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Once upon a time, Albert Camus wrote a book called “The Plague”. Loosely summarized, it is about how the cremation of dead rats spread a mysterious viral disease (Bubonic plague), which infects humans and its social ramifications. IMO, it was written in true Orwellian style!

Every so-often, some disease or virus comes along which is supposed to end life for humans as we know it; only this time, with the twenty-four hour daily news cycle in super-breaking news mode, America’s presidential election year and the information super traffic-jam highway often bumper-to-bumper, the (don’t believe the) hype machine is on full-blast, especially in the big market cities.

As I write this, there are 145,000 cases of COVID-19 worldwide and 30,000 are said to be in Italy. There are 7.8 billion people on earth as of early 2020, therefore the infection is less than 1% of the population of Earth! Yet, the news media and politicians are verging upon spreading widespread panic, especially if you listen or watch too much coverage of it.

Do you remember the “SARS” panic, which started in China in 2002? (Its a form of coronavirus!) How about “The Swine Flu” which had a noticeable outbreak in 1976, during the Richard Nixon presidency? Or “Cholera”, which brought New York City to its financial knees in the 1800s? How about “Ebola”, which reappears from time-to-time since 1995? If you are on either side of my generation, then you have the mark of a “Smallpox” vaccination on your left shoulder! All of these viruses came and went; changed economies and lives – and we are still here. Interestingly, the best methods for avoiding contamination are the ones most of our ole-school, common sense mothers taught us: wash your hands under warm, soapy water while you recite the alphabet immediately when you come home and in the meantime do not touch any orifices on your body with your fingers!

I’m surprised that the guy who is running for re-election as President of the USA hasn’t decried it as “fake news”, or accused some far-eastern country of “bio-terrorism”! I bet that he tried to, or even blame “the Democrats” for wanting to hurt his chances. Truth of the matter is that his weak oratory skills and lack of a policy forming, diplomatic mind are exposing his basic lack of credentials for the job at just the right time.

Fear not, the dedicated international scientific community will develop an antidote or vaccine to this latest “pandemic” (a very scary-sounding word, by the way) in-spite of how this “President” has poo-pooed and dismissed their findings during the past four years. (“Shhhh… I read where it is based upon Vitamin C…) And it must be a cooperative effort internationally [see: the risk of alienating our historical allies]
As a spokesman for St. Patrick’s Day festivities in Richmond, Virginia USA said recently, ““We want to be thoughtful but not live in fear. We have been monitoring the current news daily and we believe common sense is king here. We are asking people to use their common sense. If you are sick, stay home. If you have concerns, stay home…

**PickHitt: If you know someone who died of this, please comment with the date, diagnosis and what brought them to be “tested”. Otherwise, we need to ask more questions to QUALIFY this plague as the truth! Why do people these days, just fall in-line just because “the news” says it is so?!

**Please be sure to flash on over to my satellite, musik-only blog to listen to whazzup! https://achilliadsmyvinylrecordshoppe.wordpress.com/ Thanking you in-advance.

Just like in a company, where the employees reflect the personality of the CEO, so goes a nation or country, IMO.
Hearing about more terrible acts of gun violence, antisemitism and racial intolerance in-general these days is directly related to the individual who is, unfortunately, the current “CEO” of our country, The United States of America, residing in our “White House”.

Every American should own one of these. Just call and they will send you one!

As a general rule, I intentionally steer clear of polity here, but my diary is exploding with the need to carry this cautionary educational message for our last post of 2019.

Like the late American President Ronald Reagan’s “trickle-down economics”, so goes the behavior of our country morally, socially, harmony and friendly. Not saying all of us are so influenced – we who have education, independence and individuality enough to make our own decisions don’t quickly fall under the spell of the “soup-of-the-day” – but many people who erroneously feel their voices aren’t heard do drink the (spiked with hate) cool-aid.

This individual of whom I speak has no shame; when he is wrong in thought, word or deed, always finds someone else to blame. His absence of character staidness has filtered dangerously into pockets of our populace, similar to how a cult would.

His recreant attempts to somehow bend the traditional and established norms of the office he and his contrivers disinformed groupies into casting electoral votes for and acts in depredation of our Constitutional rules terrorize our very way of life over the six decades that I have been alive and beyond. It is as if the late Alabama Governor who stood in the doorway of educational institutions to deny black students entry in order to preserve segregation has been reincarnated into a slightly slicker, taller version! Without shame, lying and then lying again as a spoiled child would when caught red-handed time and time again, while querulous about the press (aka “media”) he is at the very least pernicious to our civil discourse among a diverse nation of people. He doesn’t know when to belt-up!

