"If thou can wake by four o'the clock I prithee, call me. Sleep hath seized me wholly." (Cymbeline)

This morning (?) I slept until about 12:15 PM. I only got out of bed because of shame. Last night we went out to dinner with Mike (Col. Pickering) and Helen (Queen of Transylvania). He wanted steak so we went to Longhorns, one of our favorite hangouts. Helen is a very bright and educated lady who is quite active in the City of Hope. Mike is a thespian who has never been known to use a word that might send a reader to the dictionary. We were having very animated conversations when the manager began moving tables and chairs right behind us...many tables and chairs stuck together until there were 20 places. This event sent shivers up my spine, because I was wearing my hearing aids and expected the noise of 20 people to sound like 20,000. However, when this group came in and sat down, it became a guessing game for us as to who they were and what were they doing there. Before they came, we figured it was a kid's birthday party and made plans to move out of there. But there were no kids, so we figured maybe it was a wedding party, but they were all dressed out in jeans and t-shirts for the most part, and wonder of wonders they were quite peaceful and quiet. Then our waitress revealed the mystery: they were all former addicts out of rehap, and met there for dinner once a month. Go know.

We did see a number of kids that night; some were teenagers carrying wires hanging out of their ears and IPods in their hands. Kids today all have IPods, cell phones hooked onto their belts, laptops in Florida, and computers with little cameras in their bedrooms so they can see their friends while IM-ing. Some even carry credit cards. Amazing. When I was a boy, in order to communicate with our friends we attached a string to two cans and stood about 6 feet apart to talk. Why didn't it occur to us that we didn't really need the cans? Credit cards were still in the fetus stage; instead of computers or ball-point pens we had inkwells and blue fingers. For music, we had a victrola to play 78s. I even had a chrystal radio which picked up two stations while I was under the covers. How did I ever grow up?

Every month Huntington Lakes puts out a newsletter with articles about all our clubs; the January issue has this blurb in the "Library News

" section:

Norman Ross will present a program Friday, January 11, 2008, at 10:30 AM in the Terrace Room. He states the title of his program as "The Power and Passion of Poetry and a Pot Pourri of Me." Through readings and discussion of excerpts from some of the classic works of poetry as well as a selection of poems from his newly published books, ADDENDA and SHADOWS in the SUNSET. Dr. Norman Ross will attempt to show how to "reinvent" yourself through the magic, the mystery, and the dynamics of great poetry--and to convince you that poetry is a part of your life.

I don't know how many of you out there have an interest in poetry, but I do best with a very large audience. I will attempt to do all that's promised in 7 minutes. l k k k k k.

"Crabbed age and youth cannot live together; youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care." (Shakespeare)

Today I got a call from the VA Dental Clinic asking if I could come in at 3:45 instead of next week. I welcomed the opportunity because on the day I was supposed to come next week I had appointments with two other doctors. All I had was a cleaning and the hygienist was very skillful since she has been doing this for 25 years. After she was finished and I checked out my teeth in a mirror I told her I was never going to eat again so my teeth would look the same and I wouldn't have to worry anymore about a clavitron. When she said that bacteria would get in my teeth anyway, I decided that I would go ahead and eat after all--and I did. Rhoda went to the fishmarket and bought me a pound of Florida stone crabs--a shellfish treat. (The history of stone crabs and me can be found in "Life #2 in my book.) I love going to the VA for dental and medical work because I never ever had to wait more than 15 or 20 minutes to see a doctor. Besides that, the VA possesses all the latest high-tech equipment.

In Florida it seems that the most important and overriding topics to talk about are doctors, medications, restaurants, and food. These come before discussions about grandchildren and their parents. From the things I've heard about grandchildren by the pool, in restaurants, in the clubhouse, and other venues, I doubt that my generation will keep the title of "Greatest". In 25 years since I'm here, I have never heard of an unsuccessful grandchild who is either in day care, middle school, high school, college, rehab, or the work force. h h h f

Since my books were published, I've been trying to find something fun and rewarding to do and it isn't easy. I'm gratified and humbled by the fact that about 27 books have been purchased not counting the ones I bought myself. I only know about 4 or 5 people who bought one, the others are anonymous. Maybe I'll find a royalty check in the mail one of these days. Meanwhile, since I'm not able to play golf anymore, or take 3 mile walks or loll around a mall, I've been relegated to computer games. One of them is called "Jewel Quest", and I would advise you not to download or buy it because it is addictive. It's really a kind of solitaire game where you have to match cards and clear them from the table. If you're successful in getting rid of all the cards, then another game pops up with little thumbnails of various kinds of gems, and if you match them you accumulate points. I wound up with 1,437,000--but Rhoda beat me.

Now I really have to find something better to do than play games on the computer. Any ideas?--and don't tell me to "volunteer" somewhere. I'm not the volunteering sort. I need to be paid--either in cash or in some other rewarding way. I'll be looking forward to hearing from you.

