The Luna Park Gazette

My father may have cancer. I can't believe this is happening, and God willing, it may not happen yet, but his doctor is concerned enough to order the necessary tests. I spoke with Dr. Pearlman, my dad's doctor at the V.A., on Tuesday about my father's growing problem with incontinence. My dad has been soiling himself on a pretty regular basis now and I thought it was one of the signs of Alzheimer's, or a symptom of a stomach virus. But I never thought anything like this. Dr. Pearlman noted that my father has also been losing a great deal of weight, something like 20 pounds over the last six months. That in itself is so hard to believe because my father has always been overweight, always eating too much, always eating the wrong foods, and always getting angry at my mother when she tried to get him to slim down. My father did not want to hear it, as he larded on the butter or had another dish of ice cream. Now his clothes are hanging off him and Dr. Pearlman fears it may ...

I never thought I'd be glad to be stood up on a date, but tonight was the exception. It's miserable here in New York on this Earth Day, a cold, rainy, god-awful night and I'm sick as a hound. Two days it was sunny and 80 degrees and now we're back in the middle of November. It's a great night to stay the hell home. I've been feeling lousy for the last week and while I was starting to feel better, on Thursday I woke at 4:30 AM and I was suddenly sicker than ever. No fever, but congestion, upset stomach, the works. I probably could have gone in to work and then chugged uptown to see the shrink, but I said screw it, I didn't feel like being one of the walking wounded. Start Without Me New York is a tough enough town to handle when you're at your best. When you're sick, I have a feeling word gets around real fast and everything you depend on goes on the fritz. People are nastier, trains are even more crowded and even less unreliable than usual, and when ...

It's Easter Sunday today and it seems like just last week I was writing about New Year's Day. This year, like so many others, is flying by. I walked by Our Lady of Angels Church this morning (yes, I know, I should walked in ) and I remembered lining up outside the church with my classmates to attend Easter services. We always wore new clothes that day and some kids would try and scuff up your brand new shoes, or "initiate them" as the guys liked to say. I've been conducting some research amongst Catholic school survivors in an attempt to track one particular practice from my R.C. experience. (Sounds like a band, doesn't it?) We were told that if we remained silent for three hours on Good Friday, from noon until three, the time Jesus spent on the cross, we would somehow get extra points with the Big Man upstairs. Shut Up and Repent It was one of the few things that wasn't mandatory, you-shall-burn-in-hell-for-all-eternity type of thing, but strictly a bonus...

A few years ago I was looking through a junk drawer in the kitchen and I came across an old tie clip—remember those? This particular one was also a campaign button for a certain politcal candidate named John F. Kennedy. The round black and white image featured Kennedy’s singular profile, and, if you tilt it a little, it morphs to a slogan that reads “The Man for The 60’s.” I can just picture my father wearing this tie clip four decades ago. He was never one to keep his feelings secret. My father has always loved the Kennedys. As an Irish Catholic who fought in World War II, it was pretty much mandatory that he love them. And, since we were his children, it was mandatory for us to love the Kennedys as well. While America's royal family has been scorned, mocked, and ridiculed over the years, my father has always stood by them, like an old soldier standing guard long after the battle is over. Growing up, we could never say "Kennedy," because if we did, my father would sternl...

"Experience is the name everyone gives to their mistakes." -- Oscar Wilde There was a comedy show in the 80's called Almost Live , a kind of low rent Saturday Night Live that originated from the Pacific Northwest. It wasn't that good, frankly, but I recall one sketch about a couple who go through all the pain and misery of a relationship without ever meeting. Instead, they keep missing each other on phone and leaving telephone messages. Both parties misinterpret the messages and the hostility escalates, even though these people have not laid eyes on each other. That bit comes to mind today after yet another fiasco on the dating front. Here's how it went: Looking for Love I saw a woman's photo on a dating site and I sent her an e-mail. We exchanged some funny e-mails and decided to speak over the phone. On Tuesday I called her cellphone number and we spoke for nearly two hours. Okay, ...