A few years before the stock market tanked, I inherited a piece of money. The low six figures bequeathed only sparked the dimmest Champagne dreams. Fortunately, I’ve never had caviar tastes.
After taking prudent steps by settling with everyone I owed, and yielding oh-so-slightly to one impulse — traveling — I invested the remaining chunk.
During the money part, the banker handling the funds transfer asked my plans. Beyond depositing that money in my accounts I had none. Until the sudden jolt in tax brackets, I lacked personal financial foresight.
The bank guy saw a pigeon. He talked a good line. If I’d been younger and insecure, I likely would’ve swallowed his suggestions whole and entrusted him and his institution with my pile. Instead, the smoothness of his patter raised suspicions. Mine. Me and my cash left shortly thereafter. Continue reading We Stand Together or Fall Apart
Tough about Borders Books, eh. Guess they never should’ve swallowed Brentano’s. That’s a specific New York reference for New Yorkers of certain ages.
We readers should mourn Borders diminishment. Coupled with vanishing independent bookstores, fewer national outlets will limit variety. Less shelf space means filling what remains with more common titles and crowding out the new, experimental or just plain weird.
Might Borders’ survival mean selling Glenn Beck coloring books? Given the addled masses lapping up his daily misinformation, and a struggling book chain looking to turn quick, immense, tidy profits, how soon until corporate interests begin offering brain-dead America’s favorite savant’s wigwams and drawings for his audience’s pleasure?
Naturally with Beck scribbling inside the lines isn’t as important as smoking peyote-infused crayons. Continue reading Roll Over Gutenberg and Tell Your Printers Devil the News!
Who among us isn’t glad Charlie Sheen will curtail his, uh, convalescence in order to resume taping Two and a Half Men sooner? Certainly the hospitality and adult film industries are grateful, as well as whoever allegedly supplied him with cocaine.
My sentiments are fully aligned along the comedy’s crew. They don’t enjoy the same cushion as that show’s creative complement. Van Nuys is nice but it doesn’t compare to Bel Air.
Anyone but me notice the expected outrage concerning Charlie’s behavior — drunkenness and suspected drug abuse stirred in with porn actresses — has maybe rated one “tsk” on the “tutt-tutt scale”?
Isn’t his reported misconduct the sort which displeases those who despise others having good times? The lack of stratospheric moral dungeon stuns me. Continue reading Temperance? Abstinence? Rehab? Nah!
Blessed and cursed are those of us residing in the New York Metropolitan area. Regarding the first, where else on earth can inquisitive minds, the nakedly ambitious, poseurs even, find such a concatenation of amusements, outlets and audiences?
On the downside, cheap is expensive here.
In order to avoid falling into an exaggerated subsistence level, throughout January I performed certain economies. The 2008 financial tumble washed over me in 2009 but I didn’t start gasping for air until last year.
Being luckier than many others reduced my pay, transformed my bonus into lousy tip money, while my investments only started recouping their declines slower than a tired fat man climbing Empire State Building stairs. Continue reading What Came Along
The template to “Ricky,” someone referenced in my ebook Reveries (http://www.amazon.com/Reveries-ebook/dp/B004H8G1KO/), recently left me a message. Between work, launching my writing, and living, we haven’t socialized much lately. My hours are allocated. His remain formless.
Decades ago I may’ve been a “Ricky.” Young American males commonly pattern themselves after him. Generally “Ricky” wallows and indulges in women and beer. I’ll proudly cop to that much! Exuding confidence, he’s the sort who attracts women and appeals to men.
Both want to orbit him. Women because his proximity raises their value, while men wish to share his esteem, if not appropriate a measure of same.
Of course being “Ricky” has a shelf life. Around 30 nature usually diminishes the dazzle. If “Ricky” is lucky, and hasn’t been struck blind by too much self-adulation, he understands how he must transition into a more substantial adult. Continue reading Yield From Effort
Why the pen name? Why the whole establishment of an entirely separate entity? Why isn’t the ebook’s author visible?
Does Reveries (http://www.amazon.com/Reveries-ebook/dp/B004H8G1KO/) embarrass me? Am I ashamed of publishing so much sexual detail?
Those were questions from the clique to whom I devulged my nom de porn and output.
The wise guy response: Hey. Why so many questions?
But it was good to have friends challenge me. What better preparation exists for the inevitable tight-assed abstainers, the righteous who advertise their piety instead of demonstrate virtue, and the extreme hardcore types who wonder whether procreative relations are necessary sinning?
Recently, a collar of New York City clerics and laity convened a press conference. They decried the high number of abortions within the five boroughs. Looking upon the clammy assemblage, I noticed a paucity of women. Mostly men complained about a condition unique to the second sex. Sincere as every male in that room could’ve sworn himself, not a one had first-hand knowledge regarding menstruation, ovulation or gestation.
Especially the ones who’d taken celibacy vows. A-hem, instead of amen. Continue reading Behind the Curtain