Category: Uncategorized

For Halloween this year I went as Jerry Garcia, and I didn’t need a wig. It had been a year since my last haircut. But now, as they say on Game of Thrones, “Winter is coming.” It was time for a haircut.

I didn’t think it was fair to the students at the Barber School where I used to go to have to face the daunting challenge of cutting off all that hair, so I went upscale a smidgin. The employees at the Walmart barber shop questioned my timing. Since I made it through the dog days of Summer with long hair, shouldn’t I keep it long for the winter to keep me warm? I told them that I had read about a new invention called a hat.

Hats and long hair conflict. Whenever I pull off my ski cap, my hair looks like Doc Brown’s in Back to the Future. It was time to simplify. In short, it was time to get it cut short again.

I liked having long hair. It was the first time in my life I ever let it grow past my collar, and it was pretty cool, but there were some disadvantages. On windy days I felt like I was walking through a cave of spider webs, and when I ate, I often found myself chewing on Peanut butter, Jelly, and Hair Sandwiches. I was constantly picking hairs off my shirt only to find that they were still attached to my head. The cost of shampoo and conditioner was also escalating the longer the hair grew. Plus, the stylist who cut my hair last time said I needed “Product.” In the old days a little dab of Brylcreme would do it, but nowadays you need “Product.” I’m not sure what ingredients are in this product, but everyone told me I needed it.

The salon product was extremely expensive, so I experimented. I tried Coconut Oil. I tried Macadamia Nut Oil. I tried Mane and Tail Detangler. None of them really worked well, and they all attracted flies, bees, and mosquitos.

When I got home from the salon I looked in the mirror and loved my new haircut, except for one thing. The hair looked good, but now my beard looked scraggly, without the mop of hair on my head to balance the picture.

Oh well, I guess I’ll have to find some “product” for my beard now.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

I met Mark about 20 years ago when we were both working for Sports Eye (a.k.a. “The Bible of Harness Racing”). Every employee played the horses. We all had that one thing in common. Mark and I also shared a fondness for smoking weed. When his mother kicked her tenant out of the upstairs apartment in New Hyde Park, Mark offered the apartment to me at a low rent, and I moved in. At least once a week, we would get together, get high, and go to the local OTB. Afterwards, we’d grab a bite to eat, while we explained why the horses we picked lost. We went through this ritual for 14 years. Then, he bought a house in Texas, and I moved to Lancaster. I found out from his Mother that he just had a massive heart attack and died.

During the prime years of Mark’s life, his friends called him “Captain.” He outlived most of those friends, but I would still call him Captain, just to remind him of the good old days, even though I didn’t even know him back in his good old days. We had talked so much over the years that I practically knew his life story. He loved boats, and even lived on a houseboat in New York for several years. I think that he bought another boat a few weeks ago and was fixing her up. That might have been what did him in. I’m sure that Preparing for the hurricane that recently passed through his home in Corpus Christi didn’t help, either.

Now, the Captain will return to the sea. He’s a member of the Neptune Society. His body will be cremated and his ashes will be spread on the ocean.

Fair winds and following seas, Captain.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

When I was a teenager, my family bought a summer bungalow in Yaphank, Long Island. The place where we lived was part of the German-American Settlement League, a private club exclusively for people of German extraction. They had 50 bungalows, a ballfield, a clubhouse, and a private beach on the Carmen’s River. Our house was right on the river. As nice as that sounds, there were still problems for me living there as a teenager. For one, I was a big fan of screaming guitars and Rock N Roll, while the neighbors all preferred accordions and polkas. When there was a dance at the clubhouse, it seemed that all they played were polkas and waltzes. There was no twisting, nor frugging, nor mashing of potatoes – and those were the only dances I knew at the time.

There was a bigger problem than the music selection at the dances, though. Most of the people were ancient, and there weren’t any girls my age there. I had a few male friends – Fritz, Freddie, Edgar, and Charlie, but there weren’t any Brunhildas, Annegrets, or Margaretes around. The only girls were Linda Zeltman and Carol Ann Schultz and they were only 12 years old. Lillian Lyons was the only eligible female in the entire neighborhood, but she was a college girl, so she was way out of my league. There were no potential girlfriends in the entire community, and that can be a real bummer for a teenager.

