"There is but one good throw upon the dice, which is to throw them away." (Chatfield)

So that there will be no misunderstanding of the blog I wrote yesterday about sending articles, jokes, etc., if it's read carefully a friend who knows me and my interests will understand that they can feel free to send me anything they feel I would like to know about. Of course any photographs of gorgeous young ladies scampering about in the meadows, at the pool, or in the kitchen--or even elsewhere--with or without bathing suits, thongs, sleep wear or shoes will capture my attention. But try to remember that I'm in September.

Did you ever send an e-mail to someone or some company's customer service asking for advice about something you need to know, and get a reply that states you will receive a response "in 24 hours"? While waiting patiently at the PC's monitor, 25 hours have passed and still no response. Since your request was sent by e-mail, it could not have been put through the shredder. Perhaps the recycle bin? So, in frustration, you decide to use the telephone and after pressing "1 for English" (you're a true blue American, of course) you get a message from the "main menu" suggesting that you press another number from 1 to 18 (Chai). After listening to all the numbers, you've forgotten the one you need to press in order to get a live person who doesn't chant their English. Consequently, you just punch "Operator" over and over, and wouldn't you know it--a live person comes on wishing you a lovely day and asking what they can do for you. As it turns out, there is not a thing they can do for you, so they say they will switch you to a supervising technician. You are all a-twitter! You're getting some action. She says "Can you hold?" and you reply in the affirmative. After a few maddening minutes, you suddenly get a dial tone. Then you get a xanax.

"A friend is someone who dislikes the same people you dislike."

I'm beginning to find it exceedingly irksome--no maddening-- to be getting e-mails without end from friends that contain jokes or articles about politics, politicians, muslims, Israel, Yiddish, Immigration, the economy, taxation, Obama, Sarah Palin, W., Iraq, Iran, Yemensville, Afghanistan, or any other information that I can get for myself on the internet or in my newspaper. I do not want to be irked around anymore. Hear? Now I have many friends, some of whom are even dear, some of whom are mere acquaintances who, for some mysterious reason find it compelling to bombard my inbox with e-mails that have nothing whatsoever to do with themselves or their lives. I don't know if sending an original or forwarding an unoriginal e-mail of the kind I have cited to a friend does something for the ego of the person sending it--something like, "Oh, see what I found for you to read! I'm really puffed up about finding this joke/article/story and I'm really into it and I can't wait to get it into you to show you how into it I am.!" I don't think the internet was established for these kinds of e-mails. The garbage you get you can find all by yourself and it just disappears into your trash folder at once.

What I want from a friend is an e-mail about his daily life. How is he feeling? How's the spouse? Any news about the children or grandchildren? See any good movies or shows lately? Read any good books? How was the vacation, the cruise, the flight? However, I rarely if ever, get anything like these things. Now, I would love to share my friends' life experiences with them. I never send a joke. Ever. And rarely send an article unless I'm certain the recipient of my e-mail would have a special interest in reading it. If friends want to know about my own daily life, all they have to do is tune in to my blogs at www.homeoftheredbaron.blogspot.com and they'll find out what I'm doing with my life and what I think about things going on in the world. If a friend is interested in me, he'll find the blog. This, I believe, is the way to go on the internet. Of course, the news needn't be in a blog; it can be in an e-mail, but don't irk me any more with article after joke after article after joke after cartoon without any knowledge of the writer that comes anywhere in the mail except in the "From" box. I don't need to know who the crapola is from--I would like to know more about the "From". I'm not attempting to be "nosy"--I just don't want to be besieged anymore with a "Hey, Norm, look at this! and then pass it on, or you'll have 7 years bad luck." Yeah. Right. But at my age, I'll just take the 7 years!

"The reason so few good books are written is that so few people who can write know anything."

I don't know if it's a verifiable cause for a celebration, but this will be the 300th blog that I have written since August 2007. I cannot remember how I got into this blog writing thing. I didn't even know what a blog was. I'm still not sure. I hope it's legal and that "blog" is not a code word for porn. No matter. The fact is that I am still writing them, and now there are three books of these blogs published as "Pater Noster in Condoland." I suppose they can serve as an addenda or epilogue to my autobiography, "Memoirs of a Tail Gunner," available on any online bookstore. I think I found this blogging website somehow from "googling" and there it was ready for pen and ink--metaphorically speaking. If I had to write my memoirs and 300 blogs in pen and ink, they would never have gotten done. There are some pens in the house, but no ink--only Elmer's glue and some scotch tape.

