Category Archives: Original writing

Quotes#4

Posted on by under Books, Generic Rant, Original writing

Back in the day, when I was writing another blog (q.v. Limping in the Light) I had a few series of posts, such as things I’m thankful for, lies we believe, spiritual disciplines of the modern world, among others. One abbreviated series I ran was of meaningful quotes. There were only three such posts in that blog. (If you’re interested, you can find them here, here, and here.) That’s a shame because I collect and save such quotes at an alarming rate. The file in which I record them contains a few hundred.

Such a waste! To relieve my conscience, I think I’ll share a couple here.

I just finished reading Maya Angelou’s “I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings”. Not only was it a wonderful book, it was a treasure trove of wisdom. Here are a couple of nuggets.

Here’s a statement of the human condition which sadly has been so for all recorded time.

People whose history and future were threatened each day by extinction considered that it was only by divine intervention that they were able to live at all. I find it interesting that the meanest life, the poorest existence, is attributed to God’s will, but as human beings become more affluent, as their living standard and style begin to ascend the material scale, God descends the scale of responsibility at a commensurate speed.

Although her book was published in 1969, Ms. Angelou prophetically characterizes certain current national figures with this analysis:

In order to be profoundly dishonest, a person must have one of two qualities: either he is unscrupulously ambitious, or he is unswervingly egocentric. He must believe that for his ends to be served all things and people can justifiably be shifted about, or that he is the center not only of his own world but of the worlds which others inhabit.

I’ve never seen a more precise description of a certain despicable scoundrel who is even now tearing down everything we cherish.

It’s not the…

Posted on by under Generic Rant, Original writing

Have you ever noticed how many popular expressions take the form, “It’s not the … it’s the …”? I’ve collected a few that came to mind. I’m always open to more.

  • “It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity.” This tired old saw should be retired. Does anyone really want to hear this on a sultry, sweltering summer day? It only makes matters worse.
  • “It’s not the feet, it’s the humility.” This spin on the previous one is unusual. It was presented to me as a way to get across the lesson of Jesus washing His disciples’ feet on what we celebrate as Maundy Thursday. This is way more acceptable than that last one. In this case, it’s always the humility.
  • “It’s not you, it’s me.” No one wants to hear this, least of all George Costanza!
  • “It’s not the meat, it’s the motion.” Rated PG-13!! Technically, it’s “It ain’t…” but who cares? Fifty-one years ago Maria Muldaur rocked the world with this hot little number. Pretty tame stuff by today’s standards.
  • “It’s not the gift [or expense], it’s the thought that counts.” I honestly believe in this one, although it never feels true when people say it.
  • “It’s not the years, it’s the mileage.” Only Indiana Jones could have sold this one such that we’re still saying it 44 years later. For those of us who aren’t Indy, it is the years.
  • “It’s not the size of the dog in the fight, it’s the size of the fight in the dog.” This is an excellent addition to the list. Admittedly, I’d never heard of it before today when I was researching this post. This is often attributed to Mark Twain but, like so many other apocryphal quotes, it is not his. See this excellent explanation of its origins.

That’s all I’m aware of but it’s not the quantity, it’s the quality. At least that’s what people say.

Nag, nag, nag

Posted on by under Generic Rant, Original writing

(A gift post. A little while ago, I found this article filed away as a “draft” in my now deceased blog, “Limping in the Light” *. I must have written it in Days of Yore but never published it. Either I changed my mind or just plain forgot about it. Now it resurfaces to give me a new post with minimal investment. Being the noodge I am, however, it has taken me longer than expected. You can decide whether it was worth it.)

I don’t like nagging and I don’t like being nagged. I don’t know anyone who does. Even the nagger (one who nags, q.v., as opposed to the naggee) doesn’t get anything out of it. (There are those who derive some perverse pleasure from it, but they embody their own punishment.) And it doesn’t work. At best, the nagger gets what was nagged for—with a side of resentment and bitterness—but never what was truly wanted or needed.

Yet I find myself inundated with nagging. Day in, day out, day through, day over, day around. It never ends. No, it’s not from the stereotypical busybody sitcom housewife. There aren’t any of those in my life. The naggers I’m talking about are complete strangers to me. To those badgering bozos, I am less than a number. I am a disembodied statistic in their potential market share. Here’s the problem:

Cable TV** – Don’t have it, don’t want it, won’t get it. I grew up in a time when movie theaters ran ads heralding the prophetic image of a cash-eating box sitting on top of my TV. It came to pass just as they predicted! Paying to watch TV is like paying a fee for the privilege of shopping. (That happens, too, I hear.) Besides, I’m a TV-holic. No one asks alcoholics why they don’t have beer taps in their houses.