There were a few real Nazis among the resident there, but they weren’t really a problem. They came in two varieties – old Nazis or very old Nazis. They were the ones who had founded the place back in the 30’s. There weren’t very many of them left alive by the time our family moved in. The club’s rules stated that you had to be at least part German to be a member, but some of the newer families who lived there, like us, had only a few drops of German blood. My Dad had none. He was Irish and Swedish, but my parents got in because my Mom had a little German blood in her lineage. Years later, after he retired from the Telephone Company, my Dad, who had pounded the Nazis commanding a U.S. tank during World War II, actually became the President of the German-American Settlement League. The times they certainly were a changing.

The newer families moving in were more interested in a cheap summer getaway than preserving the proud tradition of Oom Pah bands. You had to be a member to buy a bungalow there, and you had to be part German to be a member, so the limited market kept bungalow prices way down. When I got married, Ginny and I bought our first house there, simply because the price was cheap, $12,000. That was less than half of what equivalent homes were going for just outside the community.

The German-American Settlement League came a long way from their Nazi beginnings, and, by the time my family moved there, it had become more of a retirement village. As the old guard died off, however, a few of us newcomers wondered aloud if, when it was time to sell our homes, the by-laws of the community might change and allow us to list the house on an open market, where it might sell for 2 or 3 times more than we would get selling it to a club member only.

Well, I read recently that it finally happened. Philip Kneer and his wife, Patricia Flynn-Kneer sued the G.A.S.L. for the right to list their home on the open market.

To win their case, all they had to do to was go to the newspapers with pictures of the community back in the 1930’s.

An undated photo at Camp Siegfried in Yaphank shows the swastika and the salute, familiar Nazi symbols, on display. In a federal lawsuit on Monday, Oct. 19, 2015, a Yaphank couple said that discriminatory covenant restrictions of the German-American Settlement League, which owns the former camp site, have prevented them from selling their home. Photo Credit: UPI

Once their lawyers played the Ole Nazi card, it was impossible to get public opinion behind keeping the by-laws of the all-German community intact. Besides, like I said, many of the club’s members also hoped to be able to sell their homes on the open market when the time came, so the G.A.S.L. settled the lawsuit quickly.

Noe, with the German American Settlement League opening their doors to people of all kinds, who will still be around on Long Island to dance the polkas and remind the world of Germany’s many proud traditions, like Oktoberfest, lederhosen, Bratwurst, and beer? The answer, I recently found out, is Nephew X. He’s a teacher on Long Island, and he actually wore this outfit to school one day. I think it was National Pretzel Day, or something like that.  At least I hope it was.

Peace and Love, and all of the above,

Earl

It was Star Wars night at Clipper Magazine Stadium and the first 1,000 attendees got free bobblehead dolls of the Barnstormers Mascot, Cylo, dressed in Darth Vader attire. I got there an hour before game time, but that wasn’t early enough to be among the first 1,000. Almost 7,000 people showed up for the game.  So the night started with a little disappointment for me. Then the Lancaster starter gave up 5 runs in the first inning and the disappointment mounted.

One of the mottos of the Barnstormers, however, is “Keep Calm and Storm on.” They did just that. The Barnstormers fought back and scored one run in their half of the first inning. They held the Sugarland Skeeters scoreless in top of the second, and scored 2 more runs in the bottom of the inning. So, with the score now 5-3, hope was returning. The Skeeters were blanked in the third and the Stormers stormed on to tie the game in the bottom of the third.  The Force is strong in this team.

