I Watched "Hamilton" on Hulu and It Was Almost Better Than Seeing It Live

 

I'm going to repeat that statement above in the body of this piece since I realize it is somewhat controversial and I want to make sure you perceive it fully before those of you who are live theater purists decide you want to boil me in oil or worse challenge me to a duel in which you are not going to aim your pistol upward and intentionally miss me but rather shoot me directly in the heart.

I Watched "Hamilton" on Hulu and It Was Almost Better Than Seeing It Live 

Okay here's why:

1) It stars Lin-Manuel Miranda and Leslie Odom Jr.  I'm sure whoever those guys were who I saw a few years ago were great, and I should know their names, but you can't beat these two guys.  And on top of that, Leslie Odom Jr. is a proud Philly guy!  

Can't beat that.

2) Nobody in the audience is singing to the show.  In the theater many in the audience have seen the show multiple times and enjoy singing along with the actors.  I get that, and I am tolerant of it way more so than I would have been had it been "The Sound of Music" and the guy sitting next to me were rhapsodizing unmelodically to "The Hills are Alive with the Sound of Music" while I'm still trying to figure out  "How Do You Solve a Problem Like Maria?"

So, it is a little bit different with "Hamilton.''  Still and all, I can't say I fully enjoyed the guy next to me channeling King George III while rhapsodizing unmelodically

"Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da

Da da dat dat da ya da

Da da da dat da dat da da da da ya da

Da da dat dat da…"

and spitting half the lyrics out on me. 

In my house the only person singing and spitting is me. And that's disgusting enough. 

3) I am sitting in my underwear.  You can't beat watching "Hamilton" when the people on stage "are in the room where it happens" and you're in the room where you can scratch your butt.

Okay, did I redeem myself at least somewhat here?  I hope so.

Okay now, Everybody!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I Was Caught on the Coldplay Platonic Cam

 

Yep, I was caught last week on the Coldplay Platonic Cam.  Here's how it went down ....

"Look, everyone," said Chris Martin, "there's a man on camera with his arms around nobody! And nobody has their arms around him!"

"Oh ... er, umm ... hullo."

"Hello to you, friend!  We've got you on the Coldplay Platonic Cam.  What's your name, sir?"

"Umm ... Perry Block, Chris." 

"Hi, Perry! You know, actually most people caught on the Platonic Cam are standing two or three feet away from a dispassionate woman friend. But there's no woman within sight of you." 

"You noticed, huh?"

"Perry, did you ever actually have a platonic relationship with a woman?"

"Yes, Chris, once a long time ago, I did."

"Tell me about it, Perry."

"Her name was Allison. She was an attorney, quite beautiful with long blonde hair. She was the Perfect Platonic."

"The Perfect Platonic.  I like that."

"We had so much in common, Chris. We loved the same movies, the same art, the same music."

"Like Coldplay?"

"No, of course not like Coldplay!"

"That wasn't nice, Perry."

"Hey, at least you're not ABBA!''

"Thank God for that!  Tell me more about you and Allison."

"I always listened with great interest to everything she said. I took all her opinions into careful consideration, and I never ever pretended I was listening to her when I wasn't." 

"Sweet."

"I was always considerate of her feelings and was there for her whenever she felt sad or troubled. Sometimes I would listen for hours on end whenever she felt the need to pour her heart out."

"That sounds very special, Perry."

"It was! I always remembered her birthday and other special occasions and bought her thoughtful tasteful gifts on those occasions that she would invariably love."

"It truly sounds like the Perfect Platonic. So what happened?"

"One day she told me that I was so wonderful, so perfect in every respect, in so many ways everything she always dreamed of a man that ...

"Yes?"

"She had fallen passionately in love with me!" 

"I see."

"She said she could think of nothing else but how much she longed to have constant uninhibited no-holds-barred sex with me!"

"OMG! And how did you feel?"

"Exactly the same."

"Oh. So what happened?"

'We broke up.  You can't maintain a Perfect Platonic relationship when you have two people madly in love with each other like that."

"I understand. Did you ever see her again?"

"Of course not. But it was for the best."

"So today you're okay about it?"

"No, Chris, I'm not! I'm afraid I won't be able to have a detached, empty, non-physical relationship with a woman ever again!"

"Let's hope that isn't true, Perry."

"Could you do me a favor, Chris?" 

"Yes,  Perry?"

"Next time, catch me on the Coldplay Kiss Cam."  

"Why's that?"    

"It's just too painful to be Platonic anymore."     

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Now Do You Forget All About Jeffrey Epstein?" A Truth Social Post.

