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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

Baseball can be an “in your face” kind of game, and the spectators don’t have any immunity from the action. They sit at their own risk and face foul balls, flying bats, infielders, outfielders, catchers, and just about anything else that can hit a fan. I guess, if you consider the birds nesting overhead, shit hitting the fan should probably be on that list, too.

So, when my friend John showed up from New York for The Barnstormers home opener, I had tickets right behind home plate, where you’re protected from flying objects by a net. That way you can watch the game with a beer in your hand, like Abner Doubleday intended. John wasn’t my only guest. Debbie, and our friends Mike and DeeDee were also there. Debbie was mainly there for the souvenir tie-dyed T-Shirt given out to the first 1,000 adults. She all but assaulted the guy distributing the T-shirts to get one for John, who had nonchalantly strolled past the free T-shirt stand. Mike and DeeDee were just there to party. Mike is German and knew little about American baseball, and his wife knew just as much. They did know how to uphold the proud American tradition of Baseball and Beer, though.

Midway through the game, Mike, DeeDee, and Debbie decide that since all they really cared about was the food and drink, they were just gonna go to a bar. Good. Fine by us. “Let’s get rid of the ribbon clerks,” my Dad said whenever he raised in a game of poker. Now, it was just the two old friends, two baseball fans watching a close game from seats right behind home plate. Baseball as it oughta be. We watched the game intently, commenting on every play.

We watched a foul ball behind the plate that rose steadily higher and higher into the sky until it flared up in the stadium’s lights and looked like the Star of Bethlehem shining right above us. It hung there in the night sky for a brief second, and then, of course, what goes up must come down. John and I waited anxiously for the foul ball to come down. We didn’t have baseball gloves on, though. “We won’t need them,” I had said as we were leaving my house. “We’re sitting right behind the net.” Now, gloveless, we were both camped under a monstrous foul ball, which was racing towards us. Galileo may have been the very first one to calculate that things picked up speed as they fall, but John and I figured it out in time. When the baseball started to look like a speeding asteroid headed straight for us, we both dove out of the way. That was just a split second before it crashed into the back of John’s seat and bounced all the way up to the announcer’s booth.

There were fireworks after the game, but nothing could match the adrenalin rush we got from our narrow escape from the speeding baseball. We went to the bar where my friend Randy’s band, Hee Bee Gee Bees was supposed to be playing. Supposed, being the key word. There was no band and the modern equivalent of a juke box was blaring out “today’s hits” for the college-aged crowd. We retreated to my place after just one beer.

The next day, our usual breakfast location, The Onions Café, was packed, so we went to Grub N Stuff, right next to Puff N Stuff, the local head shop. Then we walked around town. There were quite a few people in costume. They were mostly girls with their hair tinted a neon color, and they were wearing very short flaring skirts. Eye candy. After a while, John asked me if there was a parade today.

“No,” I said, trying to be as nonchalant as possible, “It’s just a typical Saturday in Lancaster.”

Then someone like this went by.  

There was no way I could continue the This-is-just-a-normal-day-in-Lancaster ruse, but I continued to try. “A lot of the kids around here like to get their hair done on Saturdays. We’ve only got one McDonald’s, but we’ve got twelve tattoo parlors in this town. This is not average America. It’s more like Greenwich Village in the Fifties.”

Then our barmaid told him that there was an Anime Convention in town.  Blabbermouth.

“See?” John said. “I knew there had to be something going on.”

“Yeah, well, just keep in mind that they chose to hold their convention in Lancaster for a reason. This town is very freaky friendly.”

“I knew there was a reason you moved here.”

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

“Friday night they’ll be dressed to kill

Down at Dino’s Bar N Grill

The drink will flow and the blood will spill

And if the boys want to fight you better let ‘em. -Thin Lizzy

The 2017 Women’s Flat Track Roller Derby season has begun and I was there on Saturday to cheer on the Dutchland Rollers. There’s usually a little pushing and shoving, a bit of bumping and a whole lot of skating going on. It’s a contact sport, but it’s usually quite friendly. All the girls are amateur skaters and nobody’s out for blood. Usually.

On the very first jam of the game, one of the Wilkes-Barre/Scranton Roller Radicals gave Dutchland’s “Genghis Bon (#302)” a vicious elbow to the mouth, and the Roller Radicals quickly grabbed a 16-0 lead. That didn’t last long, though. Bon picked herself off the floor and Dutchland fought back. Bon, “Mega Pixel (#7),” “Harper’s Fury (93),” and “Metaphor Shadow (#17)” led their team to a crushing 205-98 victory in the first game.

