Posted on May 13, 2005
This was written by Andy Rooney from CBS 60 Minutes. Andy Rooney says:
As I grow in age, I value women who are over 30 most of all. Here are just a few reasons why:
A woman over 30 will never wake you in the middle of the night to ask, “What are you thinking?” She doesn’t care what you think. If a woman over 30 doesn’t want to watch the game, she doesn’t sit around whining about it. She does something she wants to do. And, it’s usually something more interesting. A woman over 30 knows herself well enough to be assured in who she is, what she is, what she wants and from whom. Few women past the age of 30 give a damn what you might think about her or what she’s doing. Women over 30 are dignified. They seldom have a screaming match with you at the opera or in the middle of an expensive restaurant. Of course, if you deserve it, they won’t hesitate to shoot you, if they think they can get away with it.
Older women are generous with praise, often undeserved. They know what it’s like to be unappreciated. A woman over 30 has the self-assurance to introduce you to her women friends. A younger woman with a man will often ignore even her best friend because she doesn’t trust the guy with other women. Women over 30 couldn’t care less if you’re attracted to her friends because she knows her friends won’t betray her. Women get psychic as they age. You never have to confess your sins to a woman over 30. They always know. A woman over 30 looks good wearing bright red lipstick. This is not true of younger women. Once you get past a wrinkle or two, a woman over 30 is far sexier than her younger counterpart. Older women are forthright and honest. They’ll tell you right off if you are a jerk if you are acting like one! You don’t ever have to wonder where you stand with her.
Yes, we praise women over 30 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it’s not reciprocal. For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman, 30+, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-year-old waitress.
Ladies, I apologize. For all those men who say, “Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free”. Here’s an update for you. Nowadays 80% of women are against marriage, why? Because women realize it’s not worth buying an entire Pig, just to get a little sausage.
Posted on May 12, 2005
I have many many of these but city dwelling vs the ‘burbs is the worst. I live 6 miles from downtown and savor the space, sunsets, safety, and solitude. I work in downtown and feed off the energy, convenience, architecture, and history. Both have their vantage points, both are desirable until…. “Hey buddy, what the f*** are doing walking in front of my car!” For the third time today, another hostile punk with an attitude deliberately and carelessly jaywalks in front of me. For a driver, nothing could be more annoying. To the extent that this idiot’s life may be completely “out of control”, he’s found a way of controlling mine! For all the miles I put on in a day, hundreds and hundreds, this obnoxious act of defiance happens only in the inner city. I try to use psychiology to explain away the actions of these disenfranchised headstrong youth so I can just let it lie. I also feign a look of compassion and understanding as if – “oh, sure, it’s ok, no big deal, I nearly broadsided your butt but that’s alright, you go right ahead and take the road, after all, pedestrians have the right away”. The apathetic jerk shuffles his feet, one-by-one, slowly and nonchalantly, not giving a damn that I’m pulling from my arsenal of psychiology tricks to keep me from slamming on the accelerator. Here’s the hook, I can’t do it anymore! Trying to justify incivility and the inconsistent behavoirs of others is giving me an ulcer and maybe this is why I’m better off in a confines of a wooded sanctuary. Also, I can’t look away when I see a desperate homeless guy scraping for a dime or a single teen mom yanking the sleeve of her 4-year old while pushing a baby carriage with 2. Try as I might to poetically paint these scenes as “snapshots of cosmopolitian living”, poverty and unplanned pregnancy is not pretty and it is preventable. The passionate liberal side of me wants to help but my conservative teutonic nature, the one I grew up with (danke frau mutti), wants to literally scream sense into these unfortunates. In the end, it’s a love-hate relationship and there’s nothing I can do about it but keep driving.
Posted on May 11, 2005
I’m no musician but if Alternative Radio’s Noam Chomsky can endorse it, then it has to have potential. It’s called WAV, a hip new music rag with an accompaning website that features free samples of the listening stuff. How can I resist? I have this terrible weakness for first issue glossy music magazines. Somehow I’ll justify this expense by letting all my musicians friends borrow it, as if they have time to read! Too busy themselves recording. Believe or not, NPR (National Public Radio) has become a library of progressive college-indie segue music. I heard clips from Modest Mouse, Roxy Music and Thievery Corporation the other day. Nearly drove off the road. Ever since buying into XM a few months ago, rarely do I listen to talk radio, but when I do, I’m always amazed at the breadth of underground finds; again, all accessible from their website. The days of calling a radio station and requesting the name of a tune that just aired, are over. Anybody can find rare and foreign beats heard anywhere from a :30 commercial to a lengthy film series. I was even able to hunt down an exclusive track from a NOVA program about Madagascar, Crocs, and Lemurs last night! How about that.
