Rant #246: May Day Go Away

Tomorrow, May 1, is May Day.

This holiday isn't even listed in my desk calendar. All that is listed is Labor Day in Mexico.

But at one time, May Day was a big holiday here in the U.S.

I remember as a kid, maybe in kindergarten or first grade, that May 1 featured a big celebration at our school. We actually have film of myself and my class in the schoolyard doing some type of dance, and then dancing around a maypole.

I think the whole thing dated back to much earlier times. This was some type of fertility rite (egads!) or something to do with welcoming a good harvest, or something like that.

But May Day took on negative connotations toward the mid to late 1960s, and that's while nobody in this country even bats an eye at the day anymore.

I think it became linked to the then U.S.S.R. and became a "communist" holiday. It was a "workers" day or a "labor" day, and well, that even sounds un-American, doesn't it?

It's a day of political demonstrations and these events are organized by socialist groups, so we certainly can't celebrate a holiday like that here, that's for sure!

That's why, in a democracy, we don't celebrate it anymore.

Believe me, I can understand that entirely.

But I know that at one time we did celebrate it.

And I have the film to prove it.

Rant #245: Every Dog Has His Day

Now that the birthday stuff is over ...

I heard that a third of married women in a recent poll said that they would rather talk to their pets about their problems.

According to an Associated Press-Petside.com poll, women say that their pets are better listeners than their husbands.

And it works the other way too. Eighteen percent of husbands said their pets are better listeners than their wives.

I don't know, I have never personally gotten into a conversation with Max, our family mutt (no, not the one pictured here). Even if I did, I wonder how he would react. He would probably kneel and wait for a treat.

And I guess that that is just it. A pet isn't going to talk back to you, ask idiotic questions, or challenge you, no matter what you say.

You can vent with a pet. You can't with your spouse (or can you; my wife and I have done this on occasion).

More importantly, who thinks up these polls anyway? What kind of stupid nonsense is this--and to have the Associated Press linked up with it ... I mean, don't they have anything better to do?

Aren't there any other topics they can think up for a poll?

Isn't there anything else worth polling people about?

There, I've vented to you, and no, Max is not panting at my side here waiting for a treat.

Sorry to treat all of you like a dog or a cat or a fish or a gerbil or a bird.

Rant #244: So Today's Your Birthday

Yes, the day has come.

I am 53 years old today.

Let me see, 53 years old ... that means I was born way back in 1957. I was the first child born to Phyllis and Carl and after me, against the belief of many people (my mother told me so), they had another child, my sister Gail, two and a half years later.

I am sure we both aged our parents plenty, but gave them lots of joy too.

But back to me (since it is MY day) ...

I feel good for my age, not that 53 is really old anymore. I certainly feel better than I did two years ago to the day, when I had my gall bladder removed. I never felt so sick in my entire life as I did on that day. Since the operation, I have had some bad health days, but nothing terrible like that.

I feel pretty good, to be honest with you.

I never got into the vices of smoking and drinking ... I don't do either.

My vice, if I have one, is cookies. If you put a package of Oreos in front of me and dared me to eat them, I know that I would--the entire bag.

I have no idea what I am getting from my family this year for my birthday. I am sure it will be a few DVDs, maybe a little cash.

That's fine. At this point in time, I look forward to the cards as much as the gifts.

People have asked me what I am doing for my birthday. Well I can tell you that pretty easily:

I'm working.

Yes, I am going into work today. It's no different than any other Wednesday on the calendar. I will put my nose to the grindstone and work, work, and work some more.

I would prefer not to, but what's a poor boy (literally) to do?

So happy birthday to me, happy birthday to me, happy birthday dear Larry, happy birthday to me!

Rant #243: You Bet Your Bippy I Didn't Forget Her

Last week, when I listed all the April birthdays coming up--and said that the upcoming birthdays were among the most eclectic list of birthdays you can find on the calendar--there was one birthday that I decided to bypass because the person is now pretty much a footnote on the wonderful, wacky 1960s.

So I decided to give her her own birthday shout out on the actual day of her birthday, April 27.

Before Goldie Hawn became the female shining light on Rowan and Martin's Laugh-In, Judy Carne was the "it' girl.

She had the look, the temperament, the style, and she fit the part.

Long and lanky, with a perfect 1960s haircut, Carne was, early on, the female centerpiece of the cast.

She looked great in a bikini, and had the type of skin you could write on and see what had been written clearly (this was something of a prerequisite for that show).

And she was the "Sock It To Me Girl" as well.

She would stand there in a bikini, or sometimes in regular, 1960s mod clothes, and take a bucket of water all around her. She was so skinny that the water probably added 10 pounds to her weight.

She seemed annoyed, and maybe she was, to be constantly hit by water.

But the audience loved her. Maybe she didn't love it as much.

