Femmes Fatales

I read in the news today that a man from Strafford, Connecticut was brought to a hospital for a psychiatric evaluation “after he led authorities on a high-speed chase and then claimed to be Vice President Dick Cheney”.

This guy does not need a psychiatric evaluation. Anyone who would claim to be Dick Cheney, including Dick Cheney, is obliviously insane and should go directly to a mental ward.

“He later admitted he wasn't Cheney but said he was actually "Charlie's Angels" star Jaclyn Smith, police said that he also claimed to be the husband of Paris Hilton's sister.” Is this guy “Loony Tunes” or what? First he’s the Vice President and now he is in a lesbian relationship with Nikki Hilton.

I can see wanting to be Jaclyn Smith, she is still gorgeous for an older woman and has tons of bucks. But being married to Nikki Hilton is a scary thought. Not that she is unattractive, but for God’s sake; she is Paris Hilton’s sister. She is a member of the Hilton family. The entire Hilton family is a little out of kilter. I blame this all on Liz Taylor, whose first husband was Conrad "Nicky" Hilton.

Elizabeth Taylor has been married eight times to seven husbands, twice to the late actor Richard Burton. Obviously Burton was a glutton for punishment. She has destroyed the men in her life, sending some of them to an early grave. She also destroyed Montgomery Cliff, who became a homosexual. He never married Taylor, but just spending a lot of time with her tends to drive men crazy.

When I was young I never had a crush on Liz. My boyhood crush was on Marilyn Monroe. At age fourteen I went to see her in “Some Like it Hot” ten times in two weeks. I still have newspaper clippings from the day after she died in 1962. That's a big crush.

Marilyn was also a woman that drove men crazy. One of the greatest Baseball players ever, Joltin’ Joe DiMaggio, was never the same after being with Marilyn. When she died he went to pieces. “Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio”? I’ve read that until his death in 1999 he would either place on, or send flowers to, Marilyn’s grave twice a week.

Then there was Clark Gable. I liked Clark; he, like John Wayne, always played those real he-man roles but still could show a more tender side. Women loved him and men admired him. Marilyn not only drove him crazy, she gave him a heart attack.

One of my favorite American Author’s (Playwright) Arthur Miller went crazy because of Marilyn. If you have ever seen or read “After the Fall” you’ll know what I am speaking about.

Last, but not least, was Marilyn’s relationship John F. Kennedy. His affair with her could have cost him re-election. Everyone loved Jackie Kennedy. He would have been doomed if the public found out about his relationship with Marilyn. Is this crazy or what?

Unfortunately he didn’t live to see the possibility of his re-election. I admired JFK. Years later when I found out about his relationship with Marilyn Monroe, I thought “way to go Johnny”.

I’m glad that I was too young to get involved with either Marilyn or Liz. I would probably be crazier than I am today. I might even be that guy in the psychiatric ward in Connecticut, or worst yet possibly dead.

The Beach Bum

Maybe This Year

In just four days the Chicago Cubs will play their season opener in Cincinnati. Yes I am, unfortunately, a die hard Cubs fan. One of those guys who always thinks, at the beginning of each Major League Baseball season, that “this will be the year”. And then when the season ends in the fall, I’ll always say “maybe next year”.

Cub fans are always optimists at the beginning of the season. I am basically a pessimist, I look at the glass being half empty. As strange as it seems, I become an optimist every spring just before opening day. I love to watch baseball and I love my Cubs. I just wish that they would fulfill my fantasy and win the World Series before I die. Even seeing the Cubs get into the World Series would be a nice thing.

The Cubs haven’t played in the World Series in 62 years (this was shortly before I was born) and haven’t won a World Series since 1908 (seven years before my Dad, who was also a Cubs Fan, was born).

Cubs fans also tend to be hopeless romantics who live in a fantasy world.

This year the Cubs look really good on paper. But, then again, I have said that for the past few years. They have acquired via Free Agency a new center fielder that will probably hit at least 40 Home Runs and steal 30 bases. They have strengthened the pitching staff, and they have hired a new manager.

Writers that are critical of the ball club say that the Cubs will never go to the World Series again because they are owned by the stingy Chicago Tribune. The Tribune is spending the big bucks this year. The Cubs, whether winning or losing will almost always fill the Ballpark and therefore there is no incentive for the Trib to put a winning team on the field. I’ve read a commentary from a noted Sports writer who said that Wrigley Field is the largest Beer Garden in the world. Win or lose, Cubs fans will come out to Wrigley to drink beer.

The connotation here is that people only go to Wrigley to drink beer and party. While drinking beer and partying is part of the fun of going to a game, the fans at Wrigley are truly Baseball fans. Most of them buy programs and use the scorecards. Most Cubs fans can also quote the stats of the opposing team’s players. These are real Baseball fans, not just a bunch of drunks going to a game just to party.

We Cubs fans know the transcendent aspects of the game and love the game for what it is, “America's Favorite Pastime“. And we love the sound of the “crack of a bat” that sends the ball flying far into the Bleachers or out of the Ballpark. This is sweet music to our ears. And, I’ll drink to that.

Maybe this year!

The Beach Bum

Sizing Things Up

One of the things that perplex me the most is the sizing of women’s clothing. Today a neighbor’s wife proudly said that she was down to a size 10. It sounded good to me, so I smiled and nodded in approval. Although I have no clue whatsoever as to what a size 10 is.

I recall that my wife was a size 5-7 Petite or sometimes a 4-6 Junior Miss. Also that my two former live-in lovers wore sizes 7 and 5 respectively. Why do I know this fact? They all had told me their sizes so that I could buy a present for them at either Christmas, their Birthdays or even just for the hell of it.

Buying a woman an article of clothing just for “the hell of it” is a very important thing for a man to do. Women tend to be more receptive to having sex after they have received a token of their male’s appreciation. Especially if this token is a gift of clothing. Clothes are better than flowers. Flowers wilt and die. Clothes can hang in a closet for an eternity.

Therefore, I do have a notion about the sizing of women’s clothing . The sizing numbers are there to confuse their husbands and boyfriends, especially the one’s that are fool enough to attempt the purchase a piece of apparel for their lover. However it is the thought that counts.

Unfortunately, the stupid male will usually purchase something that he likes and not what she likes. Plus it is usually the wrong size. This also gives his woman even greater pleasure. Not only is her lover an idiot, albeit a caring idiot, but he has now given her an excuse to go shopping.

Now she can go to the store where the gift was purchased and return the item for something that she really wanted and to also buy some other things which she desperately needed. The male gave her a valid excuse to do so and cannot complain when she returns home with her purchases. She is happy and they have great sex that night.

The great sex that he had the night after his purchase now lingers in the male’s mind. The male now associates any article of apparel that he had purchased for his woman with having good sex (is there bad sex for a male?). This provokes the male to make these purchases more often. This is why you do not see very many commercials for Women's Clothing on television.

After a while the male finally realizes that no matter what he purchases for her, it will be returned. At this point, size no longer matters and the more expensive and garish the attire the better. It will be going back to the store anyway and they will have great sex that night after she returns from her shopping spree.

This is probably why most males, like myself, do not care to understand the sizing of women’s clothing. We just smile and nod our heads.

The Beach Bum

Bestest, UGGH , Blog

One of my four links to other blogs is “The Bestest Blog of All-Time”. At first the name of this Blog made me shudder. How do you turn a superlative adjective into a greater superlative adjective? I have heard children use this word and it has always bothered me, so I corrected them.