 

The Radical Left Woke Mob Lunatics  are once again attempting to destroy the country you love and I pretend to love with another fraud that is even worse – far worse – than the Stolen Election Fraud of 2020.

 

Obama, Crooked Hillary, Comey, Brennan, and the Losers and Criminals of the Biden Administration who hate our country have their hands all over this   MALIGNANT scheme to SUBVERT the valiant efforts of YOUR FAVORITE PRESIDENT to MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN!

 

And I am so upset by all this that I have used the words SUBVERT and MALIGNANT in the sentence above, not that I have any idea what they mean. 

 

Our great Attorney General Pam Bondi who is doing a terrific job (and who I am already getting a little sick of) and I call this

 

THE FARMER’S DOG/FRESH PET

HOUND DOG HOAX!!!

You’ve probably seen the TV commercial where the stupid young man of Low IQ (a Democrat!) throws his very hot, very young girl friend out of his house because she won’t support him in THE FARMER’S DOG/FRESH PET HOUND DOG HOAX to force feed his dog one of these two “dog foods” he keeps in his fridge.

 

Hey, you Low IQ Individual, as long as you’re throwing that very hot, very young girl friend away, throw her in the direction of the White House so that I can move on her like a bitch!

It is FAKE NEWS that these “dog foods” are healthy! They are rather designed to make your little Prince, or Fido, or Bark-Bark every bit as delicious to illegal and criminal immigrants as Trump's Steaks and Trump Vodka are to Normal American White People!

 

Obama, Crooked Hillary, Comey, Brennan, and the Losers and Criminals of the Biden Administration who hate our country want illegal and criminal immigrants from all the shithole countries in the world to flock to the country you love and I pretend to love already licking their lips and salivating their chops at the thought of FOUR-LEGGED BIG MACS ROAMING THE LAND before they even make it as far North as Springfield, Home of the Simpsons!

 

And as the better tasting dogs all get eaten, only the gay, bi, and trans dogs will remain un-eaten, furthering the Radical Left Woke Mob Lunatics’ GAY/TRANS/BI CA-NINE, TEN, ELEVEN, TWELVE CONNUNDRUM!

 

And  I am so upset by all this that I have used the word CONNUNDRUM in the sentence above, not that I have any idea what it means.

Now Do You Forget All About Jeffrey Epstein, who is somebody nobody cares about?  If not, you are a stupid person of low IQ and I don’t want your support.

 

Thank you for your attention to this matter.

DJT

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I'm Melting - What a World! - And There's Nothing I Can Do About It

 

Yes, I'm melting.  Not exactly like the Wicked Witch of the West but just as quickly and just as dramatically.

At least I'm not green.  At least not yet.

Not only have I been getting shorter but I'm also contracting.  I've been shrinking and contracting as if somebody put me in the drier.

I used to have a 36 inch waist.  Now my waist has wasted away to 29 inches. I literally cannot get my pants to stay up unless I wear both suspenders and a belt, a fact about which some people are incredulous.

I tell them that to accept that fact they have to embrace "the suspenders of disbelief."

I'll wait for it.

Aside from normal aging, another reason I'm shrinking is that I have extreme Scoliosis - which is not the name of Socrates' most apt pupil - but the condition more commonly known as curvature of the spine. 

Finally I had had enough. I went for a second opinion to an orthopedist who had been highly recommended to me named Dr. Kropotkin.

"Dr. Kropotkin," I said, "you come highly extolled to me."

"Thank you," he replied. "My approach is to treat my patients with respect so they can have hope that they can improve. There will be a brighter day ahead."

I certainly liked the sound of that.

"Let me take a look at your spine," said Dr. Kropotkin. "Please take off your shirt."

I did so.

"HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!" 

"I beg your pardon?"

"You have a spine that looks like it was designed by Zorro!"

"Umm,  is this how you give me respect,  Dr. Kropotkin?"

"Of course. But OMG, Your spine looks like the punctuation mark at the end of a properly phrased response on Jeopardy!"

"A question mark? But when do we get to the hope part?

"Soon. Do you like mythology, Mr. Block?"

"I guess."

"If Diana the Huntress needed a new bow and arrow she ought to use your ridiculously curved spine to draw back her bow!"

"Well, I'm certainly seeing that brighter day ahead. What can you do for me?"

"Nothing comes to mind."

"Thank you, Kamala Harris. So what can I look forward to?"

"Looking Daniel Radcliff eye to eye. After that, you've seen "The Incredible Shrinking Man?"

"Yeah, in fact, I once did a parody of it."

"Better reread that parody. And think about projecting yourself directly into it."

