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| My house is a very, very, very weird house |
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| Not enough sleep. |
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1. About Last night:
I got about an hour and a quarter through the vice-presidential debate last night; I could go no further than that. Tim Kaine impressed me a helluva lot more than Mike Pence - which is damnation by ever-so-faint praise due to the fact that, in a more ordinary time, Kaine wouldn't impress me much at all. Pence, the governor of Indiana, is such an extremist chucklehead, I sincerely believe he could make George W. Bush look like Albert Einstein. There is a very nice woman from Indianapolis who communicates with me on Facebook. Her name is Phyllis Crill. Early this morning she offered these choice nuggets of opinion:
"Since I live in Indiana and know what a moron Pence is, I didn't even attempt it. I also have a blood pressure problem. I don't know how you could have possibly watched an hour and a quarter without your head exploding from Pence's stupidity. We here in Indiana monitor our blood pressure regularly because we never know when another of Pence's nutso schemes may be reported via the MSM and we have to reach for the blood pressure meds."
Indeed.
2. The Continuing Implosion:Regarding the comical train-wreck that is also known as the Donald Trump Campaign, it's impossible to believe at this stage that there might not be a method to his madness. As stated here before, I have this nagging suspicion that the Donald is, in fact, purposely engaged in a covert attempt to permanently end the Republican Party. Trump played his roll in the GOP primaries to utter perfection. He studied the process as thoroughly as any candidate in history. He understood that the only way a candidate can possibly receive the nomination from that disgusting party is by stomping about the country saying a bunch of jaw-droppingly mean and stupid things - and that's exactly what he did. What makes the Trump campaign unusual, though, is that normally, once the candidate has won the Republican nomination, he always slithers back to the center during the general election. Trump has made no such effort; in fact, judging by the way he is handling himself, one could be forgiven for thinking that the silly bastard is running for a Mississippi congressional seat! 2016 sure is an amusing year.
3. President Clinton II:
This has got to be the most obvious no-brainer in American political history: Hillary Clinton will be sworn in as the forty-fifth president on January 20 of next year - which is only a little over three months away. Maybe she will turn out to be a true progressive. Maybe not. Her choice of Tim Kaine was hardly a reassurance to those of us who lean leftwards. Nothing personal against the guy: He's a smart man and he seems to be a good one - but he's hardly the fightin' liberal that we were hoping for. At this time next year I could be eating these words. We'll see. In the meantime I remain depressingly ambivalent.
4. My Take on Tattoos:
This is where I'll probably consign myself to hopeless and eternal old-fuddy-duddyism. So be it. I've wanted to post this message for a long time but have always chickened out at the last moment. Fortunately I'm drunk enough at the moment to be not so inhibited - inebriated, yes - but not inhibited. Consider this a little public service message for each of my young friends who are contemplating adding a tattoo to his or her body. Tattoos can be beautiful and I've seen a few in my day that I greatly admired. The problem is that they're beautiful only to a point. This message is genuinely ironic on my part given the fact that the office in my house that I work in looks out directly across the road onto a thriving tattoo parlor.
Shown above are two different images of the same tattoo, fifteen years apart. Listen, kids, before you enter the tattoo parlor, don't forget that it’s going to be a part of you for the rest of your lives.
Have you ever had a good look at a tattoo that is twenty-five years old - or older? They’re unrecognizable from what they originally were. After thirty years, they’re usually nothing more than a dark green blotch.
3. President Clinton II:
This has got to be the most obvious no-brainer in American political history: Hillary Clinton will be sworn in as the forty-fifth president on January 20 of next year - which is only a little over three months away. Maybe she will turn out to be a true progressive. Maybe not. Her choice of Tim Kaine was hardly a reassurance to those of us who lean leftwards. Nothing personal against the guy: He's a smart man and he seems to be a good one - but he's hardly the fightin' liberal that we were hoping for. At this time next year I could be eating these words. We'll see. In the meantime I remain depressingly ambivalent.
4. My Take on Tattoos:
This is where I'll probably consign myself to hopeless and eternal old-fuddy-duddyism. So be it. I've wanted to post this message for a long time but have always chickened out at the last moment. Fortunately I'm drunk enough at the moment to be not so inhibited - inebriated, yes - but not inhibited. Consider this a little public service message for each of my young friends who are contemplating adding a tattoo to his or her body. Tattoos can be beautiful and I've seen a few in my day that I greatly admired. The problem is that they're beautiful only to a point. This message is genuinely ironic on my part given the fact that the office in my house that I work in looks out directly across the road onto a thriving tattoo parlor.Shown above are two different images of the same tattoo, fifteen years apart. Listen, kids, before you enter the tattoo parlor, don't forget that it’s going to be a part of you for the rest of your lives.
Have you ever had a good look at a tattoo that is twenty-five years old - or older? They’re unrecognizable from what they originally were. After thirty years, they’re usually nothing more than a dark green blotch.
One night in 1975, my father held a party in Toronto for some of his business associates that he wanted me to attend (I was sixteen at the time). He insisted that I wear one of those awful, mid-seventies, polyester leisure suits that were the fashion rage of the day. I wore it on that one occasion - and never wore it again. Had someone told me then and there that, once I put the thing on, I would be forced to wear it until the day I died, I would not have put it on - trust me.
At one time, I wore my hair very long. Today I keep it relatively short. Forty years ago, I loved Elton John. Today his music sounds almost sophomoric to me. In 1976 I liked to wash down my meals with Orange Crush. In 2016 I can't stomach the stuff. Why? Because I am older and my tastes have changed. What might seem really cool to you at eighteen could very well seem repulsive to you at fifty-eight. This is an essential fact of human nature.
