From a piece published in PLAYBILL magazine.

PlayBill – Casey Stengel








A current story making the TV rounds is the upcoming premiere of “Friday Night Tykes,” a reality show that’s basically a boot camp for young Texas wannabe football players. The kids are as young as five or six and they’re put through grueling exercises that seem beyond their capabilities. Some cry, some crawl to the goal of a particular exercise under the urgency of a coach (think Marine drill sergeant) screaming at him.

TV pundits and talk shows are up in arms about the show. Many excoriate the show and the coaches for child abuse. (Incidentally, parents there are all for it.) Others say that the regimen instills in the kids a needed sense of accomplishment through ordeal, a growth in their journey to manhood.

In relation to this, I offer a piece about “masculinity” I wrote on this blogue back in 2009. It takes no sides, but it offers an understanding from my POV of how gender differences have been morphing over the past five or ten years.  I think  the morphing has reached a new level.

The Pettiness Of Democrats

It’s being reported that Senate Democrats will block a resolution to honor Margaret Thatcher.

If so, I’m asking whether there is a limit to their pettiness.  What a churlish, smug, unfeeling bunch they are.  They are so bewitched by their cultish agenda that they have no room in their shriveled souls for decency.  They have lost whatever capacity they may have had for humanity.

When talking about these hypocritical, soulless, agenda zombies I’m reminded of a young lady I dated when I was a young man living and working in New York.  She lived on the Upper West Side, which is a coven of liberalism.  Her mother went marching for Chavez on a couple of times I visited them.  She was ardent, almost hysterical in her support of Chavez.  She refused to buy grapes … even grape jelly.  What a committed heroine to the cause she was.

And yet, I many times witnessed her treating her Hispanic maid like shit, with no courtesy, kindness or consideration.  She used her authority like a cudgel, insisting she work extra hours when she had a whim to include a never-before-mandated chore, preventing her from going home to prepare a meal for her family.  She humiliated her in in my presence a number of times and then headed out for her cause, her love of Chavez and her hatred for grapes.

This is how I view todays Democrats, or liberals or progressives or whatever they call themselves — anything but Socialists or Marxists.

They are totalitarians, brooking nothing they disapprove of.

As Denis Prager said, ‘The right thinks the left is wrong, very wrong.  The left thinks the right is evil.’




St. Barack Of Ward 42

In a stunning announcement, Pope Francis has declared that he will make Barack Obama a saint, glorifying this clean, articulate young President as the Church’s two thousandth six hundred and forty-first saint and the only one sanctified while still alive.

His official canonical designation will be St. Barack Of Ward 42. The Vatican’s holy people are consulting with the President’s holy people to determine what he’ll be saint of. Current speculation is that he will be named the Patron Saint of Celebrities.

Pope Francis first learned about Obama’s saintly qualities some years ago when rumors of his miraculous effect on people began to emerge after his trip to Europe.

“These were indeed wondrous stories of transformations,” said Vatican spokesman, Cardinal Annuncio Proclamma. “People in his presence came away in ecstasy, their minds clouded with ardor and blankness.” He added, “few people have the holiness to cloud men’s minds. Only The Shadow did that.”

Others were so frenzied they endlessly repeated the name Obama, often speaking it in tongues — Obama, Ojamba, Jamabun, Mabamba, Balloona, Ombajaba, Pahjamah, Behnihanah, Cinnabonna, Kakadoodie, Bubonah, Kokomomah, Peckinpaba, Cahwahbonga and Jub.  It was wondrous to hear the babble of his followers.

Soon after the initial reports of Obama’s fervent hold on the blank minded, stories of individual miracles began to emerge. Gunnar Schmidt of Munich said that after Obama walked past Schmidt’s Mercedes, the car started getting sixty-three miles to the litre — in city traffic. A woman who requested anonymity claimed that after fifteen years of being unable to bear children, she now likes them a lot.  She plans to open a day care center in her village.

What Do Brian Wilson & Benamino Gigli Have In Common?


November 17, 2008

This past weekend, I drove my nineteen year old son, Mario, and his friend, Brian,  from Durham, NC to Glenside, PA. to see Brian Wilson in concert at the Keswick Theater. My son has had a passion for the Beach Boys and Brian Wilson for years, the kind of passion I felt at his age for an opera singer named Mario Del Monaco, after whom my son is named, incidentally.