Fantasy: I wish I could run for president so I could beat him! Reality: Yet, I am too much an imperfect human being, and in this climate of looking up candidate’s assholes, those willing to take me down would find some shit they would try to wipe my face with. Therefore, I feel that something/someone else will have to happen to save us “normal” educated majority masses from this dictator wannabe. Denial never solves; it makes it worse. This guy plans to campaign for another term with soiled underwear showing through his pants, without compunction about his repulsive smell, because he refuses to wipe his own behind.

He can’t wipe enough!

The solution is to elect a leader who speaks not in 140-character “tweets”, but to us all with televised speeches and with the traditional “weekly radio address”, eloquently, teaching and uniting upon the civil manners, mores and etiquette-based values of yore. Too much contentious nonsense with this guy; time for a return to compromise and civility in America. Even with the few things that disappointed me about President Obama, I know that we were a happier country during his two terms and neither Bush, Clinton, Bush the Father, Reagan nor Carter and their predecessors trampled upon our sacred U.S. Constitution like this guy is!

And that brings me to my Word of The Year for 2019, “terrible”.

Everytime I turned around this past year, from the time my landlord sought to not renew my lease in early spring, for reasons which are still a mystery, I found myself thinking or uttering aloud, “TERRIBLE!”

*Relocating interstate into a falsely advertised house to find moldy, sickening air and an uncooperative property manager: “terrible!”
*Uncouth, embarrassing behavior by the so-called President alienating allies? “Terrible!”
*almost weekly reports of mass shootings of innocents and gun violence not seen in decades! “terrible!!”
*antisemitism rising to a level not seen since Hitler’s time. “Terrible!”
*Copy-cat violence and too many guns on city streets – “Terrible”
*Oh, did I mention the obstinate Property Manager? Yes, I did but he gets another “TERRIBLE”.
*Ageism making money hard to come by the longer you live? “Terrible”.
*Not being able to get back on the radio in the profession I loved and was very good at? “Terrible!”
*Watching senescent relatives aging and the breakdown of our human bodies with disease, is in many ways sad and…almost, ”terrible”.
*Corporate greed and the closing of brick and mortar stores: “terrible”.
*Increasing lack of human toll takers at bridges and tunnels and all those jobs lost? “Terrible!”
*Many loose nuts with mental illness running loose when they shouldn’t be, and causing harm to people? – “Terrible”
*Educational disconnect between generations born since 1999, which leads to the collective having to revisit atrocities we thought were settled and negative history repeating itself. “Terrible and tragic”.
*Housing construction codes so poor one can hear the flushed water of the tenant upstairs cascading inside the wall – gross and “Terrible!”
*People staying inside too much and watching too much video and television – especially the news – “terrible!”

We teeter on the edge of abysmal era where there is no punishment for obvious transgressions by an executive, if he can deny it long enough. That would be truly terrible if it comes to pass. United we stand, divided we fall.

Please have a safe New Year’s Eve into 2020, and if in a crowd, keep your head on a swivel while enjoying and having as much fun as possible, these troubled days! I hope my word of the year in twelve months is something like “wonderful”!

I’ve made it a point to live in a few cities which were unkind to my black American slavery ancestors, partly due to my years as a radio disc jockey and lately, just because we can now. The latest was in Virginia, the state which, ironically, is the setting for the 2016 movie, “Loving”, which I recently rented from the public library after seeing the trailer prior to a different film.

Directed by Jeff Nichols, this isn’t just a romance story as its title might suggest. The Lovings and this “Commonwealth” state were the centerpiece for a landmark US Supreme Court case, Loving v Virginia and the 1967 decision which erased laws that made interracial marriages criminally illegal in the United States. I didn’t know this – or probably forgot the nuances of that high school American history lesson – until watching this movie revived those facts. This was going on while I was a young teen growing up in New York City where everybody went steady with anybody you liked! Wow. Scary.

“I’m pregnant” are the first words uttered by Mildred, played by Ruth Negga (interesting surname for this type of story, don’t you think?) to which Richard Loving, played by Joel Edgerton (famous for his role in “Black Mass”) replied, “Good. That’s real good.” The progress of the story tries your patience to get into, but is worth the wait. It could be categorized a docu-drama and used as a teaching tool!

