One Nation, Under Stars...

The lights came up on a cheering crowd that moments before were singing along to one of the most well known songs of the last fifty years – “Midnight Train To Georgia.” It was a warm and humid summer night at the outdoor amphitheater in the heart of Atlanta. Flashes of lightning raced across the evening sky announcing to us that the surrounding severe storms were being held at bay just long enough for us to finish our celebration.
We were watching Gladys Knight close out her half of the night’s entertainment with great anticipation for Smokie Robinson to come later. As the lights came up on the audience cheering the performance the crowd suddenly struck me in a way that they had not in my previous visits to this same venue to watch other such stars filled performances reminiscent of my youth. There was a good representation of the Atlanta social strata – at least those with enough money to be in attendance for the one-night performance of two of the great legends of Motown Records who were giving us a great show.
But the show was not what struck me – it was the crowd. In a quick moment I saw a picture of us that spoke thousands of words…
There was no break in the cross section of people that we have been told exists. We were ALL there singing and cheering together. Our media and certain politicians continually pound on our differences and try to drive wedges between us as a cultural group. I realize it’s their own attempt to be able to relate to us and ‘cubbyhole’ our interests, but it occurred to me that they are missing the point. Their divisive hate-speech prism no longer fits us. America has moved on, grown and matured.
We all listened as one faceless crowd to these two great performers croon from across the decadess and we were there to admire them and reminisce with them. They told their stories of coming from nothing and becoming superstars… They embodied ‘The American Dream Realized.’ They were the soundtracks that made up our lives. At the same time, they were showing us that our lives were all intermingled into one shared culture. We all had our own individual memories of their songs and what they meant to us, but while they represented individuality they were representative of a shared experience for us ALL as well. Among the gray hairs and baldheads were flashes of the youth we all were forced to leave behind while at the same time there was a look at the long road we have traveled. We now are showing the signs of age, but there is a bond there between us all. We were of a time of change in America that brought us from the tumult of the 1950s to the unity of the 2000s. No… we’re not perfect yet – get real – but we’ve all grown closer together as a nation. Those of the ‘hate nation’ – from ANY side – are no longer tolerated by the general public; THEY are now the pariahs. Words of derision and anger are working their way out of our lexicons to be replaced by a feeling of a shared path. And, no, it’s not our leaders or Hollywood or the media who are taking us down that path, it is an awakening of our own spirit and a recognition of our own ‘oneness as a nation’ that is moving us along.
And in that moment of recognition with that crowd at an open-air amphitheatre in the heart of the Old South – I was proud of us all. We have come a long way and it was OUR generation that brought us along that road. TOGETHER we will go the rest of the way to putting ‘hate nation’ people in a museum so future generations can look on them and ask, “What the hell were they thinking?”

Losing The Rat Pack

Every once in awhile I come across a place that reminds me of 'days-gone-by' and they cause me to lament what we have lost as a society.
This time it was a restaurant and cigar bar hidden away just off a main street nestled neatly in the middle of the 1960s. I'd tell you where it is, but... NO. That would be like finding THE perfect deserted beach then telling everyone where it is. The next thing you know there'd be a resort planted on it with thousands of people trouncing MY sand and I'd have to go on a quest to find the new perfect deserted beach. And there just aren't that many of them left!! Well, this cigar bar and restaurant are the same way... there just aren't that many of them left… so, NO.
A good friend of mine deemed me WORTHY of sharing this secret Mecca and to whom I will be forever grateful. As soon as I walked in I saw men at the bar smoking quality cigars and I knew I was in the 'right place.' I had to pinch myself to see if I was still alive. Had I gotten run over by a bus on the way here and now I was dead?? This HAD to be Heaven. There were men smoking cigars in the bar!!! I thought there was nowhere left in the country where people could do THAT!!
My next reaction was to get in quick and lock the doors before the 'Smoking Gestapo' found out that we were smoking cigars in there!!! People smoking cigars in an enclosed area within a city limit!! What were we thinking?! What am I thinking? You can't even smoke in the great outdoors nowadays, why would I think we could smoke ANYWHERE and not have 'Brown Shirts' breaking down the doors? Yet, everyone inside seemed unexcited by a new entrant to their secret society and totally unconcerned that they’d be discovered, so it must happen all the time.
Once we got settled in and ordered a couple martinis – which turned out to be HUGE and GOOD compared to what you get at most bars – I was able to take it all in. The place looked like a throwback to 'Rat Pack' days. I LOVED it! I expected Dean, Frank, Sammy, Peter and Joey to come in the door any second, sidle up to the bar and start talking to the ‘broads.’ Perfection… And food to match. Low on foo-foo, high on steaks and lobster.
But as I looked around another ton of bricks landed on me. We’re losing these little ‘finds’ every damned day. Just a week earlier I was in a couple other restaurant-bars and the difference was… stark. First of all, cigars were absolutely FORBIDDEN even on the outside patio. They were glitzy, plastic and contrived – right down to the miniscule uniforms the girls wore. They were right out of some magazine – one of those ‘corporate cookie cutter’ magazines that shows us where we ‘should be’ dining as per some NYC office dweller. BS… I love the character that goes with the neighborhood place and the guys smoking cigars at the bar. It’s the REAL ‘authentic’ the other places are TRYING to capture and missing entirely.
Speaking of the ‘Rat Pack…’ brought to mind another thought. Las Vegas is a perfect example of what we’ve lost as Americana and the American Experience. The boys of the Rat Pack would barely recognize what’s there now. Back in THEIR day Vegas had character. It was grittier, bolder, wilder, more about gambling, drinking and sex and less about trying to be the Nevada Disneyland. Granted, there’s more money to be made from the ‘corporate’ angle, but look at what we’ve traded away.
We’re losing character in excahnge for our bottom lines – we’re trading away our souls to fill our pockets with gold. Is there such a thing as a happy medium? Can we save our character without destroying who we are?
Doubtful… Not any more…

