Friday, July 28, 2017

The Last Milestone

This past spring Brandon Block graduated college, having broadened and enhanced his interests in film making and journalism.

Quite a milestone in the life of any young man.

That young man in this instance is me.

It’s a milestone for me because it’s probably the last milestone in Brandon's life that I'll be sharing directly with him. Future milestones like promotions, awards, or starring in the road company version of Hamilton will be more diffuse and remote because they won’t be happening under my watch, under my roof, or under the Tuscan sun.

About the only closely shared milestone ahead is the one that happens when I breathe my last.  And that’s one about which I’m not about to spring for a celebratory dinner.

I put in a call to Brandon.

“How are things going?  Have any major achievements lately?”

“Well … I graduated from college.  I think you were there.”

"Say, have you made any feature films lately? Any Oscar buzz?  Maybe I ought to give out the award to you since John Travolta will probably butcher your name!”

"I'd hold up on renting a tuxedo. But I did make a five minute movie about trash. Hasn't opened yet in selected cities."

“Brandon, have you had any big promotions yet writing for the alternative newspaper in Baltimore? They haven't given you the key to the executive washroom, have they?"

"Dad, that only happens in movies from the 40’s. And I’ve only been working at this job for a couple of weeks."

"How about political activism? Stopped any pipelines lately? Found anybody to run against Trump?"

"Dad, what is this all about?" 

"I just don’t want to miss any milestones in your life, Brandon."

"Why would you?"  

“Since you won't be living at home or school any more. I'm worried I'll miss stuff.”

"Well, Dad, things may be a bit different than when I lived home, but you'll always be my dad and I'll always keep you posted."

"You promise?"

"You’ll be the first to know!  Or no worse than the 18th.”

“I guess that’s okay then."

"I have to go now, Dad, I've got a meeting."

"Sure. Who with?"

"The Rabbi. I'm getting married."

"You're what?!!

"I'm kidding, Dad."

"I knew that." 

“Good night, Dad.”

“See you soon, Bran.”


Wednesday, July 26, 2017


If the Democratic Party and what’s left among the smoking ruins of the Republican Party want to one day pass bipartisan legislation that would truly benefit the nation at large I heartily recommend:


otherwise known as The Coinage Obviously Irrelevant, Nada, So Long, Sayonara, Unnecessary, Ciao, and Kiss Off Act.

Under this act, all American coinage including pennies, nickels, dimes, and quarters will be eliminated and all transactions will be conducted only in dollars rounded accordingly up or down.

Why not? Who needs coins anyway?

They don’t purchase anything anymore, clutter our pockets and bureaus, and accomplish little more than commemorate four great American presidents who already get plenty of positive press as it is.

Consider the usage and convenience of coins in a typical purchase in a typical variety store like Philadelphia’s Wawa.

“That’ll be $4.87, sir,” says the person behind the counter.

“Gee, I think I have a lot of change to get rid of,” you say, somewhat embarrassed you’re not just handing the guy five nice convenient dollars. “Lemme see if can scare up the 87 cents.”

You begin digging through your right hand pocket but are immediately thwarted by your cell phone.  So you weave your hand around your phone to get to the monetary bounty below and practically cut yourself on your jingle jangle of keys. 

Why do you have 12 keys on the chain, including the key to your sophomore apartment from 40 years ago? It doesn’t even bring back good memories since not only didn’t you ever get laid there you didn’t even have a TV to watch The Mod Squad!

Continuing the journey to the center of your pocket, you encounter a comb, used handkerchief, a couple of random receipts, a slinky, and a full-sized anvil from the Acme Company left over from a Warner Brothers cartoon. Now on to the change at last.


All your change is in your other pocket.

You reach into your left pocket and pull out enough coin of the realm to finance the realm. While parsing through it all you drop a coin on the floor, and it's time for cost benefit analysis.

If the coin is a lowly penny, retrieval doesn’t warrant the slightest bend at the knee. If it's a quarter, though, groveling upon the floor like a four legged farm animal might be well in order.

But what if you don’t know what the coin is?

Time to rout around on a floor so filthy you’re likely to contract a disease that's so insanely virulent it's the basis of a drug commercial in which even the actor who doesn’t really have it looks like shit. 

You find the coin.

It is a penny.

And you’ve split the seam in your pants.

So, folks, once we have a real government again, remember to write to your Congressperson or Senator and tell them to vote for:


Woo them with significant contributions to their re-election campaigns.  And don't forget to make your contribution in nickels, dimes, quarters, and especially pennies.


Now this kind of money we can keep!

Sunday, July 23, 2017

Identical Douchebags

 Scaramucci and Trump couldn't be more alike
 if Trump had cloned him.

