The Luna Park Gazette

One of my favorite Rodney Dangerfield bits has the legendary don’t-get-no-respect comedian imploring his audience to give him the OK sign. “All my life, all I ever wanted was one of these,” Rodney said, joining his thumb and index finger and spreading his remaining digits. “I never got one of these.” It’s been a crazy week, with all sorts of nonsense chasing me down, driving me nuts, and refusing to go away. But I’ve decided to overlook all that grief and take a moment to blow my own horn, pat myself on the back, and give an OK sign to my own reflection for an incident that happened on Wednesday. I had strolled up to the 7/11 on Fulton Street to feed my bottomless Diet Coke habit and I wanted to treat myself—or abuse myself from a nutritional standpoint—by getting one of those big drinks with tons of ice. Yes, I know I shouldn’t be guzzling that swill at all, but there is a good side to this story, I promise. I loaded up one of those monstrous cups with ice cubs, stuck it on

“ You must learn to be uncomfortable! ” The cycling instructor at my gym made this comment well into Saturday’s class and I confess I was a little taken aback. Her classes are always gloriously difficult, for which I am incredibly grateful, as this is what I’m paying for, and what I currently need, given an annoying weight increase I’ve recently experienced. ( Oh, cheese , how could you do this to me?) And as a card-carrying Catholic school survivor, I live to be uncomfortable. I sprint from happiness like a deer flees a forest fire. Maybe I didn’t write the book on being uncomfortable, but I sure as hell added several new chapters. Of course, my instructor was talking about a different sort of uncomfortable. She was referring to short-term physical strain leading us to better health and trimmer waistlines. Saturday’s workout was quite different from her usual torture sessions and thus a bit disorienting—which is how you improve and grow. I, on the other hand, traffic in e

Maybe Erich Segal was wrong. The film Love Story became famous for the catchphrase “Love never means never having to say you’re sorry,” and while the line made it to No. 13 on the American Film Institute’s list of 100 top movie quotes, I think there are times when a sincere apology can do wonders for a relationship. I’ve been on a TV nostalgia ride for several months now thanks to the cable station known as MeTV, which presents a slew of old programs from my childhood. It’s a blast seeing the work of famous actors, writers, directors early in their careers, but I must say these shows display a serious lack of diversity. In fact, it doesn’t exist at all in this world of all Caucasian male all the time. And lately I’ve been picking up on some seriously hateful attitudes toward women in a couple of shows I otherwise enjoy. Have Gun Will Travel is probably my favorite of the old TV westerns. For the young people out there, the show starred Richard Boone as Paladin, a kind of Ren

The woman in the white veil has no idea how much she helped me. I was sitting in a pew at Our Lady Victory Church at Pine and William streets in Manhattan one day last week trying to reassemble my brain. I was recuperating from a brutal case of self-sabotage where I had done pretty much everything but ram my head into the nearest brick wall. I’m not exactly sure what exactly set this particular disaster in motion—something to do with my computer at work, I think—but I remember getting frustrated and then I turned the anger on myself, bitterly regurgitating all my past missteps, mistakes, and missed opportunities. I was so angry, so miserable, and so hard on myself that if this had been a prize fight, the referee would have stepped in and stopped the one-sided barrage immediately. It was the exact opposite of the mindset I’ve been trying to cultivate for 2019--my Hey 19 effort--where I do everything I can to have the Greatest Year Ever. Instead of thinking positively and ef