"Crabbed age and youth cannot live together: Youth is full of pleasance, age is full of care." (A Passionate Pilgrim...)

It's very windy out today, but so far there has been no rain. It's expected though. I hope it doesn't last until Thursday when Rho has her flight to New York--or Friday when Robin is flying here from Montana. Ike's passed us by, thanks be to whomever, but some wind and rain is expected. I took advantage of the current sunshine to go to IHOP for breakfast at 1:30pm again. I don't mind...slept until 11am. Before breakfast, however, I went to my bank to deposit a check for a CD I had redeemed and they told me that I could not draw fully on that check until Sept. 23! This check even came from another bank and I still have to wait two weeks for it to be available. Perhaps someone can explain this to me. I'm just now realizing that there are so many things that have to be explained to me before I have any understanding. For example, why are gas prices flirting with $4 a gallon? Why is the world pussyfooting with Iran? Maybe because only Israel is being threatened...so who cares? Why are so many people in this rich country without adequate health care? Why are food prices going sky high? Why are Annette and I consistently losing to Lou and Rho at Canasta? Why is Robin coming here at the same time Rho is leaving here? That's a curious and suspicious coincidence. Is it possible that Rho invited her here so there would be someone to put on my socks while she is gone? I purposely bought a pair of sandals so that I could go sockless. I questioned Rhoda about this and she vehemently denies having anything to do with Robin's suspicious visit. However, I don't want to leave anyone at all with the impression that I am not delighted that my daughter is coming. It's too rare that I get to see her, and just because I question the timing doesn't mean a thing. I'm allowed to question anything according to the Constitution and Jewish law.

Speaking of the law, one of the towns in Palm Beach County has passed an ordinance banning the display of one's boxer shorts or skin by lowering one's pants. This questionable fashion is really ugly. I, for one, do not care to see some guy's underwear...but I suppose it's a "cultural" practice. The ACLU is keeping an eye on the constitutionality of it. Apparently one can walk down the street in boxer shorts and not be arrested; but if your trousers are lowered enough to expose them, then they are subject to arrest. Several guys have already been fined for flouting the underwear law. Now, if a girl practiced this fashion, who would complain?

About this Presidential election again. I like John McCain. Seems like a nice enough guy and I imagine both he and Obama could make a good President, but as far as McCain is concerned-- this man is 73 years old and the oldest candidate ever. Those who have reached that milestone know what it feels like, and I don't know where or how Sen. McCain is going to preserve and protect the energy that will be required of the main man in the White House. And after 4 years, he'll be 76. Besides the fact of his age, he most certainly had to be traumatized by his experience as a POW in Viet Nam. Unless, of course, his treatment was not so bad as has been discussed in the media. He did refuse to leave--as he was allowed to do; and that's another thing that needs to be explained because I surely want to understand that. The man has to be suffering from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) which ailment would, as a matter of fact, affect his performance as President. I'm not trying to be political here--I simply want to understand the man. There are things I'd like to understand about Obama also...but that's another blog. I'm a few years over 73 and I don't have the energy to write any more today. And so I don't believe I could be President. Who'd vote for me?

"O! How full of briers is this working day world!" (As You Like It)

Today the pool therapy thing proved to be a big bust...like I've said in previous blogs, "Nothing works." No, I do not mean to imply that I went through the treatment and didn't get "cured." What happened is that we got a call from the Y this morning saying that the pool was "broken" and that it was hoped to be repaired by Friday, my next appointment. So, I went back to sleep and didn't get out of the bed until noon. By the time I took my medication, read the sports section and my e-mail it wasn't until 1:30pm that I had my breakfast. What a life! My next "job" was to proof read the City of Hope's newsletter. I'm responsible for that each time the newsletter comes out. I don't get paid, but hopefully I get "donor" credit. (I'm not sure what that is; except it's a female thing). But I'm certain it's something that cannot be deposited in your bank.

