Obama Proving That Black Lives Matter

Let's Nuke Nantucket

Bob and Melanie Sabelhaus created a bar in their Nantucket home that has a mahogany bar top, a Kohler trough sink and a Sub-Zero wine refrigerator with ice-maker. "Hard ice is very important," said Ms. Sabelhaus. (They have an equally luxurious bar in their Florida winter home.)

An article in today's Wall Street Journal about the decadent assholes who live, laugh, play and spend on Nantucket, that sybaritic island off the coast of Massachusetts populated by the filthy rich, is so nauseating it could be used as an effective kick-off tool in a weight-loss program. I only managed to skim it because my eyes filled with tears as I flashed on all the homeless people living on the streets across America, and the wannabe immigrants stuck in holding pens at our southern border, all lacking basics like food, water and shelter, not to mention flu shots.

In Nantucket, people living in 9,000 square-foot homes (they use in summer only!) keep busy trying to outdo one another by designing and installing luxurious, over-the-top indoor bars so they can hang out and get stinking drunk with their friends even if it's raining out. The cost of a wet bar ranges from $25,000 to $75,000, "but obviously the sky's the limit," said local architect Lisa Botticelli.

Obviously.

Hell Hath No Fury

It's up to each of us to turn that frown upside down.

Let's see, what matters more to me: Donald Trump's presidency and inevitable re-election or my bleeding hemorrhoids?  Obviously the latter, and by the way I spelled hemorrhoids correctly the first time and did not have to resort to using spell check, so good on me!

While I realize that hemorrhoids thing might be TMI, I have little pride remaining since it's proven to be pointless in the long run and feel it is my civic duty to tell young people, if there are any reading this, what it's like to live long enough to see your body become your major enemy as it falls apart, bit by maddening bit. But I won't because it's a bummer of a topic and hardly uplifting.

Instead I will pass along a quote from deep thinker C. S. Lewis that I read this morning and found particularly helpful in dealing with one's own problems, specifically in the areas of physical and emotional pain: “The gates of hell are locked from the inside.” That's pretty good news! I'm letting myself out. 

Jeffrey Epstein Stole My Childhood!

Owning up to one's mistakes is so out of fashion these days. Nobody does it. Instead, they blame someone else for their poor decisions resulting in miserable outcomes. The Democrats use Donald Trump for this. They should change his title to Scapegoat-in-Chief. To them, no matter what it is, Donald Trump is behind it.

Another popular scapegoat these days is Jeffrey Epstein. Despite his being dead, women are still crawling out from under rocks to blame him for things like their "lost dreams" and "stolen childhood." In fact, a whole group of them assembled for a hearing before a judge in Manhattan yesterday to detail how he had messed up their lives forever because when they were teenagers they were "tricked" into giving him massages, thinking that would lead to career advancement (as what -- masseuses?) and instead they had to perform sex acts on him. They stuck around for years because, as one woman said, they "didn't realize it was happening." (He must not have been very good.)

When I was 15 or 16, if some older lady had approached me and asked if I would go with her to a rich man's home to give him a massage I would have called the cops. But hey, that's just me. I also don't think Donald Trump is responsible for my problems; sadly, I have to admit I made every last one of them all by myself. In fact, I'm still looking for a scapegoat.

Biden's Broken Brain

While on a campaign stop in Keene, New Hampshire the other day, Joe Biden told the assembled crowd of supporters he was happy to be there. After all, he said, "What's not to love about Vermont? It's beautiful." This is just the latest in a never ending series of his almost daily mistakes his supporters lovingly term "gaffes."

Biden suffered two brain aneurysms back in the late 1980s, and today his doc says he's just fine. But earlier today I was listening to a political radio show, and a neurosurgeon called in and offered his assessment that "Joe's brain is toast." Currently he is the front-runner for the Democratic Party candidate in the 2020 election.

A Sense of Community

About two weeks ago I ordered a ready-made picture frame from a website called Blick Art Materials. Before you could say "Pablo Picasso" I started receiving emails from that site, hawking every kind of art supply imaginable, and all at great "insider" savings! And the reason I qualify for such great savings was explained in another email I received just moments ago thanking me for becoming part of their "community."

I had no idea I had joined their community so looked up the word as maybe I had it wrong. Turns out it refers to "a feeling of fellowship with others, as a result of sharing common attitudes, interests, and goals."