(inspired by "Identical Cousins" from "The Patty Duke Show")

Meet Donald who’s lied about everything,
From Russian meddling to the size of his ding!
But Tony’s gonna raise the sights,
Their lies will reach Himalayan heights! 

Two crazies from the right wing!

But they’re douchebags!
Identical douchebags all the way.
One pair of matching assholes,
Though Tony's a generation away.

Where Donald adores stiffing friends,
Tweeting lies and grabbing women’s ends,
Our Tony loves to kiss his ass,
His hot dog too if that’s not too crass!
What a pair of bookends!

Still they’re douchebags!
Identical douchebags, and you’ll find
They lie alike, decry alike, betray us high and dry alike,
You could lose your mind! (which they want)
When douchebags
Are two of a kind!

 ... or so it seems to me.

Thank you, Patty Duke.

Friday, July 21, 2017

I Reintroduce The Mantra of the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute

When I was younger, I thought people in their 60’s were totally cool with the concept of getting older. I always used to think that people who were 66 years old were perfectly happy to be 66 years old.  

They were into being 66 years old.

They were good at being 66 years old.

They felt they'd finally achieved the age they were always supposed to be. When they'd be shaving in the morning and looked in the mirror and saw Larry King on his worst day, they'd point at what looked like Larry King on his worst day, give a wry smile, and make that satisfied click-click sound people make with their tongues at the side of the mouth when they’re pleased with themselves and pleased with the world.

"Yep," they'd say "that's me!  I sure do look my age, which is great!  I'm worn out, wrinkled, bald, and with absolutely no chance of attracting anything less than the scurviest of women on the planet!  

It's all as it should be."

Then they'd go out of the bathroom into the bedroom and masturbate to Judi Dench.

But none of that is true!  Inside we all remain 40 forever.

Ever see a very old couple ---say 80-90 years old --- sitting together at dinner at a restaurant? You probably think "my, that's cute!"  

Trust me, it's not cute!

The old boy is thinking "who the hell is this prune Danish I'm sitting next to? And why isn't the hot young waitress groping me under the table every time she brings the cheese rolls?"

Why's he think this way?  Because inside he's 40.  Just like all the rest of us. 

And the wife? 

She wants to fuck George Clooney.

I realize I am way closer to being 80 years old than I am to being 40. 


It is meant for those for who feel the road ahead is suddenly all in the rear view mirror, who have reached the age they always thought was exclusively reserved for people’s parents, and who are fully eligible for the Senior Special at IHOP, but frankly I’d stick with the pancakes.

Chant it, meditate upon it, burn incense in its honor, but for god’s sake, don’t burn the blog down, the insurance has lapsed!  

We can talk later about royalties.

Mantra of the  
Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute

We are the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute!
Incipient Baby Boomer Geezers.

Inside we are 40!  No, not 60 or more!
Our enemies: the mirror, the camera, your 'who gives a fuck's' galore!
We like to think we’re cool, we’d like to think we rock,
But demographically we’re poison, just pigeon-feeder stock!
We are the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute!
Incipient Baby Boomer Geezers.
Today we sprout hair in all the wrong places,
But where we so want it, only wide open spaces!
Once we trusted no one over 30, it’s true,
Today we know no one under, no gentile, no Jew!

We are the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute!
Incipient Baby Boomer Geezers.

A bit of the bubbly means Alka-Seltzer,
Hard drugs --- Viagra, whadya expect, sir?
Once cuddly and cute, hip, happening, and cool,
now avuncular, respected, well-furrowed, mature.

We are the Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute!
Incipient Baby Boomer Geezers.

We are Generation Ex-Lax, not X.
We are Generation Why? not Y.
Hug one of us today!
Preferably me.


Wednesday, July 19, 2017

Namaste, Dudes II!

Ain't Yoga Grand?

Namaste, dudes!

I've been practicing yoga for about a year now which means in yoga parlance I've being going to my mat for about a year.

I'm taking yoga in an attempt to stem the tide of scoliosis which has rendered my spine so curvy it looks like the piping under your kitchen sink. All that's missing is a garbage disposal.

What do I do when I go to my mat besides chant Ommmm?  

Here's three poses I'll pose foryou:

Child's Pose - One look at this pose and you know it was developed at a time when not only were children supposed to be seen but not heard, they were also expected to get dinner by licking up crumbs in the carpet fibers. Provides a nice stretch though.
Downward Facing Dog - With your butt high aloft in the shape of a "V," you emulate a position dogs often assume. If your dog tends to emulate you, assume you'll have puppies 3-5 times per year.

Warrior I and II- Powerful  and dynamic, this pose is labeled I or II depending upon whether the left or right side leads. But I don't know about a pose called "Warrior" for a Jewish guy from the suburbs. Maybe call them Attorney I and II?