A brand, spanking, new library opened about a month ago, here on Hagen Ranch Rd. right nearby. I guess Rhoda could walk there. She loves books and libraries. I went over there and gave them a copy of "Memoirs" to put on a shelf, since I do live in the neighborhood. I haven't any idea of what's happened to it. I guess I'll go over there one day and check on it. If it hasn't reached a shelf, I'll retrieve it and donate it to some other poor library. I don't know how they can call it a "library" if it doesn't have a copy of my book. Actually, I just published a new version of it: a black and white copy with grandson Adam's designed cover and dedicated to my unit in Dunkeswell, Fleet Air Wing 7, and to Hal Mack, the only other living member of my air crew. The other copy with Adam's cover has the same text, but all the images are in full color. There is also an 8x10 Memoir with a hard cover--also in full color, but it costs about 60 bucks. It has only sold one copy--I own it. But some people are buying the book and the proof is that I recently got a royalty check! What a life! ...

Well, Ike has taken a left turn away from these parts and it looks as though Rhoda will make her flight to New York after all. She wants to visit her granddaughters...and who can blame her. She is leaving on Thursday and returning on Monday--a week from today. Following that event, and speaking of granddaughters, Robin is coming here on Friday and leaving next Tuesday--by all standards, a lengthy stay. I'm not sure what we are going to do; I don't think she likes casinos, and she's not an avid movie goer...so I don't know what's left...except eating and talking. We certainly are not going to talk politics, since I don't believe she is going for Obama and OBiden. I can't blame her if she votes Republican; I fully understand where she is coming from. After all, Jeb gave her the top VA job in Florida, and his bro made her an Undersecretary of the VA for Memorial Affairs. And daddy Bush was quite supportive of her when she lost her husband, Rich to terrorists in Lebanon. He even mentions her in his book. Can't blame her for being loyal. Loyalty is a good thing. Even Aristotle would agree in his "Golden Mean". Disloyalty is an extreme deception of sorts; adoration is an extreme conception of sorts; but loyalty is a golden good. Am I wrong? Nah.

"How poor are they who have no patience! What wound did ever heal but by degrees." (Othello)

Tomorrow is the day I start my water therapy. I'll have a therapist march me across the YMCA pool and then march me back. Well, I'm just guessing about that. Maybe I'll have to do it myself...and I don't know how many times. I do know when I first came to Florida, I used to swim 80 laps every day in our clubhouse pool. I measured it off and 80 laps equaled one mile. I hope they don't have me walk 80 laps now. I'll probably require oxygen. Yesterday, Rhoda and I went to Sports Authority to find a pair of pool shoes. I never even heard of pool shoes until I learned it would be required of me at the Y. When I first came down here, I got a job in the summer as a swimming instructor at St. Andrews. I had a Red Cross instructors badge. Bob Beamon was also a counselor at that camp. He once broke the world record for the long jump in the Olympics...29 feet. It would take a normal person about 3 jumps to get that far. Well, we finally found a pair of pool shoes. They had little holes in them, I imagine to let the water out. It'll take me an hour to put them on. You ask "Why are you taking this water therapy?" My answer is I haven't a clue. I suppose it's because I'm not walking straight, and I have no balance. I know when I walk, I look like a drunken sailor. I told the therapist at the evaluation last week that I have no faith in the process...but we'll see. One of my readers--Phil B., the Governor of Gutenberg, N.J., wrote a comment to my previous blog that he is happy I am doing this. He's not the only one...so I'm doing it to make everyone happy.


In order to be allowed in this pool, however, you're not supposed to have any open wounds on your legs that might bleed...and I have several. In fact, until today, I had six band aids on my body, three of which were covering squamous cell casanovas which my Germatologist removed after biopsies showed two casanovas on my arms and one on my right leg. Not only do I have these casanovas, but several other ailments; to wit--Intermittons Claudication which causes severe pain in my legs after walking a few yards; PTSD which you suffer from after severe experiences in a war; Angelo Fibrillation, commonly known as A-Fib. Because of this one, I've had a pacemaker implanted in my chest. My Newroligist says I have "newropathy"--which means under both feet it feels as though I'm walking on a lump in each foot. My Orthopenis says I have "spinal stenosis" which doesn't really bother me until I try to lift something heavy. Finally, I have COPD--Chronic Obstructive Pulmonmary Decease. For this, I have a "puffer" which I use when I'm out of breath. Right now, though, I'm about out of words.