She left the series after about two seasons to look for greener pastures that she never found. She divorced Burt Reynolds, got into drugs and a whole lot of other things, had a serious injury (I believe she broke her neck), and kind of faded into obscurity, never reaching the pinnacle of success that show-mates Hawn and Lily Tomlin reached.

Carne is 71 today. It's hard to believe, because I have that young, pretty, skinny image of her in my mind, where it will reside forever.

Happy birthday, Judy. You made my Monday nights more than 40-plus years ago.

And I promise, no "Sock It To Me" jokes.

Rant #242: A Crisis A Day

My father's surgery went fine. This time, he had a competent doctor who knew what he was doing. In fact, the surgery went so well that he went back to work today, and his vision is excellent right now.

Onto the next "crisis" ...

As for our family's television provider, we use Dish Network. The only reason we use it is for the price. Their customer service is horrendous, we don't get all the channels we want, and whenever there is a storm brewing, there is a potential problem with the transmission.

But you can't beat the price.

I recently got fed up with them, and decided that our bedroom TV would get Verizon. I made the appointment about three weeks ago, and the technician was supposed to come on Saturday to hook us up.

I also had an appointment at my car dealer for an inspection and oil change on the same day.

After I had that work done, I hurried home to wait for the technician to come to the house. The hours piled up, but the technician never came.

I gave it a little more time, and then called Verizon. They said I never made an appointment, which was wrong, and I told them so. In fact, I had the work order number in front of me, which cinched the deal.

They sent a technician over in minutes, we were hooked up in no time ... and because I raised a fuss, they gave me the installation for free, a $79 value.

Crisis averted.

The only crisis was watching the Yankees lose to the Angels on the YES Network--one of the channels Dish Network does not carry for a variety of idiotic reasons--on Sunday afternoon.

Oh well, I guess you can't have everything.

Rant #241: New Picture Sleeve Blog

I have created a new blog which might be of interest to you.

It is called "Picture Sleeves A Go Go!" and it can be reached at http://picturesleevesagogo.blogspot.com/.

This will be a vehicle for me to post scans of all of my 45 single picture sleeves onto the Web for everyone to enjoy.

I plan on posting everything I have from the 1960s to the current time, and with the photos, I will also provide short capsules on the performer and the sleeve.

This will be a picture sleeve site only; no music will be featured at the site. However, I may try to cross-pollinate where appropriate. I have so many sites now that I feel that I can do this flawlessly.

Right now, I am just into the letter A, from AC/DC to the Association. That being said, you will see and eclectic mix of material, and sleeves not just from the U.S., but from around the world.

I think looking at these sleeves will give you--and myself--a glimpse into both what was popular during the past five decades as well as seeing what I was into through the years.

I hope you find it as interesting as I have in starting it up.

Again, no music but all sleeves, all the time.

And by the way, please contribute to the site in the form of comments. There is a comment area under each section for you to leave your comments. I will do my best to answer them.

Rant #240: Eye Hope Everything Goes Fine

Today, my father goes in for cataract surgery. I have taken off the day from work to transport him to and from the hospital where he is slated to have the surgery this morning.

Normally, cataract surgery is a pretty painless, straightforward procedure. It takes about 20 minutes, and the recuperation time is a few days.

Those having the surgery usually claim that they can see better than they ever could, and often don't need their glasses anymore.

Well, with my father, there is a problem. Or should I say, was a problem ... a problem that I hope does not happen again.

Usually this surgery is pretty one-two-three, as I said, but when my father had his first eye done, there was a problem ...

The doctor could not get his cataracts out!

A 20-minute procedure became an hour. I remember my mother and I sitting in the waiting room and wondering what was going on. We said, "Oh, maybe the anesthetic hadn't taken hold," or "Maybe the doctor wasn't ready," or something to that effect.

No, we later learned that the cataracts could not be removed, or at least not be removed by this particular doctor.

Finally, after more than an hour of waiting, we were called into the doctor's office, and she told us that she could not get the cataracts out. She tried and tried and tried, but they would not come out.

We asked her, "What do you mean you couldn't get them out?" and she said she tried, but was unsuccessful. She said he was a one in a million person, because normally, there isn't such a problem.

Well, we took my father home, with a patch on his eye and all black and blue, and he had to wait a day or two or three to have the procedure done again.

This time, it worked, the cataracts were out, and he--and we--survived the ordeal.

And by the way, the original doctor, who couldn't get the cataracts out, retired right after this. Yes, this 30-something doctor, supposedly in the prime of her career, gave it all up. She simply didn't have what it took to continue in her field, and I think this whole episode freaked her out.

Now my father goes back again for the other eye, and I have to tell you, I am a bit nervous. What happens if this crazy thing happens again?

It had better not happen, for the sake of my father and my mom. I don't think they could take another episode like the previous one again.

I know that I can't.