Although yoga may or may not ultimately address the deconstruction of my spine, I do often feel like I stand up straighter and more confidently after going to the mat than before.

 One day leaving yoga I was feeling as erect as any man since HomoErectus first stood erect, so I stopped into a neighboring watering hole. There I spied an attractive woman in my general demographic, meaning a woman on the far side of 50 and the low side of Cloris Leachman. 

Having just been to my mat, I decided to go to the mat.
“Hi, okay to sit here?'" I asked. "My name is Perry."
"Sure, I'm Cheryl, nice to meet you," she replied brightly.
And it seemed then that the combined and collected wisdom and enlightenment of the mystical East were gently whispering into my ear:
“You may have a shot here, Perry.  Don’t blow it!”
"Do you know, Perry, that you have nice blue eyes," said Cheryl.
 Hmm. Must be the Warrior I. Or the Warrior II.

"Know what else?  Nice long eyelashes."
Then wait ‘til you see my Downward Facing Dog!  

"You do seem like a nice guy." 
Okay, Perry, let’s go to the mat about going to my mat!

"Too bad you’ve got the worst posture I’ve seen since Quasimodo! Maybe you should try Pilates?”
Ommmmmmmm … Shit! 
"Bye now, Perry.  Hope you can take care of your problem.”
 I guess I'll go too.

Go home, go to my mat, and practice Attorney 1 and 2.

Namaste, dudes!


Monday, July 17, 2017

There's a Meeting Here Tonight

I've been doing this too damn long!


And we have Breaking News!  We welcome our viewers in the United States and around the world, you're in the Situation Room!  

At this point I would normally mention my name "Wolf Blitzer" but I've been informed by Jeff Zucker that if I'm going to be kept on at CNN despite my advanced age I've got to comply with the youth demographic and begin calling myself "Cub Blitzer."

So, this is Cub Blitzer with Breaking News!

We have been reporting lately on a meeting held at Trump Tower on June 9th between four people - Donald Trump Jr., Jared Kushner, Paul Manafort, and Russian attorney Natalia Veselnitskaya, who promised information from the Russian government harmful to Hillary Clinton.  

We subsequently learned that there were at least eight people in the meeting on June 9th at Trump Tower.  In addition to Trump Jr., Kushner, Manafort, and Veselnitskaya, also in attendance were publicist Rob Goldstone, lobbyist Rinat Akhmetshin, a unnamed representative of the Russian family sponsoring the meeting, and a translator.

Now a reliable source close to CNN has reported that there were even more people in attendance at the meeting!

We have now learned that there were at least ten people in the meeting on June 9th at Trump Towers.  In addition to Trump Jr., Kushner, Manafort, Veselnitskaya, Akhmetshin, Goldstone, the family representative, and the translator, also in attendance were two members of the Bolshoi Ballet, Katerina Legsamovich and Boris Protrudickski.

It is not known if Legsamovich and Protrudickski danced at the meeting, but CNN has learned that they both looked quite fetching in their tight ballet pants.


This is Cub Blitzer with More Breaking News!

We have now learned that there were at least 13 people and one animal in the meeting on June 9th in Trump Towers!  In addition to Trump Jr., Kushner, Manafort, Veselnitskaya, Akhmetshin, Goldstone, the family representative, the translator, Legsamovich, and Protrudickski, also in attendance were three clowns from the Moscow Circus (Rudolph Krupskaya, Antonin Chekinski, and Sparkles) and Ivan the Dancing Bear, also from the Moscow Circus.  

It is not known if the Ivan the Dancing Bear danced at the meeting, but CNN has learned that he looked quite fetching in his tight ballet pants.


This is Cub Blitzer with Even More Breaking News!

We have now learned that there were at least 18 people and one animal in the meeting on June 9th in Trump Towers. In addition to Trump Jr., Kushner, Manafort, Veselnitskaya, Akhmetshin, Goldstone, the family representative, the translator, Legsamovich, Protrudickski, Krupskaya, Chekinski, Sparkles, and Ivan the Dancing Bear, also in attendance were right wing actor Kelsey Grammer and all four of his wives and ex-wives.

It is not known if Grammer's ex-wife Leigh-Anne Csuhany, a former exotic dancer, danced at the meeting, but CNN has learned that she looking incredibly fetching in her tight ballet pants!!!

This is amazing, folks!  How many more people can fit in a meeting room? This whole thing is getting to be like the Marx Brothers movie where a ridiculous number of people crowd into a state room!

This is Cub Blitzer with Breaking News Up Your Tuchas!

We have now learned that there were at least 22 people and one animal in the meeting on June 9th in Trump Towers. In addition to Trump Jr., Kushner, Manafort, Veselnitskaya, Akhmetshin, Goldstone, the family representative, the translator, Legsamovich, Protrudickski, Krupskaya, Chekinski, Sparkles, Ivan the Dancing Bear, and Kelsey Grammer and all four of his wives and ex-wives, also in attendance were the four Marx Brothers.