Looking At Food

Just when I thought I was starting to make progress on the weight loss… I saw a picture of something that looked tasty and started getting fat again…
What is it about THIS AGE that all I have to do is THINK about food and I can put on weight??? There’s no sense in even eating – why waste the energy? All I have to do is picture it in my head and the pounds just pour on. I can drink water and think about ice cream and you’d think I was eating double churn vanilla the way the weight comes on…I hate getting old…

Strippers and Old Guys

See, this is why old people should stay out of strip bars – whatever it takes.
Let me explain. Bear with me… uh, no pun intended.
Okay, guys, you can back me up on this!! First of all, it’s a known fact among men that all men go to strip bars because they keep the beer at a colder temperature than other bars – NOT to ogle women like myth would have you believe. That was a lie created by angry women who jumped to the wrong conclusion when they caught their men in there with a lot of naked women – got unnecessarily and UNFAIRLY jealous because they refused to listen to reason – and has been perpetuated by the media’s inability to set the story straight. Let’s just put that all to rest right now. They keep the beer colder as a community service so we can nurse them longer and drink less. They want to make sure men are more sober when they hit the roads after some time in their bars keeping us ALL safer. ALL bars should be so considerate!!!
Now that we have THAT straight, let’s get down to what I was doing there – not that I should have to explain it to anyone at this point in my life. I’m too old for that stuff.
It was a birthday party for a woman friend of mine. Honest. The party was SUPPOSED to be at her house, but the GIRLS decided it would be fun to go over to the strip bar not far from her house to have the party – because they knew the beers are colder and they would drink less while still being in a great party atmosphere. When I left home I thought I was going to the house, but I got a call when I was almost there and had to divert to the bar. Honest. And, of course, the first thing I did when I got inside the bar was ordered one of those SUPER COLD beers because I know how good they are. I almost got a ‘cold headache’ from it the beer was so cold. Any colder and you’d have to have a spoon to get it out of the bottle. Wonderful.
Now, for those of you who have never been to a strip bar, let me tell you how this one was set up. There were three stages with poles – duh! The girls all took their turns on the stages and when they weren’t on the stages they were down… talking to… the patrons. Darn nice of them to demonstrate how talented they are and then come down and talk to the patrons, too. Some of them should be on the Olympic Pole Dancing Team. And if it’s NOT a sport yet, it SHOULD be. That takes some talent… AND to be able to do it naked and with a lot of people watching deserves AT LEAST a gold medal. Well, SOME of the patrons were watching. You see… there are about a fifty women on the floor at any one time – and I’m talking about the ones who work there. There are also a lot who show up to party – like we were – or to have some of those super cold beers. Word is getting out. Before you know it the strip clubs are going to be overrun by women who want to party and drink the cold beers and men are going to have to start looking for new places to get cold beers.
Now here's why old people should stay out of strip bars. First of all, it's not about the naked women. I think I might have been the oldest guy in the place and I was talking to the women – not ogling. The younger guys were trying to find ways to rub against the girls. When they came to me they had a little difficulty because I asked them questions and talked to them – not part of their normal routine. I don't think the men usually ask the girls questions other than to have a one of the waitresses bring another one of those super cold beers, so when they have this old man asking them about their lives they get a little flustered. Granted, a lap dance is a difficult time to talk, so I found talking to them without them grinding into my lap was easier.
It turns out a lot of them had similar stories - not all, of course – some just liked what they were doing – but several had stories that were difficult to hear. The economy is putting them out of work and there are very few jobs to be had so they are working as strippers to pay the bills. There are very few jobs in the world that women can work in and make a lot of money with very little training. For most jobs there's a lot of college involved followed by training programs followed by years of working on a career. Stripping only requires that women look good with their clothes off. And are able to bring SUPER COLD BEERS to keep the patrons happy. There were women who were real estate agents, bankers, teachers, business women and even a professional pilot. They were amazing women in their own rights, but the bottom fell out of the economy and their lives tossed them into ‘necessity.’ It was an eye opening look at the harsher side of life. They all had heard the stories from NYC of the professional women of Wall Street forced into working the poles in the strip clubs up there… and all the ones I talked to here agreed it was an understandable eventuality.
As the night wore on I became a kind of 'good luck charm' to the dancers. As the girls walked past they patted me on my baldhead on their way to the next moron who wanted to rub up on their bodies.
So, what I learned was there's more to strip clubs than cold beers. There are also a lot of women trying to survive until they can get back to their lives. It’s easy for people to judge those women, but there’s more to them than a naked body.
And that's why old people should stay out of strip bars. We have a way of taking away some of the mystique of the clubs.
Trust me, go for the COLD BEERS.

