Jon Stewart, Teacher.

I cannot believe he is done. 
Historically, (for me) this is up there with Cronkite retiring, the last episode of MASH, and a few other instances were an era of media ended that became a marker in my own life. 
All of us, everyday, deal with bullshit. My week was full of it, and I am sure yours was too. Many times, the bullshit overwhelmed(s) me. Most times, I could turn on Jon Stewart and he and his staff were able to detect, disassemble and explain what was underneath in a way that my brain might be able to do, if it weren’t plugged with day to day bullshit. And while doing so, make me actually laugh out loud (rather than type lol) while informing me of important things, a characteristic I associate not with comedy, but, with the best…….teachers….

Happy Trails, Sensei.—three-different-kinds-of-bulls–t

Thelma Florian, Mon Petit’ Mimi

All day long yesterday, my maternal grandmother was on my mind. Today it dawns on me that it was her birthday, and would have been 100 years old. She passed in May, 10 years ago. I gave her eulogy. It was one of the saddest days of my life, but I was proud to do it, especially since the room was packed, something you do not normally see when a person reaches nearly 90 years old, a testament to the love she brought in and gave out. I miss her daily in some small way, but, was blessed to have in many large ways. She was a huge part of what created the good parts of me, many of which I try my hardest to pass on to my sons. 
In my head I hear her singing Edith Piaf in her native French ( I had no clue at the time) or “Playmate, come out and play with me…..” She taught me to fish, taught me to shoot and to “not go out with a wet head or I’d catch a “cole” ( Nat King?)…

As I got older and drove to see her, she and my grandfather ( though she would outlive him by more than 20 years) would be sitting outside if the weather was good, flyswatters in hand and “there’s our boy” as I walked up. I can’t think of a more comforting thing to hear in my head. 

Whatever lies beyond is beyond my comprehension, however, experiences like this make me feel part of something larger. All through a subconscious memory of a tiny French woman 🙂

Thelma Florian. Mon Petit’ Mimi. ( I hope I got that right..

xo forever. 

That special parental anger

That special anger you feel when as a parent you hear of someone (a doctor in this case) hassling your kid never fades.
If anything, it intensifies, because as he grows up, I grow old and less able to be his ever-present advocate, knowing that my time here is winding down. 

Such is the cycle of things.

I am proud of you, Dean Massalsky Jr. 

The ShGrin: The poop face from infancy lives on into adult hood

That look babies get when they are pooping, a tight lipped, smile-like grin?

Why do people do that as adults when they do something stupid while driving? 

“Sorry…I was in a hurry….I obviously have to poop, and am barely containing it, so, outta my way…” 

Same thing happens at work when you pass someone you don’t really know and make awkward eye contact…they give The ShGrin…..
“Hi….Don’t know you well enough to talk or gesture, but here is what I look like when I need to poop…it will have to pass for a smile….”