Bobby Griffin is the Blogmaster of “The Bestest Blog”. Bobby solicits donations and puts very many Pay Per Post Ads on his Blog. He even auctions off the “Bestest Blog of the Month” and gives the honor of the “Bestest Blog of the Week” to the person who has donated the most money to him during that given week.

I feel that this is unfair because a Blog should be judged by its content and not by who pays the most. But this is the “Bestest Blog” concept and I understand this.

I do respect and admire Bobby’s entrepreneurial skills. I’ve called him a “Money Making Machine” in previous posts.

Bobby has slacked off lately. He claims that it due to stress. I know the stress syndrome very well. Stress is what has given me my gastrointestinal problems. At least that is what the learned Doctors tell me.

One of my favorite Bloggers wrote a Blog about Bobby’s Blog the other day. I left a comment. I don’t leave very many comments.

Her Blog was highly critical of the people that have been causing Bobby all of this stress. She wrote about the donation aspect. And put the definition of the word donation on her Blog. My Dad would have liked this – she looked it up!

It appears that some of the people who have been "donating" to Bobby have great expectations. I expected nothing! I have received about twelve hits to my Blog from his Random Blog button. More than I expected.

Premium Bloggers on “The Bestest Blog” are guaranteed more hits, that is why they have donated to Bobby, to become a Premium Blogger and to attract more people to their Blog. What they do not understand is that it is the quality of the visitor not quantity of visitors that is an important factor.

I have complained, in the past, about Bobby’s lack of sustenance on his Blog. When he does writes, he writes well. He should write more often.

What has Bobby Griffin done for me?

Through his Blog I have found three of my favorite Bloggers. Their daily blogs are not only interesting but insightful and provocative. This is well worth the link to him which cost me nothing.

To those Premium Bloggers that carp and complain, I will steal a phrase from the British Philosopher Jagger -”You can’t always get what you want”.

Thank you, Bobby. Hang in there Buddy!

The Beach Bum

Still Crazy After All These Years

Today I received a letter from the Social Security Administration. It was a letter denying me early retirement benefits for disability reasons. I still have another year to go before becoming eligible for SS benefits.

Two years ago, while I was still able to work and employed, a friend, “The Captain”, suggested that I get an attorney and apply for SS disability benefits before my knees totally gave out on me. Being the procrastinator that I tend to be, I didn’t heed “The Captain’s advice” until this past fall, after one of my knees gave out on me.

However, I still didn’t do the right thing and follow the Captain's orders; I didn’t hire an attorney. I had decided that this was an unnecessary expense. Especially since I had not worked since last May and was supporting my son and grandson, who were living with me at that time.

The SSA sent me several forms and papers to fill out. I did it honestly, which is probably why I was denied benefits. I also included copies of some of the medical reports from my local VA Hospital.

The bottom line is that you need a Lawyer to lie for you whenever you are dealing with any Government Agency. Honesty is not the best policy when you are dealing with our government.

The final determination of the Florida branch of the Social Security Administration was that I still had the ability to function in some workplace, and that I was still employable. It may not be a place or a job of my choosing, but I didn’t need to take a job that required me to stand or use my legs. That it was my choice not to work and therefore I was ineligible for early benefits. I was qualified for too many other jobs in my area.

In my correspondence to them I attempted to impress upon them my aversion (in fact, a fear/Phobia) to traveling in a motor vehicle, and that there are not jobs available for me here on Treasure Island.

Their comment was that there are ”many jobs available in the Tampa Bay area” which I am well qualified to do. Obviously they didn’t read what I wrote on their forms. I don’t drive and public transportation to Saint Petersburg or Tampa is very limited here on the Island.

My last option is to go back to the VA Hospital and have them declare me as mentally unstable or impaired. In the past the VA Doctors have suggested that I need psychiatric help. According to them, my thinking is askew. My refusal to take medication and my fear of surgery (actually it’s a fear of anesthesia. which is a form of Trypanophobia) really tends to bother the learned Doctors at the VA Hospital. I don’t go with the program; therefore, I must be Crazy. I’m just leery of the many unnecessary surgical procedures that are performed in these Hospitals.

Seven years ago they suggested that I have my Colon removed. I refused and I have been put on their Blacklist of bad patients.

I have read the list of things that will qualify you to get early SS benefits and being mentally impaired was among them. It seems that a person deemed insane will get the early SSA benefits before a semi-crippled person who is unable to work will get the SSA benefits.

I've been also told that it would help my case if I was in a minority group. What greater minority could I possibility be in. A Caucasian male of Czech origin, an agnostic, who is over the age of 60, heterosexual, and terminally unemployed. I am certain that less that .05% of our population will fall within these parameters. As my Dad would have said "Do the Math".

The Beach Bum

I Like Bush

Today I visited a blog named CUSS - The Campaign for Unshaved Snatch. It is written by a young lady from New York named Suzanne. She is now in India and writing about her visit there. It was a very interesting read.

Although her blog is well written, that is was not what attracted me to Suzanne’s Blog. It was the title of her Blog that drew me there.

Suzanne mentions bare pussies and shaved women with disdain. She also mentions the fact that the reasons that we call the female genitalia a pussy or a beaver is because of the pubic hair. Her site logo is a beaver and a cat.

More and more woman have been shaving their pubes. This somewhat disturbs me and it also makes me wonder.

I must agree with Suzanne. Although I am not particularly fond of extremely hairy women, I do like them to have a bush down below. A well trimmed bush is a very attractive feature. One of my exes trimmed hers into a heart shape design - this was very sexy looking.

Why do women shave off their pubic hairs? Does it feel better to them to be bare down there? Do they think it makes them more attractive to their lover? Does it make them feel sexier?

Personally, I do not find a bare pubic area to be that attractive or sexy. I like looking at the bearded clam. Perhaps younger males may find it sexy. I don’t!

As Suzanne says, "a bare Pussy isn’t really a pussy"! I must agree with her assessment.

As an aficionado of female genitalia, I prefer seeing the hair in that area. I don’t understand why women shave themselves or why men may find this feature attractive. It cannot be a comfortable thing for a woman to do, so they must be doing it to attract males. They won’t attract me! I just lied. I'm attracted to young ladies whether they are shaved or unshaved. The fun is in finding out.

I like Bush, not the President, but the pubes that are above a women’s vulva.

The Beach Bum

Blackboard Jungle

I wrote a Blog in late January about getting an unexpected call from an old High School friend whom I hadn’t seen since 1973, when I returned to Chicago for my cousin’s funeral. My cousin was a decorated Chicago Police Officer who was killed in the line of duty.

Today I received a call from another old High School buddy. It seems that Joe has been busy tracking down old friends (using the internet) and is passing my telephone number to them. When you are not working and have nothing to do, you tend to attempt to relive your past. I know this is true because I have done the same with my old Army buddies.

I had a lot of acquaintances in High School, I was a popular person. But I could count my real friends on one hand. Most of my friends from my neighborhood went to Catholic High Schools; I was in the Chicago Public School system.

Ted was my second best friend in High School. In our conversation, he asked me if I recalled our senior prank. It was the custom in the early 1960’s for the graduating seniors to do something outlandish and to not get caught doing the deed.

Led and inspired by our friend Wayne we decided to confiscate every Black Board eraser in the School. We found two unused lockers on the third floor where we could store them. Four of us were involved in this prank, but we had help from other classmates in procuring the erasers.