In between innings the Star Wars characters staged mock light saber duels on the field, and fireworks were also planned for after the game, so the thousands of children in attendance were kept entertained. While they were enjoying themselves with hot dogs and cotton candy, I was enjoying the seesaw game. The Skeeters retook the lead and the Stormers fought back. Then the pesky Skeeters would score again and the Barnstormers would respond with enough runs to keep the game close. Then the Stormers actually got their big break, when one of their guys struck out. The Skeeter catcher wasn’t able to catch the outside pitch and it went all the way to the backstop. The batter darted for first and got there well before the throw. Safe at first. The next batter took advantage of the opening and hit a two-run homer.

Both teams kept piling up runs but the Skeeters never relinquished the lead. Then in the 7^th innings, another Stormer struck out on a pitch way outside that the Skeeter catcher again couldn’t reach, and he, too, reached first safely. I crossed my fingers hoping for lightning to strike twice. A homerun would tie the game. The next batter only singled, though.

The Skeeters still had an 11 to 9 lead, but the Stormers now had the tying runs on base and with two out centerfielder Beau Amaral stepped to the plate. He hit a looping fly ball down the left field line that the leftfielder raced after and dove for at the last second, but he came up empty, and the ball rolled all the way to the wall. The two men on base scored easily and as Beau chugged into third the coach frantically waved him home. The relay throw got to the plate before Beau, but not soon enough for the catcher to secure it, and a sliding Beau scored what eventually was the winning run as the ball bounced away from the hapless catcher.

I’ve seen inside-the-park homeruns in some of the huge Major-League parks, but I never before saw one in a small Minor-League park. The last time a Barnstormer hit an inside-the-park homerun, was 6 years ago, playing against the Ducks in Commack, Long Island.  It was a sight to behold, and even more exciting than the post-game fireworks. The force was definitely with the Lancaster Barnstormers that night, and they increased their league lead. It looks like they’re headed to another Championship season. Storm on, Stormers.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

“I wish my life was a non-stop Hollywood movie show, a fantasy world of celluloid heroes and villains.”

-The Kinks (Celluloid Heroes)

Thanks to the extensive DVD collection at the library, I’m catching up on the TV shows I missed. Currently I’m binge watching Game of Thrones. I just finished seasons one and two and I’ve learned quite a few things. One is that this show really is as good as people said it was. Two is that they’re not afraid to kill off the main characters, unlike old TV shows like Star Trek, where you knew that many of the crew might be killed, but Captain Kirk, Mr. Spock, and “Bones” McCoy would still be alive at the end of each episode. And three, everybody hates King Joffrey.

It came as no surprise to me that Jack Gleeson, who portrays the sadistic young king, won the People’s Choice Award for Best TV Villain. We love our movie heroes, but the actors we love to hate are the ones who win the acting awards. This is something I learned back in 1971 when I first saw the movie Bonnie and Clyde. Even though they were bank robbers, Bonnie and Clyde were the charismatic stars of the movie. We hated to see them gunned down at the end of the picture. Clyde’s sister-in-law, played by Estelle Parsons, was the one we hated. She whined constantly, and everybody in the movie theatre would have gladly watched her get riddled with bullets instead. She won the Academy Award for Best Supporting Actress.

Remember Kathy Bates in Misery? She made Nurse Ratched look like Florence Nightingale. Everyone who saw Misery remembers the scene where Kathy smashed James Caan’s ankles with a sledge hammer. She won the Academy Award for Best Actress. Louise Fletcher, by the way, also won a Best Actress for her portrayal of the previously mentioned Nurse Ratched in One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.

Charlize Theron won the Academy Award for her portrayal of serial killer Aileen Wournos in Monster. I’d have to look it up, but I’d guess that the make-up artist who turned the beautiful South African actress into a Monster must have won an award, too. Speaking of monsters, Frederic March won the Academy Award back in 1931 for his dual role of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Presidential monsters also get their recognition. Frank Langella, who can do a trick with his eyes that scares the bejesus out of me, was nominated for Best Actor for portraying Richard Nixon. Daniel Day-Lewis won the Academy Award for his portrayal of Abraham Lincoln in Lincoln. I know that Lincoln is up there on Mount Rushmore as, supposedly, one of our greatest Presidents, but I, personally, consider him a monster. Yes, he abolished slavery, but at the cost of hundreds of thousands of American lives. Plus, history books fail to tell the story of how more than a million slaves died from hunger, disease, and neglect soon after they were freed. Don’t take my word for it. Read Sick from Freedom by the historian Jim Downs.

