The Newell Post

I remember as a kid in grammar school when current events was a big topic for us. Sister Margaret always started our eighth grade day off with a discussion of Viet Nam and Madame Nhu, the Dragon Lady. It seemed that to be a good citizen of America you had to know about current events. Today, of course, the reverse is true.

Although last year I swore off the polarizing networks of Fox News and MSNBC, the presidential election cycle drew me back like the train wreck it really was. Unfortunately, I have not been able to let go and continue to drop in every night, even if it’s for only a few minutes per channel. However, I do have a way of mitigating the effects of this inability to look away.

Homeland on Showtime is the perfect alternative to the news.

I am a late comer to the series but have been catching up. I am not in the current season as yet so don’t spoil it for me.

The comfort I get from watching CIA operatives kill people in foreign countries is that it makes our own country look so much better.  Whereas the news channels here go out of their way to highlight the internal terror of American life; cop shootings, parents killing kids, and the general hatred people have for each other, Homeland focuses on problems we never experience.

It’s like going on Space Mountain. You get the same thrill and angst as you do watching the news but Homeland lets you get off at the end and switch to The Big Bang Theory.

You might think I advocate burying your head in the sand as opposed to remaining a informed citizen but I just moved to Florida. I have no intention of burying my head in the sand, but I am resolved to get my  butt as close to the sand as possible .

Well, here I am, finally in Florida. Having survived the last six tumultuous months, I am just getting my Florida Face which is nothing like my NYC Subway Face.

I thought that our first week here in the Sunshine State would seem more like a vacation than a major life changing event but visiting the construction site of our new home kind of added the sense of permanency to our location. It did not come without some remorse.

Living in our EQ house for over thirty years, it was not easy closing the door to that life and setting out on a new life. We left so many friends and family members behind and, although our kids will be making their way down here for various visits and we will return to them quite often, the loss of the spontaneous drop in is a poignant reminder of just how far we have traveled. The first thing I planned was the Christmas trip for my kids and dogs.  I have to see the dogs.

But did I mention that the weather has been spectacular?

We did have a chill last night as we came out of the restaurant. The temperature dipped down to 75 degrees. Today, we expect some rain but being a full sports day with the Rangers and the NFL championship games, let it rain.

I was spared the inauguration as I had to meet with the Community Center people here in our temporary residence to go over the dos and don’t of gated community living.

We haven’t been to the beach yet as we are just getting used to our local environs and packed our beach chairs in the POD. New beach chairs are on the agenda for the coming week.

Also on the agenda is a trip to the East Coast to see my sisters and their kids. Maybe a visit to Archie’s?

Oh well, one day at a time.

A Bronx Boy’s Tale, by Jimmy Newell One of my favourite things to do while I walk around the city is trying to imagine how was like to live in New York in the past; trying to imagine the Fift…

Source: When Life Was Good

The world is coming to an end.

Our transportation system is archaic. Our bridges and tunnels are too scary to think about while you are using them. A BA in History costs a half million dollars and you get to say “Do you want fries with that?” when it is conferred. We haven’t won a war since we dropped the bomb on Hiroshima and Obama is probably going over there today to apologize.

All of this is going on and what is cutting into Donald Trump’s television exposure? The federal government and the state of North Carolina are having a pissing contest!

I have to be honest, I never like using public toilets to begin with and now they’re taking all the joy out of it.

There is an unwritten rule when using a public bathroom, DON’T LOOK!

My game face for the urinal is much more severe than when I ride the IRT 6 train. I mean I look straight ahead, never a glance east or west. I don’t even make eye contact at the sink washing my hands. However, I do take note when someone skips out without so much as a bird bath attempt to sanitize.

Now we have Big Government telling us how to use the potty and I fear people will be looking.

So, what do I have to do to assure my fellow peesters? Do I have to bulk up and walk like a defensive end? Do I have to lower my voice a full octave? Suppose I have to use the booth? Will I be a suspected transgressor?

I have to say there have been times when the men’s room has been unavailable and the women’s  room seemed mighty appealing. Would I have been wrong to use the facility?

I remember that time at the Brendan Byrne arena at a St. John’s game. It was half-time, I grabbed my eight year old son by the hand and made a mad dash to the men’s room…or so I had thought.

We both survived the ordeal.

I’m thinking the rest of you will as well…Just Don’t Look!

I love Forrest Gump! It’s a great movie. Tom Hanks is a terrific actor and the story is so compelling and includes a nice taste of historic irony to make it amusing. The one problem I have with the movie is that I am sick to death of it. It’s on television at least once a week. I think AMC must only own two movies, Forrest Gump and The Green Mile! I hate them both.

