The Luna Park Gazette

I went to a garden party to reminisce with my old friends... Hey, that sounds like a song. I'll have to keep that in mind. Meanwhile, let's talk about Sunday's Brooklyn Blogade at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden . This fabulous event at this beautiful location was organized by that sharp-eyed shutterbug Flatbush Gardener , whose photos I am once again proudly stealing for this post. I've been going to the Botanic Garden ever since I was a child, but this visit was really special. We had lunch outside at the Terrace Cafe and then headed into the Members' Room for some presentations from the Garden's staff. And then we got a guided tour of the place. The weather was beautiful as our guide took us around the garden's various sites. I told everyone about how I came here when I was a little kid with my aunt and got lost in the Japanese Garden. I still maintain that I was never lost and even if I were, this would be the place to do it. We ended up by the herb garden w...

At times like this I almost miss my typewriter. I spent four hours in tech support hell on Friday, spending the time being passed around from techie to techie like a hooker at a bachelor party. I’ve logged enough time talking to India to give me jet lag and frequent flier miles; I’ve got a crick in my neck from holding the phone against my shoulder and a crushed ear from pressing the receiver to my head. The only thing l don’t have is a working computer. After months of mild misbehavior, my Dell desktop finally went berserk last week, switching off without so much as a by-your-leave, which was one of my mom's expression that I thought I would bring out for this occasion. The computer liked to torture me, coming on long enough for me to think it was okay and then keeling over right before my eyes. I’d hit the power button a few times, the thing would power up, I’d feel confident it was okay and then—poof!—it would croak again. Usually I handle these things with a combination of blin...

“Wisdom and Knowledge shall be the stability of thy time.” I owe my life to the atomic bomb. It feels very strange and somewhat disconcerting to say something like that, given the horrific results of the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombings, which killed upwards of 220,000 people, but during a recent walk through my father’s old neighborhood I found how much I owe to world’s first—and so far only—nuclear attack. My Uncle Joe and his wife from L.A. came to stay with me last week and I took time off to accompany them as they did the New York tourist routine. We went to Rockefeller Center, took a ride around Manhattan on the Circle Line, caught a Broadway matinee, and took a ride up to Marble Hill so my uncle could see the area where he, my father and the rest of my dad’s family grew up. Their old apartment building is gone and I tried to imagine what the neighborhood must have looked like before the box retailers, chain stores, and bodegas, back when there was a dairy nearby that used horse-d...

The Brooklyn Blogade, a summit meeting of some of the funkiest bloggers you ever want to meet, will touch down at the Brooklyn Botanic Garden on Sunday, October 12. The event will be hosted by Flatbush Gardner , who took the photo accompanying this post, and it promises to be a blast. The Schedule of Events looks something like this: * 11am to 12noon: Food on your own at BBG's al fresco Terrace Cafe. Blogade attendees can sign in and get their name tags at the Blogade registration table near the Bonsai House. * 12noon to 2pm: Main program in the Member's Room of the recently landmarked Laboratory and Administration Building. Meet Dave Allen, BBG's Web Manager! There will be some brief presentations, time for Q&A, and of course, the shout-out. * 2pm to 3:30pm: Continue schmoozing as you explore the gardens on a guided tour of BBG just for those attending the Blogade! RSVPs REQUIRED: * BBG is offering free admission - and parking - to those attending the ...

I didn't think we'd ever lose Paul Newman. It sounds crazy to say that, but for some reason I thought we'd have him forever. I know everybody dies, but, come on-- Paul Newman ? I know he was old; I know he was sick. I know he was just a human being and not the supernatural spirit that we like to think certain movie stars are, but I'm greedy. I don't want to let him go. One time when my father was talking about Joe Louis and other fighters of that day, he paused and said with deep conviction "you thought these guys would never grow old." That sounded so odd to me back then, so ridiculous, but when I heard about Paul Newman's death on the radio yesterday, my father's words came back to me. I didn't think Paul Newman would ever die. My mother, like several million other women on earth, had the most incredible crush on Paul Newman. In fact, whenever she spoke about him, she always tacked on the singular possessive, saying " my Paul Newman...

I've been sick for the last few days, so I've been following the stock market's demise from home. I honestly don't think I could help much anyway. It's not like some old football movie, where the injured player rushes to the coach at a critical point in the game and cries, "you gotta let me play!" No, I thinking more of one of my father's lines, when he was really beat or fed up and he'd say in a bogus brogue, "Take me out, coach, I've had enough!" I started feeling lousy on Friday, so I stayed in the entire weekend, thinking I'd beat this thing by resting. But then Monday morning rolled around and I woke up with a headache worthy of a three-day bender. Only there was no bender to justify this misery, which makes me really angry. It felt like someone had driven a railroad spike into the side of my head. I usually fight going to the doctor, resisting until my friends and family are ready to drag me there, but this time I made the d...

And so now the final lie is put to rest. For ages, the neocon chicken hawks who so bravely supported the Disaster in Iraq—as long as someone else does the fighting—have been blathering on about…the Surge . The surge was the latest bonehead stunt put together by the same group of corrupt oil company lackeys and flag-waving yahoos who brought us the lies about weapons of mass destruction and an Iraq-9/11 connection. These were the same geniuses who told us there were be no insurgency—are you listening, William Kristol? Along the way, the pro-war crowd attached the patriotism of anyone who dared disagree with them and dismissed the abuses of Abu Ghraib and similar incidents as mild detours on the road to democracy. Of course they were wrong on every count. But rather than admit their lies and failures--oh, please!--the pro-war bunch came up with another lie…the Surge . The surge was supposed to be it, the strategic move that would wipe out the insurgency—the one that wasn’t going to happe...