Fictional Presidents can also be good monsters. Donald Sutherland was superb as President Snow, the tormenter of Katniss Everdeen in The Hunger Games.

Rooney Mara was nominated for the Academy Award for her performance as Lisbeth Salander in The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Of course, she wasn’t a monster. She just appeared to be one. Read the books. She’s one of my favorite female characters in literature. She even tops Katniss Everdeen, who was portrayed in the Hunger Games by another Academy Award winner Jennifer Lawrence. Rooney Mara, as her name suggests, is the paternal granddaughter of Wellington Mara and the maternal great-granddaughter of Art Rooney, Sr. Good thing she wasn’t a boy or I’m sure her family would have pushed her into football.

Michael Keaton can play the good guy or the bad guy and be terrific. He’s lovable in Mr. Mom and downright terrifying in Pacific Heights. Marlon Brando won the Academy Award for The Godfather. Sure, he was very likable, but, after all, he did play the head of a Mafia family. Michael Douglas won for personifying greed in Wall Street. Anthony Hopkins won for his portrayal of serial killer Hannibal Lector in The Silence of the Lambs.

This list of bad boys and girls who thrilled us on screen goes on and on. The mountains are more impressive because of the valleys, and heroes are more impressive because of the villains they faced. So, hail King Joffrey for making Game of Thrones more interesting, but I sure can’t wait until I get to the episode where they kill you off.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

“Noah, how long can you tread water?”

-God

Nothing crazy has been happening in my life lately. The library had a big clearance sale on books, CDs, and DVD’s, and I walked away with enough material to keep me busy for months. So, I’ve been either listening to CDs, watching movies, or sitting on my back porch reading. Oh, I’ve also been practicing my clarinet for an hour a day. You’re lucky I can’t post sound on this website, or you would have to suffer though my squeaky rendition of This Is the Moment from the musical Jekyll and Hyde. To my great surprise, though, the neighbors have actually been very supportive and encourage me by telling me that they think I’m improving with practice. Of course, they’re not really sure, because they don’t recognize any of the old songs I’m playing. So, they don’t know what it’s supposed to sound like, but at least I’m not playing as many squeaky notes as before. They consider that an improvement.

Fortunately, during this calm period in my life, I still have a crazy friend to provide fodder for my stories. My friend Debbie and her mother went to visit the Creation Museum in Kentucky, where “the Bible vividly comes to life.” Evidently, this is the Mennonite equivalent to a trip to Disney World.

Just enter the Creation Museum and you’re transported back to the very beginning – 6,000 years ago, when dinosaurs and people roamed the earth together, and where the Big Bang Theory is Fake News. Don’t laugh. Recent surveys show that 41% of Americans believe that dinosaurs and people coexisted. (If you find that hard to believe, remember that 46% of American voters also thought that Donald Trump was a good choice for President.) Exhibits at the Creation Museum even show you how dinosaur fossils were created by the great flood that happened during Noah’s day. They even have a real live archaeologist to show you how it happened.

You can take a stroll through the Garden of Eden and watch how God created woman from Adam’s rib. I think that the refreshment stand there probably offers everything but apples. Then, after touring the hundreds of biblical dioramas, hop aboard the centerpiece of the Park, the life-sized version of Noah’s Ark (300 cubits long). Since a cubit is equal to the length of an average forearm, that means it’s about the size of 1 and a half football fields, plenty of room for 2 of every kind of animal, except, of course, for the poor dinosaurs and unicorns, who somehow missed the boat.

Debbie complained that while they were visiting Noah’s Ark it rained the whole time. Does anyone else find that funny?