All through the film, I kept asking, “who ratted them out?” Getting rousted out of bed in the middle of the night and offed to jail by the mean ole KKK-ish sheriff, played to the hilt by Marton Csokas (“Noah”, “The Equalizer”, “Aeon Flux”), cold southern drawl and all. “That’s no good here..” – pretty good for a New Zelander – just for being in love. They even threw Mildred in jail while pregnant and in her bath robe! One thing that hasn’t changed to this day is a woman getting pregnant out of wedlock, I noticed. Richard didn’t hesitate to ‘make an honest woman’ out of Ruth, however. You’ll see some slightly amusing “city-country-city” cultural moments among the uncomfortable heartbreak.

This is a reminder of many shameful episodes of America’s racial integration past, the vestiges of which some among us still struggle to eradicate. Watching it conjured emotions of anger, sadness and resolute hope deep inside. I couldn’t help wondering if this is why Virginia gives me a kind of weird vibe sometimes; like suppressed parsimony is in its soil.

During the end credits, they show photos of the original couple portrayed and I cheered the Casting Director, Francine Maisler.

I feel this film with four stars and can’t help wondering how the Supreme Court would have ruled if the man was a black American and the woman Caucasian; would it have even gotten the same attention and to the Chief Justices?

Pickhit: Thank you to WordPress for noticing that this is the date of my 10th anniversary here. Thank you, dear reader for reading my words!

Attention: This is my 300th blog post here since November, 2009 and this month I mark the milestone: ten-years of blogging!!

Always a kind of counter-culture kind of a guy walking and dancing to the beat of a different drum, working the overnight shift playing music on the radio came easy for me. It was also encouraged by my mentors as a way not to become stereotyped as ‘just another black radio jock’ and allowed me to play mainstream, Top 40 music. The catch was, the powers that be usually only let the ‘black guy’ pull the overnight shift. I was okay with it.

I’m one of the kids of the 1960s who listened to his first transistor AM radio – a Zenith – under the pillow in his room when I was supposed to be asleep, parents in their room, not too far away, with my dad trying to put me down by calling me “an owl” whenever they caught me. I like “owl”; he was giving me a compliment. Why do everything like everybody else? I grew to never wanting to be part of the “Rat Race” of drones on the same rush hour, every morning and the same rush hour in the evening, day after day. Nyet! Nope. Going to work at 11PM, though sometimes hard, back when I was addicted to television, was always more fun once I got there, and the morning payoff of going home to chill with a beverage, maybe a female fan from my show or just to sleep while the world was awakening again was just really chill!

Little did I know, that the graveyard shift was resetting my body clock forever.

Or maybe I was born with that overtime set to my circadian rhythm’s DNA and the fate of career choices visa v the compliments I received on how my voice sounded over the air, extracted that natural inclination?

I surely adapted to it easily and it was fun, except when the day-timers at the job scheduled staff meetings back at the station in the middle of what was my “night” – sometimes as early as 11 AM – those would take me literally a couple of days or nights to recover from, and became sources of contention when I asked for a little consideration from the diurnal management.
I was fully committed to the day-coffin, learning to use heavy curtains with linings that would turn my day room to night until my alarm clock awakened me to watch the hottest soap opera of that era, General Hospital” with Luke and Laura at 3pm.

Recently, I began reflecting upon the radio stations boards which I learned to jock during the third shift throughout my two score on the air, at a point when I learned about the sale or demise of the name brand that I saw all the time but took for-granted, Gates.

Not sure if this one from my first commercial station, WFLB AM, is a Gates. Maybe your keen, expert eye can spot the characteristics.

Most of them had the Gates insignia on them until I graduated to stations in the mid-1980s that had sliding faders instead of round knobs we called pots.

The next one my research recognizes is the one I bounced with on WBSS FM, “BOSS 97”, Atlantic City, New Jersey fifteen years after ‘FLB. It is the Gates Executive 2.

