The Luna Park Gazette

In the 1966 movie The Christmas That Almost Wasn’t , Paul Tripp asks the musical question “Why Can’t Everyday by Christmas?” I never saw the movie and I wasn’t impressed with the song the one time I heard it, but I’m thinking about it now as I am still seeing Christmas lights more than a month after the holiday. Honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen lights up on homes and businesses for this long. Of course, the numbers have definitely dwindled over the last 30-odd days, but there are still several good-sized displays out there. And it’s not just my neighborhood. I saw some huge wreaths outside a bar on E28th Street in Manhattan on Friday night, and both my brother in New Jersey and my cousin in Arizona told me they’re seeing similar situations. Even the weather is getting in on the act, dumping a ton of snow on the East Coast and giving us a White Christmas four weeks after the fact. When I was growing up, we took down the Christmas tree and other decorations o...

I wonder how long that piece of paper has been taped to my wall. I know it’s been years, as the paper is torn, wrinkled and yellowed with age. I’ve taken it with me whenever I moved and made sure post it near my desk so I could look at it when I was writing and needed a quick boost of inspiration. I think it might actually date back to my typewriter days, when the only time I saw a computer was on Star Trek . Yes, it’s that old. This is a copy of a poem called “Don’t Quit”, which my mother cut out of a newspaper or some other publication and gave to me. “ When things go wrong as they sometimes do ,” it begins. “ When the road you’re trudging seems all uphill, when funds are low and debts are high, and you want to smile but you have to sigh, when care is pressing you down a bit, rest if you must but don’t quit .” My mother was always looking out for us and this included finding things in the newspaper that she thought might interest me or my siblings. Whether it was ...

“The moon is always full, it’s just our view that is partial.” – Jackie Deakin Being half-Italian I am prone to being superstitious. I knock on wood, throw salt over my shoulder, avoid black cats and relentlessly search for all kinds of hidden meanings in numbers, dates and events. I’m not saying any of these actions will ward off bad luck. I just don’t want to take the risk. Superstition is at the heart of “ Nick of Time ,” one of my favorite Twilight Zone episodes. This one features a pre-Enterprise William Shatner and Patricia Breslin as a pair of honeymooners whose car breaks down in a small Ohio town. The couple go for lunch at a local diner while their car is being repaired and Shatner soon falls under the spell of a fortune telling machine at their table. The “mystic seer” dispenses out vague answers to yes or no questions. So, when Shatner asks if he’s going to get a promotion at work, the machine responds that, “it has been decided in your favor.” Shat...

I sure hope Nathan Solomon got his food. Whenever my landline phone rings, nine times out of 10 it’s going to be a robocall peddling some product or service that doesn’t begin to interest me. Whether it’s important news about my car’s extended warranty, donation requests from the Fraternal Order of Police, or some twit telling me I’ve won a cruise to the Caribbean, the calls always end the same way—with me hanging up in under three seconds and wondering why the hell I still keep a landline phone. Of course, these calls always come when I’m eating or watching one of my favorite TV shows, as if they’re working with some kind of special psychic software that tells them the exact wrong moment to dial in. Now I do get a kick when my relatives ring me up on the landline and my phone's android tones methodically announces them, last name first, like they’ve just joined the army. I was at working on deadline Friday when, naturally, the damn landline started ringing. I waited...

“Your life is a result of the choices you make. If you don’t like your life, it is time to start making better choices.”--Anonymous It’s new year, that special time when I make all these grand promises, set all these lofty goals and vow to thoroughly overall my life. And with that determination comes the inevitable backlash in the form of an accusing inner voice that says you’re not doing enough, damn it--even though it’s only January 2. I should probably give this resolution business a rest, but I love this time of year—even the nutsy part. I’m thrilled at the thought of cleaning the slate and taking another crack at getting it right. Yes, I am aware that most resolutions fizzle out pretty quickly. A study by researchers at the University of Scranton found that only 19% of people actually stick to their resolutions. An article in Psychology Today warned against starting your resolutions on January 1. The author, Amy Morin, said that “people don't change th...

Nearly 30 years ago, a co-worker at a newspaper in Waterbury, Connecticut gave me a candle as a Christmas present. The candle is a round swirl of red, white and green wax and I kept it ever since, never once thinking of actually using the thing for its intended purpose. It's so attractive I thought it would be shame to light it up and watch all that beauty melt away. And I’m already paying enough money to Con Ed for the lights, what's the point of going all Ben Franklin? Then one day last week I caught sight of that candle sitting on my kitchen table and I thought, yeah, it’s time. I honestly don’t know what came over me; why, after more than three decades I had this sudden urge to finally light that wick. Maybe it was a desire to change, to break out of old molds and do something different, no matter how small or insignificant. The businessman John G. Shedd once said that “a ship is safe in harbor, but that’s not what ships are for.” I think the same can be...

The wind was the first clue. I woke up this morning some time before dawn to the sound of a harsh wind blowing outside my window. Wow, I thought, that doesn’t sound like sunny Southern California at all. Well, that’s because it wasn’t. I had been dreaming and I quickly realized that I was nowhere near Los Angeles, where it was sunny and 75 degrees. I was still in my home in Brooklyn on a cold December morning waiting for the sun to come up. L.A. was a mirage and it served as the setting for a larger, and ultimately more painful, delusion where I reunited with my former best friend who ghosted me several years ago and moved out West a few months back. I recall walking down a wide boulevard with the sun shining down on my face when my buddy came bouncing up to me from the opposite direction. I don’t remember when we said to each other, but I do know he stepped right in to give me a strong and very sincere hug. That feeling of his arms around me is so, real, so...