To date I have never met anyone who works at Blick Art Materials, or even anyone else who orders from their website, so I assume this particular community is fairly low-profile, certainly not one I can turn to or count on in any sort of emergency. Still, it's always nice to be included.

Rubbernecking, Gossipy, Self-centered Liars R Us

Although I try to hide it as best I can, regular readers of this blog know I am not a fan of people in general. The reason is that human beings possess and exhibit so many bad qualities and to such a nauseating degree. Consequently, dogs, cats, horses, iguanas, parakeets, parrots and even snakes have become the objects of our deepest affection. How else to explain that "man's best friend" is a dog? Have you ever wondered why man's best friend isn't another man? (It's because you can trust a dog.) A few examples of Man's Worst Qualities follow:

 Rubbernecking: Yesterday I sat for way too long on a hot highway, stuck in a traffic jam. Flashing lights ahead foretold of an accident, yet the road had already been cleared, the wreckage moved off to the shoulder, and all other cars parked on the median strip. It should have been smooth sailing right by the scene, but instead the cars crept by at a snail's pace so people could gawk at the ungodly mess.

Gossipy: Today our entire internet and news cycle is based on gossip. In fact, what passes for news is little more than gossip repeated ad nauseum, like the children's game of Telephone. Only in the adult version, the whisperers get paid big bucks to spread secrets they've heard from people who may or may not have the slightest idea what they're talking about.

Self-centered: I recently hosted a dinner at my home. Not one of the guests ever asked even one question of me or my husband, and instead talked only of themselves, their children and grandchildren. This behavior is so typical that I barely expect any different treatment from anyone.

Liars: Lying has become totally acceptable in our society. In several speeches, Senator Richard Blumenthal of Connecticut spoke often of his time as a soldier in Vietnam, only he never was in Vietnam and yet he keeps getting re-elected by his constituents. Brian Williams is a former NBC TV news anchor who years ago made up out of whole cloth seeing a dead body floating in the French Quarter of New Orleans after Hurricane Katrina. (The French Quarter did not even flood.) He also cited people jumping to their death inside the Superdome at the same time, only no dead bodies were ever found. He also lied to viewers about his helicopter being shot down in Iraq, concocting the story for the benefit of his career at the expense of the truth. After a year's hiatus, Williams returned and now delivers the "news" on MSNBC.

Dead Pets Society

Three days ago my friend Em died. She got the most out of each day, never complained and always had a smile on her face. She was also a trusted neighbor who ran around looking for a good time, a pat on the head and, with any luck, a tasty treat.

Everywhere she went she took a tennis ball with her, which she dropped at your feet and waited for you to throw. She'd chase it in a frenzy of excitement, then bring it back for you to throw it again. She wasn't crazy, she was a dog. A black Labrador to be exact. At the age of twelve and a half she simply gave out, following a long walk in the woods and a swim in a lake with her owner and best friend.

Em was buried next to our neighborhood pond. Nearby were other graves of neighborhood dogs who had cheered us with their antics and boundless energy, and then gone. Em's funeral was attended by about 30 mourners. All members of the dead pets society, we shared stories of some of the other dogs we had loved and painfully lost.

It's been raining hard today and I'm sad to think that Em is out there, deep under the grass and dirt getting pounded by the elements and not snuggling inside in her cozy bed. But that's what happens to all of them when we live long enough to love them and then let them go.

Thoughtless People

I've had a particularly bad week when it comes to people being thoughtless and to be perfectly frank, I'm tired of it. I may have to call for a Loners Anonymous meeting soon. Of course thoughtlessness is a constant in our society, or culture or whatever you call it. I call it a conglomeration.

The epitome came last night. I had been told a day earlier by my husband that our nephew, in town for a brief visit, would be coming for dinner because he "really wanted to see me." The fact that he had been around for several days and made no attempt at any contact rolled off my back. After all, he's only 24, so one can expect very little. Anyway, to make him feel welcome I made sure to have plenty of his favorite foods on hand since he's got a healthy appetite. This entailed an otherwise unnecessary trip to the grocery store, which is low on my list of fun things to do. But hey -- family matters, right?

Dinnertime arrived and the other guests, also visiting relatives with the same last name, were getting hungry. So I called my nephew to check on his ETA and he said he was just sitting down to dinner elsewhere, oh gee, sorry, maybe I can stop by later since I'm leaving town tomorrow.

What Would Buddha Do?

