Harleys, Cars, Girls & Guitars

The Economy: Nobody Knows What to Do

I don’t think anybody has a solution to pull us out of this financial crisis. Our politicians, bankers, lawyers and financiers created the mess. Ordinary citizens played a role, too, by taking on excessive debt and partying like crazy during the boom times.

If you want to understand how our brilliant credentialed class created the mortgage mess and the financial meltdown, I recommend reading Steve Sailer.

The way out? President Obama’s tsunami of spending hasn’t worked. Increasing taxes might help to reduce the Federal deficit, but it will kill jobs and reduce consumer spending. The Republicans and the Tea Party are probably correct in their insistence that the Fed needs to downsize and stop spending.

But, I doubt if any of these remedies will lead us back to prosperity. I think that only time will do that. The Fed cannot cut Social Security or Medicare because seniors are too dependent on those entitlements, especially with the depletion everybody has experienced in savings and assets.

I don’t trust either party. Both were in on the mortgage/financial scams. Neither party knows how to stop the offshoring of jobs. There is no political will to stop illegal immigration.

Boom and bust is the natural economic cycle. Booms create overconfidence, irresponsible spending and inadequate saving. The bust is a necessary correction. The last major bust was in the early 70s. Full recovery took 15 years.

I suspect the same cycle will play out again. Politicians don’t have any answers. Time will sort things out. For seniors, this is an unhappy reality. The recovery will not come in time for seniors to replenish their financial resources. We’re going to have to make do with what we’ve got.

Shouting Thomas Eats Asphalt

Big Joe and I were coasting downhill at about 20 mph when I hit a big pothole. I collapsed like a cheap umbrella and planted my face in the asphalt. Joe was riding just a few feet behind. He plowed into me and hit the pavement head first.

Started out as a great day for a bike ride. We planned to rip off 20 to 30 miles, with a stop for pizza at Brio’s in Phoenicia.

I don’t think I passed out. But, Joe was knocked cold for a couple of minutes. He was bleeding. It looked bad. Fortunately, we went down near a road construction crew. They dialed 911.

My shoulder hurt like hell. I knew Joe was hurt much worse. He was tangled up in his bike. The road crew tried to keep him from moving when he came to, but Joe jumped to his feet.

Woodstock and Shandaken dispatched ambulances. They arrived in a hurry, fit us with neck collars and strapped us on backboards. I declined the medivac helicopter. Joe took a flight to Albany. He had an egg sized boil on his temple,

Those last few blocks bouncing in the potholes along Broadway in Kingston sent shock waves of pain through my shoulder.

The RN gave me a morphine push and I floated away. The X-rays proved what I already knew… broken collar bone. Also got a chipped front tooth and a serious case of road rash. The tech fit me with a sling on my left arm.

My daughter held my hand in the emergency ward, then she drove me to Walmart to pick up my meds. I walked into the store clad in hospital gown and pants. Ready to appear in the next release of People of Walmart.

Big Joe has a cracked skull. He's spending the night at Albany. What a way to get out of rehearsal! We were scheduled to play with the Old Dogs tonight. We were going to learn some new tricks.

Tomorrow, I’m going to going to be in serious pain. Can’t wait to get out there and ride again.

Heat Stroke: Seniors Go Down Like Flies

I was on rescue squad duty all day yesterday. Temperatures near 100 again! We responded to one call after another of seniors suffering from dehydration and the effects of heat. Why is heat so hard on seniors?

Seniors worry about incontinence. What could be more humiliating that wetting your Depends? So, many seniors deliberately try to manage drinking water in a way that prevents the wet diaper syndrome.

I’m almost a senior, so I know. The urge to pee comes on very quickly. And, seniors know they’d better get to the bathroom in a hurry or they risk an accident. So, it’s not unusual for seniors to limit their water consumption in an effort to avoid accidents, especially overnight.

Certain medications lead to dehydration, and seniors are taking a lot of meds. Seniors on a lot of meds may also be suffering from declining mental competence. Forgetfulness ensues.

The dehydrated senior is probably our most common rescue squad call.

We gather them up from their homes or the sidewalks where they’ve collapsed, hustle them into the back of the ambulance, where the paramedics stick an IV in their arms and start the rehydration process. The hospital finishes the job and they’re back on the street in a few hours.

I drank six or seven bottles over the course of the day. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and dehydrated. I sat down at my dinner table and drank an entire pitcher of water.

Today, we’re hoping that rain cools things off.