Amanda and the Noise provided the half-time entertainment, and also performed in between games. They performed a number of original songs and a cover of the Go-Go’s hit We Got the Beat. They had the beat all right, but the Dutchland team gave the Roller Radicals a severe beat down in the second game. This time “Mugz Shots (#13),” “Scarface O’Hara (#26),” “Woomerine (#4),” “Alto Hurtya (#28), “Mama Moscato (#750), and “Mega Pixel (#7)” were the big heroes, as the Dutchland team absolutely destroyed their opponents 347-108. Rookie “Mugz Shots” really got the crowd buzzing when she scored 39 points in one of the jams, the most points I’ve ever seen scored by a jammer in one jam. Jammers score 1 point for every opponent they lap. To score 39 points she had to lap the other team 8 times during the short 2-minute jam. That’s not skating. That’s flying.

The after-party crowd at 551 West was thrilled to see that video of the team’s victories was prominently featured on local TV, and I was thrilled to hear that “Vanitti (#29)” is thinking about coming out of retirement for a few games this fall. I guess that after the rock ‘em sock ‘em action of Roller Derby, merchandising just isn’t exciting enough for her.

So, since I moved here, I’ve learned that Lancaster is home to great Minor League baseball and Women’s roller derby action. Then I saw a Roller Derby fan wearing this T-shirt. Now I want to find out where the local Rugby team plays.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

“I believe in the Church of Baseball. I’ve tried all the major religions and most of the minor ones – I’ve worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan…”

-Annie Savoy (Susan Sarandon in Bull Durham)

Happy Easter. Happy Spring.

The Lancaster baseball season kicked off today (Holy Thursday) with an exhibition game against the Lancaster Bible College Chargers. The Barnstormers won 17-0. I guess the Bible team either didn’t have God on their side, or else, maybe God was busy hiding Easter eggs for the big weekend ahead.

When I was a kid, Baseball was my favorite sport. My Mom was the world’s greatest Brooklyn Dodger fan, but I rooted for the same team as my Father, The Yankees. Then when I became old enough to bet, I switched allegiance to Harness Racing. Now, I am several hours away from a racetrack and only minutes away from a ballfield. So, I’m becoming a kid again.

As you can tell by the photo, there weren’t a lot of fans at the game, even though it was free to get in. If it wasn’t for the Bible College fans, it would practically have been a ghost town. The Charger faithful were there to cheer for every player on every play of the game. The Chargers know they are going to lose, but when a Bible College baseball player can be in a game against a real live minor league team, it’s a thrill for them and their fans just to be on the same field. The Barnstormers are a damn good minor-league team. Yet, if they had to face a major-league team like The Yankees, they would be praying harder that the Bible school kids were against them, and would be lucky to only lose 17-0. All things are relative. Einstein said that, and Einstein was in a league of his own.

The Lancaster Bible College sponsors the foul poles at Clipper Magazine Stadium, so I’m sure that the Barnstormers play this exhibition game every year to keep their sponsors happy. It’s always a rout, even though they sometimes give the Bible-thumping Chargers 4 or 5 outs in an inning. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen in a ballgame. The Barnstormer manager (formerly Butch Hobson, now Ross Peeples) runs out onto the field after the Bible students have made three quick outs, and asks the umpire to give them a few more outs so that his pitcher can get a little more work. The Chargers are thrilled, because they want to get everyone on the bench into the game. You know what? It’s an exhibition game. This is one of those moments when winning or losing really is secondary to the joy of just playing the game.

There’s another exhibition game on Saturday. This time it’s against another team in their league, the Southern Maryland Blue Crabs, and it’s also Fan Appreciation Day. It’s free to get in, hot dogs are just a buck, and they have a lot of giveaways, like posters of the team. It’s a good day to get young player’s autographs, hoping that someday they’ll make it to “The Show.” I’ll be searching out Connor Root, #30, a 24 year old pitcher who’s the youngest guy on the roster. The last pre-season game will be against the Blue Crabs on Tuesday. Then the team starts the official season with a week-long road trip.

Unlike the fictional Ms. Savoy, I haven’t tried all the world’s major religions, but, like her, I’m sure that I will spend way more time this Spring at the Church of Baseball than in any of the other churches here in Lancaster. The Barnstormer home opener is on April 28^th, and I will be there at Clipper Magazine Stadium with my friends John, Debbie, Mike and Deedee. Like John Fogarty would sing, “We’re born again. There’s new grass on the field.” Let’s go Stormers.