I mean, you can’t put these movies on television all the time. Even the Wizard of Oz is only on once a year, although I do seem to see it  more often since CBS no longer airs it. I think TBS puts it on when they get sick of airing their ten episodes of The Big Bang Theory.

Too much of anything is good for nothing.

Those dire words were uttered by my mother nearly every day usually in relation to mashed potatoes but they are useful to consider when it comes to movies that used to be classic and have morphed into the hackneyed.

Then there’s Donald Trump.

Do you remember the time when seeing Donald on television made you stop what you were doing so that you could pay attention to every word he had to say?  It used to be hysterical! He would poke fun at Jeb Bush and ask him to check his pulse. He would call Ted Cruz “Lyin” Ted Cruz. It was fantastic.

Then there were the Mexicans! My God what was he going to say next? And exactly how was he going to get Mexico to pay for that wall?

It was one train  wreck after another.

And that became the problem.

If you remember Gomez Addams playing with his trains, we were always delighted with his train wrecks because they were always a surprise and never repeated more than once or twice. And, The Addams Family was only on once a week.

Donald’s train wrecks have become an every day event on every channel. The funny thing is he has everyone scratching his head and still they watch.

I mean how does the leader in the Republican Presidential campaign piss FOX News off? Even Megan Kelly can’t stop talking about him.

But enough has become enough.

I liked Forrest Gump the first ten times it was on television but eventually the magic of the film wore thin. So, too, Forrest Trump has gotten boring.

For no other reason, Forrest Trump cannot be our next President. I can’t look at him anymore! I can’t listen to him anymore. I’m hoping people won’t vote for him anymore.

It is no longer enjoyable to watch Forrest Trump. It is very uncomfortable. In fact, it’s even more uncomfortable than watching Hillary talk about her email account with a Yankee cap on her head.

But, just like the never ending airing of Forrest Gump, Forrest Trump is destined to continue to dominate the airwaves.

What’s next “Big Trump Is Watching YOU?”

Mother of mercy!

It’s that time of year when I return to one of the rituals of my youth. Listening to Jesus Christ Superstar during Holy Week was one way I attempted to get into the spirit of the Paschal Mystery. This may be foreign territory to my non-Catholic readers so I will explain. Matthew’s gospel contains a section entitled The Passion Of Our Lord which details the final days of Jesus. Beginning with the Last Supper and ending with the Crucifixion, the Passion is required reading during the sacred time of Holy Week.

Listening to Jesus Christ Superstar, a rock opera that more or less follows the same trajectory of Christ’s last day without the Divine significance believers attribute to the events, may seem like a crass, if not heretical way of observing the Passion. And, it would be were it not for the fact that I do read Matthew’s account for the more traditional analysis.

While listening to the rock opera guilt free this morning on my way into work, I thought about the admonition that Judas made concerning Jesus’ decision not to come at a time of mass communication. Now, back in the 1970’s when Jesus Christ Superstar was written and performed on stage, the term mass communication really meant television and, to a lesser extent, radio. There was no internet; there was no Facebook; there was no Twitter, Snapchat or Linkedin.

Nevertheless, following Judas’ lead (which is not always advisable), I asked, What Would Jesus  Tweet?

I don’t tweet so often. I rarely have gotten into a conversation with anyone although I have replied to a couple of people. But the stories I hear about other people lead me to believe that Jesus would have taken it slow. Of course, he would have wanted everyone to follow Him, after all he said that constantly in the New Testament. But I am not so sure he would have wanted to follow too many people after He got a look at some of their tweets.

I think Pope Francis would be a definite. He is forever tweeting the very things we would expect Jesus to tweet. I do think, however, Jesus would have let the wall building bridge building thing pass or would He?

As I think about it, Jesus probably would have taken all the haters on although being limited to one hundred and forty characters would have been a challenge.

Jesus had no tolerance for those who misused religion for their own gain. Just remember that scene in the Temple when he let those making it a den of thieves have it. I am guessing He would have the same reaction to those using religion to kill.

I do wonder what His reaction to my tweets would have been? Even if they were not of the type to inspire racial, ethnic, or political hatred, tweets that were unkind or mean spirited might result in the same disappointment for Jesus.

I am going to think about the next time I tweet or post.

I am in the middle of my annual read of Charles Dickens’ masterpiece A Christmas Carol.