"There's a divinity that shapes our ends..." (Hamlet)

I got up Christmas morning and ran into the living room to see what Santa had brought for me. When I got there, I found nothing and so I swept through the rest of the house frantically searching for the place where he dropped his load. Disappointedly and thoroughly dejected and pissed off, I went into the kitchen where I saw the two Mallomars that I left for him still on the paper plate. Fortunately for me, I decided he wasn't going to stop on his way back to the North Pole, and so I ate the cookies myself. I even left him some low fat milk, considering his girth and all the cookies that were going to be left for him. I wrote him a Zen note for NEXT Christmas and used two stamps considering the distance it had to go:

Be here now.

Be someplace else later.

Is that so complicated?

Right now, Rhoda is in the kitchen making brisket and kashe varniskes. Personally, I believe she thinks this is Passover after she sees all the children and grandchildren contaminating the environment here. If she puts a glass of Manishevitz wine on the table for dinner, I may have to call Social Services for her. Speaking of Social Services, visitors here this week have commented on the number of elderlies hanging on to their walkers for dear life. I tell them that this is the "walker capital" of the world. And with all these beings rolling around with their walkers, their canes, and their scooters, it looks like the Land of Oz around here. I really should not be critical; I may soon join them. When that happens, the journey of a thousand miles will begin with a single "Oy."

"Felice Navidad"...Gung Hoy Fa Choy

The following is a comment I received as appended to the Birthday blog.

My subscription to your blog will soon expire. If you continue to skip days without any news, I will be forced to terminate my subscription and ask for money back.

This is the thanks I get for writing 110 or so blogs for my readers' edification, entertainment, and education? ? A crank who probably has delusions of adequecy wants his money back? And this is the season to be jolly? This artichoke, this onion, this infected radish, this spongy melon should put on an ill-fitting Santa suit, get on his reindeer sled and fly back north with the other snowflakes and have his nose turn into a carrot and his eyes into two black coals!

I'm truly sorry that some of you have been spoiled rotten into expecting a blog-a-day. At times I need a rest in order to think of more words that I've forgotten. I do, on occasion, have a memory loss.

Last night we went out with Marylyn and Dick to the Chinese Garden. When we got there, it was more like a forest than a garden what with parties of 8, 10, 12, etc. with obvious great grandchildren, plain grandchildren, parents, grandparents and great grandparents milling around outside--overrunning the parking lot waiting for their number to be called to get a table. We finally did. I thought we would get a good deal for dinner because I had a coupon calling for 10% off , good Monday-Thursday with exception of weekends or holidays. When we sat and looked at the "special" menu we found that the prices for all dinners were doubled and nothing available for less than $16.99. The 1 1/4 lb. lobster that previously was $11.99 was now $22.99. Ah! but my coupon said "10% off". Rhoda said they wouldn't take it because it was a holiday; I said it was Dec. 24 and not a holiday. Dec. 25 was the holiday. I was fully confident that I was in the right. But when I showed the coupon to the waiter he laughed in my face with gales of laughter and all the other tables roared with glee at my chutzpah. I reminded the waiter that Dec. 24 was not a holiday, but he claimed it was a Chinese holiday and therefore the coupon was not viable. So much for the season being "jolly".

After dinner and grudgingly paying the check, we four came back to our place about 9pm and chatted animatedly until about 12:30 am. Of course we had pictures around the house including a few of Rich Higgins, and they were curious to know some of the details about him. I did have a video of CNN news in 1991 when the hostages were brought home including Richard's body along with Bill Buckley's at Andrews Air Force Base in Md. Marilyn and Dick were fascinated by the video and so Christmas Eve wore on. I gave Dick a copy of Robin's book which he said he would love to read. As I write this, it is now Christmas Day, 2007, and I slept till almost 1pm having worked on a crossword puzzle until about 2am. Rhoda is making a brisket. I had brunch consisting of a baked apple, 2 mallomars, and coffee. Such is life.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROBIN

Hi--Although my PC is still disabled, today is my daughter Robin's birthday, and so I'm determined to write this blog celebrating her achievements even tho' typing is a frustrating attempt. I cannot reveal her age, but suffice it to say, she can join AARP. She is an amazing daughter and one of my best poems. Her work career has exceeded all my expectations. She retired from the USMC as a Lt. Colonel. She was an Ass"t. Secretary of Labor in Daddy Bush's administration. She was appointed by Jeb Bush after her retirement as the Executive Director of the Florida Dep't. of Veterans' affairs. She was instrumental in getting a national cemetery approved for So. Florida. On her watch a Veteran's nursing home was built and opened in Ft. Lauderdale with her name on the plaque. She also has her name on a building in Oneonta Unversity--Robin Ross Higgins Hall--her Alma mater where she was awarded an honorary doctorate. Her husband, Col. Rich Higgins has his name on a guided missile destroyer, the USS HIGGINS. During the present Bush Administration, she was appointed as an Ass't. Secretary of the Dep't of Veterans' Affairs in charge of all the National Cemeteries in the United States. She normally lives now in Tallahassee, but she does have a house and a ranch in Montana where is currently celebrating her birthday and the the holidays with her friends, her neighbors, my granddaughter, Katrina, and Sophie, Robin's dog. What more can I say but HAPPY BIRTHDAY HONEY!