The teachers were going crazy without their erasers. Some of them were using dish towels to wipe the blackboards. Another teacher would use his shirt sleeve.

The last eraser was in the desk of our Journalism instructor, who we called Superman. The reference was to Clark Kent – the mild mannered reporter from the Daily Planet. Like Clark Kent, he was tall and wore glasses. He kept the eraser locked in a desk drawer when he was not in the room. Unfortunately he let someone clean the board and she gave it to me when his back was turned.

We reached our goal and eventually sent an anonymous note to the principal, telling him where the erasers could be found. It was a good senior prank and we never got caught.

Five years ago in a Cicero pizzeria, three couples plus two of us single guys met for a mini reunion. All but one of the 8 people had been classmates.

One of the women that attended this mini reunion, sat behind me in many of my classes (we were seated alphabetically) in High School. She would stab in the back with the sharp point of her compass. I mentioned this fact at our mini reunion asking her why she hated me. And with her husband sitting next to her she said:” You’re so stupid, didn’t you realized that I wanted to be with you.”, “I wanted to be your steady girlfriend.” Her husband just laughed. I wonder what she does to him to show her affection.

The other single guy at this mini reunion was my best friend in High School; we called him Bones (because he played the Trombone). He told me that he had been telling stories about me for nearly 40 years. I hadn’t seen him since 1964. He was still the same guy that I knew back then, only older. He is now a social worker involved with batter wives. He has never been married and has no children that he admits to.

Today, it was good talking to Ted again. I hadn’t spoken to him since 1981 or 1982. We’ll probably get together for a pizza when I go to Chicago this summer for my annual Family Reunion.

The Beach Bum

Unintelligent Conversations

This afternoon while strolling on the beach to see some more “Eye Candy”, I stopped at one of the Tiki Bars to get a quick beer and to rest my knees. There were two young people sitting next to me, a female and a male. I’m not sure if they were a couple or just friends down for spring break.

The girl was in a pink bikini and sitting next to me. My eyes kept glancing down at her small but perky breasts and her legs. I don’t recall what the guy was wearing except that he was shirtless and had a hairy chest. She would giggle every once in a while, I like that quality in a women.

Being the “Nosey Nellie” that I am, I couldn’t help but to eavesdrop on their conversation. They were talking about school and their plans after graduation. Obviously they were seniors. The language that they were speaking burned my ears. It wasn’t obscene but it was obscene to my ears. A lot of the terms that they used are what I call “ghetto talk” or Ebonics. I hope that they can write better than they speak.

I was sitting there and wondering how these two people could make it into their senior year in college without learning the English language. My assessment was that they were obviously illiterate. Yet they were both college seniors preparing to graduate later this spring. How could this be? They seemingly will be functional illiterates with a college degree.

They were silent for about a minute, so I took my eyes off of the girl’s tight Bikini bottom (her Camel Toe was showing as she was sitting with her legs spread wide apart - very unfeminine) and I began to speak to them:
“Which school do you attend?”
The male answered “Ball State University in Indiana”.
“What’s your major?”
He said Business and she said Communications. I was overjoyed to hear that they were not Education majors.

Listening to their past conversation and then talking to them for about 10 minutes, I feel that she isn’t going to do very well in her chosen field of endeavor; she had no command of the English language. Or perhaps she just speaks in that manner with friends; it’s the vernacular of the younger people in our society today. However, it is offensive to my ears.

I don’t blame the kids, I blame our educational system. What has happened to the “Three R’s” that were taught to us in grammar school. Our society is becoming less and less literate. They’re unable to speak the English language properly. They’re unable to write a cogent paragraph. This bothers me. I can just picture a college classroom or lecture hall filled with 50 or more Jeff Spicoli act-a-likes.

Is it our educational system that is at fault? I believe so. They have lowered their standards of admissions and subsequently lowered the standard of getting a passing grade. Most professors’ use curves for grading purposes; now it’s a lot easier today to get to the high end of the curve today than it was 40 years ago. That is, if you study and are willing to learn.

We emphasize the importance of having an education to our children. Nowadays having a college degree doesn’t mean that you are smart, intelligent or educated. It means that you took four years (or more) out of your life, sitting in classrooms. Why? To get a piece of parchment paper that you can frame, hang on your wall and proudly say “I am a college graduate.” I find that most of today’s youth are not educated but are just simply accredited with an education.

The Beach Bum

A Night Out Lusting

I’ve been feeling kind of depressed lately. It has been four weeks today that my son left and move back to Maryland. It seems like it was just yesterday that we were sharing time together. I guess that as one gets older time passes by much quicker.

My support group, which consists of my Army buddies, who I knew when I was stationed in Africa, have made several suggestions to get me back on the right track. Some suggested that I take “happy pills”. The VA Hospital will give these pills to me and the learned Doctors there have suggested in the past, that I should take them.

My depression is not continuous; but it just comes and goes without warning. Most of the time I am a “happy camper” who enjoys his life. I’ve had this problem (depression) for several years. I’m not suicidal but I do cry much more than a male should cry. And the strangest things will make me cry.

There are movies that I just cannot watch without tears welling up in my eyes. These movies are not considered to be tear-jerkers. Most of them are happy movies and I find myself crying tears of joy. But I still do not understand why. Somehow I over relate to the characters in the movie. A form of catharsis.

Another member of my “support group” suggested that I “get out of my cave” and be around people more often. I have several, OK many, Phobias, but I am neither xenophobic nor am I agoraphobic. I just enjoy being at home more than I enjoy being in public. I do not feel the need to go out and mingle. My friend tells me that this is an abnormality and not good for me.

So tonight I went out to mingle. Actually I was hungry and had Cheeseburgers on the brain. This is one of those foods that I shouldn’t be eating, my eating of beef causes intestinal problems. I took a couple digestive enzyme pills and will hope for the best tomorrow.

I’m beginning to ramble, as I have been over served tonight. When writing I get easily sidetracked. Shortly I’ll get to the point of this post. I just felt that I had to set the scene.

I walked three blocks up to my favorite Bar and Grill; they serve a good Cheeseburger. There was an open stool at the outdoor bar. This is good because I smoke and you cannot smoke indoors in a Florida Restaurant.

I ordered a beer and a cheeseburger with fries. Sitting next to me was an attractive young lady, probably in her late 30’s or early 40’s. I've learned that you never ask a woman's age - you just guess. I attempted to strike a conversation several times. Finally she told me that she was a Lesbian. I told her that I wasn’t trying to hit on her; I just wanted to have a conversation.

Of course, this was a lie. After she had told me that she was a lesbian, the thoughts of a possible threesome started running through my mind like a wild fire. Pure Lust! I used all the charm and wit that I could muster. I even bought her two drinks and we talked for over an hour. She was really a nice person and good conversationalist. I was trying hard to convert her to heterosexuality.

As hard as I tried I got nowhere with her. I am now home, horny as hell and wishing that I was a lesbian. I will probably be suffering tomorrow from the burger that I ate earlier. But, all in all, it was a good night out of the cave.

The Beach Bum

Chemical Changes

I read a paper today written by Leonard Sax, MD, that was sent to me by a friend who, like me, is a John Wayne fan. The subject line of his email was “John Wayne Must Be Rolling Over in his Grave.”

Dr. Sax is the founder and executive director of the National Association for Single Sex Public Education. Dr. Sax is both an MD and PHD, who lives in Maryland and has published at least two books. He has appeared on the Today Show and does a lot of lecturing about sexuality.