Verizon and Comcast don’t get the message. Nag, nag, nag. A week doesn’t pass without getting at least a couple (usually more) ads to sign up for one of their TV plans. I’ve even told them verbally that they are wasting their time and postage. Your cable rates would drop about 5% if they stopped sending me mailings.

Email spam – Fake Rolex watches, generic Viagra, jobs, lower interest rates, college degrees, tech gadgets, not to mention the unmentionables. There is no limit to the crap I am nagged to buy via email. True, those messages all end up in my spam bin only to be deleted, but I know they’re there. Is anyone really responding to these nags?

Phone spam – Lower your interest rates, sell your time-share, clean your chimney, IRS scams, vote for me, give, give, give, nag, nag, nag. Call me without me inviting you to do so and I will refuse whatever you are offering. Actually, I’ll never know because I don’t answer any calls from numbers I don’t recognize. The world would be a lot better off if everyone followed the same practice. (hint, hint)

Credit cards – I average a credit card offer in the mail every day, with batches of up to five arriving in a single day, some for cards I already have. Stop nagging me! If I want a new credit card, I’ll get it, but blind mailings accomplish nothing except cost you, and by inference your customers, large piles of money.

The nagging goes on and on. TV commercials. Billboards. Traffic signs. PC/Windows warnings. I predict that this post alone will elicit at least a few spam messages, “likes”, or “follows”. All of which will be ignored. Nag, nag, nag.

I am pummeled with messages (nags) with all the subtlety of flying mallets. (Thank you, Dave Edmunds, for the metaphor) This is nothing short of brainwashing. That’s the tactic. And you (and I) are the target.

Eventually, unless you are on your guard, you will actually believe that your life will be improved by a Swiffer or Proposition X.X or enhancement pills or this software or that exercise program or some innovative training class. None of them will improve you or your quality of life.

The only thing that would improve my life is if everyone would stop nagging me.

* Perhaps I should resurrect that old blog. The title is once more sadly appropriate, after a long and welcome lapse. Then again, why tempt fate?

** This is the downside of posting an old article. Some concepts from the era in which this was written (not that long ago) are already obsolete. Such is the case with “cable TV”, if you remember what that was. Substitute “streaming service” (e.g. Disney+, Peacock, Max, Netflix, Apple TV, Prime, blah, blah, blah, nag, nag, nag—each one a monthly subscription conspiring to drive you into bankruptcy while frying your brain) or “cell phone plan” and we’re back to the same old song and dance and nag and nag.

Mexico is building a wall!

Posted on by under Generic Rant, Original writing

As one of her first moves as Mexico’s new president, Claudia Sheinbaum has declared that she plans to build a wall along the border with the USA and she expects them to pay for it.

“We proud Mexican citizens are tired of all these people coming from the US ruining our country. They send rapists, mentally ill, liars, felons, misogynists, sexual predators, and bigots. Admittedly, the only person fitting all those descriptions is the newly elected president of that morally bankrupt country. But with that buffoon in charge, can more like him be far behind? Stay out of our country! They’ve never even had a woman running the joint. How backwards is that? Hello, losers! It’s the 21st century!”

They’re eating the Taco Bells!

That’s not all that concerns her. She continued, “As if all that weren’t enough, they’re going to come down here and try to open up Taco Bells. Taco Bell!! In Mexico! Are they kidding? Why not open a Red Lobster in Maine? Or Papa John’s in Naples? We’re Mexican! We know how Mexican food is supposed to taste and that ain’t it!”

She concluded by declaring, “Keep your crappy food and your corrupt leaders and their reprehensible ways out of Mexico. Stay behind that wall and pay up when the bill comes!”

Thot Dump*

Posted on by under Generic Rant, Movies, Original writing

From time to time, it becomes necessary to do a Roto-Rooter® job on my brain. Ideas, thoughts, whims, and other random ephemera (to borrow a phrase from the subtitle of my 9th book) clog up my scarred brain and need to be snaked out before they leak all over the place and/or my brain backs up. Either one would not be pretty.