Meanwhile, I learned that there is a whole world of fellow graveyard shifters who shared my unique pain mixed with laughter. Its almost cult-like…I developed “honored groups of the nyte” to acknowledge and play requests for such as hospital worker, cooks, street sweepers, bakers, bartenders, toll collectors, night watchmen, security guards,law enforcement types, like the detective who used to call into my show and ultimately invited me for a couple of boilermakers at this basic bar, at the unheard of hour of six A.M.! He became like a bodyguard for me up there in Worcester.
Next is a board that reminds me of the one I worked at New York City’s 1600, WWRL AM:

My unofficial research gleans that working the midnight shift may have altered when my body naturally produces melatonin! “Peak levels of melatonin are produced before 3 a.m., when it sharply decreases before natural daylight returns. (Higher levels of melatonin have been measured in the fall and winter when the days are shorter, thus the reason you may be sleepier in the winter months.)”  Wow, that might explain why I still can stay up with the best of ’em!
Even as I write this post #300, most of them are edited during the wee hours of the early morning – after midnight (an Eric Clapton song, btw).

Pickhit: On this “Blog Post #300” and upon our 10 Year Anniversary with WordPress, I was pondering what I would post so momentously. Originally pitched as a source of income in 2009 by an acquaintance, nothing of the sort has materialized – milestone not achieved.
I guess I came to keep doing this as writing practice, an outlet for free expression and a way to display my contemporary music knowledge via the amazing YouTube video attachments which accentuate my opinions and reviews.

***Thank you dear reader, who have happened by to peek and read my public “diary”. The private one? I will save for you, who I shall leave behind in the physical realm, someday. This is a milestone.
Peace.

File under: Pet Peeves; conversation overheard.

Her Dad is 95, living alone in New Jersey and has appointment to see a specialist about a serious medical diagnosis and his Home Attendant, who is from Senegal, is to accompany him.

From Utah, Pam, the daughter, one of four siblings who rotate in regularly and is charged as his health proxy, calls the morning of the appointment to find out that their main Home Attendant has taken an unscheduled vacation which the agency did not notify her of and with an hour to go, her dad is with this newcomer and still not up, dressed and fed. Livid but trying to remain cordial, she asks to speak to the replacement Attendant, Temish – who is from Ghana. She wonders to herself why the Agency sends no candidates from The States who can speak better English and are assimilated into American culture these days. A fight with them is for a future day. For now, the appointment is crucial.

When she tells the new Attendant of the magnitude of the appointment and how they have to be picked up in an hour, all the replacement says is, “
I know. I know…” This is one of Pam’s pet peeves and the following conversation ensues:

“This is an important appointment.
I know.
You guys are getting picked-up in an hour.
I know.
The sky is blue gaga today.
I kn-n-n… (stuttering ensues)”

“Stop saying ‘I know’! If you knew, then you’d be up and Dad would ‘know’ he has an appointment. He is still not up, has not eaten breakfast and doesn’t remember this.
Never say to me, ‘I know’ – better to say “I understand” and then do not fear asking questions for further guidance.
Nobody “know” all, especially since you’re not from here in The States. Nobody “know” all who cannot be educated – not even me. With my Dad I can help you with and I must help you hear me – to know him and our customs better. Do you understand?”
[silence]

“I don’t know you, Temish
So to me, your mind is like and bread box with half of a loaf inside.
To me you know nothing of our ways.”
[more silence]

“I used to say, “I know…” to the elders who tried to teach me when I was growing up right there where you are right now. It is like a mental block by a stubborn child who does not want to hear nor be taught.
Except that now, adult-looking people use it as a crutch when they come to our country, trying to hold onto their own culture and not assimilate into the western lifestyle, while not admitting it. In your case, it is dismissive of me trying to help.
So, Never say, ‘I know’ because you likely don’t know. Instead, think of something to ask or add as a reply to the conversation – and with that, you will complete the communication.”
“Okay.” (progress?)

Its been a long time since an episode of “Bachelor Cooking” posted!

Not a single recipe since I was dating Inna earlier this decade, and while the hurt from those failed relations (nobody’s fault but the money) will never go away until I mend that loss with a more stable Украина женщина, I decided to follow up my “Columbus Day Top Ten” reasons post with what I created for my Italian-style Columbus Day After-parade dinner. I’ve been on a cooking “roll” (no pun intended) lately, and its a shame that I have no lady to share them with. I digress…back to the dish and not the “dish”.

This “hot” Italian sausage and spinach dish came out “restaurant quality” in my opinion. You can use just about any firm pasta as the base so long as it withstands the sausage and tomatoes; I chose Rigatoni, but Penne, Rotini or shells would work!