Wilson’s new album is Lucky Old Sun, and while I didn’t attend the concert, I have heard the album. How could I not? Mario plays it constantly. And in my own geezer fashion, I was drawn to it because Lucky Old Sun was one of my favorite Frankie Laine recordings way back when.

While I don’t have the emotional and musical connections to Wilson and the Beach Boys that my son and other fans have, even I can hear that this album is special, extraordinary – maybe not Smile, but damned good.

Which is what brought me to the minor incident that inspired this little post.

After dropping them off at the theater, I had a brief dinner with a student of mine who happened to live nearby.  I then showed up at the Keswick Theater about a half hour before the concert ended and decided to wait for Mario and his friend at a small micro-brewery pub across the street. As I walked past the theater I heard some very loud guy, age maybe forty-five or fifty, shout to someone, “They’ll do four encores after they finish that piece of s**t new album.”

Well, Lucky Old Sun might not be Smile or Pet Sounds, but a piece of that stuff, it ain’t.

The Soldier

Came across this.  Appropriate for Veterans Day.


It is the Soldier, not the minister, who has given us freedom of religion.
It is the Soldier, not the reporter, who has given us freedom of the press.
It is the Soldier, not the poet, who has given us freedom of speech.
It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer, who has given us freedom to protest.
It is the Soldier, not the lawyer, who has given us the right to a fair trial.
It is the Soldier, not the politician, who has given us the right to vote.
It is the Soldier who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.


HATE, HATE, HATE. Oh, and did I mention “Hate?”

Liberals, or progressives, or whatever they’re calling themselves these days,  like to think of themselves as caring, well intentioned people who are champions of  the middle class and poor.  Structurally, liberalism is supposed to be tolerant and understanding and certainly  not destructive.  That’s what the right does, right?  People on the right are the ones who do the really hateful things.

The left has a long and hallowed history of despicable behavior.  As a lifelong Democratic liberal, I protested against the war.   I wrote some satirical anti-Vietnam pieces when I was a contributing editor at National Lampoon.   And I was shocked when I saw so-called liberals mock, criticize and even spit on returning military personnel.   These were not isolated incidents.  It happened across the country as rabid anti-war liberals took out their legitimate frustrations on the poor guys WHO WERE DRAFTED and thrown into the swamp of the Vietnam War.

And now we have a later version of liberal behavior from the philosophy of tolerance and understanding.

Google “Defacing Romney signs” and see what comes up.

Yep!   Romney signs stolen, smeared with dogshit, and replaced.   Other signs peed upon.  A brick through a GOP storefront headquarters.  Much of it in Virginia, some stories about it in toney Malibu.  Not once, twice, but many times.  The perpetrators are even bragging on Twitter about doing it.  I’ve seen it here in Chapel Hill, an enclave of well-to-do liberals who’ve been Kool Aided all their lives to these causes.  I’ve seen it when I dated a lady who lived on New York’s upper West Side whose mother marched for Cesar Chavez and his grapes but treated her Spanish maid like shit.


Joe Biden, the man we’re burdened with as vice president just admitted that he and Obama plan to tax the rich for one trillion dollars.  We’ve heard their litany for years now.

  • Tax the rich
  • The rich should pay their fair share
  • If the rich paid their fair share we could lower our debt
  • If the rich paid their fair share, we could reduce the deficit

As far as we know, Obama’s budget is projected to be three point eight trillion, a budget the entire Congress rejected, including all Democrats.    And let’s remember, that Obama had the house and senate for two years and did nothing.  No budget was ever presented or passed.

So much for taking care of business.  Oops!  Just slipped our minds.  This little truth is like that item you stick in a drawer for safe keeping and forget it’s there.   But that’s another story of administration incompetence.

So, let’s start solving our debt and deficit by taxing that disgustingly rich 1% to pay their fair share, — whatever that is. But why stop at one percent? Let’s take the top eleven percent. And let’s not tax them. Let’s CONFISCATE their income for a year and give it to the government. According to Obama, that would make a big difference.

A chart  made by Emmanuel Saez of Berkeley was published some months ago in the NY Times.  It shows where the hated 1% fit in the hierarchy of income as of 2008. I’m going beyond the 1$, let’s take the top 5%.  Full disclosure, it was taken from 2008 figures.  I suspect we’re not that far off and, in fact, given the lousy economy the figures might be even lower.  Nevertheless:
  • The first column below indicates the number of families in that row.


The PEOPLE are the flag. Not one man. Especially not that man.