TOP TEN Bernard Madoff Things You Don't Know.
Madoff's favorite film: Wall Street
Charles Ponzi was a boy scout next to Madoff.
Madoff's alter ego: Gordon Gecko.
Madoff is the new poster boy for greed.
Madoff is no better than a murdering gangster.
Webster's Dictionary needs a new defining entry describing his heinous acts.
Madoff needs to enlist the aid of a good taster in the prison cafeteria.
We must guard against members of his family profitting from a book deal.
Madoff should spend his prison time writing apologies to everyone he's cheated.
150 years doesn't come close to the sentence he should get...the death penalty.
Monday, June 29, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
OLD THINGS STICK
Wistfully, where are they now? The hardwood boxes with smoothed down edges, burnished brass marine fixtures, musical instruments, harmonicas and saxes playing Hugo Alfven's Swedish Rhapsody, soft leather polo pony saddles, cherry pipe tobacco, maple wood smoked armchairs from many fireside chats, shotguns and pistols from any Civil War, Cartier-Bresson black and white photographs, bottles with bubbles in blue, green, stately pigeon encrusted statues, wooden sail boats, bicycles with a single gear and horse drawn carriages, old gilded mirrors but most of all old people with the roadmaps of their lives etched in their weathered faces, teachers, scientists and story tellers, especially so.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
LETTERMAN SHOULD GO
KNOCKED UP CROSSED THE LINE
David Letterman’s smarmy remark about Governor Sarah Palin’s 14 year old daughter Willow getting Knocked Up by A-Rod during the 7th inning at Yankee Stadium is offensive, insulting and unforgiveable. CBS fired radio host Don Imus for a less egregious comment concerning nappy haired basketball players. But this is TV, the ratings are up, and Les Moonves, CBS’s President & CEO, can only be ecstatic. So the dilemma is, will the number of new viewers and advertisers outnumber and outweigh the loss of viewers and advertising revenue? Firing Letterman is not an option; they have no suitable replacement. But they need to fire someone. Heads should roll, at least the head writers'.
NB: CBS advertisers you might consider boycotting: Old Navy, Johnson & Johnson, Kellogg’s, Southwest Airlines, Olive Garden and T-Mobile. If you want Letterman fired, call Les at CBS: 212-975-4321, or http://www.firedavidletterman.com
David Letterman’s smarmy remark about Governor Sarah Palin’s 14 year old daughter Willow getting Knocked Up by A-Rod during the 7th inning at Yankee Stadium is offensive, insulting and unforgiveable. CBS fired radio host Don Imus for a less egregious comment concerning nappy haired basketball players. But this is TV, the ratings are up, and Les Moonves, CBS’s President & CEO, can only be ecstatic. So the dilemma is, will the number of new viewers and advertisers outnumber and outweigh the loss of viewers and advertising revenue? Firing Letterman is not an option; they have no suitable replacement. But they need to fire someone. Heads should roll, at least the head writers'.
NB: CBS advertisers you might consider boycotting: Old Navy, Johnson & Johnson, Kellogg’s, Southwest Airlines, Olive Garden and T-Mobile. If you want Letterman fired, call Les at CBS: 212-975-4321, or http://www.firedavidletterman.com
Sunday, June 14, 2009
FISHERMEN ROCK & RULE
CASTING A WIDE NET: St. Mathew 4:18-23
Attending church on Sunday is always rewarding on so many levels but more often than not, for whatever reason, I don't make time for it finding an excuse or another. When I do go I often find myself distracted or zoning out completely. Today was different. I paid attention as the priest at St. Jude's read the Gospel, maybe because it had a sports theme, fishing, or maybe it was a message I needed to learn. Saint Mathew chronicles how Jesus walked along the banks of the Sea of Galilee until he meets brothers Peter and Andrew who were casting their nets. He invites them to join him and become fishers of men presumably because he saw how good they were at netting the small fry. Anyone who's ever tried to catch fish with a net knows how tough that can be. Christ must have been a heck of a good salesman because, so the story goes, they dropped their nets and signed on to the program. I think what he really said was Hey, I'm Jesus, you guys want to catch some really big ones? A short time later he made the same offer to another pair of fishing brothers James and John with the same result. They probably thought Pinch me, I must have died and gone to fish tournament heaven! Jesus had a good day. He went out scouting and recruited four of the twelve members of his fishing team. And in Peter he saw real talent, someone he could build a franchise around, a future hall of famer. Who knew fishers had such potential? Wonder what a team of footballers might have produced?