The paper that I read, was not dated, and was called “The Feminization of American Culture - How Modern Chemicals May Be Changing Human Biology”.

Dr. Sax writes “Our modern society generates a number of chemicals that never existed before about fifty years ago. Many of these chemicals, it turns out; mimic the action of female sex hormones called estrogens. Plastics--including a plasticizer called phthalate, used in making flexible plastic for bottles of Coke, Pepsi, Sprite, Evian water, and so forth--are known to have estrogenic effects.”

These chemicals have gotten into our water supply. Because of this, girls are reaching puberty at an earlier age and boys at a later time than normal. A study revealed that “Most young girls with premature breast development have toxic levels of phthalates in their blood; those phthalates appear to have seeped out of plastic food and beverage containers.”

Sax goes on to say that this is not only effecting Humans but also other animals. The male animals are no longer producing the sperm count necessary to procreate. Nor do they have a normal sex drive. His prime example is the Florida Panther which is rapidly becoming extinct.

In this paper, Sax mentions that even the movie portrayal of the sex roles have changed. “Successful movies now often feature women who are physically aggressive, who dominate or at least upstage the men”…. “All the leading women are strong and all the leading men are good-looking.”

Both my 30 year old son and my 32 year old nephew primp in front of the bathroom mirror. They are concerned about their looks, whereas I always have felt that you can attract more women with words and your masculinity than your looks. It’s a different generation of males, with different attitudes, that have been polluted by plastics. I grew up in an entirely different society. Our manhood was more important to us males than our looks.

John Wayne, Humphrey Bogart and Clark Gable would not have been the major stars that they were, in today’s movies; they were too rough and rugged - not pretty boys. Yet, they all did one hell of a lot of love scenes in their movies. But that was back in the days when you didn’t see sexual acts in the movies. There was no nudity back then, so you didn't have to have a nice butt. The sex act was implied, not seen. Looking at John Wayne's naked butt and pot belly would even scare me. Today's rugged leading men now tend to be my age or older - in their mid 60's.

Dr. Sax's paper reminded me of the movie “The Graduate” when Dustin Hoffman was told that the future was in Plastics. It’s seemingly not a good future for us somewhat manly men.

The Beach Bum

Eye Candy

I took a walk to my favorite store yesterday, it is about a half mile down Gulf Blvd. I saw something that is very rare here on Treasure Island, in the parking lot of one of our larger motels. It was four young women getting out of a car and walking into the Motel.

Treasure Island is not known to attract young single women to the beach, although ours is one of the widest and cleanest on the Gulf Coast of Florida. We predominantly attract families and older people.

It finally dawned on me. It must be Spring Break.

I spoke to the owner of my favorite store and he confirmed the fact that it was indeed Spring Break. He has had to check more ID’s since the past weekend. Most of them have been from out of State. Sometime this causes him problems, but if he doesn’t like the ID he refuses to sell them package goods. Occasionally they’ll give him some guff and he will reply, “I do not want to lose my license, I cannot take a chance with your ID.” Some of them will make a snide remark while walking out the door.

I like Spring Break because it’s one of the only times of the year that you can really see good eye candy on the beach. In the summer months we have some day trippers from the Tampa Bay area, but most of the younger girls (and when I say younger, I mean in their late teens to mid twenties) prefer to go to Clearwater Beach, about a half hour drive north of Treasure Island. There is more action for younger people at Clearwater Beach; the Hotels are larger with more upscale bars that feature the music that younger people enjoy.

Today I took a four mile walk on the beach, two miles down and two miles back. Of course, I had to stop to rest my knees and have a beer in the process. I saw a total of eleven scantly clad nubile young ladies on my journey. Unfortunately none of them were wearing thong bikinis. The eye candy was sparse, but it was better than I have seen in a long while.

The Doctor’s tell me that walking is good for my legs, even though it causes me pain. When I returned home today, it felt like my left knee was on fire. I had to take some Ibuprofen; which I do not like to do this because of my alcoholic beverage consumption habits.

You can bet your last dollar that I will be taking a walk on the beach again tomorrow afternoon and for the next few days. Pain or no pain. But I’ll probably be going in the opposite direction. There are more hotels, motels and beach bars going north on Treasure Island than going south.

The Beach Bum

Whiskey in the Jar

Saint Patrick is the Patron Saint of Ireland. He lived in the fifth century and is credited with the using the Shamrock (a 3 leaf clover) to teach the Holy Trinity to the inhabitants of what is now known as Ireland. He is also credited with the banishing serpents from Ireland. These serpents were probably the Druids and not of the reptilian variety.

Today we celebrated his name day.

Being a native Chicagoan I well know how to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day; you just keep drinking until you pass out. Even if you were not Irish you would celebrate on this day; March 17th. In Chicago, everybody is Irish on St. Patrick’s Day.

This is a very busy day for neighborhood taverns in Chicago, especially in the Irish neighborhoods. I wonder if these neighborhoods still exist as they did when I was a teen. Back the 1950’s Chicago neighborhoods were very ethnic in character.

One of the things that I remember most about St. Patrick’s Day is that any underage person with a dollar in his pocket could get served in the neighborhood Bars. You could be sitting next to a Cop, in uniform (and drinking “on the House”), and still get a draft beer for a dime. I doubt if this is still the case, even in Chicago.

My favorite memories of St. Patrick’s Day are:

1) Charlottesville, Virginia 1978 at the Irish Games at Tonsler Park. I actually participated in several events including the Kaber Toss. The Irish whiskey shots had diminished my ability and I finished 12th out of 18 in this contest. At this time I also learned that Tullamore Dew was the best Irish sipping Whiskey that exists – far better than the more popular brands.

2) The Annapolis. Maryland Pub crawl 1991. Five guys and eight women; a beer and a shot of Irish in every bar. Thirteen Bars and thirteen people. Thirteen must be a magic number for me, as I got a roll in the sack with a young lady that I had been lusting after for several years.

3) Washington DC, 1986, at the Irish Times. Then we also went to several other Irish pubs within walking distance. I was accompanied by an Irish friend. We started at noon, I was sleeping in the car on the ride home to Maryland at 8PM. All of the bars had traditional Irish music. We sang along with the tunes as well as we could. We knew most of the words to the songs, but after several shots of Irish whiskey and many pints of Guinness and Harp our memory of the lyric became askew.

I don’t have any Irish whiskey at home, nor do I have any Guinness or Harp. I’m drinking Vodka and chasing it with a Miller Lite. I have no plans to go out and celebrate St. Patrick’s Day tonight, although a friend called and asked if I did want come out of my cave to celebrate

At this time, I’m listening to Irish Folk music and drinking. Isn’t that what a person does on St. Patrick’s Day?

I have several Clancy Brother’s Albums as well as two 90 minute cassette tapes of their music that were given to me by my Irish friends. Irish folk music is classified into three categories: Love songs (very few), song of rebellion and protest (many) and drinking songs (very many). I like the drinking songs!

My favorite Clancy Brothers songs are:
1) Finnegan’s Wake
2) Johnny Mac Adoo
3) Whiskey in the Jar (AKA Darlin' Sportin' Jenny)
4) They're Moving Father's Grave to Build a Sewer

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

The Beach Bum

A Very Scary Thought

I read a frightful story today. It was about a 22 year old female Egyptian medical student who decided to have herself circumcised.

