Self Portrait: Me At 50

I must say, I find it very difficult to believe I am about to turn 50 years old. Its no great sin, I know, to ponder a certain age. Everyone has that one year where you are stunned that you and the number are as one. And, there are people out there reading this who will surrender there older age to just say they are 50. So, I am not searching for a solemn solace of sympathy. But, I am pondering how this person writing this blog made it to the promised land of half of a century........ My earliest memory is of a funeral procession. It was Robert Kennedy's day of rest, June 1968. I was all of two and a half years of age and wide-eyed at the spectacle playing out in front of me. Well, one of my eyes was open wide. My left eye. My right eye was born with the problem of ''lazy eye'', which means, it crossed. Not badly, but, noticeably. The eye was corrected through surgery. However, the vision was forever lost. My equilibrium has always been a problem with me, along with some nerve issues. Occasionally, I will get small tremors in my hands, which doctors have told me is because of my vision impairment. There is such little vision in my right eye, that if, God Forbid, I ever lost my left eye, I would be classified as blind........ But, the eyes saw a lot in my childhood and most of it was pleasant. I loved my family, and, was loved back, with the glaring exception of my brother, Tommy. I have written in other blog missives of the problems we had with each other. Still, those problems were a minor blemish on what was a nice time to be a kid. I was lucky, as were Tommy and my sister, Lisa. We had parents who loved us and sacrificed their lives for our lives. As I have gotten older, I realize what a gift I was given by them: the gift of love and caring. My neighborhood in the 1970's  represented the last bastion of two-parent households. There was very little divorce. Everyone came from the same background. Now, whether there was the same amount of love in the homes in my area I would not know. Probably, many went through motions of family love because they just wanted to keep up with the Joneses. Again, I was lucky. Ours was unconditional love of family. We weren't rich. My hometown, that sprawling metropolis known as Des Plaines, Illinois, was very rock-solid blue-collar. There was no talk of lake houses and new cars every year. There weren't guys and gals with very hip, WASP names. No, we were the meat-and-potatoes crowd, in-your face middle-class who watched out for each other. We played with the kids in the neighborhood well after dark without any fear of any pervert roaming the area looking for prey. You knew your neighbors by name. Streetlights would be blasting light as us kids played flashlight tag and Ding-Dong-Ditch. There was no sexual tension, no talk of drugs. No terrorism existed. You were allowed to be a kid, which is how it should be. Maybe, far back in our minds, we knew that the Big World Of Adults would be claiming us in their ranks as we got older. But, you are young, and with youth, comes a blissful and welcome innocence of spirit and actions. Arms were thrown cavalierly over shoulders when you posed for pictures [the trusty Kodak camera, folks!]. Youth and the joy of being young went breathing through our souls. Yes, a nice childhood indeed........ School, well, I guess I did OK at. I had a quick mind and I got pretty good grades. But, mostly, school was for fun with friends. I was a bit of a class cut-up. Never disrespectful. I was what the British called ''Cheeky'', which means I was a wise-ass with a charming smile to sooth over the class interruptions. The classroom wasn't my forum to entertain, I know now. The teachers ran the arena of the classroom. But, I couldn't help it when I saw a chance to put some spin of reality on whatever subject was being addressed. Looking back, these moments were my first stirrings of wanting to be an actor. I went for the attention of my peers and found it somewhat easily to gain. I would get a frown of disapproval from my teachers but, I also could not miss a turn of their heads a little. They gave a small smile of, I hope, appreciation for my efforts. I'm sure most of them are either very old now [teachers seemed to be older when I went to school] or, maybe, some have passed on. Wherever they are at now, I hope I was not a burden to them. I don't think I was. I wish I could thank them for putting up with me......... A strange thing happened to me when I was around 5 or 6. I began to feel a funny feeling around girls. It was a feeling I did not understand. But, it was a nice feeling. I wanted to be around them. Of course, I had no idea why. I just liked looking at them and being in their company. Now, with the brilliance of hindsight, I know I was already a horny little fuck..........The years of childhood blended nicely with the teenage years. Schools changed, the world changed even more. But, my family and friends were there, along with new people I would meet. Around 14, I had my first kiss. It came from a neighborhood girl named Kathy [who is now, sadly, long-dead]. It was a quick kiss on the lips, more to say that I had my first kiss than anything else. I recall her lips as soft and gentle. As was the moment. God Bless You, Kathy.......... High school ended and young adulthood came. In my early twenties, I decided to go with my dream of being an actor. As far back as I can recall, I always admired the ability of a performer, any performer. That is why I am a good, enthusiastic audience member. My sweat is with the performer onstage. I knew that I