Can I get an Amen?

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

“…In Europe at the dawn of the Renaissance, mathematics was still limited by the cumbersome notation using Roman numerals and expressing relationships using words, rather than symbols; there was no plus sign, no equal sign, and no use of x as an unknown…”

-wikia

I get a limited amount of high-speed Internet on my phone each month. I have unlimited data, it’s just that once I go over the monthly high-speed limit, i-t g-e-t-s r-e-a-l-l-y s-l-o-w. I keep an eye on my account, and if the billing cycle is ending and I’m still under my quota, I usually binge watch comedy on YouTube. Since I’ve already watched dozens of comedies on DVD this winter, with my soon-to-be-expiring gigabytes of high-speed data, I decided to give documentaries a shot.

I started with an interview of Buckminister Fuller. He died in 1983, so it was a very old interview. Old Bucky was quite a bit ahead of his time, though, so I didn’t understand half of it. So, I watched a few more interviews with him, and after a few repetitions, some of his ideas eventually began to sink in. After several hours, I checked my Boost Account and I still had high-speed data left, so I watched a few more hours. Buckminister Fuller invented the geodesic dome and more that 300,000 of them have been built as super economical homes and offices. He actually lived in one himself for a while, during which time he discovered its one design flaw, the roof leaked.

He wrote many books and was the first person to refer to our planet as Spaceship Earth. He devoted his life to developing artifacts, like the geodesic dome, to help all humanity. In most of the interviews I watched, he was in his eighties. The interviewer would ask him a question and he would start rambling on about something completely different, like a politician might. At first, I thought that he must be losing his mind with age, but then I saw that instead of giving a sound bite, the old professor was actually giving the question a complete answer that took in all aspects of the problem, and the things that led to the problem. One interviewer on a tiny cable station asked about his opinion on the Falkland Islands war, which was a big news item at the time. He started talking about 1917 Russia, the Cold War, nuclear warheads, Economics, the population of the hemispheres, and a bunch of other things, and rambled on for several minutes before tying all his thoughts together and delivering his opinion of how all those things would affect the outcome of the war in the Falkland Islands. He was brilliant.

It was during one of those seeming diversions in an answer that he mentioned the publication in 1202 of the Italian Mathematician Fibonacci’s book “Liber Abaci” (Book of Calculation). This was the book most responsible for popularizing Arabic numbers in Europe. Using this “New Math,” Europe went from the Dark Ages to the Renaissance. Roman numerals are great for keeping track of Super Bowls, but they were a lousy way of doing calculations and scientific studies. Quick, what’s MCMLXXXVI times MCMLXLIV?

The introduction of Arabic numbers, negative numbers, and the zero made it exponentially easier for scientists to calculate whatever they were studying. Going from Roman numerals to Arabic numbers affected everything. Science figuratively took off like a rocket. This made me think about another time that a simple change in the way we do Math caused a complete change in the world, when we shifted from our base ten system to binary, just zeroes and ones. That didn’t just simplify calculations, it enabled computers to do all the calculations for us. Science literally took off like a rocket, then. I’m old enough to remember when the nerdy kids in school all carried slide rules to do their own calculations. I don’t think today’s generation has ever seen a slide rule. Computers have changed everything so much.

So, after I file my taxes online this year, I’ll drink a toast to Fibonacci. Paying taxes is never fun, but thanks to him at least, I can use a computer, and I don’t have to figure out my Adjusted Gross Income using Roman numerals.

Peace & Love, and all of the above.

Earl

Sexy nurse with the patient

I’m working on a book about my friend Debbie D., a native New Yorker, who arrived in Lancaster a few years before me. She’s a character, and since third-world countries will have high-speed Internet long before she ever goes online, I feel safe in writing anything I want to about her, here.

She’s knows I am writing a book about her, though, so it’s not a secret. Besides, she’ll probably be the first one to see the finished product. So, unless I want to wind up someday eating a steady diet of bunny rabbit stew, I won’t say anything to piss her off (too much). But, some stories just have to be told. Consider this a public service message. Stay healthy, Pennsylvania. Debbie just got a job as a homecare assistant.

She lost her job at the T-shirt store, when the boss decided not to open the store this year. He was branching out into the designer popcorn field, and that looked like a bigger moneymaker for him. So, Debbie went job hunting. She landed a job that didn’t require any computer skills. So, you could say that she was overqualified in that area. Nor did the job require any other skills. So, she nailed it.