Bike Ride Around Ashokan Reservoir

On the hottest day of the year, I set out from Woodstock and rode my bicycle around Ashokan Reservoir. This is one of New York City’s biggest sources of drinking water. The reservoir was constructed between 1905 and 1915. In the process quite a few towns were buried under as much as 190 feet of water. 

I rode along Route 375 out of Woodstock. After a short trek east on Route 28, I turned onto Route 28A and headed west all the way to Boiceville. Up Winnie Road to Wittenberg-Mt. Tremper Road to Bearsville. And, then Route 212 back to Woodstock. 34 miles! In 90 degree temperatures! Fortunately, I didn’t start until almost 5:30 p.m. By the time I pulled back into Woodstock, the sun was going down.

The original town of Olive Bridge lies buried under the water. Homes and farms were moved to a nearby location, to a town renamed Olivebridge. Eleven villages were displaced. Even the dead were exhumed and moved so that their remains would not contaminate the water supply.  The reservoir is mostly off-limits to locals. Some fishing is allowed. But no boating or swimming.

Tough ride! I sweated my ass off. Because of the heat, I rode a conservative 10 mph average. The ride is just about all uphill to Boiceville. My reward for busting my ass up the hill was the free ride back to Woodstock. The last 7 miles were almost entirely downhill.

Unbearably Hot Day in Chelsea

A client called me in today. I knew that New York City would be unbearably hot and humid, but what could I do? Work is scarce.  

Haven’t worked for a couple of months, so money is tight. I decided to park in Chelsea and walk to my client’s office on 34th Street and 7th Avenue.

If you know when alternate side of the street parking times change, you can park pretty easily in Manhattan. So, I arrived at just the right time and found a parking space on the street. Back in the old neighborhood where Myrna and I lived!

What used to be a commercial movie theater on 23rd St. has been converted into a showplace for the School of the Visual Arts, where I have both taken and taught classes.  The Tribeca Film Festival will have some showings there. I had to walk from 10th Avenue to 7th Avenue to catch the subway, and I started to melt along the way. God, it was hot! Best to walk on the shaded side of the street where it was 10 degrees cooler.

As usual, plenty has changed in my time away from Chelsea. It’s still a gay boy paradise. The Big Booty Bread Company is a new bakery.  What bakeries have to do with gaydom is anybody’s guess. Graphic presentation is a big part of commercial success for any business in Chelsea. And, of course, Big Booty offers that current hipster sensation, red velvet cupcakes! Check out the splash page graphic on the Big Booty site. It’s hilarious.

The Trailer Park Lounge & Grill seems to have a broader appeal.  As in, broads are welcome.  Camp homage to trashy cowboys and cowgirls is an ongoing theme in Chelsea and the Meat Market District.

The heat on the street was devastating. By the time I reached 7th Avenue, I realized that I wouldn’t gain much by taking the subway north for 10 blocks. So, I kept walking. This was a mistake.

By the time I reached my client’s offices, I was beat. I don’t remember much about my meeting. Should have driven right up to the office and paid $35 bucks to park for two hours. But, I was trying to save some money.

Things often work out this way in New York City. You’ve got to pay for everything. When you try to cut corners, the strategy usually backfires on you. I should have known better.

Hell, I could say that about a lot of things.

Talking Vaginas

Summer’s Eve’s new ads feature talking vaginas! How long before full nudity, including graphic displays of genitalia becomes common in media? I’m not one of those people who likes to rant that we’re headed to hell in a hand basket. But, you could make a case for it based on these ads.

Here’s the black version.

I’m not sure why Summer’s Eve decided to address vaginas by race. That sort of violates the current Diversity protocol, doesn’t it? Physical racial differences are supposed to be of no consequence. Of course, I might have that wrong. I haven’t attended a Diversity Training Seminar in more than 5 years, thank God!

Black girls want to avoid itching and get to the club fast!

Here’s the latino version of the ad campaign.

You’ll notice that the latino version pays homage to the latino girl’s propensity for producing babies and for wearing trashy leopard skin thongs!

Talk about stereotyping! We male chauvinist pigs have observed the racial differences among vaginas for centuries. And, we’re definitely interested in cleanliness down there. Well, most of us are. There is no kink that does not have enthusiasts.

Finally, here’s the white girl version.

No talk about babies for the white girls. It’s all about physical fitness and the gym… in other words, about self-absorption.  And, there's that other white girl obsession... girl friends.  No mention of the opposite sex.

When I was young, these ads would have been considered close to porn. They’re clever. They got the idea of the talking hand, I think, from Cartman’s Jennifer Lopez episode in South Park.