I always included this in my “Transformation” lecture when I was a teacher. I gave it this time of year to illustrate the transformative nature of Christmas. We see transformation as a common theme in most of the Christmas stories that we all grew up with and handed down to our children.

George Bailey, Charlie Brown, Rudolph are just a few of the characters that witness Christ’s transformative gift to mankind. Sorry, I am not PC and used Christ and mankind in the same sentence. Also, I should point out, I am using the archaic meaning of transformation and not the one hijacked by Caitlin.

Anyway, the characters listed above go through their own realization as to what is important in life and learn the true meaning of Christmas. It is, after all, the ultimate inclusion tale.

One of the variations of A Christmas Carol that I used to love to read as a kid was the comic book version of A Disney Christmas Carol. When I was about ten a very dear friend, Carol gave me a treasure trove of comics and it included this comic book. I wish I still had it.

To those of you who are familiar with this rendition, Scrooge McDuck is the main character and is subjected to the ghostly visitations that change the course of his life. On the train this morning I was musing that perhaps Donald Trump might have the same experience. Who else needs a radical transformation more than The Donald?

Scrooge McTrump would be met by the apparitions of Presidential candidates who were victimized by their own folly.

The first  Ghost of Past Elections was a Romney but not the one you think. It was 1968 and George Romney proclaimed he was “brainwashed” and quickly changed his view of the Viet Nam War. He never came back from that.

Then  of course there was the Ghost of more recent past as portrayed by George Bush I and his proclamation about no new tax hike “Read My Lips”.

Finally, the Ghost of President Worst To Come sticks his bony hands out of his dark shawl giving the V for victory sign proclaiming “I am not a crook!”

Well, after all this dire political misery our hero McTrup is left in a heap grabbing on to his bank statement yelling out “IVANNA IVANNA”.

But McTrump is soon in control of his senses as the television in his bedroom lights up and Megyn Kelly reports that The Donald has withdrawn from the presidential race and is joining the Peace Corps.

Monday Mornings are bad commuting days. I was extremely tired from a very nice weekend. I imagine the train crew for the 6:56 train from Ronkonkoma to Atlantic Terminal was every bit as tired as I. Certainly my fellow riders were tired.

Because I was encsonced in my Bose headphones if not in velvet, I never noticed that we were running late. It was Monday and I should have just assumed that we would be late. Nevertheless, I did not and when I got to Atlantic Terminal the only odd thing I did notice was that the subways were also late. Usually they act up on Wednesdays and run pretty regularly on Mondays. I ran up one platform only to learn that the next train was coming in on the other platform. I missed that  subway.

The next train on my platform was due in 20 minutes. The train that was originally due in 12 minutes on the other platform was now down to 5 minutes. I made the trip downstairs and upstairs but I immediately recognized my mistake.

There was a man crying.

As if I hadn’t had enough on my plate. The rail road was late. The subway was even later. It was Monday and I hate being be late on Mondays and now there was a man crying.

The man was not only crying, he was bleeding too. A real mess. It was hard to see what caused the bleeding as there was a large screw driver sticking into his side and blocking the view. Perhaps it was the screw driver that was causing the bleeding? Perhaps it was the screw driver that was causing the crying.

Well, I was already late and had absolutely no time or interest in getting involved. I was not alone. My fellow passengers anxiously awaiting the 2 train gravitated down the platform seeking refuge from the crying man. I assumed my train face. No eye contact, a look of oblivion, and the appearance that I am somewhere else.

The man was crying louder than ever and the blood kept gushing but I passed him by. I was not alone. The Presidential candidates were there and they passed him by. The religious right looked the other way. Liberal Catholics, Orthodox Jews and Moderate Muslims all walked right on by. I could almost hear Dion Warwick singing. The Pro Life and Pro Choice people were bumping into each other trying to get out of there. The Evolutionists agreed with the Creationists that the best thing to do was to leave. Prohibitionists and Abolitionists of all shapes and sizes moved quickly to avoid eye contact with the crying man.

Then the rumbling of the 2 train momentarily overtook the crying of the bleeding man. The doors opened and we all rushed for a good seat trembling with the fear that only a bleeding man who was crying threatening to sit next to you could cause.

We all exhaled, “Thank God!” The crying man stayed on the platform bleeding and crying.

There was a man crying. He wasn’t bleeding and there was no screw driver stuck into his side. But he was screaming and crying and in no less pain than if he had been pierced with a screw driver. There was a man crying because he was mentally ill. We have all witnessed the mentally ill somewhere whether it was in the city or in a small suburban town.