Faith can move mountains, and it can also sell a lot of souvenirs.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

When I moved to Lancaster I planned to get more exercise and so I bought an Itek watch, which is similar to the more-costly Fitbit watch. It keeps track of how many steps I take, how many miles I walk, how many calories I burn, and how many minutes of exercising I get a day. The first thing I had to do with the watch was program in my daily goal.

Back in the late 1980’s I worked for Publishers’ Phototype International (PPI) in East Rutherford, NJ. That was back in the days before Desktop Publishing, and we prepared the camera-ready pages of various magazines for the printer. I started on the day shift, but soon found myself on the evening shift. I had stopped driving by then and quickly found out that there was a problem with working 4-12. The bus to Jersey City, where I lived, stopped running around 10 p.m. So, I had to walk home at night. It was seven miles, and that first trip home seemed to take forever. I’ve always liked the motto of the Christopher Society, “It’s better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.” So, I looked for ways to make my walk more enjoyable. I brought a Walkman with me and listened to my favorite songs as I walked. Then, after a while, I started carrying two Walkmen. I listened to my favorite songs on one, and recorded my voice on the other as I sang along.

When I listened to myself singing the lead on one Walkman, I’d record background vocals on the other. Then I’d switch tapes and listen to the background while I sang lead into the other. I enjoyed my little walking recording studio.  The seven-mile walk zipped by and actually became the highlight of my day. After a while, I left that job at PPI to teach Word Processing in the Adult Education Program at Ferris High School. I missed my co-workers and friends at PPI, but I missed that nightly walk even more. Eventually, over the decades, I forgot the names of my co-workers at PPI, but I always remembered that walk fondly.

So, I had that in mind four years ago when I set my goals on my new Itek watch. I decided to start my new exercise program with half that distance, and typed in my goal at 3 and a half miles per day. I never reached my daily goal until one day when I was on a visit to New York and walked all over the town. Then last year I learned that there was Women’s Flat Track Roller Derby about 3 and a half miles from my apartment in Lancaster. I found a bus that would take me there, but this bus didn’t run late, so I would have to walk home. Like Yogi said, “It was Déjà vu all over again.”

It rained the first time I went to the Roller Derby, so I wound up taking a taxi home. Eventually, though, I went there on a beautiful night for walking, and I brought along my Walkman and a flashlight. Knowing that I’m not in the same shape I was in back in the 80’s, I planned to split the trip into two parts by finding a bar around the midway point and taking a break there. The only problem was that I didn’t spot a bar until I was almost home. I was dragging ass by the time I got home, but I made it, and checking my watch I saw that for only the second time since I had the watch, I had actually managed to reach the daily physical goal I had set.

Last Saturday, after watching the undefeated Dutchland All-Stars defeat the previously undefeated New Jersey All-Stars, I decided to try it again, but this time without the Walkman as I concentrated more on finding a bar someplace along the way. I was starting to get tired when I saw a neon mountain in a window up ahead by the Days Inn. I knew that the neon mountain had to mean Coors beer, and I knew that meant there must be a bar inside the motel. There was and I went in. There was only one customer there. I looked at my watch and found that for only the third time in four years I had reached my walking goal for the day. I could have called a cab then, but I figured that all I needed was to “hydrate” myself and I would be ready to continue.

After a few pints, I was rested, refreshed, and eager to finish my trip home. I walked down the nearly deserted road and the long-forgotten names of my co-workers at PPI suddenly flooded into my memory. From the day shift, I remembered my boss Joanne, her assistant Paula, the other CSR’s Chris and Laura, the typesetter Kathy, the paste-up artist John, and my good friend in Personnel, Debra. From the evening shift I remembered my supervisor Willie T, who was a famous DJ back in his Caribbean homeland. I remembered the paste-up artist Ron, and the other CSR, Debbie. I smiled as some great memories crept into my mind, and I noticed one other thing – I was singing the old songs I used to sing. It truly was Déjà vu all over again, and I was loving it, and maybe, I thought, if I just practiced more, I wouldn’t be so off key next time.

Peace & Love, and all of the above.