For several years now I have found solace in the talks of a spiritual teacher named Tara Brach. While her podcasts mostly just regurgitate what she has heard or read over her years in the business, still she knows a lot more than I do on the subject and thus has been a boon to me in desperate times, like when my blood pressure soars to 210/120. The only area where she disappoints is her inability to hide her political leanings.

More than a leaning, let's just say Tara is a rabid Democrat who wears her heart on her sleeve, which is a bit of a turnoff if you don't share her feelings. Sometimes it's like listening to Rachel Maddow spout "wisdom" on how to live, and let's face it, that's a stretch.

Apparently all us "deplorables" who did not vote for Hillary Clinton, who don't view the president as a racist, who do not want open borders and instead favor a lawful path to immigration, who oppose free college for all and who find Elizabeth Warren a bitter pill to swallow are undeserving of enlightenment and certainly would never be seeking it. How else to explain Tara's smug assurance that all her listeners are of one mind?

So for the second time in the last two years, I wrote to Tara at her website and very cordially and wholly without malice expressed my sincere desire that she keep her mindfulness lessons and meditations free from the poison that is politics. She never answered me the first time and I'm not holding my breath now, but it would be nice to get a response. I mean, what would the Buddha do?

News Nobody Needs But Gets Anyway

As a student of popular culture I am always interested to see just how low that simmering, cesspool of meaningless information commonly known as "the Internet" can sink. And guess what? This morning I found out! The following headline appears on a website that purports to keep its readers informed of important trends and breaking news: "Kelly Ripa Reveals Her Daughter Secretly Had Her Prom Dress Neckline Lowered."

After reading that I didn't know what to do. Life seemed different somehow.

Bill Clinton and the Blue Dress

 The FBI confiscated this painting hanging in the home of deceased billionaire Jeffrey Epstein.

That Frozen Smile

I am the first one to admit that I have a flawed personality. Okay, maybe I'm the second one since it's pretty much my son's favorite topic. Anyway, surely my biggest flaw is that I am unable to hide my feelings. I'm like Jim Carrey in Liar, Liar: I can't lie. Unless of course you mean nothing to me, and then I can lie like there's no tomorrow, dropping pearls like "I have a dentist appointment" or "I'm out of town that weekend" or "My book club meets that night" or "I'll get back to you" or "I'm on a deadline," or whatever the situation demands. I mean really, who doesn't do that?

But if you are woven into the fabric of my life, through no fault of my own but that's the way things have turned out, like if you're a relative by marriage or my husband's boss or my son's girlfriend and I am required to put up a false front and attend an event not of my choosing, I paste on one of those frozen smiles that fail to convince. (That being said, I have only good feelings for my son's current girlfriend, who is beautiful, smart and endearing. As for the rest, don't get me started.)

And BTW, I am not in a book club, never would be in a book club, and think book clubs are stupid and the exact opposite of why people read. Plus, all the people I know who are in book clubs never even read the books, they just go there to gab and eat and drink wine and be able to say they are in a book club, except for my friend Deneb who is exceptional in all ways.

Dems Say the Darndest Things

  Justine Damond, unarmed, was fatally shot by a black Minneapolis police officer in 2017.

Talking about politics with someone from the other side is liking walking through a minefield. Actually, it's worse; it's like walking on a tightrope suspended over a minefield. And the tightrope is made out of poisonous snakes tied end-to-end. Yeah, that's about right.

Last night over dinner at a Mexican restaurant, I foolishly engaged in such a perilous activity with a friend whose views differ from mine. I regretted it instantly. The subject was gun control, and while we both are in complete agreement on what should be done -- actually, who isn't? -- nevertheless she managed to throw boiling water onto our commonality, burning me while simultaneously dousing the conversation.

I had pointed out that even if gun sales were strictly monitored, there are so many of them out there already (a 2018 Small Arms Survey estimates American civilians own 393 million guns both legally and otherwise, out of a worldwide total of 857 million firearms) that anyone intent on creating havoc could easily acquire one, or many. I cited Baltimore, our nation's newest murder capitol with 342 homicides last year, and Chicago, with 561 last year, 660 the year before and more than 770 in 2016. Her response stunned me: "Well that's because the Chicago police are out running around killing all the black people."

There is simply no arguing with this twisted non-logic. I just took another swig of my Rioja and kept on eating.

In Comparison

People are such gossips. What they like to do most is talk about other people, especially what's wrong with other people, how bad other people are and what unspeakable and terrible things they have done. The worse things they hear about someone else the happier they are, since that makes them feel better about themselves in comparison. Even worse, this claptrap passes as "news" both online and on TV, where news anchors pass along gossip, verified by the words "according to people familiar with the situation.".