Female circumcision is the removal of the clitoris. It was a common practice among Coptic Christians and Muslims in Africa during the time that I was stationed there in the 1960’s.

The reason for this act is to limit the sexual pleasure for the female. Their reasoning was that uncircumcised women have strong lust and often commit adultery, “just like western women”. Hell, half of the Bar Whores that I knew had been circumcised, but that never stopped them from applying their trade - Prostitution.

It was no big lost to them as I understand that most prostitutes do not really enjoy having sex. Don’t quote me on this, as I could be wrong.

Female circumcision was banned in Egypt in 1998. However, the Egyptians just banned it as being mandatory for teenage girls. Circumcision clinics do still exist, they are now on a voluntary basis. The female med student’s doctor said “I circumcise more adult patients lately, sometimes 10 young women a day. They didn't get circumcised when younger because of the ban. But when they want to get married, usually the men demands that the women must be circumcised before marriage."

The young med student went on to say,” I think circumcision is good for women. I know the clitoris can bring pleasure, but it is also a great temptation for women. It's best to remove it. Women don't need their clitoris for marriage and having children anyway."

She’s also probably still a virgin at 22 years old!

Why has this apparently intelligent young lady been brainwashed by the dominant male society in Egypt? Does she actually believe that no man would marry her without her having the circumcision?

Female circumcision is also a common practice in other parts of Africa and the Mid-East. But these are the same places that burn and stone their women for minor digressions.

Personally I enjoy my women having clitoral orgasms.

The Beach Bum

Dancing in the Dark

From today’s Saint Petersburg Times:

“Adult club owner and Tampa City Council candidate Joe Redner is offering voters free admission to his club, the Mons Venus, if they present their sticker saying "I voted." Redner said he's doing this strictly to encourage voting because low turnout is bad for politics.”

Joe Redner has had a lot of clashes with the Tampa City Council during the past few years. The Council has attempted to shut his Club down many times in the past. He finally figured out that the best way to fight them is to join them. Good thinking, Joe.

It cost $20 just to get into the Mons Venus Club. A lap dance costs you another $20 to $30 per song. You can touch and fondle the dancers as long as you don’t touch their “cookie”.

Many sports figures and celebrities have been known to frequent this club when visiting the Tampa bay area.

Although I've never been there, I heard that these beautiful young ladies are totally nude when performing their dance routine on your lap. Unfortunately for the gentlemen, they must leave their clothes on and never touch the “cookie”. You have to be content with the bumping and grinding on your pelvic area.

It seems to me that this is like masturbation without the payoff. If I get sexually aroused I want to get to finish line. There is no way that one can do this at the Mons Venus Club or other establishments of this sort. To me it’s just wasted time and wasted money.

A lap dance, even for free – no thanks! I rather stay at home and dance with myself, in the dark.

Joe Redner is a panderer, preying on our male fantasies. He definitely belongs on the Tampa City Council and in politics.

The Beach Bum

Photo Op

Today a friend from Maryland sent me a link to a porn site. Now, I’m not really into porn unless I can be a participant. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve bought a bunch of Playboy Magazines in my lifetime. I do like looking at naked women, especially of the younger variety.

But looking at Porn really doesn’t do a lot for me. I prefer women that I can hold, touch and then take into my bedroom. If they'll walk around naked, all the better.

Looking at a naked woman on a computer screen or in a magazine, just doesn’t do it for me. It never gets me as sexually excited as does the real thing. To look, but not be able to touch seems to be a worthless endeavor.

The reason my friend sent me to this site was that the girl (woman) in question looked a lot like one of my former lovers. Therefore, I, checked this porn site out.

It’s true that she does look like my old girlfriend when she was 20 years younger than she is today. But it is not her! How do I know this? There is a missing birth mark, high up, on her inner left thigh. Actually it is in the pelvic region. I spent a lot of time in that area and I knew her body well.

The facial and body resemblances were strikingly close to the woman that I had lived with for several years. I spent nearly an hour viewing the photos of the younger version of my former lover. She is a beautiful girl!

I did a Google search and found that the young woman (in the Website photos) is from Germany, is a model and has her own soft porn site. She is now 21 years old, but most of the pictures on her site were taken when she was 18 and 19 years old. Looking at those pictures made me horny for my old girlfriend!

Right now, I just wish that I was 35 years younger and living next door to this "Porn Queen" in Germany.

The Beach Bum

The Madness of March

It’s that time of year when I start to get excited about sports. The Cubs are in spring training in Mesa and the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament has begun.

Baseball is one of my passions! (I’ll write more about the Cubs and Baseball in a later post).

I’m not really a big Pro basketball fan, but I do enjoy College hoops. Contrary to my Chicago upbringing, I am an ACC fan. This stems from my college days at the University of Maryland. "Lefty" Driesell (sp?) was the coach at that time, and had had just come to Maryland from Davidson College. Tom McMillen, who later became a Congressman from Maryland, was the star of our team. This was in the early 1970’s when the Tobacco Road teams (North Carolina) dominated the ACC.

In 1978, a newly drafted Pro Basketball Player (Washington Bullets) from DePaul University (Chicago) became my neighbor. We often argued about College Hoops. He is (or was) in the NCAA record book as one of the top 10 point scorers in a single game in the NCAA playoffs.

But he was a player and I was a fan. We had different perspectives of the game.

I contended that ACC Basketball was the best all-around league in the NCAA. He claimed that the Big 10 was the best conference and that I being from Chicago, as he was, should be loyal to my home conference. I was instead loyal to my school and the conference in which they played!

My argument went down the drain when we watched Magic Johnson lead Michigan State (Big 10) to a victory in the NCAA final in March, 1979. My neighbor had been gloating for two days because none of my ACC teams had made it to the finals! I was pulling for Larry Bird and Indiana State. I lost $10 on a side bet with Dave that night.

He was so overjoyed that he scored 22 points for the Bullets on the next night. It was sort of an “in your face” kind of thing.

However, I’ve always cheered for the ACC teams in the tournament every year. As I want my school’s team or someone in our conference to win the tournament.

The Beach Bum

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Now that my son has moved back to Maryland, I’m beginning to fall back into my old bad habits. He left Florida 18 days ago to be with his son, who, in turn, left with his mother 39 days ago. But who’s counting.

For many years I would go to sleep at 6 to 7 am and arise shortly after the “crack of noon”. During the early morning hours I would respond to my emails, drink mass quantities of alcoholic beverages and smoke many cigarettes. Occasionally there was actually something worth watching on television.

When my son and grandson lived with me my habits drastically changed. I started to drink mass quantities earlier in the day and usually would pass out on the couch before 2 am. I was awaking between 8 and 9 in the morning. It was the same amount sleep as before, just in a different time frame. This went on for nearly 6 months.

Last night I noticed a cloud of smoke in my living room when I turned on a light. I keep the lighting very low as my Blue eyes are very sensitive to light. A friend once commented that I live in a cave. For the past six months I did most of my smoking outdoors. Without son and grandson here, I now rarely go outside to smoke.

My son told me that my second hand smoke would give him a burning sensation in his lungs. “Dad, you have to quit this bad habit”. It’s easy to quit a good habit, but very hard to quit a bad one. The bad habits are the one that usually bring you pleasure.

I don’t really know what pleasure I derive from smoking cigarettes. But I do know that I am a calmer and much pleasant person when I do smoke them. When I had stopped smoking for nine months in the early 1990’s most everyone that knew me said that I was “nasty and miserable”. Is this from nicotine withdrawal?