In the wake of Columbus Day 2019 and the inspiration of watching it from outside of NYC on WABC7NY television that glorious Monday, I wanted to extend and so I imagined, what kind of food I could make similar to what would be enjoyed in the Little Italy that evening for my own post-parade party. Before a recent trip, I stocked my provisions in the fridge and I had a craving for hot Italian sausage, which I hadn’t had the opportunity to grill all summer as I would have in normal years past. 2019 has not been a “normal” year; I’ll tell you why in a couple more posts.

So, I came up with this simple celebration of taste where you’ll only need one pot and your large black iron frying pan to create a restaurant-quality dish! I’d just recently became reacquainted with my heavy pan which was in storage, seasoned it with some extra virgin olive oil (EVOO) and put aside overnight in a cooling oven.

Therefore, when I began this dish by sauteing three hot Italian sausages on number 2.5, if your range is electric or medium-low if gas, it was ready to rock and roll. Simultaneously, prepare half-pound of Rigatoni in another two-quart pot with a dash of seas salt tossed in the water. Make sure you put three cuts on each sausage like you would a hot dog on the grill – it will make them easier to chunk with your metal spoon, spatula or precise-knife!

While that is cooking, get one onion, three garlic cloves ( or a couple teaspoons of pre-minced from the jar, half a bag of frozen (unless you want to do it yourself fresh) pre-sliced “three peppers (yellow, read & green) mix”, one can of diced peppers, a half can of tomato paste and half-bag fresh spinach (not “baby”) ready on the side to join the action. When the sausage starts to sizzle, I turn them and lace with a hand-full of Italian seasoning from my spice carousel. Cook your pasta according to the directions on the box and set aside.

After about 7 minutes, take the chunks of sausage out of the pan put in a little tin warm-foil and set aside on your stove top. Drain any excess oil from the heavy pan – but not all! Lower heat and add your garlic, chop three-quarters of a yellow onion, stir and raise the heat to medium or 4.5 on the electric range. Stir a lot and add your tomatoes (with juice),tomato paste, a splash of a red-wine beet marinade and four drops of Filippo Berio Raspberry Glaze with Balsamic vinegar and a little palm-full of hot red-pepper flakes from my spice carousel. Cook it about 10 minutes and stir often to mix it up! Remove from heat.

Drain the Rigatoni, toss with a splash of evoo and couple dashes of dried Basil. Add spinach. I transferred it to my big, silver chef’s bowl and mixed all up really good with my chef’s wooden spoon, until the spinach was wilted. Add sausage and really mix-up and toss as all ingredients now have a party going on in the bowl!

Transfer a portion to a serving dish and top with a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese… “Viola!”

A nice, room-temperature glass of authentic Chianti completes this meal!

This definitely extended the Columbus Day feeling for the rest of the week as I (of course) have copious leftovers in my brand new resealable container, tempting me to munch every time I open the fridge.

As with a stew, it was even better the second serving! “Light-bulb!!! Maybe you can use this recipe for your upcoming NFL Super Bowl party!
Enjoy and please let me know how you liked it!
And now a word from our classic commercials…

1 – It gives me a nostalgic, Fall holiday feeling because, growing up in what was arguably the best public school system in America, New York City’s from the late 1950s through the early 1970s, we had to learn about Christopher (Cristoforo) Columbus [1451 – 1506] and his romanticized voyage in addition to getting another day off from the new school year! First report cards, Veteran’s Day and Thanksgiving were on the horizon!

2 – Occurring a few days after the Jewish New Year and Yom Kippur, it reminds me of our collective cultural heritage as Americans.

3 – His voyage proved the earth is not flat! Imagine only knowing Europe, Asia and maybe Africa as the totality of the planet and then sailing east of your world, trying to find a short-cut to the Far East (the Orient) without knowing if you would fall off the edge into oblivion! That was the prevailing geography of Columbus’ era!! He was truly courageous.

4 – Now THAT’s Italian! Even though he set sail from Spain, Columbus was born in Genoa, Italy. Columbus Day is an Italian celebration! Among our earliest immigrants to “the melting pot”, they are one of my favorite nationalities and some of the coolest paisans who’ve given us pizza, pasta, romantic music and not to mention movies like The Godfather, gangsters, many streets named “Columbus” (like “Columbus Circle in NYC), and beautiful women like Sophia Loren! I recall an Italian girl named Marie from my first job at an A&P food store; she used to come in with her mom and I was the sixteen year old produce clerk weighing and bagging her melons, etc. If only I wasn’t so shy back then, I would have asked her to a movie and possibly changed my history – we definitely had some chemistry!

