The most jarring aspect of turning 65? Surveys.
Now officially a senior citizen, my age has entombed me in the nebulous 65 and over category polling agencies disdain. That means my opinions will be diminished, if not altogether discounted then dismissed. Continue reading Sixty-Five
After Hamas attacked Israel, it took no foresight to know that America’s much vaunted First Amendment was going to get a harder workout. Not from informed debate, which assumes both parties can actually support their positions. But from the decline of discourse in our nation. Continue reading Dogs Bark. The Caravan Rolls On.
Relocating to Las Vegas has given me greater appreciation of classical music. Growing up, many compositions heard today often provided the ambience to my 1960s boyhood in Quarropas, New York.
Besides the expected rhythm and blues records mother selected for our turntable, she also purchased 120 Music Masterpieces. If you’re old enough you should recall John Williams, the plummy English actor not Star Wars movies composer, who pitched them. Classical orchestrations filled this four-album compilation. If remembered correctly, mother usually had these spinning while cleaning house.
For some reason I still hear them best from summertime. Likely being home from elementary school on summer vacation increased these observances. Amazing how she could make and leave me lunch in the icebox before going to work, then return home after a full day of toil and freshen our home.
Now I can fully appreciate her efforts. Then it was simply “normal.” That is if the younger me ever contemplated it. Oh, quite unlikely. Continue reading Let the Music Play
At times one feels besieged by human wreckage in Las Vegas because it seems one is besieged by them here.
The common questions that should cut across all social, economic, class lines are “Who doesn’t have a hand out? And why is that grimy hand always in my face?” Continue reading No Alms for the Unworthy
An “Only in Las Vegas” sign portends the Big Mayberry should enjoy a substantial rebound in 2023. Continue reading More Bad Vegas
That time of year again. The season where convention and tradition insist we evaluate how good our lives have been despite setbacks and denials.
What’s particularly irksome is hearing all those sanctified savants who’ve proclaimed they’re “blessed.” As if leading patently unfulfilled or marginal lives is a wonderful condition, one that beats the alternative.
As the ancients knew, and modern mankind has forgotten believing technology has insulated us, there are fates worse than death. Continue reading Bad Vegas