I didn’t start smoking again because people thought I was “nasty and miserable”, when I wasn’t smoking. I enjoy being “nasty and miserable”. Somehow, I believe that these are good qualities in a person. My Dad was always “nasty and miserable” and he didn’t smoke. In fact, he would lecture me about the ills of my smoking and how it would lead to my premature demise. He almost lived to be 90 years old, I’ll be lucky to make it to 65.

Now I don’t mind being called nasty and miserable if that is the way one perceives me to be. You can think what you think, that’s your prerogative. I have many friends that understand me and accept me for who I am and what I am. A nasty and miserable old man!

I’m told that I am an over opinionated SOB that cares nothing about what people will say about me. Bad habits, yes, I have them. Am I going to change? Very doubtfully!

The Beach Bum

A Slow Boat to China

I have two counters on this Blog. The one that you see at the bottom of this page gives you a count of the page hits to this Blog.

What are page hits? I don’t totally understand how this works. But I do realize that if a visitor to my Blog clicks on an achieved blog or a comment and then returns back to the Blog, it is counted as a page hit.

My second counter is one that you do not see on by blog. It gives me the stats on my last 100 visitors. It tells me where you came from and how you arrived at my Blog (including the search terms that you used). It also gives me your IP address, including city/state/country ID. However, I’ve found that some of these are erroneous. My daughter, who lives in Florida, is logging in from Greenville, South Carolina and a friend who lives in Maryland is listed as coming from Colorado. Obviously the system is not infallible.

I average 16 visitors per day with 2 returning visitors per day. However, if you clear your cookies daily you would not be counted as a returning visitor.

Now this counter is also telling me that 34% of my visitors come from China. It’s been as high as 48% from China for the past 100 page hits. None of them have been returning visitors. Or perhaps they clear their cookies daily.

The bulk of my Chinese readers usually visit between 2100 and 2200 hours GMT. Most of China is at +8 hours GMT. A quick conversion of time zones tells me that they are reading my Blog while they are sipping their early morning tea.

I can’t help but to wonder if they all read English or if they have a translator program that puts my Blog in the Chinese Language. I never get a comment from my Chinese visitors unless it is to refer me to a site that is selling OEM software.

I had an old friend that was Chinese. He worked for me in late 1970’s. He taught me all the obscene Chinese phrases. This is a real friend. He left Maryland (by train) for New York City with two shopping bags (one with his clothes and the other with thousands of dollars in cash) to visit his son before taking a slow boat back to China (as I do, he had an aversion to flying). His leaving saddened me, as well as it did my daughter who had grown very fond of Mr. Wong.

Now I’ve gone off on a tangent. Too many cocktails tonight!

Back to the Chinese visitors that visit this Blog. My stat service tells me that most of my Chinese visitors come to my blog with “No Referring Link”.

What does this mean?

It means that you have either Bookmarked my Blog or that someone sent you an email that had the website (Blog site) address included in the text of the message.

Am I being passed around in China? Why are they interested in the drivel that I have been writing?

If you are from China and are reading this, please leave a comment on this Blog and let me know who you are, what you do and why you visited my Blog. I'm just curious and would appreciate your response and comments about this Blog.

Thanks!

The Beach Bum

Stardust Memories

Early this past morning I was unable to sleep. There was nothing worth watching on cable television, so I decided to watch some of my old VHS tapes.

First, I watched “To Have and Have Not” with Humphrey Bogart and Lauren Bacall. What a classic! Unlike many modern day movies, that have been adapted from novels, it was very true to Hemingway’s book. You see the characters on screen as Hemingway portrayed them in his novel. You view them as real people. It’s a great classic movie with top quality acting. Bogie has always been one of my favorite actors.

Next I watched Sleepless in Seattle, a “chick flick”, written by Nora Efron, who only writes chick flicks. What can I say, I like both Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan (actually, I’ve been lusting after Meg for years after first seeing her in Top Gun and then in When Harry Met Sally - the faking an orgasm scene is a classic). Usually I cannot stand Rosie O’Donnell (she is an abomination), but she acted well in this movie.

I enjoyed watching this movie again and didn’t fall asleep before it ended. I usually put on movies that will lull me to sleep. I turned off the television and finally closed my eyes shortly after 6 AM this morning.

I awoke shortly after the crack of noon today thinking what did these two movies have in common? Why did I choose to watch these two movies instead of the hundreds of others that I have on video tape?

What do these two movies have in common? After pondering that question for several hours this afternoon, I came up with the answer.

Hoagy Carmichael! Hoagy who?

Carmichael was a songwriter and popular Jazz musician in the 1930’s and 1940’s. Because of the popularity of the music that he had written he appeared in several movies including “To Have and Have Not”, as Cricket the piano player. His music has been featured on many movie soundtracks.

Hoagy's most popular tune is called “Stardust”. Hundreds of singers have covered this song, including Frank Sinatra, Louis Armstrong, Nat “King” Cole and Willie Nelson. I have both Cole’s (my Mom’s LP from the 50’s) and Nelson’s (a gift from a Pro Basketball Player, who was my neighbor in the late 1970’s) versions on Vinyl. Willie cuts out the intro to the song, so my favorite is still the Nat Cole version - which is also on the “Sleepless in Seattle” soundtrack.

I’m listening to this song now:
“Sometimes I wonder why I spend the lonely night, dreaming of a song. The melody haunts my reverie. And I am once again with you. When our love was new, and each kiss, an inspiration. But that was long ago. Now my consolation, is in the Stardust of a song."

It's a beautiful song which brings back very fond "Stardust Memories" of the past lovers in my life.

Check out the availability of these Movies and Albums (CD's) on Amazon.com. You can click on the Amazon button in my right sidebar and do a search.

The Beach Bum

In God We Trust - All others must pay cash!

Three weeks ago the US Mint released a new $1 Coin. The George Washington Dollar. They plan to issue four of these coins each year, each with a different former President featured on the coin. I wrote a Blog about the issuance of this coin titled “Dollars and Sense”. (February Archives).

During the past week I have been bombarded with emails from friends concerning this coin. Some of the coins coming from the Philadelphia Mint were missing the words “In God We Trust” on them.

The fact that these words are missing from the coin does not upset me. However, judging from my emails, it does obviously does bother many of the people that I know.

The US Mint says that it neither does not know why this happened nor will they state how many of these coins have "accidentally" gone into circulation. They are very ambiguous in their comments about these mis-minted coins.

I honestly believe that the omission of the words “In God we Trust” was done intentionally. Hey, I’m a cynic! The coins were not selling at the rate that the government and the Mint projected. What better way to draw interest to the coins and increase sales of these coins.

These flawed coins are now selling for $40 to $60 apiece on EBAY. Not bad for a one dollar investment. People will now start to buy rolls at $40 each, hoping to get the misprinted coins.

As I had stated in my previous post, these coins are being minted for collectors. A one dollar coin is not needed and basically worthless and useless in today's economy. If they retool the vending machines, you may be able to use them to buy a can of soda, a bottle of water or a packet of potato chips.

The Beach Bum

Comic Relief

I read today that Marvel Comics have killed Captain America. A sniper shoots him as he leaves a courthouse, in the latest issue of the Comic Book.

Farewell Captain! It was nice knowing you when I was in my pre-pubescent years. I only wish that I still had copies of your early Comic Books that I bought in the 1950’s, so that I could sell them on EBAY.