Flash forward thirty years into the future, when you are still a relatively young person. Every morning, as you dress, you’ll look into the mirror and say out loud: “What the hell was I thinking?”
Tattoos are a fad. Fads come and go. When this fad finally goes the way of the polyester lesuire suit, your tattoo will remain. Think about that.
FUN FACT: Laser surgery to remove a medium-sized tattoo costs nearly fifty-thousand dollars; and bear in mind that it only fades them somewhat - it doesn't totally remove them. That procedure requires a skin graft - which costs tens-of-thousands of dollars more.
Roughly ninety-five percent of the women who get a tattoo regret it in less than five years. There is a much cheaper method of hiding a tattoo: a cream that only temporarily camouflages it. It’s quite popular now for the simple reason that so many people are embarrassed by the tattoos they got as young adults. The problem with this method is that it doesn’t look natural; in fact it looks perfectly hideous.
I implore you: Don't mar your unique beauty with a goddamned tattoo. You WILL regret it; I guarantee it. Fortunately, forty years after the fact, that polyester leisure suit is barely a vague memory for me. It will be a different case forty years from now with regard to your tattoo.
If there is a young person in your life who is considering going down this one-way road, please share this little tirade of mine with them.
5. Au Revoir, Mr. President!
It's amazing how with the passing of the years, time goes by more quickly. it doesn't seem possible that nearly eight years has come and gone since Mr. Obama went to Washington. I'm not going to lie to you: this president has been a major disappointment in a lot of areas. But, given all he has had to contend with - particularly the complete idiocy of the Republican opposition - he and his family have held themselves up admirably, with great dignity and grace. Will he be remembered as a "great" president? I don't know the answer to that question; but it's a cinch he'll at least be remembered as "near great". That's not a bad showing either. History will have a lot to say about "The Obama Years". I can't wait to read some of it.
I like Barack Obama. I like him a lot...
BUT I'M JUST CRAZY 'BOUT MICHELLE!
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Autumn is my favorite time of the year. Happy October everyone!
Tom Degan
Goshen, NY
AFTERTHOUGHT:
The photo at the top of this piece is a night shot I took some months back of the house I live in. The window on the second floor to the left is where I'm typing this tantrum you're reading. The house is nice but the area I live in is a bit weird. In addition to the tattoo parlor there is an adult book/video store, and a bar called "Cravings" that is so decrepit, no one has been able to keep it open for more that a few months at a time. It also sits right on top of an extremely busy, two-lane highway. Here's how bad the area is: I moved into the neighborhood and property values actually went up for a change!
SUGGESTED LISTENING:
The House I Live In
by Frank Sinatra
This 1965 recording by the Frankster is what it's all about.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBlkiJa4qMI
The children in the playground
The faces that I see
All races and religions
That's America to me....
I always loved this one.
At one time, I wore my hair very long. Today I keep it relatively short. Forty years ago, I loved Elton John. Today his music sounds almost sophomoric to me. In 1976 I liked to wash down my meals with Orange Crush. In 2016 I can't stomach the stuff. Why? Because I am older and my tastes have changed. What might seem really cool to you at eighteen could very well seem repulsive to you at fifty-eight. This is an essential fact of human nature.
Flash forward thirty years into the future, when you are still a relatively young person. Every morning, as you dress, you’ll look into the mirror and say out loud: “What the hell was I thinking?”
Tattoos are a fad. Fads come and go. When this fad finally goes the way of the polyester lesuire suit, your tattoo will remain. Think about that.
FUN FACT: Laser surgery to remove a medium-sized tattoo costs nearly fifty-thousand dollars; and bear in mind that it only fades them somewhat - it doesn't totally remove them. That procedure requires a skin graft - which costs tens-of-thousands of dollars more.
Roughly ninety-five percent of the women who get a tattoo regret it in less than five years. There is a much cheaper method of hiding a tattoo: a cream that only temporarily camouflages it. It’s quite popular now for the simple reason that so many people are embarrassed by the tattoos they got as young adults. The problem with this method is that it doesn’t look natural; in fact it looks perfectly hideous.
I implore you: Don't mar your unique beauty with a goddamned tattoo. You WILL regret it; I guarantee it. Fortunately, forty years after the fact, that polyester leisure suit is barely a vague memory for me. It will be a different case forty years from now with regard to your tattoo.
If there is a young person in your life who is considering going down this one-way road, please share this little tirade of mine with them.
5. Au Revoir, Mr. President!
I like Barack Obama. I like him a lot...
BUT I'M JUST CRAZY 'BOUT MICHELLE!
********************
Autumn is my favorite time of the year. Happy October everyone!
Tom Degan
Goshen, NY
AFTERTHOUGHT: The photo at the top of this piece is a night shot I took some months back of the house I live in. The window on the second floor to the left is where I'm typing this tantrum you're reading. The house is nice but the area I live in is a bit weird. In addition to the tattoo parlor there is an adult book/video store, and a bar called "Cravings" that is so decrepit, no one has been able to keep it open for more that a few months at a time. It also sits right on top of an extremely busy, two-lane highway. Here's how bad the area is: I moved into the neighborhood and property values actually went up for a change!
SUGGESTED LISTENING:
The House I Live Inby Frank Sinatra
This 1965 recording by the Frankster is what it's all about.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CBlkiJa4qMI
The children in the playground
The faces that I see
All races and religions
That's America to me....
I always loved this one.
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