The Luna Park Gazette

One of my fondest memories of my mother was the way she used to sing. It didn’t matter what she was doing—cooking, cleaning, or riding in the car—if the spirit moved her, my mother wouldn’t hesitate to break out into song. Mom loved the old standards and if she had trouble remembering the words, she’d just fill in the gaps with a series of “la-la-la’s” until she got back on to lyrical terra firma. Like most parents of that era, my mother had little use for rock and roll, declaring that back in her day “we had real music!” I teased her about that once when she started singing “ Hold Tight ,” by the Andrew Sisters. The song contains the immortal lines, “ Hold tight, hold tight, a-hold tight, hold tight, fododo-de-yacka saki, want some sea food mama, ” which my mama recited perfectly. “And you complain about my music?” I said after this performance. My aunt told us how my mother used to drive her crazy by singing “ Meet the Sun Half Way ” when they were growing up and Mom s...

I’m trying to remember when the Black Friday “door-buster” phenomenon started. My memory might be fuzzy, but I swear there was a time in America when we didn’t have these savage displays of greed. Yes, there were Black Friday sales, but people behaved themselves back then--as opposed to today where psychotic shoppers camp out all night so they can storm shopping malls in a retail rendition of “The Hunger Games.” The news footage coming out of shopping malls is absolutely sickening. These images go all over the world and I can only wonder what people in other countries are saying about us. There was a series of violent incidents today at stores across American as crazed consumers fought, pulled guns, and ran people over with their cars in their zeal to nail a bargain and celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ. People who call themselves Christians are acting an awful lot like the ancient Romans. It has gotten so bad that The Huffington Post is asking readers to “Send Us Your Ho...

I walked down 75th Street this morning and saw a blind man heading toward me swinging his cane. Had it been any other time, I probably wouldn’t have paid much attention to him, other than to stay out of his way and offer him help if he needed it. But today I had an appointment with an eye doctor and vision—or the potential loss of it—was preying on my mind. I’ve been very lucky. At 55 years old, I’m still not wearing glasses. I’ll admit I do a good deal of squinting and I view print in three stages: small, very small, and hell, no . I knew I’d have to give in at some point and get glasses, but I was hoping to put it off until…forever. But last week I started seeing bright flashes of light in the corner of my eye whenever I turned my head quickly. I tried to ignore them but it was scary having these lightning bolts going off around my head. Then two days ago the floaters showed up and refused to leave. They’re like hairs or an eyelash only you can’t wipe them away. I race...

The first thing I heard was the screaming. I was walking down Fulton Street this morning and as I prepared to cross Broadway and go into my office building, I heard a shriek that shook me right out of my Monday morning stupor. “Let go!” I looked to my right and there were two cops, one male, one female, wrestling with an African-American woman. She was sitting on the ground right outside the subway entrance and the cops were trying to pull her to her feet, but she wasn’t cooperating at all. I never did get a look at her face, so I can’t say if she was young or old, but she seemed to have a lot of energy as she fought with the two police officers. As the three of them struggled, the woman screamed louder. Her wig tumbled off her head at one point and lay on the ground like roadkill. The male cop pulled out a cannister of mace and squirted it into the woman’s face. She turned away, but kept on fighting. It was an ugly, bizarre scene to witness on this chilly morning and nat...

Clarence the angel showed up a little early this year, but he certainly earned his wings. The Clarence in question was a customer service representative from my company’s human resources department and while he seemed nothing like the heavenly helpmate from “It’s A Wonderful Life,” he did a very good impersonation. Yes, you’re probably fed up with any references to Frank Capra’s holiday classic, seeing how often it’s shown on TV. But the holiday season is getting underway and the guy’s name really was Clarence, so I think the comparison is justified. And furthermore—I love that word--the name Clarence means “bright, shining or gentle,” according to the dictionary, and this fellow was all three. I “met” Clarence in the middle of a nervous breakdown when I thought I had missed the annual enrollment deadline for my company’s health care plan. If you miss the deadline, you’re not covered for the following year and that’s why I make a point of getting it done in time--even thou...