wasn't gonna be a Nicholson or Pacino. I never wanted the star life. Instead, I had hopes on being a steady, working actor, hopefully, doing good, solid work. I took the classes and pounded the pavement. I gave myself until I was thirty to crack the profession. If I did not, I would walk away from it with the knowledge that I tried. And, I did. While I did some shows, it hit that wall for me at thirty. I never considered it as failing because I TRIED. To me, to have a DREAM and not pursue it was a sort of failure. I never wanted to be old and look back on my life and ruefully mutter, ''I should have given acting a spin when I had the chance.'' Well, I had the chance and I would not trade those times and experiences for the world. I had a ball!!!! When you are onstage, there is no better high [no better word applies] that you cannot describe to those who have not tasted the potion of creativity. You feel your brain working at maximum potential, all of the juices of brainpower pumping your body, making you feel so alive. Sure, you bomb a lot of the time. And, when you do, you learn a valuable lesson. You do not die from public embarrassment. That is the ultimate human fear, besides disease, right? To fall on your face in front of strangers. Well, I have done it. And, you know what? I'm still standing, babe........ In my twenties, I hit the bars. That is a right of passage for a young, unattached male. You are finally let off the leash and you hit the ground running. Actually, I hit the nightlife so hard I'm not sure I ever let my feet touch the ground. Long nights and early sunrises greeted many a year in my twenties. Occasionally, there would be a relationship with a lovely lass [for their benefit, I will omit names]. Fun, wild times that gave me great joy and made me grow as a person. In the hustle and bustle of my Roaring Twenties, I would have a calm moment of reflection. I knew I was burning the candle at both ends. But, I was young and wild and free. I knew it would have to end sooner than later. It did when my thirties came calling. Along with cruel fate......... Tragedy does not play fair. It slinks into your life very quickly, the Unwelcome Intruder. I thought I knew about how cruel the world could be but I was as innocent as a baby when it did rear its ugly head. Cancer came to my Dad. Suicide to my brother. Dementia to my Grandmother. And, heart disease and kidney failure to my Mom. One by one, these lovely, kind, gentle people lined up in front of the firing squad of life's Fickle Finger Of Fate. I stood by helpless, as disease and death sucked the life out of those I held so dear. I cried to the Heavens, not so much for my own survival, but for theirs. But, the Heavens did not come to our family in white hero clothes. They came in the undertaker black of death. Sure, I knew I would lose my loved ones some time. However, I never thought it would be so swift and so cruelly. I grew into an adult in those years. The look in my eyes saw images and pain that will forever be seared into my soul. There is an old theory that after you look at death you are never the person again that you were before. This is true. I still find joy and fun in life. But, I look at the sunset differently now. I have a hardened edge to my life that I will carry with me until I die. During my thirties, the child died. Long may the adult live........ After I left acting, I had a bit of a problem. What the hell do I do with my life? I did sales for many years. My heart wasn't in it, though. You have to have a killer aggression to go after the money, which I did not possess. While I made a decent living, I never was the tiger. Nor did I want to be. I saw what it did to other people and I vowed to never corrupt my soul with the all-mighty dollar. Maybe, that was what was at the heart of me hating sales: I have never been driven by the dollar. Money has never meant much to me. If I pay my bills and I have some left over for fun, I consider myself a rich man. Don't get me wrong!!! I'm also not a lunkhead!!! If money does fall into my lap, I will gladly use it to have even more fun. Probably, with you, my dear reader!!!!!.......... Also in my thirties and in my forties, I found love a few times. As I have stated above, I will not use names. I am old-fashioned and believe in discretion in the affairs of the heart. The relationships with the women [ by the way, I have NEVER been unfaithful and I wear this badge of honor with pride!] ran the gamut of short-term and long-term. They all were with special women whom I know had to put up with my moods and personality quirks. I am forever grateful to ANY woman who is with me, for I am a man with faults. I have never claimed to be perfect, far from it. I have treated women well, though. Again, not perfect because we humans are not perfect and make errors. Hopefully, the errors I have made have not been costly. In time, for various reasons, the women moved on. They left me. But, I am not a man who has cruelty in his heart. Some relationships are only temporary. I will forever be fond of these women, these Angels who put up with the Devilish Jimmy........ In my forties, my body started to show its age. High blood pressure pills became my morning ritual, along with an alarming frequency of middle of the night trips to urinate. My stomach muscles exploded and there were genuine frightening times when I could barely see my genitals in the shower. Gray hair replaced the brown. Like everyone who advances in years, when I look in the mirror, I am shocked by my appearance. In my mind's eye, I still look 21. But, the cruel Mirror/Mirror on the wall kicks me in the teeth with a visual reality. Somewhere along the line, a second chin glued itself to my first. Hair sprouted in my ears [and, it is gray]. My legs ache a lot and I have lost my anal virginity with yearly prostate check-ups. So far, with the exception of the blood pressure, I am healthy. I just wish a lot of the energy I used to have would come back to me. It is somewhere out there in the universe. I just am too lazy to go find it......... In an example of the topsy-turvy way of life, I now work in a high school. I never would have conceived of this in my past years. To my complete surprise and delight, I enjoy it!!! Like any job, there are bad days. The good days top them, fortunately. I do not know how long it will last. I am enjoying the ride......... So, I am closing in on my fifties. Am I wiser? I hope so. Am I a different person than I was ten, twenty years ago? I hope so. I know I have mellowed a great deal. I think when you mellow that is another sign of learning life's lessons. I have more patience for things and people now than I had before. When I was younger, I was a young man in a hurry. Now, I do stop and smell the roses. And, I value all that I have gathered and lost. I have gathered a great deal of love around me from the family I have and the friends I know. They reward my life and fill me after all of these years with possibilities. I value those I have lost, more so, as the years roll on. They may be gone physically from me but they will always be in my heart. When I close my eyes I see them clearly, so close, I feel I can touch them. I remember faces, all of them fondly. I know they are waiting for me somewhere, just waiting to be reunited when it is time......... So, I end this blog and go forward to start playing the ''back nine'' of my life. I thank you all for being in my life, for taking this tour of life with me. All of you have gotten on this tour at various stops, enriching my life. I cannot thank you enough.......... Permit an old softie to express his heart: I LOVE YOU ALL!!!!!

Again

As I am writing this, there is fresh blood on the streets of Paris. ISIS apparently has struck again. The act of murder, which authorities are calling an act of terrorism, has reared its ugly face. At least, 100 people are dead. The toll will rise as bodies are found and victims will lose the fight for life. The images are appalling....... Gunmen standing up in a concert hall turning it into a death hall, randomly shooting innocent civilians out for a night on the town. There are reports that the gunfire went on for twenty minutes, as the bullets and the blood mingled in carnage. Some victims staggered to the ground only to be shot again in cold blood......... Across town, the horror continued. A soccer match became a bloodbath, with bombs blasting and victims screaming for life......More attackers spraying gunfire...... More blood....... More agony........ More madness......... The news is stating that there were several locations that were targets. A well-planned mass murder by the animals of ISIS. In the following days and weeks, more information will be coming forth, the story will become clearer and questions will be answered. I am writing this fresh, as it is happening. But, it has become an old story. We have seen this scenario played out before. Only the names and places have changed. The result is death........ Blissfully unaware of the endless danger we are all in everyday, we walk in our daily lives, only wanting to survive and not hurt ourselves or anyone else. We believe, or were taught to believe, that no human beings are completely evil, that there is goodness somewhere in our fellow human beings. There can't be bloodthirsty animals out there, right? There cannot be such Devils amongst us........ There are such Devils....... And, they seem to be growing in numbers as the years go on. They sprout freely, so it seems, almost effortlessly demanding to bring harm to us all because----, well, who really knows why? If we knew, we would be THEM, the scum that murder freely, rape children, and destroy human life without a second thought......... What we learned from 9/11 is that we will forever be in an endless war with irrational people. They are no longer OUT THERE, but are at OUR FRONT DOORS. We can hide and pray that this will never find us in our daily existence. But, that was the thinking today and tonight in Paris, as innocent people went out for a fun night on the town. They were, I'm thinking, mostly good people who fell to death. Tragedy always plays unfairly with life. Like a battle, some of the bravest die, some of the biggest bastards live on. But, the majority of the people who are in body bags now were good people, I will attest. They knew love. They knew fear. They had dreams that came true and had dreams still in the making. Their only crime was to think they could go out into the world and have a nice evening of fun. They found out that they could not......... That is the victory that terrorists can now claim for decades. The slowly eroding of public and private safety. No longer can we go forward with that innocence. It is gone forever, like the victims of today's madness. The dark cloud of death is a constant companion to us all. And, it is a most unwelcome one......... What can we do? Well, as history as shown us, violence and murder go hat-and-hand with human behavior. Fortunately, it still is a minority. But, it is a strong, loud minority. Hate drives the insane. Sadly, we can never eradicate pure evil....... But, we can, and should, fight it. We