Earl

Fifteen years ago, I received a Bachelor of Nescience degree from the International University of Nescience in Medicine Hat, Alberta, Canada. Nescience, for those who don’t know, (he says, chuckling to himself) is the study of Ignorance. I guess my University realized that the word Nescience was far more likely to encourage enrollment in the program than would the word Ignorance. A Bachelor of Ignorance Degree doesn’t really do much for a resume, not that a Degree in Nescience is worth anything, but it does sound a whole lot cooler.

The International University of Nescience, may not be too well known, but it does bill itself as “The Leader in Agnostic Education Since the Second Millennium.” Truth be told, the degree was not that difficult to obtain. The only exam was a one-question online test. The question was “Does God exist?” A “Yes” or “No” answer got you kicked out of the school. “I don’t know” was the only acceptable answer. I got it right. So, now, armed with that prestigious degree and the 15 years of subsequent research I’ve done on the subject, I think I am qualified to write a little bit about Ignorance.

First of all, there is a big difference between being unaware or uninformed and being ignorant. Google defines Ignorance as lack of knowledge or information, but I strongly disagree (and remember, I have a degree in the field). My favorite definition of Ignorance comes from Frio937, who states that “Ignorance is when someone assumes that the knowledge they have obtained is correct, regardless of knowledge presented to them.” An ignorant person doesn’t necessarily lack knowledge or information, they just stubbornly hold firmly to their beliefs, even when presented with a mountain of information to disprove those beliefs. That is why, despite the tremendous increase in information available today via the Internet and other sources, Ignorance is actually growing. Fortunately, Frio937 was also able to explain this irony to me. “Ignorance is growing because information is changing so fast that people are becoming stubborn like rocks in a river, refusing to update their knowledge.”

I’ll admit it.  I’m guilty. With very few exceptions, I am ignorant of the popular music in the 21^st Century. I have stubbornly refused to listen to the stations playing today’s music and I cling to the Oldies Stations playing hits of the 50s, 60s, 70s, and 80s. Why? Because I feel that the music of my youth was the best music ever, and I refuse to update that knowledge. Some of today’s music might be far superior to ooh eee ooh ahh ahh ting tang walla walla bing bang, but I’ve been ignoring it. I’ve also dug in my heels on MP3s. In my lifetime, we’ve had 78 rpm records, reel-to-reel tapes, 45 and 33 & 1/3 rpm records, 8-track tapes, cassette tapes, CD’s, and MP3s. I stopped with MP3s and I didn’t care what they come out with next. I’m not buying it. Years ago, I consciously chose to ignore MP4s, MP5s, music on the cloud, or whatever direction music should take in the future.

Ignorance is a choice, and by definition, those who wish to remain ignorant on a subject can do so no matter how much information is available to the contrary. There are many political things that can be debated, but political debate is not likely to change anyone’s mind, especially if they have already made their decision and locked it in – Final Answer. If you have an opinion on one of the big issues such as Global Warming, the Death Penalty, Abortion, Religion, or Gun Control, most likely you locked in your opinion and then eagerly entered a state of Ignorance. Almost nobody can present an argument that will ever make you change your mind. Any information that doesn’t support your idea is quickly discarded, because to accept that information would force you to think about what you choose to ignore. Ignorance on both sides of issues have polarized us as a nation. People don’t seek out new information as much as “echo chambers” that confirm their opinions. They follow the stations which slant the news in the direction they prefer. Liberals get their news from MSNBC. Conservatives watch Fox News. I get my news from Comedy Central, because I’d rather laugh at what’s going on than take this world seriously.