Let me now foist some of these notions on your innocent and unsuspecting mind:

Not long ago I watched (for about the 14th time) the original “Terminator” movie. You know, the one where Ahnold is a bad guy and he says “I’ll be bahk!” As often happens after multiple viewings of the same movie, something new and absurd caught my eye. Sarah Connor and her protector, Kyle, escape from the police station that the Terminator had just gone bahk to and, well, terminated. For the first time, I noticed the vehicle they escaped in. It’s an AMC Gremlin! I love it! Could there be a more incongruous mode of transportation in such a movie? I’ve since learned that there are at least three Gremlins in different scenes in the movie. Can you spot them? (Now we know what happened to the rest of the car, toots.**)

You might see me as just another blogger whose writings captivate you with flights of literary genius, thus bringing you back time and again to reach new heights of reading ecstasy, but I’m a lot more than that. In all humility, I must tell you I’m a worker of miracles. In fact, I perform such miracles almost every day when I make a huge deal out of nothing at all. Ask my wife, she’ll tell you.***

My favorite activity (or at least one of my top three favorites) is something I do every chance I get. Whenever I see babies, the younger the better, I try to catch their eyes. Babies have an incredible ability to lock onto your eyes and never let go until it’s impossible to maintain visual contact because of distance or angle. They stare at me (or you!) as if I’m the most fascinating thing on earth. It’s great for the ego but I always wonder what’s going on in their impressionable, developing minds. I hope it’s not, “Wow, there’s a strange looking dude.” But I don’t care what it is. I just love looking into those beautiful, innocent, inquisitive eyes.

One last question: How is it that saying “something is up” means the same as “something is going down”? Just asking.

* See what I did? I shortened “thoughts” to “thots”, thus saving valuable time and electrons. Of course I’ve blown both by adding this asinine comment but, hey, you can’t have everything.

** Obscure reference to old Gremlin commercial from the 70’s. Yeah, I’m that old. And more. Sadly, I can’t find the commercial anywhere except in the dark recesses of my dark (and getting darker every day) mind.

*** She’ll also tell you that I’m adept at the equally miraculous feat of turning molehills into mountains.

Big Pharma Hits the Wall

Posted on by under Original writing

Press Release

For Immediate Release

Cambridge, MA, December 19, 2023 — Biozyme Corporation®, a global provider of innovative pharmaceutical solutions, announced today that it has run out of letter combinations for all future drugs, including those under development. “With the release of our new cutting edge SBS (shy bladder syndrome) medication, Ininossssdzz©®, we have exhausted all reasonable length permutations of the 26 letter English alphabet,” said Bryce Fiasco, Chief Appellation Officer for Biozyme©®℗. “We need to start exploring entirely new character sets.” The CAO adds, “Biozyme©®℗Ø is not facing this dilemma alone. The entire industry has depleted all combinations of characters 12 letters or less.”

Biozyme©®℗Ø֍ was not forthcoming with any details regarding their plans going forward. Rumor has it they will be utilizing numbers, non-English alphabets, heiroglyphics, emojis, animal noises, as well as tones picked up by radio telescopes aimed into deep space.

“At Biozyme©®℗Ø֍♂, our core competency has always been innovation and we’re very excited to move ahead into previously uncharted sobriquet territory. No longer will we be restricted by the arbitrary limitations of an archaic collection of characters.” It is expected that the first drug employing the new naming paradigm will be Biozyme’s©®℗Ø֍♂☺groundbreaking treatment for the relief of side effects of their drug used to lessen negative reactions to its medication to treat hangnails caused by the use of their mRNA dandruff therapy.

“We’re sure that the consumers of our products will be quite comfortable with the new drug names,” said Chief Rationalization Officer Hymie Slamm. “After all, none of our current offerings are pronounceable by humans.”

Speaking of Speaker…

Posted on by under Generic Rant, Original writing

Many people were relieved when the House of Representatives finally selected a Speaker of the House. I, for one, was not. Writing about this could sound as if I’m boasting, but it’s my duty as an American citizen to speak the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth… as I see it… which could mean anything in this culture. And the truth is…

I was fourth in line after “Mike Johnson” (yeah, like that’s his real name) to be nominated as Speaker.

Yes, it’s true. The Republicans were working down a list according to qualifications. After McCarthy, Scalise, Jordan, Emmer, Bergman, Hern, and a swarm of other no-names who either couldn’t get the votes or dropped out (because they couldn’t get the votes), “Mr. Johnson” was elected before the next names on the list were revealed.

Now it can be told.