5 – Little Italy. There is one in every major city, but New York City’s is the most famous and where the food in the many restaurants and bars is off the chain deeee-licious. It’s sure to be poppin’ down there Monday night!

6 – The Nina. His flagship, sailed 25,000 miles under Columbus’ command and was his favorite of the three ships. Real name was the Santa Clara after the patron saint, but took the nickname from her owner, Juan Nino of Moguer. I think “Nina” means “the girl”.

7 – The Pinta. Like the Nina, a Caravel ship, light and fast; commonly used by explorers of those days. The most mysterious of the trio, she returned home and apparently that is all that is known.

8 – And The Santa Maria. The least favored by Columbus was the heaviest of them all; a cargo ship. Must have been a keen trick to keep track of all!

9 – The Parades!

10 – This Poem that helped us learn about the history of Columbus Day:

“In fourteen hundred ninety-two
Columbus sailed the ocean blue.
He had three ships and left from Spain;
He sailed through sunshine, wind and rain.
He sailed by night; he sailed by day;
He used the stars to find his way.
A compass also helped him know
How to find the way to go.
Ninety sailors were on board;
Some men worked while others snored.
Then the workers went to sleep;
And others watched the ocean deep.
Day after day they looked for land;
They dreamed of trees and rocks and sand.
October 12 their dream came true,
You never saw a happier crew!
“Indians! Indians!” Columbus cried;
His heart was filled with joyful pride.
But “India” the land was not;
It was the Bahamas, and it was hot.
The Arakawa natives were very nice;
They gave the sailors food and spice.
Columbus sailed on to find some gold
To bring back home, as he’d been told.
He made the trip again and again,
Trading gold to bring to Spain.
The first American? No, not quite.
But Columbus was brave, and he was bright.”

Pickhit: I’ve noticed that some southeastern U.S. states, in what must be misguided, immature rebelliousness, gloss-over Columbus Day, previously celebrated on October 12th, the date he landed on our shores, universally across the land – and now on the second Monday – by renaming it shamefully as a “Professional Learning Day” while giving students the day off, ignoring it completely or otherwise denying pupils one of the most colorful and interesting holidays which celebrates the combining world and American (“the new world”) histories.
There was Ameriggo, Leif and Magellan, but only Columbus got the title of “first”.

morph verb
morphed; morphing; morphs
Definition of morph
transitive verb: to change the form or character of : TRANSFORM

I don’t follow the NFL like I used to ten years ago, but in the wake of the Antonio Brown saga, which was on every tele screen at local Pubs, I must ask these questions:
Has the definition of “rape” changed? Has the definition of “rape” morphed?
What exactly now is “sexual misconduct”? Is it flirting? Has the definition of “flirting” changed? Am I glad I am not growing up in this era? (Yes!)

Dig me, I am a man and writing from a man’s perspective because I am only hearing these complaints when I am out and about, under restaurant TV screens. One convo goes, “Men can’t help it if we have a nut sack and it produces urges we want to use!”

For what is worth, it seems now that every American woman of the past thirty years may have been or was “raped or “sexually molested” at some point in their distant past, said nothing about it until now, when the “climate” and mores have apparently changed in their favor, and when the guy becomes famous or rich (or both), then they come forward to ruin him. The latest I heard about is Demi Moore doing the #MeToo! Really?? I remember when the deep, gravelly-voiced actress first appeared on General Hospital like, forty years ago! She showed no signs of trauma on the set. Did she tell Bruce Willis about it?

In these instances, why not a civil, private convo years ago when it happened?

All my scores of life, when I heard the four-letter word, “rape” it conjured images of a sex-crazed,”Jack-the-Ripper”-style insane maniac, grabbing a random woman who was maybe walking alone down a darkened street, into a dimly-lit alley and ripping her clothes off in a violent struggle despite her screams and forcibly penetrating her private parts with his dick, in a most savage manner. Has this definition changed?

