What Do Women Want?

alan-alda-then the-duke-and-trump-1-19-2016 womens-march

There’s an old joke about God speaking to the Rabbi Jacob. “Jacob,” God says. “You are the most religious man on Earth. Your faith in Me is stronger than anyone else’s faith in Me. As a reward, I will grant you one wish – Whatever you want. So, tell Me, what would you like?”

Jacob answered without hesitation. “I’ve always wanted to go to Hawaii, but I am afraid to fly or sail in a big ship. So, I would like for You to build a highway from California to Hawaii so I can drive there.”

God gave this some thought and said, “The ocean is miles deep in some spots and there are huge waves and extreme tides. Building a highway across the ocean would be next to impossible. Is there maybe something else I could offer you instead?”

“Well,” said Jacob, “I don’t understand women. Could You explain women to me?”

God thought a brief moment and replied, “Do you want that highway to be 2 or 4 lanes?”


On the day after Donald Trump was inaugurated as the forty-fifth President of the United States, a gazillion women of all colors took to the streets to protest for women’s rights.  Back on Election Day, though, an estimated 53% of white women actually voted for Trump and voted against the first woman nominated for the Presidency by a major party.  By contrast, when the first black man ran for President he got 90% of the black vote.  According to some Republicans, Obama might even have gotten 125% of the black votes in places like Chicago.  White women derailed the election of the first woman President, a person who ran on a platform of women’s rights.  Now they were out in force protesting against the misogynist they helped to elect.

I can understand why the God in the joke thought it was easier to build a highway to Hawaii than to explain women. This election just didn’t make any sense to me.

Maybe God couldn’t explain women, but there was another almighty source of information available to me. I Googled, “What do women want?” It didn’t give me a definitive answer, but it told me what women want in a relationship. I figured that was a good place to start. According to the Elite Daily website, women want honesty, understanding, caring, strength, compassion, security, and blind loyalty. None of that sounded like Donald Trump to me, so I went to the next website on the Google list.

The Your Tango website said that women wanted respect, sex, romance, time, dinner, communication, consistency, engagement, humor, humility, and a challenge. That was a little more like it. The Donald had a few of those qualities, especially the challenging part, but he certainly did not have all of those qualities. So, I changed my inquiry question to “What do women want in a President?” I found that back during the campaign of 2012, Matthew Dowd at ABC News took a stab at answering that question. He said that women wanted a combination of Alan Alda and John Wayne. That combo certainly didn’t look like Donald Trump to me, but when I Googled “John Wayne and Donald Trump,” lo and behold, that wily rascal Donald Trump had a campaign stop and photo op at the John Wayne Memorial last January. Plus, Trump’s hair looks a little like Hawkeye’s hairstyle, and, like Alan Alda, Trump can be funny at times. I don’t think I’ve ever heard Hillary crack a joke.

So, I think Matthew Dowd may have guessed correctly. I still don’t understand women, but now I think I know what women want in a President, a combination of Alan Alda and John Wayne. That does not bode well for the election of a female Presidential candidate in the future, but the point is probably mute, because I seriously doubt if any political party will even nominate another woman for President next time. Old white men have won the Presidency 44 out of 45 times, so that is what the major political parties usually nominate. The Democrat’s attempt to catch lighting in a bottle with another Presidential first failed. As a result, prominent women Senators like Elizabeth Warren and Kirsten Gillibrand will probably not be given the consideration they deserve when the next Presidential election comes along. It won’t even help a woman candidate if she looks like John Wayne or Alan Alda, because even though that might help her get the women’s vote, it would certainly cost her the men’s votes.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,



Fat Is Where I’m At


All things are relative. I didn’t originate that phrase. Some German guy did. I just proved it.

My latest doctor’s appointment began with one of the assistants leading me to the scale. I stepped on and waited for the digital reading to appear. A few seconds later “209.0” flashed on the screen and I jumped for joy. The assistant wondered at my behavior and I explained that per the height/weight charts I had finally gotten myself out of the obese category. 210 was the dividing line.

When I arrived in Lancaster three and a half years ago, I weighed 247 pounds. So, I wasn’t just clinically obese then, I was 37 pounds into the category. By losing 38 pounds, I was now just plain fat. Halleluiah.

Most people wouldn’t be happy to be told they were overweight, but to someone who’s been obese for as long as he can remember, being just plain overweight was a cause for celebration. All things are relative.

Under normal circumstances a meal of bread and water would be considered a punishment, but to a man dying of thirst in a desert, a glass of water would be more precious than Dom Perignon Champagne. Someone who was starving would delight in a crust of bread. All things are relative.

Right now it’s pouring rain outside and I love it, because the usual precipitation around here in January is snow and I hate that. I’m sure there are others, like skiers, snowboarders, and my friend Patrice who would prefer snow. Once again, it’s all relative.

I just finished reading Where Nobody Knows Your Name, a John Feinstein book about life in baseball’s minor leagues. Most of the players were not too happy about being stuck in the minors, but there were a few who were happy that they were getting paid to play a game they loved. Even attitude is subject to relativity.

My target goal is to weigh 186 pounds. So, someday I may be disappointed to step on a scale and have it flash “187.” Not today, though. Today I am happy to be overweight. You might say that I’m now pleasantly plump. Someday I might be at Clipper Magazine Stadium for a Barnstormer’s ballgame and be disappointed by rain, but today, as it washes away all traces of the last snow dusting, I am happy to watch the rain fall.

To some, playing in the minor leagues might be a big disappointment. To me, at 68 years old with an arthritic hip, playing a sandlot game would be a dream come true. Attitude and relativity.

It’s warm today, but I know that most of the winter will be a lot colder and I will be cooped up in my apartment, but when I visit the local library I see a group of people who are there because they just want to stay warm and charge their cellphones and they don’t have their own apartments. They spend their nights in the Water Street shelter.

I am happy even when cooped up in my apartment, though. The cold winter days with the windows closed give me a chance to play my clarinet and saxophone. I’m not very good. Actually, I’m terrible. I bought the instruments when I moved here, despite the fact that I hadn’t played either instrument in 50 years. There are 59 notes that can be played on the clarinet, but, so far, I only remember how to play about half of them, and for some reason, I’m having a lot of trouble playing the note b flat. I haven’t yet developed the mouth control to make it come out cleanly. Every time I play b flat, it sounds more like an animal is screaming in pain, but I’m still having a ball playing simple songs poorly. I don’t think my neighbors are having near as much fun as I am, though. All things are relative.


Peace & Love, and all of the above,