How can we overcome this gridlock? We can acknowledge that we have become ignorant and listen with an open mind to what others with opposing opinions have to say.   Of course, that won’t be easy. It might even be impossible for some. Remember, you don’t necessarily have to change your opinion. You just have to listen to opposing opinions with an open mind. Don’t try tackling the big issues right away. Start with the easy ones. I know that I’m ignorant of what’s going on in pop music, so I just listened to some of the top pop songs of 2017:

Lady Gaga – The Cure, Shawn Mendez – There’s Nothing Holding Me Back, Clean Bandit – Symphony, Anne-Marie – Ciao Adios, Dua Lipa – Be the One, Ed Sheeran – Shape of You, Ed Sheeran – Castle on the Hill, Little Mix – Touch, J P Cooper – September Song, Katy Perry – Chained to the Rhythm, Zara Larsson – I Would Like, Rag ‘n’ Bone Man – Human, and Camila Cabella and Machine Gun Kelly – Bad Things

I didn’t like all of them, but I have to admit that some I really enjoyed. I realized that I have missed out on some good music by ignoring all the music of this century. So, little by little, I’m working on eliminating some of my ignorance.

Your move.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

“No I cannot forget where it is that I come from

I cannot forget the people who love me Yeah,

I can be myself here in this small town

And people let me be just what I want to be.”

John Mellencamp – Small Town

I try to write about the good times, because I know the drill – Laugh and the world laughs with you; Weep and you weep alone. Sometimes, though, the good times are also the sad times. Yesterday was one of those days.

I made another trip to New York, but this time it wasn’t for a show, a concert, a party, or bar hopping. I attended my cousin Janey’s wake. She was a few years younger than me, and passed after a long illness. So, we were able to take some comfort in the fact that she was no longer suffering, but even though we were, therefore, able to look at the glass as half full, it was really completely empty, drained to the last drop.

I can remember playing with her and her siblings when I was a kid. Their family had kids the same age as the kids in my family. Carol Ann was my age. Janey and her twin brother Jimmy were the same age as Brother X.  Pat was an extra, as we didn’t have anyone his age, but he was close enough to all of us, and their baby Rita was the same age as my baby brother, Kevin. It was always a treat to visit them, not only because we all had playmates there, but they also lived in the exotic land of Long Island. Hicksville was probably only about 15 miles from our house in South Ozone Park, but, in those days, it was like going to the Magic Kingdom. Unlike our row house, they had a house that wasn’t touching any of their neighbor’s houses. We had a backyard that was just barely big enough to bury my Howdy Doody doll when he became beyond repair. They had a great big yard that went all the way around their house.

Over the years our two families drifted apart geographically. I think Carol Ann started it by moving to California. Maybe it was when some of us went into the service.  Anyway, when the kids were all grown, their parents, my Uncle Leon and Aunt Rita, moved to Florida. I visited them once when I went to visit my Dad who moved near them after my Mom died. Now, the only time I see them all is when a family member passes away. The last time I saw them was when Uncle Leon died, and, like yesterday, those moments are always bitter sweet. The sadness of the passing is always tempered by the joy of seeing them.

This time was no different. In between viewings I went to a restaurant with my cousins, their spouses and grown children. We told stories, laughed, and joked just like old times. Somehow, we got on the topic of amusement parks. Then we talked about the hit TV show, Game of Thrones, where the midget seemed to be everyone’s favorite character. Then, naturally, we wondered if there were any big roller coasters that would allow little people to ride.

LOS ANGELES, CA – SEPTEMBER 23: Actor Peter Dinklage and Erica Schmidt arrive at the 64th Annual Primetime Emmy Awards at Nokia Theatre L.A. Live on September 23, 2012 in Los Angeles, California. (Photo by Frazer Harrison/Getty Images)

What do Peter Dinklage or Danny DeVito do when they go to Amusement Parks? They can’t be happy riding in tea cups all day. A Google search showed that there is a dwarf amusement park in China, but it’s not about thrilling rides for small adults. Instead, all the employees are dwarves. The only roller coaster I could find that was engineered to safely accommodate short adults is a ride called Wicked in Lagoon Park in Utah.

So, we (jokingly) planned the first Amusement Park built specifically for short adults and their children. We would have Randy Newman there on opening day, performing his big hit, Short People. The jokes started flying and soon we were all in tears. Perfect, since it was time to go back to the funeral parlor.

My condolences to The Long Family, and I hope I don’t see you again for a long, long time, but I’m really looking forward to getting together with you again.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl