Posts

Showing posts from March, 2015

Where is the Love?

Image
“ A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. ” --John 13:34-35 The Black-Eyed Peas were right—something really is wrong with the world . In particular I’m looking at Indiana and Virginia and their disgusting legislation that allows bigots to hide behind their alleged “religious beliefs” and refuse providing services to gay people. Make no mistake, people, these atrocities are not laws; they’re hate crimes in drag. They give extremists a legal excuse to inflict their vile views on the rest of us. It’s shocking that someone could actually invoke the name of Jesus Christ in defense of these horrible bills. They need to stop thumping the Bible and actually start reading it. What would Jesus do? Not this bullshit, I can assure you. I wonder what world these holy idiots live in where the biggest problem you face is making a cake for a gay wedding. Must be great to live in a place where there’s no crime, no poverty, no homeless

Crossing Paths

Image
I didn’t see the well-to-do up and down Park Avenue, but last week I almost collided with a first class schmuck on that famous thoroughfare. I was on my way to a meeting at Fidelity Investments’ midtown office at Park Avenue and 51st Street in an attempt to get a reading on my finances. I’ve had an account with them since 1980 and while I’ve been making annual contributions to my IRAs I had no real handle on their worth. I had been relying on my brother, who had worked at Fidelity for years, to manage my money. But he left the company a while ago so now I was trying to make some shaky steps towards adulthood before senility sets in. I have to confess that my knowledge of my holdings is shockingly limited. When it comes to any discussion of this topic I tend to go into full-on Butterfly McQueen mode and wail, “ I don’t know nothing about managing no mutual funds! ” This had to change. Two weeks ago I met with my bankers at JP Morgan Chase and now it was Fidelity’s turn. I g

The Dad Project

Image
I was standing in the men's room line during intermission at a theater in Union Square last week when I had this flashback to a terrible fight I had with my father when I a young man. It happened nearly 40 years ago and yet it came popping back into my head like a poison mushroom. I was getting ready for school one morning when my father came walking in the bathroom without knocking—something he did quite often. I got angry—something I do quite often--we both started yelling at each other and then it escalated to a point where he was lunging at me while I started smashing karate chop blows to his face. It was horrible. My mother was right in the middle of this hideous confrontation, as she usually was, the poor woman, and I would give anything to undo it. But failing in that, at least I’d like to stop replaying the goddamn thing. My sister, auntie and myself had gone to see the Irish Repertory Theater’s production of Da by Hugh Leonard, which I’m sure helped resurrect th

Let It Go

Image
“Every time we say ‘I must do something’ it takes an incredible amount of energy. Far more than physically doing it.” –Gita Bellin I pressed the buttons on the MetroCard machine Friday and watched as absolutely nothing happened. I had just struggled through a herd of cattle-minded commuters to get down the stairs at the Courtland Street R station—and all for naught, or so it seemed. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!” I said much louder than I should have. I was cold, tired, and extremely fed up. It had snowed the night before, the temperature had dropped accordingly, and I was so goddamn sick of winter. I was doing a very good job of feeling sorry for myself when I heard a voice coming from behind me. “That happens sometimes when it gets cold,” the voice said. I turned around, embarrassed by my outburst, and saw a rather heavyset middle-aged woman standing before me. Between having my vision impaired by my hood and my mind clouded by self-pity, I just plain didn’t see this lady stan

Street of Dreams

Image
It was the same old song, only now it was completely different. I was fiddling around on YouTube the other day and I wound up going back in time and reliving some personal history. I was listening to a block of songs by Bobby “Blue” Bland , a fabulous blues singer whose name I had known for years, but whose work had only recently caught my attention after I saw The Lincoln Lawyer and heard Bobby singing “ Ain’t No Love in the Heart of the City ” over the opening credits. Bobby does an excellent job with this song and it really sets the mood for the film. I felt like I should know the song and the singer and the fact that I didn’t know either one sent me scurrying straight to the Internet. YouTube was only too obliging, hooking me up with one Bobby tune after another. The standouts include “Members Only,” “I Ain’t Gonna Be the First to Cry,” and “I Wouldn’t Treat a Dog (The Way You Treated Me).” I felt like an explorer discovering a lost civilization. Yes, obviously millions