It is known that none of the Marx Brothers danced at the meeting,  and nobody looked fetching, not even Zeppo.

This is Cub Blitzer with A Fucking Shitload of Breaking News!

I am worn out.

We have now learned that there were at least 270 people and one animal in the meeting on June 9th in Trump Towers. In addition to Trump Jr., Kushner, Manafort, Veselnitskaya, Akhmetshin, Goldstone, the family representative, the translator, Legsamovich, Protrudickski, Krupskaya, Chekinski, Sparkles, Ivan the Dancing Bear, Kelsey Grammer and all four of his wives and ex-wives, and the four Marx Brothers, also in attendance were all 248 Republicans in the House of Representatives.

It is not known whether any of the Republicans danced at the meeting, but CNN has learned they all looked absolutely ridiculous in their tight ballet pants.


Ivan, will you testify in exchange for immunity?

Saturday, July 15, 2017

The Man - Trumpian Candidate

Been reminded lately of a great movie we've all seen called The Manchurian Candidate?

Thought so.

Starring Frank Sinatra and Laurence Harvey, The Manchurian Candidate tells a tale in which the Russians plant a clueless operative in the United States to destroy democracy. Same thing in real life, except here the Russians have planted an idiotic douche bag in the United States who's best quality is being clueless to destroy democracy.  

All that’s missing is Angela Lansbury.

Until now.

“You can’t deny me entrance to the Oval Office!  I’m Mrs. Johnny Iselin, Raymond’s, I mean Donald’s mother.”

“But, Mrs. Iselin, President Trump is very busy …”

“Nonsense, you idiot!  He’s probably busy salivating over that tart Erin Burnett on fake news channel CNN!”

“Why, Mother!  What a pleasant surprise!”

“Why, this is a pleasant surprise, Raymond, I mean, Donald!  I thought you were masturbating to fake news, but you’re with your Vladimir Putin blow-up doll. Good!”

“Mother, why must you always put me down?”

"Because you're a stupid, ignorant, boorish, disgusting, narcissistic clown! In a good way. And perfect for manipulation by our Russian handlers."

"Chelsea Handler?"

"Did I mention stupid?" 

"Why are you here, Mother?"

"Because it's time to play a little cards, Raymond, I mean Donald."


"Because you've developed a fantasy I must eradicate before it destroys our plans to destroy America."

"Okay. Solitaire, mother?"

"Heavens no, Donald, you're way too dumb to understand the rules to Solitaire. We're playing Old Maid."

"Okay, deal!  Shit, I got the Old Maid again! And she's so ugly she makes comedy writer Bruce Vilanch look like Scarlett Johansson!"

"Now listen to me, Donald: you will forget this recent fantasy of yours and concentrate on turning America into the Borscht Capital of the World!"

"Whatever you want, Mother. I'll do your bidding ...  that is, your bidding  on The New Price is Right!   Goodbye, Mother."

"Hey, kid!  Hey, 71 year old, kid!  I saw your mother just leaving. I need to talk to you now."

"Why, it's Frank Sinatra, playing Captain Bennett Marco!  Doo Be Doo Be Doo, Frank!

"Oh, man!  Did somebody mention stupid?"

"What do you want to talk about, Frank?" 

"Let's play a little cards, kid."

"As long as it doesn't require reading."

"Look at the cards, Raymond ... I mean, Donald: 52 ugly old maids. They make comedy writer Bruce Vilanch look like Scarlett Johansson. And each one of these old maids is telling you "you grab my pussy, you'll get a knitting needle up your ass.’ 

They're also telling you it’s over!  The links are smashed. Which is a shame because I felt like hitting the links and playing golf tomorrow!" 

"Why, Frank, I see it all clearly now!  I will resign tomorrow!" 

"Good, kid, good!"

"And I will resign like no one has ever seen before! Under prior administrations our resignations were the laughing stock of the world but not anymore."

"I'll say it again: Did somebody mention stupid?" 

“And I will turn the White House over to Crooked Hillary, who’ll probably force her way in before I've even finished caressing, kissing, and packing up all my pictures and false Time covers of myself. " 

“Okay, kid, just great! Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got to go suck up to future president Ronald Reagan.”

“But, Frank, there’s one condition. You gotta help me realize a fantasy that, well, only you can help with."

"Anything, kid!" 

"I wanna hang with the Rat Pack."



And don't forget, folks, it may not like be catching a performance of the Rat Pack in their prime, but I guarantee it's funny, that is, my book Nouveau Old, Formerly Cute. 

And absolutely no collusion, no obstruction!