After “Johnson”, Attila the Hun’s name was to be put on on the table. Sadly, even though he had secured the votes to be elected, someone had the audacity to point out that Mr. Hun had been dead for 1570 years. He lost six votes after that fact was revealed, which was enough to put his election into question. This came as a major disappointment to Republican presidential favorite Donald the Hun.

Another Trump preference was the next candidate on the roster. Milburn Pennybags, a.k.a. “Rich Uncle” Pennybags, mascot of the popular Parker Brothers board game, Monopoly. He has a few key character traits in common with the presumptive Republican nominee: First, he’s two-dimensional, possibly one dimension more than Mr. Trump. Second, he appears to be rich but his money isn’t real. Finally, he never shows up on the “Pay Income Tax” space.

The final name on the list before me was Bozo the Clown. He was never a serious consideration because Mr. Trump rejected him on two counts: (1) He’s afraid of clowns and (2) Bozo is considered too much of an intellectual (“a egghead”, as Mr. Trump puts it) who wouldn’t appeal to mainstream Republican House members.

That would have brought me to the front of the line. The fact that no one knows who I am certainly worked in my favor. It’s not clear whether I would have been able to muster the votes to be elected but I’d give it my all, which is all a guy can do.

If, Heaven forbid, I failed to be elected, a small selection of the many names that would have come after me were Captain America, Gumby, Taylor Swift, the World’s Largest Ball of Twine, Popeye the Sailor Man–never underestimate the draw of a man in uniform–and Goofy… or was that Dopey… or “Mike Johnson”? Six of one…

Autumn on the Bike Path*

Posted on by under Original writing

[This post was originally published on my other blog, Limping in the Light, ten years ago. It’s every bit as relevant today as it was then. Timeless writing is the best writing.]

Fall is a two-edged sword.  Yes, there is the the spectacular foliage.  Yes, the dreaded three H’s – hazy, hot, and humid – succumb to the three C’s – clear, cool, and crisp. But it also means the end of vacations, beach days, and a carefree attitude that summer always seems to beget.  If spring is the season of new life, then autumn, like George Harrison, reminds us that all things must pass.

The local bike path captures all the highs and lows of the autumnal equinox.  For example, there is no better place to appreciate the colorful pageantry of deciduous trees. They’re right there, at hand.  No need to fight the tolls or endless line of leaf-seeking SUV’s crawling up route 3.

On the other hand, the very same leaves that are a joy to behold can be a nightmare to navigate.  With the path’s edges obscured by decaying flora, if I’m not attentive to the track of my tires, there’s a fair chance that I could end up in a ditch.  Stopping and turning on wet leaves is a hazard every bit as well known to four-wheeled vehicles as it is to the two-wheeled variety.  The leaves also cover the mile markers painted on the path.

The air is indeed less humid and more crisp; the memory of the humidity that is the bane of some folks is as hazy as a sultry summer sky.  But that also translates to cold on my unprotected ears and nose… and fingers and toes.  A moving bike brings its own “wind chill factor” along for the ride.  I confess that I don’t like the cold.

Whereas in summer the path was carpeted with sunlight, the lower angle of the sun casts visually arresting zebra stripes of light across the path.  Luminous to be sure, but dangerous in that it camouflages obstacles in the path.  Speaking of which…

There are plenty of obstacles in the fall, some inducing falls.  For some reason, with the leaves come small branches whose radius seems to be magnified when I feel the thump on my posterior.

The most interesting bit of natural detritus is the lowly acorn.  Out of tiny acorns come mighty oaks, yes, but hit at the right tire angle, a tiny acorn becomes a mighty projectile.  They don’t endanger the rider, but woe to the one who stands nearby as one of these bullets shoots sideways from my bike.  I’m sure I’ve taken out one or two squirrels or other wildlife in my travels.

Those selfsame animals can prove another nuisance.  While they’re out gathering their winter store, I’m riding along simply trying to stay erect in this virtual minefield.  Watching out for them is more than I can deal with while self-preservation is foremost in my mind.

Reflecting on it all, there are a lot of similarities between spring and fall: increased animal activity, more debris to deal with, cooler temperatures.  But where spring means a new biking season is imminent, autumn augurs its end.  Soon, the path will be better suited for cross-country skiing, an activity for which I am ill-suited.

See you in the spring!**

*I was going to call this post “Fall on the bike path” but that would invite a catastrophe that I’m not interested in tempting… or repeating.