In my pre-teen years I read a lot of Comic Books. Predominantly, DC and Marvel comic books and they were the classics. These were the action and super hero Comic Books. Superman, Batman, The Green Flash, Sgt. Rock (rat-a-tat-tat) and the horror comic books such as “Tales from the Crypt.”.

Back in the 1950’s Comic Books were a means of escapism for young males. Currently it is television, computers and video games. We had television, albeit Black & White, but that was back in the time when the parents actually would control what was viewed by the family. There were no VCR or DVD Players.

My Dad enjoyed watching Lawrence Welk on Saturday nights, I didn’t. So it was off to my room to read the latest Comic Books.

I spent most of my weekly allowance on either Comic Books or Baseball Cards. And the allowance wasn’t a given, as you had to do certain chores to earn it. It supposedly taught us to learn the value of a dollar.

My parents once commented to me, when they were both still alive, that my sister and I were both spoiled as children. And that we were allowed many more personal freedoms than they had when they were youths. I look at my children and their children and refute this claim made by parents. Their lives must have been a living hell!

As generations pass we tend to give more liberty to our children. The things that we wanted to do, but were not allowed to do as children, echoes in our minds. Therefore, we cut our children some slack on these issues. And our children tend to cut even more slack to their children than we did as parents.

I recently read a well written Blog about teenage girls and their sexuality. And as Bob Dylan wrote over 40 years ago – “The Times they are a Changin’”.

Goodbye Captain America. "Your old road is rapidly changing."

The Beach Bum

A Thought for Food

They say that you shouldn’t go to the Grocery Store when you are hungry.

I’m not hungry as I just ate a cold Buddig Honey Roasted Turkey sandwich on Whole Wheat bread with a little dab of Mayo and a few Fritos on the side. Not a bad lunch.

However, what I really long for is a Chicago Style Hot Dog or an Italian Beef sandwich, with greasy home made French fries or perhaps a Pizza. The thoughts of these delicacies make my mouth water. Unfortunately I’m eating turkey sandwiches instead.

For the uninitiated, a Chicago style hot dog is a Vienna Beef frank that is steamed and served on a steamed bun with tomato slices, chopped onions, either a slice of cucumber (my preference) or slice of dill pickle, mustard and green pickle relish called Picklelilly. Sport peppers are optional, but preferred. Don’t even think about asking for Catsup. This wiener is usually served with French fries, so if you want some for you fries they will give little packets. If they see you putting it on the Hot Dog you’ll probably be barred from making any future purchases.

These gastronomical delights were just a quarter when I was a kid. They are now cost as much as $1.99 each including fries.

The Italian Beef sandwich is another great meal. It’s thinly sliced beef that is soaked in a highly seasoned au jus for hours. Lots of garlic and pepper are added to the au jus. You can add steamed peppers and/or gardinara. I like my beef sandwiches “Wet or Juicy”, meaning with extra au jus. You can also have a combo, which is Italian Sausage and Italian beef. They are best served on rolls coming from Chicago’s Turano Bakery. Most reputable Italian Beef vendors would not use a lesser bread. The best Beef sandwich that I recall came from a small place call Chickie’s. However, a chain named Portillos serves a palatable Beef Sandwich. My sister, who lives in the Chicago suburbs, begs to differ.

Last, but not least – Chicago pizza. Now I’m not talking about what they call Chicago style Pizza. You know, that thick crust garbage, which they promote as Chicago Pizza and serve to the tourists in the Downtown Pizzerias. I’m talking about thin cracker crust pizzas. I’m dreaming of a Home Run Inn Pizza or even a Falco’s or Al’s Pizza from Cicero. The Home Run Inn has the best crust, Flaco's has the best sauce and Al's has the best Italian sausage, all of them make great Pizza’s and always use fresh toppings.

I almost forgot about the Maxwell Street Polish Sausage, another tasty delight.

My Doctors tell me that I shouldn't be eating any of these tasty foods. So, I think I’m going to make another cold turkey sandwich to starve off these hunger pains.

The Beach Bum

Rodents

I have an old friend that lives in the Brentwood area of Los Angeles, California. We met when we were in the Army, stationed in Africa in the mid to late 1960’s. Last summer, I reunited with him after nearly 40 years.

His nickname in Asmara, Ethiopia (now Eritrea) was Lurch. He was 6’3” and could do amazing things with his body. He did both the “fried egg “(an imitation of an egg frying on a grill with the accompanying sounds) and the “lizard” (down on all fours and imitating the movements of an Iguana). Lurch was also known to eat flies while performing the “lizard”.

Our unit was considered to be in the top 10% (test score wise) of the military at that time. When you see a guy crawling on the floor imitating a Lizard, and eating flies, it makes you wonder about the other 90% of people in the military.

Lurch was a very intelligent person back then and still is today. But he’s still living in the sixties and wearing tie dyes. Living in the 1960’s is not a bad place to live (in one’s mind). The 1960’s is my second favorite decade.

Lurch has not yet entered Cyberspace. He does not own a personal computer. Refuses to buy one. This is strange for a person that was in our technologically advanced military unit in the 1960’s.

Today I received a snail mail envelope from Lurch. It contained a personal message as well as many newspaper clippings from the LA area: Malibu and Santa Monica. In his note he also stated that he had seen Arnold and Maria shopping in the local Grocery Store. They must have a home in Brentwood.

One of the articles from the Santa Monica newspaper was about squirrels. As I have said before in a previous post, I am not very fond of these bushy tailed rodents. Once bitten – twice shy!

It looks as if these rodents are now overrunning Palisades Park in Santa Monica and attacking humans. The local Health Department warns that the rodents are aggressive and may carry rabies or host fleas that can spread disease, such as bubonic plague.

Bubonic Plague – now those are scary words!

Squirrels are vermin. So why not get rid of them? Probably because they are cute little animals and the animal rights activists really don’t mind if they bite and infect our children. There is always a cure for a bite from a rodent.

Santa Monica has decided to vaccinate the squirrels with an anti procreation vaccine rather than exterminate them. This. off course is the politically correct thing to do. And Californians tend to do the politically correct thing.

The Beach Bum

Bourne Again

The first time my wife and I separated, and there were many more times, as I kept coming back for more punishment, I moved in with a friend and neighbor who lived 2 blocks away from our house.

His wife, who was a nurse, had left him for the Doctor that she was having an affair with at the time. They had only been married for 4 years (no children) and they had met when both were Officers in the Navy and stationed in Annapolis. Not the city, but at the Military Academy.

I stayed with him for 5 months before going back to the ex for more punishment. What can I say – I’m a masochist.

My friend and room mate had many books. I like books and I enjoy reading. In that five month period I possibly read 100 of his books. It was during this time (in 1978) that I was first introduced to the writings of Anais Nin and Robert Ludlum.
He had three books written by Ludlum: The Scarlatti Inheritance, The Rhinemann Exchange, and The Gemini Contenders.

And as Mr. Richard Feder would inquire “And you’re point being?”

Since that time I have read and enjoyed all of Robert Ludlum’s books. Tonight on TNT (Cable Network) I watched the Bourne Supremacy with Matt Damon as Jason Bourne/David Webb.

Robert Ludlum must be rolling over in his grave.

Don’t get me wrong, it was a not a bad movie, lots of action and a good script. However it barely resembled the story in the book that I read years ago. Bourne was never an assassin in Ludlum’s books. The screen writers do not understand Ludlum’s concept of Jason Bourne/David Webb’s identity. Perhaps they never read the books. How can you write a script when you haven’t read the book?