The latest "hot news" concerns someone named Jeffrey Epstein, who did very bad things in his lifetime but  is dead now and who I never heard of even once when he was alive. The fact that he posed for pictures at fancy parties with famous rich people like Donald Trump, Bill Clinton and Woody Allen is making all those wagging tongues wag even harder.

Imagine what a great world this would be if our minds were not filled with stories about bad people but instead good people. Maybe we would all behave better -- you know, because of that comparison thing. Who knows, we might even solve a few of our own problems.

Chris Cuomo is So Fredo!

Fredo's last fishing trip. (The Godfather Part II)

Television personality Chris Cuomo is so out of touch that he thinks being called "Fredo" is a slur against Italians. The CNN host got into a shouting match caught on videotape with someone who hurled the name at him, assuming it was a racist jab. But it's not; it simply means that he's the dumb brother, in this case to Governor Andrew Cuomo, just like Fredo was the dimmest Corleone as compared with Sonny and Michael in The Godfather, Part II. His ethnicity has nothing to do with it!

Chris should just shut up and be glad nobody invites him out for a boat ride.

I'm Not Kidding

Sadly, it's all over for billionaire sex-offender Jeffrey Epstein. Just seven weeks ago he was cavorting (and God knows what else) on his private island in the Caribbean and today he is lying naked on a cold slab in the city morgue getting diced up in an autopsy. Not really; they performed it several days ago and so today he is either burned to a crisp or buried, or whatever happens to a dead pedophile lacking friends or family.😢

Despite all the good times, life can be harsh. The end comes suddenly for some. For others, like cancer-ridden Valerie Harper who played the lovable Rhoda on TV for eight years back in the '70s, it can drag on seemingly endlessly. After outliving a death prediction from her doctors by several years Harper is now in her end days, according to various reputable news reports.

Obviously if you are reading this you are still alive. So stop messing with your phone or computer, go take a shower and do something fun. Or productive or at the very least personally rewarding in some small way. Polishing the silver counts. After all, you just never know.

REVIEW: Once Upon A Time in Hollywood

DiCaprio and Pitt do a whole lot of acting, talking and smoking.

For all but the most squeamish, Once Upon A Time in Hollywood is a great way to spend two hours and 39 minutes. One reason is a grand performance by Leonardo DiCaprio, an actor who's been blowing our minds since his 1993 portrayal of a mentally challenged teen in What's Eating Gilbert Grape, for which he received his first Academy Award nomination. Surely he will get another one for this, along with director Quentin Tarantino.

If you're looking for the plot, it's out there. Every professional film critic reveals it in stunning detail, which to my mind is not the purpose of a review. Rather, I'm interested in learning what's good or bad about a film: Are the acting, directing, musical score and cinematography worth my time and money? In this instance the answer is yes, yes, yes and yes.

At first the story comes off as a goofy hodgepodge of Hollywood in the 1960s, and as anyone who lived through that era will attest, it's a perfect capture of the sights, sounds and especially cars of that crazy time. Also, there's a whole lot of cigarette smoking going on. But hang on; since this is Tarantino there's a healthy dose of blood and gore, although it's mostly limited to the last 20 minutes during a loose retelling of the horrific crime committed by members of the Manson Family.

It's a comedy nevertheless, and DiCaprio more than delivers as an actor past his prime struggling to hold on to a few rays of the limelight. Sharing the lead is Brad Pitt. Playing his usual handsome, smirking self as DiCaprio's stunt double and sidekick, he naturally finds an opportunity to take his shirt off and display his amazing pecs. Margot Robbie as doomed starlet Sharon Tate is featured, and memorable cameos by a pudgy Al Pacino and and a wizened Bruce Dern add to the mayhem.

Food, Glorious Food

No doubt about it, food is everyone's favorite topic -- after how much they hate Donald Trump or how much they hate the people who like Donald Trump. This is proven anew every time I write a post concerning cookies, candy, cakes, pies, ice cream, chips or junk food in general, like the one about  which is the best movie candy or who makes the best pizza. It's crazy, and it's been going on since the Dawn of Man.

The last food-related post in this space just a few days ago was about french fries, and the readership stats went through the roof, unlike those about death or dying or God or spirituality or disease, at which point they plummet precariously near that number which would tell me to stop writing this blog altogether.