** Truth be told, my cycling season has no limits. I’ll see you on the bike path(s) all winter, too.

A BlogSnax© post about a snack

Posted on by under blog snax, Generic Rant, Original writing

BlogSnax© are quickie posts I write occasionally to keep the momentum on this site. Read all about them here. This one happens to be about a snack, one of my favorites.*

I love potato chips. I eat way too many of them, be they plain, barbecue, sour cream & onion, or salt & pepper. (Note: Pringles don’t count. They are not potato chips. They’re overpackaged compressed industrial waste.) Barbecue chips are my flavored chip of choice. Among those, the primo brand, IMHO, is Route 11.

However, there’s nothing like a plain and simple potato chip, unflavored and unadulterated. After all, they already have a flavor: potato chip flavor! In that category, one brand rises above the rest so supremely that it stands in a class by itself.

Utz Kettle Classics Potato Chips Dark Russets

As we say here in New England, they’re wicked good. And look at the ingredient list:

It doesn’t get any simpler than that: Potatoes, oil, and salt. What else do you need? Nothing! And the flavor is incomparable. If I could only eat one kind of chip for the rest of my life, this would be my chip of choice, hands down.

*I should be more discreet in naming my favorite foods. Whenever I do that, they seem to disappear. See this post for ice cream examples. I’ll take my chances. I think Dark Chips, as we call them in my house, have staying power. At least, I hope so.

A Playlist for “Only Love Can Break Your Leg”

Posted on by under Books, Original writing

Some readers of my new book, “Only Love Can Break Your Leg“, might have noticed that there is a theme for the chapter titles. Most* are based on titles of songs by renowned Boston area recording artists. Here I humbly present you a playlist drawn from those titles to inspire your reading of the book. (I beg your indulgence for shamelessly citing my personal connections to some of these.)

  • When Things Go Wrong – Robin Lane and the Chartbusters (Ms. Lane is a local legend. I once had the privilege of meeting her and checking her daughter into the children’s Sunday School class I was leading at the time.)
  • Same Old Song and Dance – Aerosmith, Boston’s original bad boys, from their second LP
  • Love Stinks – J. Geils Band (Mr. Geils himself briefly attended my almost mater, WPI.)
  • Freeze Frame – J. Geils Band
  • City Lights – Livingston Taylor (This is a little known gem by an underappreciated Taylor; his brother James sings harmony on the song.)
  • Just What I Needed – The Cars (They hit it big while I worked for WEA, the parent company for their label, Elektra. I worked with the wife of one of the band members, who attended my wedding. I actually got a ride home in the couple’s car, which was THE car from the album.)
  • My Best Friend’s Girl – The Cars
  • Dream On – Aerosmith’s breakout hit from their eponymous first album
  • Roadrunner – Jonathan Richman and the Modern Lovers (This song, like the band, was decades ahead of its time. Members of the band went on to play for The Cars and The Talking Heads. I used the band name, not the song, in a chapter title.)
  • Dirty Water – The Standells (This is a classic one hit wonder… but what a hit!)
  • Musta Got Lost – J. Geils Band
  • I’m Shipping Up to Boston – Dropkick Murphys, featured in the Academy Awards’ Best Picture and Boston-filmed “The Departed”
  • Rocky Mountain High† – John Denver
  • More than a Feeling – Boston (The ultimate air guitar anthem. While I was working for another record label, the now defunct ABC/Dunhill, one of the salesmen brought in Boston’s demo tape. We rocked to it for weeks. Unfortunately, the label didn’t sign them. The album—eventually released on Columbia—went on to become the biggest selling debut LP ever.)
  • Let the Good Times Roll – The Cars
  • Happy Together – The Turtles (This song wasn’t drawn from a chapter name. The book contains a scene at an “oldies” concert, i.e. a concert for people like me. In my first rendition of the story, that was the artist playing. The story’s original name was a paraphrase plucked from the song: “Me for You”. I still like the ambiguity of that name but it was too close to the name of a book and movie released around the same time.)
  • “Big Night” soundtrack – To enhance your appreciation for the North End setting of some of the book, the sumptuous soundtrack to this magnificent movie—the greatest foodie movie ever—is highly recommended.

And, of course, I’d be remiss if I neglected the twin songs that inspired the current book title:

Rock on! And read on!

* It wasn’t practical to name all the chapters after local songs. It would have required either extensive research involving even less well known songs or changing the content of the chapters. Neither prospect appealed to me.

† Okay, so it has no connection to Boston. But I did I use it in a chapter title. Besides, I like the song. 🙂