I watched Lebowski today. Umpteenth time.
Seemed like a good idea after Trump tweeted that Meryl Streep was over-rated.
The Dude never disappoints.
Put my world today in proper perspective, he did.
Turns out, Trump was wrong!
A lifetime of wanting to believe our Presidential leadership has left me with shaky sea legs as our voyage with President Trump at the helm fast approaches. Sensing icebergs over the horizon, his doubters have developed a default of doubt for his tweets that cannot be a good thing for our future as a country.
The rug really pulled the Dude's room together.
Life lesson learned: when someone urinates on your rug, clean it up!
Trump is pissing all over us everyday. And why would he stop? Doing it has gotten him here, about to become 45th President of the United States of America?
#WarnWorld2017
#TrumpWorld2017
#TheDudeAbides
Monday, January 9, 2017
Saturday, January 7, 2017
January 7, 1989
Twenty-eight years ago today, also a Saturday, I was married at the Ingleside Inn near downtown Palm Springs.
It was a beautiful sunny day. It was my third and final wedding.
As a lifelong baseball fanatic, I put myself on the matrimonial bench for life when that marriage ended a dozen years later. Strike three and all, you know.
My memories of that day are bittersweet, as only seems appropriate for a third wedding.
Guests at that wedding included legendary movie director George Sidney and his wife Jane, the widow of Edward G. Robinson as well as Joe and Molly Youngerman and my best man Glenn Gumpel, all work friends. Also my business partners and their wives and various pals from the time.
Today, many of them are dead, with the rest of them flushed down life's swirling dervishes into the oblivion of my past.
When my third wife informed me she was moving to Savannah alone on July 31, 2000 my marrying days from the 20th Century came to an inglorious conclusion.
Seventeen years later, I am happy to report that no more marriages have invaded my space in the 21st Century!
With that resume, my observations on married vs single life would seem to offer value to those less experienced. If not, at least my notations in this journal may find someone else trying to figure out how we all fit together.
#WarnWorld2017
It was a beautiful sunny day. It was my third and final wedding.
As a lifelong baseball fanatic, I put myself on the matrimonial bench for life when that marriage ended a dozen years later. Strike three and all, you know.
My memories of that day are bittersweet, as only seems appropriate for a third wedding.
Guests at that wedding included legendary movie director George Sidney and his wife Jane, the widow of Edward G. Robinson as well as Joe and Molly Youngerman and my best man Glenn Gumpel, all work friends. Also my business partners and their wives and various pals from the time.
Today, many of them are dead, with the rest of them flushed down life's swirling dervishes into the oblivion of my past.
When my third wife informed me she was moving to Savannah alone on July 31, 2000 my marrying days from the 20th Century came to an inglorious conclusion.
Seventeen years later, I am happy to report that no more marriages have invaded my space in the 21st Century!
With that resume, my observations on married vs single life would seem to offer value to those less experienced. If not, at least my notations in this journal may find someone else trying to figure out how we all fit together.
#WarnWorld2017
Sunday, January 1, 2017
WarnWorld2017
January 1, 2017
The beat goes on...
NewYearsDay on Sunday seems wrong.
Even the fucking Rose Parade won't happen until tomorrow!
NFL Sunday bumps all in today's USA!
Trump has become de facto President.
Obama is packing up boxes of office supplies,
While taking actions worse than stealing the W's from WhiteHouse keyboards!
Let it go...seems like sound advice.
2017 marks 50 years since my high school graduation;
Reunion in August promises to be my last road trip,
from Sherman Oaks to Toledo and back?
Limited mobility rules my world so I will try to go;
It's by no means certain.
Writing this record of random thoughts on a mostly regular basis
Is my ambition for preparing to face my fellow 67 year old Toledo Woodward High School
Classmates unseen or communicated with since 1967.
My idea is to write in my voice at the reunion,
Like talking to fellow 2017 survivors.
What have I learned?
Number one, nobody gets out alive.
Jim Morrison tried to tell us but stubborn we are,
So death creeps near first then blusters and rants till
His sickle drips death on our shoes.
Also, that humor is our best defense from accepting #1
While waiting in God's waiting room.
Have you heard the one about the kid from Toledo who ended up in Hollywood?
It is a laugh riot!
The beat goes on...
NewYearsDay on Sunday seems wrong.
Even the fucking Rose Parade won't happen until tomorrow!
NFL Sunday bumps all in today's USA!
Trump has become de facto President.
Obama is packing up boxes of office supplies,
While taking actions worse than stealing the W's from WhiteHouse keyboards!
Let it go...seems like sound advice.
2017 marks 50 years since my high school graduation;
Reunion in August promises to be my last road trip,
from Sherman Oaks to Toledo and back?
Limited mobility rules my world so I will try to go;
It's by no means certain.
Writing this record of random thoughts on a mostly regular basis
Is my ambition for preparing to face my fellow 67 year old Toledo Woodward High School
Classmates unseen or communicated with since 1967.
My idea is to write in my voice at the reunion,
Like talking to fellow 2017 survivors.
What have I learned?
Number one, nobody gets out alive.
Jim Morrison tried to tell us but stubborn we are,
So death creeps near first then blusters and rants till
His sickle drips death on our shoes.
Also, that humor is our best defense from accepting #1
While waiting in God's waiting room.
Have you heard the one about the kid from Toledo who ended up in Hollywood?
It is a laugh riot!
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