Where is Bourne’s wife Marie St. Jacques/Webb. She is a prominent character in Ludlum’s Bourne Trilogy. She, by a different name in this movie, gets killed off in the opening scenes.

This Movie didn’t come anywhere near my expectations. It was exciting and had good acting, but the story wasn’t close to the book that I read.

I haven’t seen the Bourne Identity with Damon, but I’m sure that I would not enjoy watching it, therefore I will avoid it. I understand that Damon is now filming the “Bourne Ultimatum”. I’ll avoid this one also. I rather re-read the book.

Ludlum's books are available on Amazon.com. A link to Amazon Books is on the right sidebar.

The Beach Bum

Like a Rolling Stone

The learned Doctors at the VA Hospital have told me last May, that I must walk daily to strengthen my legs. My knees are shot and I have varicose veins. Walking cause’s pain, but the Doctors say that I must do this activity to keep my leg mussels from atrophying. They told me that I should not sit in a chair, lie on a couch or lie in bed all day. This is what I had been doing. Of course I didn’t listen to the Doctor’s advice.

Last December my leg strength was so weak that I could not hoist myself from the floor while playing with my Grandson. This scared me! Twice my son had to pick me up off of the floor. This is very embarrassing.

But my physical condition is not the point of this post.

Today, I walked to my Bank to make a withdrawal that would allow me to sustain my bad habits. On my journey to the Bank, I passed a Tattoo parlor that is relatively new to Treasure Island. I noticed two teenage girls entering the shop. They were giggling! And I was thinking that I would pay for their Tattoos if they would let me watch. Let’s face it; I’m a sick old man.

I never made the offer, so no harm, and no foul.

Sometimes our minds work in mysterious ways. When I arrived back home I immediately thought of the “Rolling Stones” and not of the teenage girls. This is very unlike me! As I have a longing for younger women, and lived with several awhile. These two girls appeared to be legal. But who knows? It’s not worth the risk at my age; as I don’t want to be branded as a pedophile.

In the early 1980’s the Stones had an Album named “Tattoo You”. It’s not one of there best albums; and I have 11 of their albums on vinyl and 4 more on CD. But it does have their songs “Waiting on a Friend” and “Start me up”. These are two of my favorite Stone’s tunes from the 1980’s.

At this moment I’m listening to the Stones. Great music!

The Beach Bum

Gay?

I read an article in the news that really upsets me. It concerned a former high school student in California.

The event took place in 2002. The student was a Mormon, as we should all know that most Mormons are a very kind and gentle people dressed in Black Suits. It’s actually hard for me to turn them away when they come to my door. Fortunately the Mormons do not send their Missionaries to Treasure Island, Florida.

I don’t knock anyone’s Religious beliefs, as long as they don’t infringe on my beliefs. If they attempt to convert me, I really do not mind, that is, unless they are of the Jehovah Witness or Pentecostal persuasion. I can’t perceive taking the Bible (one of the greatest works of fiction that was ever written) literally, nor can I see myself rolling on the floor of a church and screaming Hallelujah, Praise the Lord.

But if those are their convictions, so be it. We all have our own concept of what spiritually should be. Your God may not be my God. My moral code may not be your moral code. I accept this fact.

The high school student in question is now 18 years old and out of the school system. Noting that she was a Mormon a fellow student asked her "Do you have 10 moms?" Her retort was "That's so gay."

She was taken to the Principal’s Office (this is place where I had spent a lot of time in the early 1960’s for my unabashed language and off the wall comments in class) and chastised for her use of the word Gay!

Her parents sued the school system saying that they had violated their daughter's First Amendment rights when the school disciplined her for uttering a phrase "which enjoys widespread currency in youth culture”. This is a fact that I know is true, as my 30 year old son uses this phrase often to describe something that is “out of sort”. Our youth use this phrase to mean “That’s so silly” or that’s so dumb”.

However the California school system has a different opinion. They see using the term “That’s so gay” as Gay Bashing. Derogatory terms for homosexuality have long been used as insults. When I was young we never called them Gay. We called them Homos, Fags, Lesbos and swishers.

All of a sudden they came out of their closets and decided that they were Gays.

One of my pet peeves is the theft of the word Gay by the homosexual community.

From Webster’s Unabridged Dictionary (this is a 15 pound dinosaur which I received as a 12th Birthday gift from my parents – mainly so my Dad could always tell me to “Look it up”.)
Dad’s voice echoed in my head, so I did look it up:

Gay –
1. Joyous and lively; merry; happy; light hearted.
2. Bright; brilliant; as in gay colors.
3. Given to social life and pleasures; as, a gay life
4. Wanton, licentious; as, a gay dog.

Why did the homosexuals steal this word from us and make it their own? It’s such a happy word and most of the homosexual people that I have met have been less than happy.

The last definition is licentious, which is defined as lacking legal or moral restraints; especially: disregarding sexual restraints. I looked it up!

Does the Gay Community feel that they are immoral? I’m into performing perverted acts but only with members of the opposite sex. It’s fun and games for me.

I’ll probably be bashed by all my Gay readers for making this post. Hopefully, I’ll get some relevant comments for a change.

Personally, I could care less about a person’s sexuality as long as they don’t interfere with mine. I have no Gay friends that I know of; they might still be in the closet. Regardless they’ll still be my friends.

The Beach Bum

Fred Flintstone

I’ve been told by many people, including family members, that I’m still living in the Stone Age. They say that I am living in a cave. My retort has always been that I am very comfortable living in my cave.

They say that I am not adapting very well to the new ways of the world. I fervently disagree!

In the early 1960’s Bob Dylan wrote a song called “The Times they are a Changin’”. I loved this song because I was young and rebelling against society.

Dylan sang “Your old road is rapidly aging. Please get out of the new one if you can't lend your hand. For the times they are a-changin'”. As I write this I can hear him singing this song.

I was an adherent of this philosophy at that point in my life. I was very young, impressionable and also very stupid; unaware of life’s innuendos.

I think that I have just been sidetracked by Bob Dylan. His song “Don’t Think Twice” has now replaced Pink Floyd’s “Another Brick in the Wall” as an echo in my mind.

Back to the subject at hand, this is progressing and adapting to our new technological world.

I want to say that I have been on the internet since 1994, and that I have had a personal computer since 1992. Many people that I know didn’t enter cyberspace until the late 1990’s

I developed my website in early 1998. However, I am new to Blogging. I’m still learning!
As Forrest Gump would say “That’s all I have to say about that.”

My daughter bought me a DVD player, for Christmas, 3 years ago. I hooked it up a year and half later to show my Army buddies a DVD of the city where we were stationed, in Africa, in the 1960’s. It’s still connected, but I rarely use it. I do own 3 DVD’s! All three were gifts. I have tons of VHS and BETA tapes to watch if I have the inclination to do so.

I’ve now made a giant step! Today I signed up for a higher speed internet connection, a digital phone system with unlimited long distance calling, with caller ID and call waiting as well as digital cable.

Why? Because, it will cost me about $10 less per month than I am currently paying for lesser services. It’s a good deal from Bright House, my cable company.

Perhaps I’m coming out of the Stone Age. Although, I’m not quite ready for a cell phone, everyone that I know seems to have one. I don't really want anything that I do not really need, especially if it will cost me more dollars.

I’m not against progress; I’m just against progress that will take more money out of my pocket!

The Beach Bum