A question to consider: Are we all so empty inside that the only thing that can fill us is eating well beyond what we need for nourishment? And here's another: What's your favorite sinful food? It's hard to choose since there are so many, but if I could only have one thing that was really, really bad for me without suffering the consequences, it would have to be one of these:

Corned beef on rye from Katz's delicatessen in NYC, with plenty of mustard and a pickle on the side.

Democrats Pulling the Trigger Card

The human race is declining at a rapid pace. Not only is it getting fatter, sicker and dumber, it's getting sillier. Perhaps, like me, you recently caught a glimpse of a video on the TV news or online of the meeting of the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) who convened last weekend in Atlanta, Georgia. What I saw looked a lot more like a skit on Saturday Night Live than an authentic political assembly.

So much quieter than clapping!

For starters, no clapping was allowed because that was too "triggering" for some of the more anxious attendees, which seemed to be all of them. So instead of clapping, audience members showed their  approval with "jazz hands" waving in the air. Ha! Also outlawed as "too triggering" was any "gender-related" speech; no hes or shes allowed, everyone was simply called "comrades." Similarly, strong scents were strictly prohibited as they were deemed too aggressive for the more delicate comrades. Compared to this group of loonies, Donald Trump's orange hair seems downright conventional.

The DSA stands behind Bernie Sanders and voted not to endorse any other candidate, should Sanders not win the nomination. We can only hope he doesn't because the thought of any of those people voting for our next president is even scarier than our current president getting re-elected.

French Fries

7,281.

That's how many people responded to a survey question floating around Facebook asking whose fries are the best, followed by several choices including Wendy's, McDonald's, Five Guys and more like that. And the answers were still streaming in.

That number represents a whole lot of people engaging in a debate over French fries, while half the world is starving and the other half is rife with flame-throwing protesters taking to the streets and ruthless governments cheating their own people.

I was almost drawn in until I realized the senselessness of such a debate and stopped myself. I mean, really, does anyone not know that Nathan's French fries outshine them all?

Film Review: WEINER

Weiner and Abedin face the hungry press.

Weiner, as in Anthony Weiner, the disgraced seven-term Congressman (D., NY) who texted photos of his crotch, both covered and uncovered and most definitely erect, is a hoot. A documentary that closely follows the candidate in 2013 as he makes a run for Mayor of New York City (he lost to Bill DeBlasio), it gives a very inside look at the special sort of craziness required to run for political office and text photos of your penis to underage girls at the same time. And that's a whole lot of crazy.

Craziness aside, Weiner comes off as a really likeable guy -- charismatic, passionate and very smart. You like him despite the fact that what he did was icky and illegal and hurtful to his wife and child. And by the way, his wife at the time was Huma Abedin, Hillary Clinton's right hand and closest confidante in the years leading up to her 2016 presidential campaign. Naturally the press was all over the couple all the time; this was a BIG story!

Real-time footage shows the Mr. and Mrs. relaxing at home with their toddler and out on the campaign trail, fielding questions from the frenzied media seeking details about why he did it, who he did it with, and how could Huma stay married to him. It's a real-life soap opera told in a snappy cinematic style. While things ended badly for all concerned, this 90-minute film turned out great, winning a 2016 Critics' Choice Award for Best First Documentary. Perfect Friday night fare, make up a big bowl of popcorn, grab a beer and watch it on your TV. (It's on YouTube.)

Ending Mass Violence, Hollywood Style

Some sound advice from Ms. Witherspoon!

That perky, pretty, downright adorable movie star, Reese Witherspoon, took to Twitter about the recent mass shootings in Dayton and El Paso: "This senseless loss of life is unbearable. When will our US representatives give the people of this country the common sense gun laws we are all demanding? I’m calling my congressman. Again."

Here's what Bette Midler, a retired superstar withering in the twilight of her career, tweeted: "I am so sorry for El Paso and sorry for my nation which lacks the backbone to rid itself of this cancer once and for all." Meanwhile, the fabulous Cher found time between plastic surgery appointments to shout out: "MASS SHOOTINGS ARE RISING EXPONENTIALLY. HATE IS INCREASING,WE MUST FIND ANOTHER WAY."

Singer John Legend (at least I think he's a singer but I know he's a celebrity) called our president "a racist prick who regularly inspires killers with his racist venom.”

Summing up, according to these four very rich entertainers the solution lies with A) calling our congressmen, B) finding some backbone, C) ending hatred and D) calling Trump bad names. Of those I choose C; how about you?