back packing it

I now have a camera backpack. I haven't named him yet but I was thinking maybe Charlie would be nice. Charlie, as in Charlie Horse, a condition that I probably will avoid now that I have a backpack to carry my gear. I named my camera Steve and my car, Doug. Why not name a backpack, right? Thasneem got me this as my birthday present. We also went to the Jackson Diner for Indian lunch and to tell you the truth, I don't think I want to go back there for a long time. I'm bloated and had a terrible workout in the gym. I think my age has a lot to do with the bloat and my change in digestive efficiency. I have my Indian food at home--who has it better than me?

It's My birthday--so

It's my birthday--and it's also the birthday of several million other people I don't know. We make so much of our birthday, don't we? I know I can't keep it to myself when January 27th arrives--everyone eventually knows it's my birthday. So what's the big deal? We are born, we grow, and we have birthdays to celebrate the fact that we're alive. Maybe that's a good thing, when you think about it. I know I'm glad to be alive. I have the best wife a man could have, the best daughter, son-in-law and friends. So perhaps celebrating my birthday is justified. I just know that I'm not special any more than you are. I'm just here and have been here for 63 years as of today. Wow, that's a long long time.

Cretin Barrel

You've heard of Doctors Without Borders, now comes a new organization: Doctors Without Ethics. It's amazing how some people think that, because of their title, they have the wisdom and abilities to create miracles, not unlike the sky daddy I have yet to meet. I will mention no names, (you know who you are, but, unfortunately, you don't read my blog, nor do you read current medical journals, techniques, and new drug treatments), but you prescribe medications based on hunches and then don't follow up to see if your patient is still changing O2 into CO2. I think doctors, and many other so-called professionals, should have to undergo pop quizes every so often (like once a year or more), just to see if they know what they're doing. Of course, real estate professionals should be excused from this.

quality of life

I can't remember the last time I rode the New York City subway where someone didn't walk through the car asking for money to help the homeless, or sell candy "to stay off the streets," or to help buy food for a hungry family, or play mariachi music with a hat out at the end. I believe in charity, I really do, but this becomes a quality of life issue when you can't even read or relax without someone asking for the money you worked for to be given to them. There are homeless shelters, (I ran one for veterans), food programs, (I used to run one years ago), and welfare. Please don't come to me with your Air Jordans or Sean Jean shirt and ask me to give you money that I work my ass off to make. I would do anything not to have to ask you for your hard earned money--I would pick up deposit bottles if I had to, or clean houses, anything, but let me read my book in peace. Oh, and hey, stop asking me about my Kindle--get one for yourself and see if you like it--that'd be about 7,000 nickels.

Some Jewish kid on a flight from LaGuardia caused all kinds of security problems when he was putting on Tefillin, a Jewish leather thingy that goes around the arm seven times and has a squarish boxy wooden thingy that goes on the head. To the casual goyim, it looks like a mini bomb large enough to take down the kid and maybe singe the face of the guy sitting next to him. But in this age of fear and paranoia, well, it looks like a bomb with the type of high grade explosive that could take down Mount Fujii. In any case, why the hell do people have the need to pray in public places in public ways? I see people reading religious books on the train, moving their lips so god can know what they're saying (god's mom was a mute, I suspect), and we have to accept this because it's religion. This may be why we can't catch bin Laden--he's in a burqa and we think he's just a very tall woman. Since religion is a personal choice, made for us mostly by our parents, we should follow it in a personal, as opposed to public, way. Of course, we don't really want to do that, for if we did, we wouldn't dress funny or wear our hair in funny ways to tell our neighbors what we believe.

Haiti

I believe we wait for devastating disasters to react with our inborn humanity, to help those people affected by the horrors of nature. We react because of our understanding of our need to feel empowered to do something for those who underwent the wrath of living on this planet with the natural forces that can snuff out life in an instant. The irony is, we tend to be the snuffers.

Stardate 2010xlmpt

Another year is upon us and we celebrated the night before by drinking too much, laughing disproportionally to the amount of happiness there is in the world, and throwing up on our shoes and the shoes of our neighbor. Some lit off fireworks to emulate the sounds of war and the inspiration of our National Anthem. Some felt it necessary to engage in private activities to start the new year off "right." Others, like Thasneem and me, went to sleep at 10:00 pm and woke up early enough to get to the gym and have a nice workout. I think it's important that we make resolutions, but not necessarily on a particular day of the year where it becomes a sacred duty to break the promises we made to ourselves. If we resolve in earnest, not to allow our body to deteriorate, to exercise, to quit smoking, drinking, partying, etc., then perhaps we have a good chance in fulfilling this self-promise. If we do it on New Year's Day, we're tricking ourselves that we will make incredible change, like we trick ourselves that this new year will be wonderful--the wars will end, the hunger will cease, and we will all join hands and sing fucking Kumbayah. I don't think so. First we need to be nicer to each other, then just do it, dammit.