Posted on May 9, 2005
“Left side, Mike, back paddle, back paddle!” yells our WhiteWater Rafting Guide. In rough waters, like these though, hapless Mike, Vietnam Vet, who’s positioned in the front of the craft, is completely deaf to Bob’s instructions. The waves crash over and over and the raft goes circling into a tailspin lost in an eddie at the bottom of a hydraulic hole. That’s rafting vernacular and today’s adventure has taken me into the heart of the Adirondacks with a few fearless friends from the YMCA. There’s only 3 of us plus our guide, in a boat built for 8, so we have our work cut out for us. This stretch of the Indian River has steep banks with tall cedar trees growing on each side and huge iron ore and granite cliffs. “Great for rock climbing” I think to myself as I my confidence grows tackling another huge “lateral” and “pool-drop”. This river has a huge dam that lets loose tons of thousand pounds of water increasing the CFS, cubic feet per second, on steep gradients and upping the river rating to “4”. Based on a scale of 1-6, 4 can be a true challenge for novices like us. I made the mistake of hurling a shovel over my head for 3 hours the day before (lawn work) so my upper body strength is a disgrace. It’s still a cold time of the year to be battling 40 degree rapids so we’re all dressed in matching neoprene wetsuits and polypro. Our ugly pink helmuts ruin the effect of an otherwise attractive looking bunch, but, no matter, we’re there to tame the Indian, all 17 miles of her, do-able for some in less than 5 hours, it takes us 4. The best part about whitewater rafting, other than being outside, is experiencing the thrills and chills of a sport that your in complete control of. Exhausted, cold and dripping wet from head to toe, my team of 3 plus guide exit the river with a new license on life and a few more smile lines to add to our parched and weathered faces.
Posted on May 6, 2005
A trail of dust and tracks was all that was left behind as we raced through God’s country on our way to find the Microwave Truck. We’d been stationed somewhere in the lower Adirondacks with a “wife-shot-husband-dead” late breaking news story. For hours we waited at the bottom of the victim’s driveway, like vultures circling their prey, watching State Police, Investigators, and Sheriff Patrols come and go from the small clapboard crime scene. Neighbors knew little about the recluse couple, other than the 58 year old former Schenectady Cop and Marine, may have had a history of domestic abuse. With no more than 2 to 3 hundred people in Wells, ask enough towns folk though and your bound to discover the victim was not a good man and probably had what was coming to him. A few years ago, when he was a cop, he somehow got away with not working for 15 years and still collected a paycheck. Some would call that crafty and cunning, the law calls it a crime. “This is a dead-end road!” my reporter screams. I throw the Subura into reverse and burn rubber on unpaved gravel. Is that possible? We have 5 minutes left to find a Microwave Truck that’s parked at high altitude to reach distant microwave towers for a signal back to headquarters. Cell phones are of no use secluded backwoods like these. I hail down a rusted-out pickup with yellow soldier stickers and 2 grissly looking passengers. “Can you quickly tell me where King Road is fellas? “Right over yonder…see, what you want to do is…” I don’t let them explain — “right over yonder” is all I need. My navigational prowess kicks in as I instinctively know where higher ground lies. Thank God there are no deer crossings or children around the bend because I’m driving at speeds where a crash is inevietable. Josh, the truck op and Chris, my back-up camera guy, jump into position as I race to cut scraps of video tied in with DA soundbite. With seconds to spare my reporter is live at 5:02, calm, cool, and collected…but she stumbles at the very end….”Reporting live from…from…from somewhere, this is Judy Sanders”. Yah, where are the hell are we?
Posted on May 3, 2005
The More They Stay The Same! This week’s news stories are proving that theory truer than ever! I didn’t pay much attention because I was too young, but when John Lennon, music lyricist, poet and activist, was assissinated on December 8, 1980, I remember it being a big deal. I remember too that the arms race between the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. was another big deal because of Sting’s Russian’s lyrics. Then, when I was 16, unsure of my political persuasions and too nieve to know better (still guilty of that) I sided with the sweet, innocent-looking, boyish-charm of Oliver North. This week, North Korea test fired a missile into the Sea of Japan, political protests gathered in NYC at the UN, and Sting released a wonderful collection of music used in movie soundtracks – many being political. Ironic? I would say not. It’s all cyclical, not cynical, but cyclical. The mantra – “what comes around, goes around” is true and as much as I want to beleive in the political process, economic growth for all, and society to be ever-evolving, it’s not and it won’t ever. Last Sunday, several busloads of locals from the Bethelehem area gathered in NYC for the March and Rally to Demand Global Disarmament at UN headquarters. 40,000 protesters, including some neighborhoods of mine from the Bethlehem Neighbors for Peace (BNP) formed part of the peace symbol in Central Park. It really was incredible if you saw the aerial shot in the paper. The BNP is an organization of concerned members working for peace through diplomatic solutions, believing war is NOT the answer and voicing dissent with the Iraq war and other agendas. Of course, I beleive all that to be good, wholesome and ethical constructive but productive? Hhmmmm… I read Mother Jones, recycle, and avoid shopping at Walmart as best as I can, but does it help? Does anything ever really help? May marks the beginning of Mental Health Awareness Month and the National Alliance of Mentally Ill will again be pushing for the passing of the Mental Health Insurance Parity Bill. With almost 25% of our population suffering from some form of M.I., Parity is so important in preventing deaths and yet NY is not among the 19 states that have passed it. Even with major advocacy, it’s not likely they ever will. Ok, Ok, I AM A CYNIC, — I strayed away from that in 2004 but the cyclical tide is sweeping me back into the deep, after all, the more things change, the more they stay the same!