Oh, well… we’ll survive even this. Talking vaginas! How about equal time for penises!

Urban Dictionary… How to Cuss Good!

I’ve always been interested in keeping up with innovative trends in cussing. My friend, Trooper York keeps using bizarre dirty words I’ve never before encountered. Solution… look up the word or phrase in the Urban Dictionary.

The Urban Dictionary’s got it all! Trooper referred to a Cleveland Steamer in one of his latest post.   My God, the things people decide to do with their excrement! I thought that I was a pervert, but my sexual interests are remarkably tame compared to some people.

How about a Rugburn Rodeo: When a guy is doing a girl doggie-style and the girl gets rugburn on her knees from it. Mainly happens when the couple does it on a carpet. That’s one I’ve actually seen in real life.

You could easily spend an entire day rummaging through Urban Dictionary. The damned thing is almost as much fun as cussing in French.

Do any of my readers have a favorite cuss word or expression? Please tell me about it.

I'm working on my Fuckit List:  A list of people, male or female, you want to have sexual intercourse with before you die.  In my case, they're all female.  

Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Army Truck for Sale in Woodstock

This is a real head scratcher. This huge Army truck has been parked along Route 212 for a few days, advertised for sale at $5,000. Woodstock is not prime territory for selling anything related to weaponry. This behemoth looks like a gas guzzler too.

I really don’t even know what the damned thing is. Anybody got any idea? I wasn’t in the Army. I checked in craigslist, and the thing doesn’t seem to be listed.

The winch in front might come in handy for some good old boy work. But, the thing has a canvas top on the cab, which cannot be good for Woodstock winters. Plenty of rust.

What is this thing?

Mexico Tries to Ban Narcocorridos

The effort is failing. How do you defeat the incredible energy, and the brilliant music of the narcocorridos? Music defies propriety. The narcocorridos sing and write about the glamorous life of the “New Mafia,” the drug traffickers. El Komander is one of the best.

Good English translations of the narcocorridos’ songs are just about impossible to find. They’re probably unnecessary. If you watch the videos, you’ll get the message. Girls, automatic weapons, shitloads of cocaine, big fast cars! The songs are paeans to living fast, dying young and having a hell of a time on the way to the grave.

The incredibly great Los Tigres Del Norte sum it up in Jefe de Jefes (Boss of Bosses). You don’t need a translation for this song, but here is a very clumsy one. If you visit The Tigers’ English website, you’ll hear a lovely ballad that sounds almost Italian.

I love the carny, fiesta, mariachi sound of Los Tigres. Their accordion player is a monster. How can you not love them?

You want wild macho braggadocio?  You want crazy?  Then, listen to El Loko Enfermo (The Crazy Sicko) by Los Jefes Del Rancho (The Ranch Bosses):

I’d love to hear Los Tigres live. They must be incredibly exciting. But, the concerts might be a little rowdy, too. These are bad boys and girls. The action has moved south to Latin America.

Abdul the Painless Camel Castrator

My best friend in high school, Dana, told me this joke. Still cracks me up. Comes to mind because of the story this morning about the woman who chopped off her husband’s dick and threw it in the garbage disposal. Note: This joke is best told in a fake Arab accent, whatever you think that is.

Mohammed rode his favorite camel, Binky, into town and there, in a small lot, he saw a sign for “Abdul the Painless Camel Castrator.” Mohammed had been thinking of having Binky done for some time. Makes a camel easier to handle.

But, he loved Binky, and he couldn't bear to see him hurt.

So, Mohammed asked Abdul: “You’re absolutely certain this will be painless?”

“Absolutely guaranteed,” Abdul answered.

“How can you be so sure?” Mohammed demanded. “That seems like it would be really painful!”

“Don’t worry,” Abdul assured him. “It’s all in the technique.”

So Mohammed ponied up 10 shekels and Abdul went to work.

Abdul pulled out a huge pair of shears and sharpened them on a honing stone. Then he slowly approached Binky from behind, grabbed his testicles, and in one motion sliced them off.

Binky screamed and jumped five feet in the air. Mohammed watched in horror as the camel writhed on the sand.

“You told me it was painless!” he screamed at Abdul.

Oh, it is,” Abdul answered. “As long as you don’t get your fingers caught in the shears while you’re cutting, it’s absolutely painless.”

When I was in high school, I thought that was the funniest joke I’d ever heard. God bless you, Dana, I miss you. You always made me laugh.