AND now, as maybe with Mr. Brown, another super-testosterone-charged athlete, we have a different dynamic. I hear the word “consensual” in the mix. Which leads me to believe that there was maybe some playful foreplay involved which led the guy to want more and at first the woman would go “No, don’t…stop..” And then it led to, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop!” or something similar. Hmmm… So when this modern female thought about it later, I guess she decided, “I didn’t want that to happen, Ewww…” (even though she kinda enjoyed it at the time?) and one thought led to another, like the foreplay itself, which when mixed with the climate of TV news, money and fame morphed the mindset into her speaking out, where she maybe wouldn’t have in the past.

Mr. Brown, why did you have this cute female as your “trainer”? Don’t tough footballers need a man to train them? That choice had UNhappy ending written all over it, from any logical man’s perspective – but these overpaid guys are not thinking with the same “head” as we mere mortal men, right?

I’ve always wondered why a man would stoop to the conduct of rape, when there are such beings as Hookers, and massage parlors (with “happy ending”) and numerable other ways to “get some” much more easily in life – especially if you got long green to spend. Most curiously, how can you maintain an erection when struggling with someone to put it IN? How? How? How? I’ve had “problems” putting it IN when we both wanted it! lol So tell me please, what exactly are the mechanics of “rape” in the past and these days? Please describe in detail for us, what happens in “sexual harassment”?

Traveling overseas earlier this decade, I overheard how most of the rest of the world thinks about America’s sexuality, “They are Puritans publicly and perverts privately.” In other words, hypocrites.

My favorite song by Marvin Gaye is “Sexual Healing”; it was the top of the charts. Do you mean to tell me that if it was released today, it would be associated with “rape”? If so, then America is a country many men need to leave, because there obviously has been an updated definition of “rape”, the memo and specifics about which were not distributed to American men at-large. “Healing”, is what I’m feeling we all need.

“Get up, get up, get up, get up
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up

Ooh baby, now let’s get down tonight

[Verse 1]
Baby I’m hot just like an oven
I need some lovin’
And baby, I can’t hold it much longer
It’s getting stronger and stronger

[Chorus]
And when I get that feeling
I want Sexual Healing
Sexual Healing, oh baby
Makes me feel so fine
Helps to relieve my mind
Sexual Healing baby, is good for me
Sexual Healing is something that’s good for me

[Verse 2]
Whenever blue tear drops are falling
And my emotional stability is leaving me
There is something I can do
I can get on the telephone and call you up baby, and
Honey I know you’ll be there to heal me
The love you give to me will free me
If you don’t know the thing you’re dealing
Oh I can tell you, darling, that it’s Sexual Healing

(Get up, Get up, Get up, Get up)
Let’s make love tonight
(Wake up, Wake up, Wake up, Wake up)
‘Cause you do it right

[Bridge]
Baby I got sick this morning
A sea was storming inside of me
Baby I think I’m capsizing
The waves are rising and rising

[Chorus]
And when I get that feeling
I want Sexual Healing
Sexual Healing is good for me
Makes me feel so fine, it’s such a rush
Helps to relieve the mind, and it’s good for us
Sexual Healing, baby, it’s good for me
Sexual Healing is something that’s good for me
And it’s good for me and it’s so good to me
My baby ohhh

[Verse 3]
Come take control, just grab a hold
Of my body and mind soon we’ll be making it
Honey, oh we’re feeling fine
You’re my medicine open up and let me in
Darling, you’re so great
I can’t wait for you to operate

(Heal me my darling)
I can’t wait for you to operate

[Chorus]
When I get this feeling
I need Sexual Healing
Oh when I get this feeling
I need Sexual Healing
I gotta have Sexual Healing, darling
‘Cause I’m all alone
Sexual Healing, darling
‘Till you come back home

Please don’t procrastinate
It’s not good to masturbate”

“Damned smartphone!” lol

Pet Peeve number “5,000″…

Remember this?

My first “cellphone” and,

At least it did not intrude on my mood!

Neither did it remind me;

Harken to those days of sanity.

If you were born prior to 1989 you are saved;

Who can keep count these days?

Don’t you hate it when you text someone,

Then they call you right back before you finish?

If you wanted to TALK to them,

YOU would have called in the first place!

Or Don’t you get annoyed when

You are calling someone,

Their voice mail comes on and,

Just as you are wrapping up your voice-mail,

That person is CALLING you,

Without even having listened to your voice-mail?!

You could have just tex’d them!

What’s the use in their outgoing message?

I feel then like I should have hung up on myself!

Silly smart-phone configurations perpetuate,

Conflicting communications with intrusive settings,

Unfocused communication in the middle of calls!