And so looks like I will continue to shrink.  And I have but one thing to say about it.

What a  World!  What a World!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

My Dog Day Afternoon (and Week) in Brooklyn with Bruno

 

Yep, it's DUMBO.  Do you know what that stands for?

Tell you later.

From time to time I travel from Philly to Brooklyn to be with my son Brian's dog Bruno when Brian leaves on business travel, and I had such an early summer sojourn just last week.

On the train to NYC once again I saw the words "Trenton Makes, the World Takes" on the side of that bridge we all pass in Trenton.

Umm ... somebody got paid for writing this? And probably got paid again when it was erected on the side of the bridge? I wish I had known when I was younger that there was a career path in writing shitty slogans for New Jersey towns.

Arriving in New York, I always forget how incredibly big and brassy everything is up here only 90 miles away from Philly. Brooklyn is Philadelphia on Steroids and Manhattan is Brooklyn on Steroids with a superiority complex so massive that even Martha Stewart might blush.

And then some. A lot more some.

Bruno

I collected Bruno as soon as I hit Brooklyn and took him out for the first of many walks. There are many nice residential neighborhoods around where he lives and he also likes going to nearby Fort Greene Park.

Walking through the park we were frequently greeted by a very strong smell of dope. (We called it "dope" back in the day although the operative term in this day and age is "weed.")

Bruno would eagerly sniff away. He often got so intense about it I think for the moment he forgot all about dog butt smell.

One morning Bruno asked me to put on the Grateful Dead. He especially liked "Sugar Magnolia." Well, most of us have to go through that phase sooner or later.

Bruno attracts a lot of attention on the streets of Brooklyn and when people ask me about him, I often tell them that Bruno is my son's dog. "Oh, he's your grand dog," some people say.

"No, I don't have any grandchildren and I don't have a grand dog!" I reply, probably a bit too brusquely. "I prefer to think of Bruno as my third son - Brian, Brandon, and Bruno." And Bruno is probably the nicest to me of the bunch.

I had breakfast with Bruno one morning in the above breakfast room in the dog friendly nearby Ace Hotel where I ordered Bruno a breakfast special of scrambled eggs, bacon, and roast potatoes. Okay, I don't eat bacon for humane reasons, but Bruno is a dedicated carnivore.

Yep, he wolfed it down. What ya gonna do?

The Met (Not the Hated Mets, the Met)

A few random objects d'art from an afternoon visit:

Yep, it's Alexander Hamilton. Right here in the room where it happened.

An interesting piece of Native American Art. I don't think I've ever seen fish so happy, especially after being caught.

Don't know if this was intended or not, but these adoring Magi seem to be a lot less focused on the little baby than they're supposed to be.

Brooklyn Street Names

If I were someone who had achieved success as a merchant or some such thing in early America and my name were Schermerhorn, I think I would have changed it to something like "Horn." Nevertheless Mr. Schermerhorn chose not to do so.

So, today if Shaboozey were to marry into the Schermerhorn family his name would be:

           SHABOOZEY SCHERMERHORN

Try saying that fast five times!

Whenever Bruno and I walk past Dean Street, I go into my impression of James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause, to which Bruno says "You're out of your depth here; if you gotta do James Dean, stick to James Dean in Giant!

He's right, of course.

And I have to wonder about the social life of the guy who named this street way back in the day.

And Other Assorted Street Signs

Well, it's nice to matter to somebody so okay, JC, I'll hang with you. But the minute you start proselytizing, you need to hit the road, Jack!

Or Jesus, as the case may be.

Shit! I really wanted to play on that sliding board!

'Tis the Season to be Jolly, all right!

An Open Mic or Two

I did a few Open Mics at the EastVille Comedy Club while I was up in Brooklyn. I don't want to say I didn't do well but one night even the crickets got up and left the building.

Before I headed back to Philly, there was one more point to ponder ....

"So, Bruno, what does DUMBO stand for?"

"Down Under Manhattan Bridge Overpass"

"Knew you'd nail it!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Have A Great Day" And Other Farewells I Can Do Without

 

No, you two, it isn't!

As you know,  many people in the course of a day insist on bidding us farewell with these words:

                                    Have a Great Day!

Have a Great Day?  Really?

Don’t they realize they’re only setting us up for failure?

"Have a Great Day!" said Julie, the young woman barista in Starbucks, as she handed me my cappuccino.

 "I know you don't mean any harm," I said to her, "but Never Say That Again!"

"Why?"

"I’ve been around for 74 years and I doubt I’ve ever had a Great Day. I’ve had a few good days, but never a Great Day.

"What about the day you got married?"

