There's Nothing Worse than the Wino

My daughter received a voucher in the mail the other day for $100 worth of wine. She usually runs an amazing offer past me to see if it's a scam. I thought back to my father, who would be 102 years old today. The conversation, from the early 1980s, had turned to the Bowery. This was before you needed to pass a rope line to get in. Denizens included defrocked priests, broke lawyers, crooked accountants, shell-shocked vets, and working class joes and janes who lost the battle with the bottle years before. My father said, "There's nothing worse than the wino." I said, "Dad, haven't you heard about this crack cocaine epidemic? It's killing people every day and ruining lives." "Yes," said the old Irishman, "there's nothing worse than the wino." The crack epidemic subsided.  I wonder where the winos went?

To the AMNY Hawker on the Herald Sq. Subway Mezzanine

To the lady who gives out the free morning paper:
When you hawk a paper, you're supposed to entice us with what "it" is: "Read All About It!: HUN SINKS LUSITANIA or "Read All About It!: SADDAM FOUND IN SPIDER HOLE,  not "Read All About It!: AM New York!"

Good News from the Barber

If a haircut were a speech, then the peroration would be the mirror ritual. Late Sunday morning, my barber angled the mirror in his hands so I could see in the big wall mirror the handiwork of the last 15 minutes. As the light from the spot at the top of my head reached my retina, I also reflected, on the time I was sitting on the floor playing with my kids as they were eye-level to me. Matt said, "Daddy, you have a spot!" I had known this but went into foolish denial. My wife later acknowledged the fact. In fact, she recently expressed the opinion that had thought by this time (some 20 years later) that I would have lost it all. I said to my barber, "Well, I still have that spot back there." He said, "Don't worry, that's from the summer. It'll grow back in the winter." Punked by my own barber. I tipped 20% for the laugh.

WKRB--Sweet Sounds of Hal David

It's only blowing out 10 watts and heard in Bk and the Rockaways, but there were some big sounds coming out of WKRB 90.3 FM on Sweet Sounds tribute to the late Hal David. I think Jonathan Schwartz managed a single tune in salute to Hal David last weekend on WNYC-FM, but Prof. Ron Forman put together a terrific hour, including my personal favorites, "What's New Pussycat" sung by Tom Jones and "Living Together" from the much maligned musical version LOST HORIZON. Thank you professor. I live nearby so I can dial the show up from across Sheepshead Bay. If you live out of the coverage area you can also tune in from the Internet via this link.

I Saved a Life Today

A tornado touched down in Breezy Point, Queens and Canarsie today. We also had some strong winds in Gerritsen Creek. After the storm, my wife and went out for a walk in the creek and spied a bluefish flopping in the trail. It must have been lifted out of the water by the winds. Rather than call Nanny Bloomberg and 311 to find out what to do when discovering wildlife out of its proper environment, I picked the fish up by the tail and tossed it some distance into the water. I say some "some distance" because due to so-called restoration, the water is fenced off. I seem to recall that the same restoration line was used for Prospect Park, which is now a tree museum. We lived in Park Slope when there was just three of us and I can remember walking down to the stream, a little bit of nature only a few blocks away from our third-floor walk up. Now, you can look at the stream through a chain link fence. You think these fences are temporary and after 10-20 years, you realize that it isn't so. Each time they "restore" Gerritsen Creek, it is claimed that it is being restored to its natural original state. I'm not sure which fixed point in time they use to simulate that antediluvian condition.