have in history, and it has been successful. As the World Wars of the 20th Century have demonstrated, countries around the world can band together to wipe out a Hitler. Today's version of Hitler is not one man but a whole ideology. It is based in the religious zealousness of Islam, a religion I have been told my whole life is peaceful. But, it has been my observation that it is not. I have never been a fan for organized religion, which I consider a cult of fury. I believe you can have a strong faith in whatever Almighty you choose to follow, as long as it does not do disservice to common sense and free thinking and open minds for those that do not agree with you. I believe in God. Do I have proof? No, it is an internal feeling of assuredness that there is something bigger than myself. However, I do not criticize those who feel the opposite of me. Free choice to believe what you want to believe. As long as it does not hurt someone else....... Islam hurts. Other organized religions do also, through brain-washing and religious bullying. I can never get around in my mind correctly the feeling of killing for God [or, Allah] in the name of salvation. But, the decades long terrorism problem is rooted in this and , it must be understood, Islam is its chief SOURCE.... I am a peaceful man. I always believe that going to battle should always be a last resort after all other peaceful options have been exhausted. Wars are usually fought by the young for the old to somehow benefit. This War On Terror [yes, Mr. Obama, it is, and should be, called this] is universal. The United States cannot fight this fight alone. Other countries must become our real Allies again, like we were when we fought Hitler, and try to contain [we will, lets face it, never wipe away] our enemies. We need a global agreement to band together to take care of each other. It is in our best interests to work side by side, hip to haunch, and go after the bad guys. Yes, there will be blood and mayhem, a lot of it. I'm not for killing for killing's sake---- that would make me a terrorist. But, a solution of unilateral force, however ugly it is to fathom, is our only option now...... If we don't, then expect more Paris tragedies to happen unchecked........ And, more body bags....... With people you know........

Random Thoughts November 2015

Three news stories recently have captured the headlines. All of them tragic in their own ways........ The strange and shocking disclosures of fallen Fox Lake police officer Lt. Joe Gliniewicz that has rocked the public. We all know that he died on duty. But, how was always foremost in everyone's mind. The rumors of it being a suicide started almost immediately, along with rumors of dirty pool in the activities of Gliniewicz. Now, we know the stories were true. Here was someone, at least on the surface, who appeared to be a heroic cop, someone the police force takes pride in. That he was no such person is a stunner. With each passing day comes new revelations---- threats to kill, extortion, sexual harassment, stealing---- all are making headlines. It can be safely said that this guy was no hero. He was a scumbag, someone who tarnished the good name of police officers everywhere. He is best forgotten from public view, a sad, black eye in law enforcement. However, what must be remembered about this story, is that in no way should his actions be attributed to the dealings of most police officers. For the past few years, the media, and several self-interest groups, have targeted police everywhere and are trying to paint cops as evil. Sensible people realize this is not true. But, there are many people living in the world who are not sensible people. They believe what the media, and some race hustlers like Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, tell them to believe. All cops are bad, so the haters say, so, there should be open warfare against them. The fact that police officers deal with the underbelly of human behavior is of no concern to those who have preconceived notions. And, so, police officers everywhere--- those heroes that walk in everyday life in danger so that we live a little more safer---- are under the microscope and on the defensive. Here is what I would say to the misguided who protest against law enforcement: all of you gather in a safe place. Then, we will all go down to the heart of the West Side of Chicago on a Friday or Saturday night around midnight. I will drop the protesters off at a unfamiliar corner. Now, you are on your own to survive. No police will come bail you out, because, you preach, they are the true enemy here. Try to survive. Try to get along without any law protection. And, hopefully, some sense will seep into their closed, hateful minds, and realize what the police--- and the behavior they put up with daily from some animals who dare to call themselves human beings---- really are about......... Which leads into the second story. It is the tale of Tyshawn Lee, the 9 year old boy who was lulled into a alley and shot in cold blood. By the accounts that have developed, it seems the little boy's father is a gang member, and so, it appears, that the boy was shot by a rival gang. This is beyond horrible. A little boy lying in blood. The father refuses to cooperate with the police [they are the enemy, remember] because that is the code of the street. The mother, who seems like a piece of shit herself, has taken the donations from a generous public and bought herself a new car because that was ''what Tyshawn would have wanted.'' Her justification is that the little boy would want his Mother to be safe