IKE

It's a frustrating time now; Rhoda is expecting to go to New York on Thursday and Robin is expected to visit here on Friday--so is Ike. All we can do now is sit and wait around to see what happens. If Ike veers off and goes somewhere else, we'll be OK. I'm supposed to start my water therapy on Monday and then on Friday when Robin comes in. I'll pick her up at the Boca Raton Airport and then we'll decide on a place for dinner. I don't know if she's coming in from Montana or Tallahassee. I suspect I'll find out.

As for IKE, I don't fondly remember Hurricane Wilma that came here a couple/few years ago. It's something I don't want to experience again. We were nine days without power. Luckily, the weather was cool so we didn't really miss the air conditioner very much. Of course, there was no food in the fridge and only canned stuff in the pantry. We had a big cooler, but finding ice was like looking for gold. The front side of the cane was bad enough, but the back side was a killer. There were about 60 cars in one of the parking lots that had every window broken from pebbles blown off the roofs of the condos. We also lost about 200 trees, some of which still haven't been replaced. If we can get out in time, next time a hurricane is imminent here, Rho and I will be heading North. I realize this blog is short and boring, but right now, I have very little else to say.

WATER THERAPY? IS IT THE SAME AS THE WATER BOARD?

Last week my primary internist gave me a prescription which was for "water rehab" that he insisted I try out. So, today we went to the Bethesda Hospital rehab center at a YMCA in Boynton Beach that has a swimming pool they use for water therapy. Which means, I suppose that they teach you to walk on water. This should make Phil B. and JR happy that their dreams have come true. But today was simply for an evaluation of how serious my symptoms are, etc. and I start this therapy on September 8 and then every Monday & Friday. The pool is about 1000 ft. from the front door, and since I can only walk about 6 inches, there will be a wheelchair provided but no one to push it when I get in. So, I'll have to motor it to the pool on arm power of which there is not much left. If I can only use one arm to propel the chair, it means I will take a long time to get to the pool because with one arm, the chair will be propelled into a circle. This should get very interesting.

Continuing the fruitless debate about the right to express an opinion, but no right to respect for it if people disagree with it, (in my opinion, with which you don't have to agree; therefore you don't have to respect). Notice how in the last convoluted parenthetical phrase, I discretely avoided ending my sentence with a preposition. But finallly (I hope), Webster's definition of "respect" is as follows: "a: esteem b: the quality or state of being esteemed; high or special regard." Now, then, esteeming someone's opinion if you don't agree with it, having "high or special regard" for it seems silly--it's an oxymoron. Now if you really want to be "disrespectful" say "I don't agree with your opinion; it sucks to high heaven; and with that opinion, you should be arrested. Please don't bother me any more; I have to find pool shoes and a bathing suit."

LABOR DAY 1952 to LABOR DAY 2008

1952 was a year not much different from this. There was an important election and since Harry Truman chose not to run, the Democratic Party chose an intellectual whose name was Adlai Stevenson. His adversary in the Republican Party was the popular war hero, General Dwight Eisenhower who won the election in a landslide. I imagine the country wasn't quite ready for an intellectual. We're still not. John McCain graduated from the Naval Academy 894 out of a class of 899. Eisenhower's selection for Vice President was Richard Nixon, and we know his history. Coincidentally we were in a war in Korea for two years in 1952 and Americans were tired of having their sons killed in a war they didn't understand. Also, Joseph McCarthy was busy hunting communists and spies in the entertainment industry and everywhere else while the country was in the "cold war" with Russia.

I was due to start teaching right after Labor Day in 1952 so the wife and I got two babes into the car and drove from the Bronx to South Orange, New Jersey. We did find an apartment we could afford there. It was in an attic that was at the top of a very long flight of about 75 crooked and rickety stairs. When we finally arrived up there without the benefit of oxygen or a Sherpa, we found that the floor in the living room was somewhat tilted toward the kitchen, and that if you weren't careful, you could slip and slide all across the room into the kitchen stove. It would help if you wore golf shoes with spikes. But this was the best place we could find on our limited budget. And so it was on Labor Day, 1952 that we left the Bronx forever. The bad news on that day was that there was a torrential rainstorm and driving was quite hazardous. But we arrived safely and we each carried a kid perilously up the stairs. And while I was climbing this long flight with Robin, age 2, in my arms, I kept thinking of the myth of Sisyphus, a character in Greek mythology who, because of his wicked deeds, was sentenced in Hades perpetually to roll a large boulder up a mountain peak, only to have it eternally roll back down into a valley. And that's how long and terrifying this climb into our apartment seemed to be; and how my life seemed to be up until that moment. I vowed never to let Robin roll back down those stairs.