The Battle Of The Bulge

Why is it SOOOO easy to put ON weight and so hard to get it off again? When I was a kid I could eat like a horse and my weight stayed the same. I could GORGE on food – no matter what kind – and my weight stayed the same. NOW it seems that all I have to do is LOOK at food and the weight goes on. And not in the proportions I ate it, either. NOOOO!! Food multiplies as I eat it and adds twice its weight to my love handles as I take in!!! So now I have to eat in much smaller amounts than I SHOULD have to just to stay even.
And why does it NEVER come off in the places I WANT it to come off? It always comes off NEXT TO where I want it to come off so that where I WANT it to come off looks even BIGGER!!! Lose the love handles??? NOOOOO. Lose above and below so the love handles look even BIGGER!!! Great… there’s nothing sexier in an old man than a bird-chest and big love handles. God loves his little jokes…
I know there are about a million diets out there – and I know they all work to one degree or another. The ones that advertise you’ll lose 200 pounds in a week are usually the ones to steer away from, but most of the others get the weight off with some kind of torture or other. “Eat only cardboard” or “Put a picture of a fat person on your refrigerator” (I think they may have discounted that the ‘fat person’ in the picture is actually the size we are trying to get down to) or “Eat only .” Whatever the diet they always get the weight off of you – and sometimes you have to be a little more patient than you want to be, but it still comes off. The problem is KEEPING it off!!!
For every million diets - and there seems to be at least that many - there are a handful of ‘maintenance programs.’ Perpetual diet and exercise seems to be the most predominant programs (continual torture for the rest of your life, basically), but it seems that the one that makes the most sense – as an aging person – is the timing of the meals. Eat the larger meals earlier in the day and eat smaller meals LATER in the day. Because as our bodies changed over the years we slowed down the digestive process. I’ve talked to all kinds of nutritionalists, personal trainers, doctors, nurses and read some of those celebrities who think they have something to add (and rarely do) – and the bottom line is you have to pay attention to WHEN you eat as well as how much. Because our bodies are slower than they used to be we have to eat our big meal earlier in the day. Sorry about that. I know we all like to sit around and watch night TV with our dinner, but that is when you should be having a VERY SMALL dinner or nothing at all. What you take in late is NOT going to get processed and you're going to end up with it in places you don't want it. Personally, I like to have popcorn without STUFF (that wonderful artery clogging butter!!) and my evening cocktail. Hey, get over it. There are some things I’m willing to give up and some things I plan to keep, even if I DO have to walk a few extra miles every day!!! I’ll give up the food, but the cocktail is NECESSARY to get through the kids and grandkids!!! I'm sure you could find a doctor or two who will tell me that will kill me, but when I was at the bar with my doctor the other night we BOTH had to agree alcohol is a necessary evil. She said there's always going to be SOMETHING that is going to kill us, but if you ask most of the 'centurians' how they lived so long the majority agree they had a shot or two to 'take the edge off' the day. Well, I'll probably from '8 Line' bus poisoning when I can't get out of its way fast enough, but I plan to go out happy. And that means I'm keeping the alcohol and the occassional cigar. Get over it.

