, maybe Lottie IS on drugs!

Am I a bad person because I wasn't excited about her visiting? Not really. Simply put, my mom and I were never really close. So, before her visit I did a lot of venting to family and friends. I complained and unloaded ad nauseum to whomsoever ear I had. Surprisingly, besides being cathartic and an excellent coping method, it also opened the door to conversations with a few friends. People told me about the loss of their parents, and other loved ones. They shared the void or emptiness they now feel. And those stories, feelings, and raw honesty of sharing opened my eyes; allowing me to see things with a fresh perspective. Thanks in particular to Mr. Carpenter and Ms. Carlton--you both were instrumental in helping me see things differently. Because of you I started to look forward to my mom's arrival. And as it turned out, her visit was quite pleasant and nice.

But I am not going to lie, it was also very exhausting. Although I was a good boy, and she was a good girl---my mom was still (pardon my French) fucking annoying!

"Howie, you look tired. Why don't you lay down and take a nap?"
"I am not tired, mom."
"You sure you're not tired. You look tired."
"I am not tired, mom."
"Lottie, doesn't Howie look tired?"
"Yes he does, Edith. Maybe he should lie down and take a nap." - Lottie says looking at me with a smile!

"Howie, is that all you're going to eat? I don't see you eating any carrots!"
"I already finished my carrots, mom."
"You sure, I didn't see you eat any?"
"Yes, I'm sure, I even had more than I gave you."
"Lottie, did Howie have any carrots?"
"I'm not sure. I didn't see him eat any." - Lottie says looking at me with a smile!

"Howie that is a lot of alcohol, I hope you don't get drunk!"
"Too late for that mom." I quietly say under my breath.

"Howie, you eat too many eggs."
"I don't think two eggs is too much."
"Lottie, why does Howie eat so many eggs?"
"I don't know Edith, you need to ask him." - Lottie says looking at me with a smile!
"Howie, why do you eat so many eggs. That's not good for you."
"I don't eat too many eggs ma, but thanks for your concern."
"I don't know why he eats so many eggs" - My mom says to no one.

"Howie why are you on the computer all of the time?"
"I told you before, I am writing a story."
"What kind of story?"
"About you."
"About me?"
"Yes, you."
"I hope it is all good."
"Of course mom."

"Howie, what did you do to the TV, it's not so clear now."
"I tested the sound. I didn't do anything to the picture. It is the same."
"It's not as clear. Lottie, I don't know what Howie did to the TV, but it's not so clear now."
"Edith, Howie didn't do anything to the TV except adjust the sound."
"I don't know, Lottie, it's not so clear now. He must have done something."
"No, Edith he didn't do anything to the picture."
"Okay. If you say so. But it's not so clear."

"Howie, you are a great chef, but that chicken was a little dry!"
"Thank you for not liking my chicken. mom."
"Lottie, didn't you think the chicken was dry?"
"Yes, Edith, it was very dry." - Lottie says looking at me with a smile!
"And chewy." - Lottie adds with another smile.
"Yes, and very tough, but good." My mom adds.
"Thank you both." I reply.
"Okay, okay." My mom says as she pushes her plate of chicken away from her.

Hmm, it is only ten in the morning as I write this, yet I am suddenly thinking about all the bottles of alcohol in our pantry!

Any-who-how, I know the time will come she won't be around anymore. But that can be said for all of us. Our time here is limited, and we should all make the best of what we have. In the past I would have reacted differently to my mom's questions and comments. But now, with the help of friends and family members, I have grown up and matured a little bit. (For those of you that know me--key phrase--"a little bit".) And my reactions to her were cool, calm and collected.

TRIVIA SIDEBAR - "Cool, Calm and Collected" is the title of a Rolling Stones song on the album "Between The Buttons".

As I get older I am trying to embrace the time I have left. And I am finding, no matter how old I get, I can learn something new almost daily from the people around me. I am trying to reinvent myself, but for every few steps I take forward, I find myself taking a couple backwards as well - and some of them are stumbles that hurt!

Lottie and I owned a company named "Live And Learn". I try to follow that credo. So, what have I learned of late? Love, humility, and that I have no internal filter. I have learned to embrace my family, and especially--to embrace my friends. If I hurt someone I apologize. If someone hurts me, I am forgiving. I have been at both ends of that spectrum lately. And it sucks regardless which side you are on. We all make mistakes, but unlike today's politicians who relentlessly push back on their errors, I believe it is healthier to take ownership of your actions, and try to fix things, not make them worse. As the old saying goes, if we didn't make mistakes, pencils wouldn't need erasers. So, enjoy every precious moment you have with those around you, and make amends when needed. Not all of us will be living to one hundred years (and four months old).

I, just like a friend of mine, have a saved voice mail message from my mom, (just to be clear, he has a saved message from his mom, not mine). I expect I will listen to that message every so often, just as he listens to his mom's message. This is the message I saved (word for word)...keep in mind, my mom left this for me when she was younger. She was only ninety-eight years old at the time LOL:

YOU HAVE ONE SAVED MESSAGE
"Howie, do you ever answer the phone?
This is your mom.
I wanted to tell you something.
But this is the second time I am calling you.
I don't know--what do you have a phone for, if you don't answer?
Have a good night.
Bye bye."

Talk about getting schooled!

Edith Hirsch 100 Years Old (and 4 months) with Lottie Hirsch Age Undisclosed (I'm No Fool)