and not ride public transportation. The fact that she bought the car only a few days after her son's death speaks to the type of woman she is---- uncaring, selfish, easily swayed from her ''grief'' by the largesse of green currency. Meanwhile, there will most likely be more bloodshed, if the ''code'' of the street among gang members will be exercised. Retribution will fall, along with more human bodies. The circle of muder goes round and round......... And, finally, Patrick Kane walks away from another incident unscathed. The District Attorney has decided to drop the investigation into the allegation of rape by a woman Kane picked up in a bar. The woman claims that she does not have the heart to go forward and press charges. Did she make the story up? Perhaps. There are the gold diggers out there that run after famous, rich people. She could be that type of woman and the D.A. saw this and declined any further involvement. Could the rape have happened? Perhaps. Kane has a history of violent behavior. Rumors of his rough treatment of women have become quite common conversation in these parts. The woman could have been raped but, because of pressure from his attorney--- and the Hawks organization--- she did not want to face the public backlash that, incredibly, rape victims incure from our faulty legal system and an unforgiving public that does not want their heroes tarnished. What happened that night is only known between those two. Kane denies it. The woman says it happened. What follows now should be an interesting telltale conclusion to this. If she was not raped [and, we hope she wasn't because no woman should have to go through the horrible trauma of sexual abuse] will the woman be prosecuted by the District Attorney's office for false charges and the money spent investigating her allegation? If she made this up, she should be prosecuted and rape support groups should call her out for her actions. And, if there is some compensation from Kane to her----basically, shutting her up by buying her promise not to prosecute him---- will Kane's worshipful public turn against him? After all, if one is innocent, you would scream to the heavens proclaiming it in the public court of opinion......... Donald Trump hosted ''SNL'' this past weekend. To say it was a trainwreck would be an insult to trainwrecks. I am not in the corner of Donald Trump, never have been. A recent blog by me explains why. But, entertainment shows are part of how we elect Presidents these days [imagine Lincoln, if he were alive, on ''Dancing With The Stars?'']. Trump was his usual gas bag self, a shameless and egotistical self-promoter who can be dangerous in some quarters. Even the most insane people occasionally spout common sense rhetoric. And, Trump, to give the Devil his due, knows how to sell the sizzle and not the steak. That is why his appearnce on ''SNL'' was much ballyhooed. But, it is not that he was bad--- he played himself, love him or hate him---- but, once again, how badly ''SNL'' has fallen from grace. Throughout the years, the show has gone up and down with quality, both from the performers and writers. Past casts would have made the Trump show work. They would have let Trump be himself, but, the show would have both applauded him and condemned him in one big swoop. Satire, the combination of reality mixed with a mean twist of humor, was what was needed. The current cast could not pull it off. Trump is a walking joke, so, there was no need to play up his public persona. Instead, what they should have done, was gone the other way and make him more bearable. It is like if everyone is waiting for a certain type of joke and you don't give it to them because that is the easy laugh. Instead, you feign left and go right, as they say in football, and go classy and highbrow. Why not a sketch where Trump is trying to cross the border with illegal Mexicans? Why not a song and dance number where Trump declares his love for Rosie O'Donnell? Why not a sketch where Trump is not really rich and has to work a second job at Wendy's as a night manager? There were many opportunities for the show to feign left and go right. But, they dropped the ball in the end zone....... I miss the Cubs. I haven't said that for years, since I was a teen. Yes, it was fun watching and cheering for them this past year. The fact that this team is good, very good, is why I am so high on them. Sure, they lost in the playoffs but who expected them to go that far? It wasn't luck that got them there but good, old-fashioned talent. And, this team is loaded with talent, perhaps, more than any other Cubs team in my lifetime. They will only get better. Now, the free agents out there see what they could be a part of if they come here to play next year. The selling tool for the Cubs is simple: come play with us and be a part of history. Unless the baseball experts are very wrong, this Cubs team, ably managed by the great Joe Madden, will be in the World Series soon, possibly, next year. The Cubs organization has the job of saying to whomever, ''the entire world will be watching. Not only will you be famous in baseball history but in history itself!'' The entire world will be rooting for the Cubs when they reach the Series. It will happen. Even the most die-hard White Sox fan must concede this to be true. But, in the meantime, I must wait, along with my fellow Cubs fans, a little longer. Its like waiting for a great meal that is being made. You smell the aromas, the taste is in your mouth. All that remains is the waiting for it to come out of the oven. Ah, the taste of victory will be so sweet........