Spring Pain

As each spring rolls around and the “get the yard trimmed up” and the “get in shape for the summer” bugs buzz in, there has to be a HUGE influx at the hospital from those of us who should know better than to be out there acting like we’re still kids. Yeah, we SHOULD know better, but it's one of those lessons we have to relearn every year. After all, it doesn't hurt when we're doing it – at least not for a long time. It's tomorrow and the day after that are going to get us.
All athletes grudgingly recognize when it's time to hang up the cleats. They postpone it as long as they can, but there comes a day when the ‘kids’ are quicker, stronger and no matter how hard the ‘old guys’ work they can no longer keep up. NO ONE wants to admit the years are passing us by. However, having said that, spring brings a whole new mindset to the aging fight - one that usually has a painful reminder at the end.
Today is a beautiful day in the Southeastern United States. It's spring. Pollen, bugs and love are all in the air. Suddenly, people who have been locked up in their houses all winter are out mowing their lawns, trimming bushes, going for jogs, hiking or working on that tan, going to the park or finding new ways to enjoy the day.
It's a wonderful thing - in theory.
Practice is a whole different matter when "you're not as young as you used to be." Spring is a cruel reminder of that fact. Putting aside the spider and snake bites, the painful sunburns, cases of poison ivy and poison oak, the lawn implement accidents, the heart attacks and those who got pecked because they thought the baby Canadian Geese were cute right up until the hissing parent geese took a chunk out of those who got too close. Let's put all that insanity aside for now. Instead, let's concentrate on the overexertion MOST of us above the age of 40 (and a lot who are younger, too) are going to feel tomorrow morning - and a few days after that.
All us ‘warriors’ go out there and take up the challenge every spring to fight off the onset of old age – well, some of us might be escaping the spouse and kids, but we’ll deal with that another time. We go face the elements and we try to drag out bodies into the same decade as our minds – even though that gap is always widening.
Ben Gay sales have GOT to go through the roof this time of year. Chiropractors, doctors and emergency rooms for us old warriors have to be extra busy. Then there are the painkillers we're all going to be taking for the next few days. The whole country will be walking around in a drooling daze until the muscles start to get a little tone back in them. No matter how young we THINK we are nor how good of shape we were in before winter set in last year and we went into hibernation, every year we're a little further from being "in shape" than we were last year this time and it's going to take a little longer to get back to even where we were LAST year. It's a sad reality we all fight tooth-and-nail.
So I thought we all could use a little solace. While you're sitting there nursing your pains pleading for someone to bring you a drink, icing your joints and muscles and deciding how many pills it will take to make it stop hurting, remember you're not alone in your pain. All of us SHOULD have known better. Hey… it's nothing some ice, Ben Gay and a few aspirin can't fix, right?
Maybe we'll remember NEXT weekend to slow it down a little!

Canceling Playboy

My kids have entirely ruined ‘Playboy” magazine for me.
One of the breakout moments of my life was when I started getting ‘Playboy’ sent to the house when I was a teenager. Wow! How cool!! Mom HATED it and Dad told me to read them in my room, but it was COOL! Granted, the women were OLDER than me at that point, but woohoo, I was the only kid on the block – probably in the city - getting the ‘Playboy’ delivered to the house. Of course, I was getting it for the articles (wink, wink) like every other red-blooded American guy does, but the women were a GREAT distraction between articles.
Well, the years have gone by and I had to cancel my subscription to ‘Playboy.’ I HAD to give it up… WHEN did Hef start hiring BABIES to be the foldouts?? OH MY GOD!! Granted, the women I looked at when I was a kid and thought they were SOOO hot are now grandmothers in their 60s, but what happened?? Now I see the women in the magazine and I feel like I should be looking over my shoulder for one of those camera crews to come arrest me for looking at KIDS!!!
I blame it ENTIRELY on MY kids. They are now older than the models in the magazine and that makes me feel like I need a shower! When my kids and their friends ran around in skimpy clothes I sent them off to put on more clothes. I think that’s when I knew it was time for ‘Playboy’ to go. When I was THEIR age – my kids and their friends – I was looking for the girls to take it off!! Now time has passed me by and I’m telling the kids to go put clothes ON!! Sorry, Hef… You know I love you, but… you need to start a magazine with WOMEN in it, not kids. Forty and up ONLY!!! There’s a market for it out here. As a large percentage of the population moves into our… second half… we need to have REAL women to look at that are not going to get us arrested! Or make us FEEL like we’re going to be arrested. So, another of the icons of my youth has fallen by the wayside. What is the world coming to???