We always had plenty of presents around our Christmas tree each year and every now and then one of them would go unopened. Usually the package had been pushed so far under the tree that it escaped our notice for a day or two. But it would eventually be discovered and if the gift happened to have your name on it, well, that really made the season bright. I had a similar experience recently, although it had nothing to do with Christmas or wrapping paper. No, this particular present was a Japanese film called “ Still Walking ” that I had recorded a year or more ago and never watched--until now. Night after night I would see the title listed on my DVR screen. I’d read the synopsis about a young man dealing with his aging parents and I always found something else to watch. I think the only reason I recorded it was because the film had a high rating from the Sundance Channel. I had the film for so long that I seriously considered deleting the thing without viewing it. I’m trying to cl...

I guess this counts as significant... I came home tonight from a long, hard commute to find that my cable, TV, and internet service had been restored. After all the ranting, cursing, angry phone calls and emails, I walked into my home office and saw the row of green lights glowing on my modem. That little black box had been dark for so long that I felt like singing " When the Lights Go On Again " at the top of my lungs--only I didn't know the words. I was told that the work crew wouldn't be in my neighborhood until Monday, but that turned out to be wrong--just like everything else the Time Wiener Cabal told me. So I'm finally back on my own computer. I am so grateful that my sister had very kindly allowed me to hook up my company laptop to her modem so I wouldn't have to travel to Manhattan. That worked fine for two days, but then last night her modem died. I was convinced that it was my fault, but the cable company said her modem was old and on th...

Calling somebody “a two-bit grifter” probably isn’t the best way to express yourself, but I was pretty annoyed at the time. I was unloading my rage into an email to Time Warner CEO Glenn Britt, who collected $8.9 million last year but who still can’t get my phone, internet, and TV service working 11 full days after Hurricane Sandy. I entitled my missive “Dear Parasite,” so there was no way he could mistake it for a fan letter. In a recent third-quarter phone call, Britt was quoted as saying “We’re still evaluating the loss and the extent of insurance coverage, but we don’t expect the amount to be very significant.” Not very significant? Maybe not for you, Glennie Boy, but you should try talking to people who have real jobs. You’d be amazed. I am so fed up with these rock star millionaires who can buy their way into presidential elections or clog up various media platforms with their comings and goings but never seem to do an honest day’s work. This country’s priorities are s...

Glenn Britt made $8.9 million as the chairman and CEO of Time Warner Cable, but that's no resaon why he shouldn't take my phone calls. I called Mr. Britt directly today. I was fed up with dealing with the minimum wage androids on the company help line, the ones who seem incabable of telling why my cable, internet, and TV service has been out for the last 9 freaking days or when it might come back on. I had to learn about Barack Obama's victory over the radio this morning because I have been denied the most basic forms of modern communication. Don't get me wrong, I love the radio, but there are some things you want to see. It felt strange dialing Time Warner's number and, to be honest, I almost hung up. He's a big executive, he doesn't have time for the likes of me. But I held my ground. No, goddamnit, I thought, if Glenn Britt wants to pull down all that money to do whatever the hell he does, than he can bloody well listen to his customers complaint...

So it's Day Eight and I still don't have an internet, telephone, or television connection. This is also Election Day, and I did my civic duty, but at this rate I'll have to get the results by carrier pigeon. I am getting so fed up with this. If I lived in the backwoods of Kentucky, I would understand that the hook-ups would be touch and go. But I don't. I live in New York Freaking City, the center of it all, and yet I'm forced to borrow my sister's computer to blog and tape my cellphone to my head to talk to people. I've been away from the web for so long I feel like Amelia Earhart. Yes, I understand other people have it worse. Yes, I should probably be ashamed of myself for complaining. But the combination of the chronic fatigue, bad back, and inability to communicate with the outside world is making me nuttier than usual. I get the feeling that if I were reduced to just a head in a fish tank, someone would knock on the glass and say, "you k...

Hey, blog buddies: I'm writing to you from an undisclosed location (my sister's apartment) because the degenerate goofballs at Time Warner still can't get my internet connection going. Is this the 21st Century or what? I hope all of you are safe and well. I did get my MRI done on Wednesday, but since my specialist is located in lower Manhattan, and thus out of power, I don't know what the next step will be. I'll be posting and catching up on your blogs as soon as I can. I thank you all for your concern and please do me a favor and take care of yourselves! See you soon.