"Try another example, Julie."

'Okay, let's say you met your favorite film star."

"I'd soon find out that they put their pants on one leg at a time and often jam both legs into the same pants leg at the same time."

"All right, you meet your dream woman?"

"Becomes a nightmare when she turns out to be a Trumper." 

"What if you win the lottery."

"It still wouldn’t be a Great Day." 

"How come?"

"After a stately pleasure dome I would decree I would realize that all I really ever wanted was my childhood sled named Rosebud and that my entire life has already been depicted in a movie and the movie was a hell of a lot better than whatever the hell it is that I'm living!"

"All right, I see what you mean. But what do you think I should say?"

"What you should say, Julie, is: 

Have a Day That Doesn't Suck!

 Because that is actually achievable."

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

BTW, everyone, here's a few other long and short goodbyes I could do without: 

• Catch you later.  

       Promise me you won't drop me?

• Take care.  

Really? I should take care? Not break in a circus trapeze act without a net?

• Peace.  

        Aw c'mon, it isn't 1972 and The Mod Squad has been off the air for 50 years!

• Hasta la vista, Baby.

         Channeling Arnold Schwarzenegger?  DON'T!

•  I'll be back

         Same deal.

• Bye Felicia.

        "Bye-Bye" to anyone who says "Bye Felicia."  Even if you are saying         goodbye to Felicia.

• I must be going.

       Only appropriate if you're Groucho Marx.  

• Good night and Good Luck

       Only appropriate if you're Edward R. Murrow.

• Gotta bounce.

       Only appropriate if you're a check written by Donald Trump

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Thank you for this little talk," Julie the barista said. "Now I know what to always say."

"Good.  But this one day I wish you would say to me:

Have a Great Day!" 

"But why?"

''Maybe ... just maybe, Julie ... today it will finally happen."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Like, Peace." 

Mirror, Mirror On the Wall, Who's the Biggest, Fattest Liar of Them All?

 

My bathroom mirror is a big fat liar.

But in a good way.

Perhaps you have a similar relationship with your bathroom mirror as well.

My mirror - his name is Bob - and I have been together for a good 27 years, ever since I first  moved into this place. We've been through a lot together over those 27 years including a marriage, two children, some job travails, and various and sundry other vagaries and assorted mishegas of Father Time.  

Over that time Bob has done his best to shield me from ... well, those many various and sundry vagaries and assorted mishegas of Father Time. 

"Good morning, Perry! How are you this fine day?" Bob greets me as I stumble into the bathroom first thing in the morning.

"Lousy, Bob. And it's anything but a fine day."

"Oh, come on, it's not as bad as all that. You're looking good today!"

"Bob, how can you say that? Look at those dark circles under my eyes, it looks like I just fell on two shot glasses!"

"For somebody who's 74, you look like you're 64."

"64?  Not 54?"

"I was going to say 54. Now you know what to do: Turn your head 45 degrees to the right so that the left side of your face is most prominent."

"Yeah, I guess that's my best side."

"Right you are!  Turn, turn, easy as she goes, Perry, easy as she goes ... Perfect!  Now tilt your head upward, that's it, and give me that fetching smile!''

"Well, I'm not sure I'm in the mood to go fetch, but that does look a little better."

"Not a little better, but way good! You're still one handsome dude!"

"Thank you, Bob."

"Now I know you're going to have a good day.  Maybe not a great day, but a good one."

"Nobody ever has a great day!  Certainly not me. If you had wished me a great day, I would have known you were full of shit!"

"Do you have one of those meetups today at Gulifty's Happy Hour?  Are there any promising women there?"

"Yeah, there are, but I don't know, Bob. I don't think they'd be interested ..."

"Perry! As Wayne Gretzky says 'You miss 100 % of the shots you don't take.'"

"But Wayne Gretzky turned out to be a Trumper!"

"So what? You can hold two thoughts in you head at once. Perry, I know you can."

"You're right, Bob.  I guess I can."

''Go out and give 'em Hell, Big Guy!"

Then I venture forth feeling a bit like the world may today see me if not 35 years old neither as would bespeak all those years which the calendar and a birthdate in 1950 might indicate.

And then while I'm out, I may happen to catch a quick glimpse of myself in a storefront window or in a random mirror in a bar or restaurant - any mirror that is other than Bob - and when I see that image, I think: 

"Oh my fucking God, I've turned into Rumpelstiltskin!!!"

I’m wrinkled, bald, desiccated, and with no chance of attracting anything more than the most marginal of women.” 

I know you mean well, Bob, but you are a big fat fucking liar!

Nevertheless, I still love you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~