When I saw this man crying this Monday morning I wondered why I was so comfortable leaving him in his agony when had he been bleeding with a screw driver in his side I and 50 other people would have been rallying to his aid? Why is that?

If I was the crying man, would you not stop and help me?

I don’t know who the next President will be but I hope he or she can actually get somebody to do something. We have good people in this world, we don’t have to wait for a new President so why is it so impossible to help a man crying on a subway platform on a Monday Morning?

We were late getting to our reception because of the photographer. Fortunately my groomsen had the foresight to stop at a bodega in transit from the church to the photographer’s studio. But, of course, they only were able to secure beverages and no pigs in the blanket or other cocktail party fare.

Only days before Eileen and I met with the caterer to go over the list of guests and the seating chart. For some reason, we both ( the caterer and us) made an error in counting and we hadn’t even had a drink yet. So, when we finally had taken all the pictures (or so I thought) and were able to get to the catering hall the first thing we learned is that we had a table-full of guests who had no table. The caterer quickly set one up before we got there and all was well.

Because we were so long taking pictures and so late getting to the hall, we missed our own cocktail party. Looking back I should have made a stink but the caterer had the guilt trip all ready for me: “You don’t want to keep your guests waiting , do you?”

At the time I didn’t but if you ask me today I say screw ’em I want some shrimp and scallops wrapped in bacon.

Mr. and Mrs. James Newell were introduced for the first time and we danced one dance and then didn’t see each other for an hour or two. It was an Irish wedding and adult beverages were readily available.

We did dance to Here There and Everywhere and we cut the cake and all the traditional things that couples do. Pop sang a song or two, definitely Five Foot Two Eyes Of Blue and he ended that rendition by singing “Has anybody seen my gal….without a shirt?”

For some reason I thought it would be a good idea to keep the party going so just when our bandleader was announcing the last song I gave him the high sign that we would have one more hour, having just shaken the hand of the caterer.

Now, September 19, 1976 was a Sunday and all my family (my brother Johnny in particular) was already a little miffed about having to stay out late on a school night and now they had to endure another hour! They bore the burden well and ordered more adult beverages.

I had had just enough adult beverages. Unfortunately, I had had just enough around 8:00PM and I did not stop at just enough. My bride was of the same opinion so that by the end, the real end of our celebration, we were both properly toasted.

Nevertheless, it came as no surprise that we should plan to meet our friends at a bar in the Bronx. McGuinness and Farrell was a bar on East Tremont and one of the owners was a great friend of the family and an attendee. Before going to the bar we had to go back to 1123 White Plains Rd to get our suitcases for we were going to be checking into the Plaza in the city.

While Eileen was attending to the suitcases, being just a wee tired I decided to take a nap. I napped in the driveway, and not in a car but in the driveway.

We got to the bar in our wedding regalia and were finally done with toasting. Our friends Pat and Paul drove us down to the Plaza.

If you never stayed in the Plaza, let me just say that their version of a king size bed is more akin to a small air craft carrier. I was overwhelmed by the luxury and went downstairs to implore Pat and Paul to come up and see it. They abstained.

I went back upstairs as the luggage arrived and heard Eileen mumble something about keys to the luggage and that is where I shall leave you.

Although I will admit that Donald does create riveting drama, and God knows we need it at least until the new season of NCIS starts, he makes me very uncomfortable when I now see him on TV especially with a podium in front of him. It used to be that only his hair made me uneasy but now when he starts to talk I immediately start to cringe and that is too bad.

You see I hate PC. I really do. I grow tired of microaggressions that apparently people endure if you speak of America as a melting pot or even if you say you are American. That’s one that confuses me. I know we have North America of which the United States is only one component and that Mexicans and Canadians might find offense at being excluded. But after all, we live in the United States OF AMERICA!!! It’s in our name. How can we not be Americans? What is up with that? If it offends you, TOO BAD!

So, when Donald does address some PC stuff I do like it. It’s ok to ruffle feathers. The problem is that Donald has no filter and as many of you have seen on his hit reality TV show (I don’t watch reality TV unless Gibbs is in it) he doesn’t take direction well.

He is so insensitive to the things that annoy people that he actually has pissed off FOX News. I think Hillary gets better reviews now.

Speaking of Hillary, even she has had her moment of speaking NON PC. She got in the face of the guy from Black Lives Matter. I swear this is an attempt to get Trump elected much as the radicals in 1968 got Nixon elected by Dumping Hubert Humphrey.

The best part of this is that no one is paying attention to AROD anymore.