She also nailed the job interview. They gave her a few hours of orientation and put her right out in the field. Fortunately for those individuals for whom she will be performing home care, the orientation was all about what she is NOT supposed to do. She can’t administer drugs, not even aspirin. She can’t even put a Bandaid on a patient, but she can give them a Bandaid if they are bleeding and are able to put it on by themselves. She is not there to be a nurse. She is only there to run errands, do dishes, sweep up, do the laundry, that kind of stuff. Still, it scares me half to death. I’ve known Debbie for more than 3 years, and she has a talent for breaking things that surpasses any proverbial bull in any proverbial China shop anywhere.

The home care company at least showed some good sense by making her first assignments two patients, who were under hospice care, and probably not going to live that long anyhow. Debbie showed a little good sense of her own, by asking to go meet the two patients while another caregiver was there, so that somebody could show her the ropes. As a gambling man, I’d say that both parties have now probably used up most of the good sense either of them ever had. So, if Debbie makes it through the probationary period, it’s only a matter of time before she’ll get assigned to someone not in hospice, at least not in hospice until after she became their caregiver. Stay healthy, Pennsylvania. Watch your diet. Take your vitamins. Exercise. The life you save could be your own.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

I went to New York for my friend Marianne’s 60^th birthday. Getting there was quite an adventure. I boarded the Amtrak train in Lancaster, PA. We barely made it past two stations when the power went out on the entire train. About a half hour later, they fixed the problem and we were rolling again. But the problem wasn’t really fixed. We made it past two more stations and lost power again. Once again it took about a half hour to “fix” the problem, and we were rolling again. We were only about 6 miles from Philadelphia when the train lost power again. This time they weren’t able to restore power, but they did come up with a Plan B.

Philadelphia was downhill from where we were stuck, so they decided to attempt to coast into the station. They released the pneumatic brake and we started rolling slowly. Gradually the train picked up speed and we made it all the way to the Philadelphia station. Once there, they announced that there would be a delay while they switched engines. Passengers could, if they so desired, walk over to track 3 and catch a train to New York, which would be leaving soon. Almost everyone raced towards track 3. It was like the lifeboat scene in Titanic. I was the only one to stay on board. I was on my way to a Patty’s Day party and it was only Thursday, so I wasn’t in a hurry. About 40 minutes later we were rolling to New York – the new engine, the train crew, and me. I had a private train all the way to Trenton, where two guys got on. Since it was no longer a private party, I had to take my music off speaker then and go back to wearing a headset. Fortunately, I took enough video while the train was my private train, so I’ll be able to put something on FaceBook to commemorate the day.

Marianne’s party was one of the best ever. As usual, she had hired Bob Gier to play the piano and entertain, but this time a bunch of us had parody songs prepared to honor Marianne. Her sister Geralyn channeled Robert Palmer to do a very funny parody of Addicted to Love. “Might as well face it that you’re over the hill.” One of Marianne’s cousins and her other two sisters, Eileen and Janet, played the gorgeous backup band who never crack a smile. They had the gorgeous part of the act, but couldn’t help laughing throughout the song. I can’t blame them. I was cracking up, too.

The entire O’Hara clan got up to do a riotous tribute parody to the tune of Piano Man. “It’s 9 o’clock on a Saturday. The regular crowd shuffles near. There’s a young gal sitting next to me, making love to her 60^th beer.” More cousins and friends did their rewrite of If I Only had a Brain, that was a mini biography of Marianne. “A Driscoll she did marry, Producer legendary. Twelve Emmys he has won. Three children they created, all with talent unabated. Yes, one daughter and two sons.”

The talent included performances by real live Broadway and Off-Broadway performers. None were easy acts to follow, so my friend Johnny and I were nervous when it was time for us to perform a parody of Chuck Berry’s Sweet Little Sixteen we called, Sweet Little Sixty. “They’ll be rocking in Merrick, Lancaster, PA, On the streets of New York, As long as Bob can play, All over Long Island, And way across the sea, All the cats want to dance with Sweet Little Sixty.”

Afterwards, I found out that Chuck Berry had just died. Some said that our “singing” of his song is what killed him, but I don’t think we were loud enough to be heard in St. Louis, though, goodness knows we tried.

Rock on Marianne. Roll on to Rock N Roll Heaven, Chuck.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl

“Honesty is the best policy.”