With options to opt-out of the conversation,

Says Alexander Graham Bell,

“What the hell?”

Let us only hearken back to a Virgin who

Was my first lover;

Of flip cell phones.

I sent her a score of indigo flowers then ago,

When this instant communication didn’t happen

And a lonely “Blackberry” was the IN thing.

Even our cool beans President had one!

With the lack of annoyance,

He made leadership non-intrusive fun.

I’d rather hear your voice;

Email, sms/text or talking?

When I was a DJ on 98.7 KISS FM,

Our slogan slug line was,

“More Music, Less Talk”.

Today, it would be

“More texting, Less talk”.

[…to be continued to fix it…”]

In September of 2001, many things in my life were new: I was the new Nights (7 p.m. – midnight) man entertaining on a little AM radio station in Nashville, Tennessee. I’d do my show and then off I’d go to check out some local DJs in my new Music City. Mostly, I checked out Liquid Lounge (before it became “Elements”) till about 3 A.M., looking for new club DJ opportunities and then go a short distance from my new downtown, back to my new little two bedroom cottage.

This was still the pre-cell phone era and I only had a land line and cassette tape- based answering machine which I based in my other room, across the hall in my studio room from my bedroom and had an incredibly long cord, which allowed me to be on the “princess” phone all over the house and even out on my little front stoop. I didn’t have my first home computer yet and there were still pay phones everywhere!

So I’d sleep from like 4 a.m. until maybe noon, unless I had some special morning interaction to attend or a gig; such is the life of the second and third shift radio man and many other alternative hour workers.

Then the phone rang around 10 or 11 a.m. I guess, and I heard the machine come on in the other room, and maybe my friend, Monique’s voice say something as I slept – and ignored it. Soon, the phone rang another time and I recognized her voice again! At this point I picked it up and my friend Monique says, “Turn on the TV!” I’m like, “No, I’m sleeping…” or something to that effect. She insisted and then I fumbled around and found the remote to turn it on. What I saw I thought was a movie, in the purple haze of awakening. “Why you want me to watch this movie, Mo?” I must have asked. She said something like, “No! A plane hit the World Trade Center!!” I began to sit up in my bed and just about then, the second plane hit the other tower. Shock. At that moment, I knew that this was no movie.

As I watched the coverage that fateful afternoon, I’d almost forgotten that I had a “show” to do that evening – and the more I thought about it, the more I didn’t want to perform it. – I was bummed to the max! Calling my Mum in on Long Island, I asked could she smell the smoke and she said “Yes.” So I called my Program Director to ask him out of my show that night, but instead of empathy for my feelings, he replied, in, what I’ve learned is typical southern black American ignorance, “Aww man, its just a plane hit a building. G’wan in and do your show!” At that point, my respect for him, being in his position only because he was the station owner’s son, went from like and “eight” to a “one” on a scale of one to ten. How dare he condescend, knowing that my roots are at the base of the World Trad Center and having been in my house where I had a wall-sized poster of them and the whole southern tip of Manhattan above my bed!

Writing this now, I know that the rebel in me wanted to call out, but I think that my inner “Dan Rather” made me go in that evening, but not to do my usual “party” radio show. Instead, I opened-up the phones to my new Nashville local listeners, to let them air their impressions of the day’s attack. Many were initially sort of clueless, to my disappointment, but as my program grew into the evening, I remember that the discussions became more spirited and that many of my listeners knew that I was from there and expressed their empathy to me, if not for the national implications, for me as someone they only met through the radio who identified with New York City. It was the most solem show I remember in my professional radio career – I hardly played any music and we lived for the top of the hour network updates for five hours that night.

Last night, on the cusp of eighteen years later and trying to go to sleep, I wished I could listen to that show; probably taped it on a cassette which is likely in storage with much of my belongings from those days that I cannot get to it because of my poverty, having chosen that radio career path, which has imploded for me like those beloved towers fell.

In closing, I must remind you to carry the message that we have young people in school now who have no recollection of that treacherous attack. So it is super- important that we teach them the magnitude of that day like the Pearl Harbor surprise attack was for the generation of my parents was.

Since 2016 or thereabouts, we as Americans have lost that unity that came about in the wake of those horrific and cowardly attacks. I close by asking you, my dear reader, to help bring back that sense of togetherness-of-purpose-umbrella, which we all gathered under after September 11, 2001.

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