Today, I went back into the archives and found a blog that dealt with the difference between working and retirement in terms of which was most boring. After a bit of editing, I emailed it in to the Sun-Sentinel as an article for their forum page. If it gets published, I'll be a star in Huntington Lakes. If not, I'll remain in obscurity--a famous unknown author. Since I can't keep writing blogs forever, I've decided to take my teaching out of mothballs and give a class of "Fun with Shakespeare" in January here in the TV room of our clubhouse. I'll examine for the class all the nuances I can find in "Hamlet," my favorite play and probably the greatest ever written except perhaps for the one I wrote in the third grade called "Brisket and Kashe Varniskes." No kidding. Unfortunately that play was never published and no longer exists. It vanished in the hands of Miss Garmere. At any rate, those who register for my class will have the advantage of a book that has a modern English version of the text on the opposite page of the Elizabethan version. I don't know if that's a good thing or not. Shakespeare's English is far, far superior to modern English. And I do not believe people when they claim that they could not understand Shakespeare in high school. They didn't try hard enough--they didn't work at it. In high school, you're supposed to work. It's a given. I will even prove to the class that they can surely understand Geoffrey Chaucer's middle English from the "Canterbury Tales." For example--from his Prologue: "Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, the droughte of March hath perced to the roote..." meaning "When that April with showers sweet has pierced the drought of March to the root." There; what's so hard? I prefer Chaucer. And so ends blog #300. I hope you've enjoyed some of them.

"I do not like the way the cards are shuffled, But yet I like the game and want to play." (Eugene Ware)

Well, here it is--December 1, beginning the final month of the year, 2008. This is usually the fun month what with Chanukah and Christmas to look forward to and Santa and lots of presents. Also it's the cruise month--especially for retirees. Rhoda and I are going on a 10 Day cruise to the Eastern Caribbean from December 17 to the 27th on the Holland American Line. Our ship will be the Noordam and we'll stop at St. Kitts, St. Lucia, Soufiere, Barbados, Martinique, and St. Thomas. I don't believe there is anything more relaxing than a cruise. You usually get a very interesting hotel-like room with a couch and a desk and a porthole where you can gaze at the ocean as you go by. In the room, you might read a book or magazine, do a crossword puzzle, write something if you choose or just nap on the bed while watching whatever TV offers on the sea. Then, of course, you can gamble if you wish at the slot machines or tables in the casino. You can sit on a lounge chair at the pool if that's your interest or have a drink in one of the night clubs. When lunch or dinner time comes around, there are the restaurants where you get top notch service and all the food you care to eat. After dinner you stroll down to the theater, find a comfortable seat and watch a show. With the show over, there are usually three or four clubs on the ship where you can loll around, do karaoke, and have a cool drink before you return to your cabin for a good night's sleep. Nothing to worry about on a cruise. All your troubles drop away from you like rain off a chicken. This will be my first cruise with a scooter. I will not have to walk the long distances from one end of the ship to the other. Using a scooter will be a new and weird experience for me--the marathon man. I am still not used to being so immobile as I find myself, and as I get around now with the use of a cane, I have to control the anger I have stirring around in my brain. But I suppose this condition is part of the territory of age.

It could be worse.

It's fortunate at this time that I can occupy myself observing with great interest how a new and exciting President elect goes about selecting those who will help him with some very difficult issues as he takes office. Senator Barack Obama is not letting any grass grow under his feet as he goes about picking his cabinet--those people who will help him to achieve the aims he has when he sits in the Oval Office. His most interesting appointment thus far is his choice for Secretary of State, a position that puts that person closer to the President than any of the others. Obama has chosen a former "enemy" of his, Hillary Clinton, both of whom threw plenty of barbs at each other during their campaigns to secure their nominations. I wonder, now, how they will get along and relate to each other at a very important hour in our country. Obama cannot afford to go too far to the left. Perhaps his most important duty is to make sure that when the two girls have sleepovers with their friends, that the girls get thoroughly checked for weapons. Firecrackers might be O.K., but pillow fights must be short and featherless. The first lady, Michelle Obama should be given a credit card so she can shop for clothing at least as expensive as the windfall given to Sarah Palin. The fact of the presidency I cannot fathom is his puny salary of $400,000 when athletic kids out of high school are given million dollar contracts just to play ball. The world is out of balance and fools have made it so.