On Super Bowl Sunday, Bill O’Reilly interviewed President Trump. The most memorable part of that interview was when O’Reilly questioned the President’s respect for Vladimir Putin. “Putin is a killer!” O’Reilly reminded the President. Trump responded that “There are a lot of killers. We have a lot of killers. Well, you think our country is so innocent?”

Democrats and Republicans alike took umbrage with the President’s statement. They called it Un-American.

I wasn’t surprised by the political response, but I was astonished about the irony of the whole thing. Throughout the Presidential Campaign, Trump told one lie after another with relative impunity. Now, he spoke the truth, and it sent people into an uproar. Did all these people really believe our country was so innocent or were they mad because he spoke the truth so openly? I think it was a combination of the two. I think that most Americans are unaware of the atrocities committed by American military and intelligence agencies. To them, to even think that this country has skeletons in its closet, is Un-American. I think that those who were aware of the atrocities were appalled that an American President would shed light on them. To them, that was Un-American. Truth, Justice, and the American Way is all good for Superman, but Truth has no part in the American Way of politics.

A President telling Americans that we were responsible for the cold-blooded killing of people is worse than if he told Kindergarten classes across the country that there is no Santa Claus. It disturbs Americans to think that we gave smallpox infected blankets to the Indians, enslaved boatloads of Africans, turned away boatloads of Jews fleeing Nazi Germany, locked up over 100,000 Japanese-Americans in Internment Camps during World War II, or massacred people at My Lai. So, we don’t talk too much about that kind of stuff, even though they are all well-known events. Most Americans would be absolutely horrified to learn of the further atrocities that are hidden under the veil of secrecy, such as Top Secret Black Ops to assassinate world leaders and ruthlessly overthrow democratically elected governments.

Louis Brandeis, an associate justice of the U.S. Supreme court once said that “Publicity is justly commended as a remedy for social and industrial diseases. Sunlight is said to be the best of disinfectants; electric light the most efficient policeman.”

The way to control evil behavior is for evildoers to be exposed, and many have been exposed and prosecuted. Even more are now being exposed as the government records shielding them have been declassified. Right now, I’m listening to a 17 CD audio book called, “Legacy of Ashes: The History of the CIA, by Tim Weiner.” It is based upon the contents of more than 50,000 CIA documents that have been declassified. I’m only on disc 7 and it is becoming a bit painful to continue. Most of the villainous black ops committed by the CIA were illegally hidden from the Presidents and Congress. Some, though, were carried out with their full knowledge. The CIA was originally formed to gather intelligence, not carry out Black Ops. Despite this, there were 163 Black Ops carried out by the CIA during the 8 years that Eisenhower was the President. And they were just warming up. They carried out 170 Black Ops during the 3 short years that Kennedy was The President. I’ve learned how they were responsible for hundreds of deaths, and I still have 10 more discs to go. No, Mr. O’Reilly, this country is not so innocent. President Trump spoke the truth. We have stone killers here, too.

The trouble is that by the time these documents were declassified, the evildoers were no longer alive. That is the trouble with Top Secret documents. By the time they are declassified and we learn the truth, the truth is no longer relevant, and the situations are no longer correctable. On the other side of the coin, many good projects absolutely require secrecy. The Allied Invasion on D-Day is probably the best example. I, therefore, propose that the government must be able sometimes to operate in secrecy, but that classified documents should be declassified much more rapidly – in years, not decades. Evildoers must know that they will be exposed in their lifetimes. Knowing that, just might prevent them from hatching some of their evil plans, and help clean up the swamp a bit, even if we can’t drain it completely.

Now, back to President Trump. I would like to think that his moment of truth was an effort to bring transparency to the government, but I can’t help thinking that it might have been something completely different. We all know that he is in favor of torturing prisoners for information. When questioned about Waterboarding, he said that he believed in it, and MORE. So, I fear that The President’s frankness about U.S. killers was less about transparency and more like a lawyer introducing legal precedents which would allow him to proceed in the same manner. I fear that he thinks it might be okay to overthrow any government that won’t let the U.S. dictate their policy, simply because we already did it in Chile, Guatemala, Africa, Iraq, and plenty of other places.

We are putting The Monroe Doctrine on steroids. Not only does this President feel obligated to control the “bad hombres” in our hemisphere, by doing things like threatening to send the Army into Mexico, but he feels that he can interfere with any government anywhere if they don’t do what we say, and he has requested more military spending to help him carry out his wishes. The fact that he made his killer comment on TV during the Super Bowl shows that he’s not even trying to keep it a secret.

Peace & Love, and all of the above,

Earl