But now on Labor Day, 2008 Robin is no longer a babe, and she could climb those stairs better than I can at the moment because my age has made me immobile. But, at least my brain is still mobile and I need to use it now to clarify a position or an issue that I brought up in a prior blog. It is now an election year as important...or more...than that in 1952. A military man, an American hero is, again, a candidate for one party, and a bright, articulate African American is the candidate for the other party. It is a year when citizens must debate the merits of each candidate and listen to, watch, and read all they can about each of them in order to cast a responsible vote--a vote that will put the right man in office--a man who will lead this country in a new and better direction than the man who is currently in office. I said previously that I believe every person has a Constitutional right to express an opinion--not only on the election, but on any subject. But, (and please try to understand this) I don't believe a person has any Constitutional right or any other kind of right to have his opinion respected. Get it? If you don't like someone's opinion you can disrespect it. A person might say, "At least respect my opinion." I say, "Nah!" State your opinion, but don't expect me to like it if I don't like it. Why be dishonest with yourself -- or your friend.

Anyway, Happy Labor Day!

Key West

We have returned from our mini-vacation to Key West and we really had a very nice relaxing few days. We started out on Tuesday and stopped at the ISLE casino for a couple of hours where I won $275 on the slot machines. I'm an expert slot machiner. We did lunch in the deli on the premises. I had a triple decker sandwich with pastrami, corned beef, turkey, cole slaw, & Russian dressing. And for dessert there was this lovely slice of chocolate checkerboard cake. We left there about 3pm and drove to Key Largo. We stayed one night at the Marriott Resort Hotel which was right on the Gulf of Mexico. We had dinner at the restaurant there and then went on our way to Key West. We stayed at the Crown Plaza La Concha Hotel right on Duval Street...the street in Key West with all of the "action". Our first night there we went to a sea food restaurant where they were serving all-you-can-eat King Crab legs. I must have devoured two pound of them. Where were you Bobby? In the evening, Rhoda and a bell hop set up my scooter and we went up and down the street looking into the quaint shops. Robin we discovered a store selling the soft fabric great t-shirts you had sent to us. I bought one that said "Renaissance Man" and a blue one that said "Life is Good." Rhoda bought one that said "Positive Altitude" and another that also said "Life is Good." The name of the store is Jake's Key. For the cost of a t-shirt, we could have had a good lobster dinner.

On Thursday we bought tickets to a trolley tour of the city. The trolley made about 12 different stops along the way and you could get off and go to a museum or whatever and get back on another trolley which came every 15 minutes. Rho got off in Mallory Square, sat me down in a cool mall while she went to the Truman House nearby. I ordered an orange frosty and waited at the same bench for her to return in about an hour's time. I didn't go with her because now I simply can't walk more that a few yards. If we could have gotten the scooter on the trolley, it would have been a different story. That night we went to an Italian restaurant a short distance from the hotel and had an elegant dinner which was hard to believe. Then later that night we heard Obama make his acceptance speech which was astounding. Even more astounding was McCain's choice of a Vice President whose claim to fame is that she was once a mayor of a small town. Talk about a "lack of experience"! NowJohn is a nice man but is over 70 and if he should die in his sleep imagine who would be Commander-in-Chief. Ohmygod!

Phil B. and Robin left comments on my blog of August 23rd, and Robin disagrees with my position on whether you need to respect the opinion of someone debating candidates or the issues with you. How can you respect his/her opinion if you disagree with it or even detest it? Surely, as I've said, you can respect the right of someone to have and to express an opinion, but that's not the same thing. The fact of the matter is that Robin never expresses an opinion anyway so there is nothing to discuss or respect. The email article from Defenders of the Wildlife Action Fund was not vicious and somewhat innocuous...written by someone who does not like Palin's position on wildlife issues and says so. What's wrong with that? In her comment, Robin said she was offended by that e-mail. But, of course, never said why.