Attending church on Sunday is always rewarding on so many levels but more often than not, for whatever reason, I don't make time for it finding an excuse or another. When I do go I often find myself distracted or zoning out completely. Today was different. I paid attention as the priest at St. Jude's read the Gospel, maybe because it had a sports theme, fishing, or maybe it was a message I needed to learn. Saint Mathew chronicles how Jesus walked along the banks of the Sea of Galilee until he meets brothers Peter and Andrew who were casting their nets. He invites them to join him and become fishers of men presumably because he saw how good they were at netting the small fry. Anyone who's ever tried to catch fish with a net knows how tough that can be. Christ must have been a heck of a good salesman because, so the story goes, they dropped their nets and signed on to the program. I think what he really said was Hey, I'm Jesus, you guys want to catch some really big ones? A short time later he made the same offer to another pair of fishing brothers James and John with the same result. They probably thought Pinch me, I must have died and gone to fish tournament heaven! Jesus had a good day. He went out scouting and recruited four of the twelve members of his fishing team. And in Peter he saw real talent, someone he could build a franchise around, a future hall of famer. Who knew fishers had such potential? Wonder what a team of footballers might have produced?
Tuesday, June 09, 2009
DEJA VU
THE UNDERTAKER AND THE HITMAN.
TWA Terminal, John F. Kennedy International Airport, NY, NY. Parked along the median curb bending away from TWA's terminal in wait for the imminent arrival of a delayed flight I sat idly, distractedly looking out my soot-streaked window. It was early evening and grey afternoon shadows were rising. On the sidewalk 25 yards away, advancing counter clockwise, perpendicular to my line of vision, came a slight black Skycap maneuvering a small woman in a wheel chair. Just behind another skycap wheeled a rack piled with luggage. In stark contrast the vivid red caps were punctuation marks in an otherwise bland aeroscape. Lagging like an afterthought trudged an unremarkably ruddy faced pudgy man dressed in a gravely dark suit, his measured steps like an undertaker in a funeral. I could see from his signature profile Alfred Hitchcock. He was completely in character. I watched surreally until their automobile, seeming all the more like a hearse, disappeared. 5th Avenue @ 57th Street, NY, NY. Running late, walking north on 5th, arriving at the SW corner of 57th, I turned towards Bendel’s nearly runnning head on into a man holding a child in his hand. According to common street etiquette I should have yielded the right of way as he was making a south bound right hand turn. There was virtually no contact, the child was non-plussed but nevertheless I murmured something deferential. He was poker faced, reactionless and expressionless. Behind large framed glasses his deadpan gaze was matter of factly cool. I had seen those eyes before. La Voile Rouge, 4th @ Ocean Drive, South Beach, Florida. About 100 yards offshore a large fish breached the surface making sevaral surfaces passes north to south and back again before I dove in for a closer look. From the leisurely pattern I thought it couldn't be predatory as it exhibited the characteristic docile behaviour of a whale or porpoise. It was a manta or devil ray, with a 25 foot wingspan. Though rays look threatening they pose little danger, having small mouths with vestigial teeth that filter krill and plankton. The manta passed within 10 yards causing my blood to pumping madly as I floated in its path. Pulling myself out of the surf he was on the sand sitting in the shadow of an umbrella with an exotic woman in sunglasses and hat. He had a detached expression like a MD examining a specimen. Deja vu, Michael Caine. I think his mask, his public face serves two purposes; as he rests his facial, ocular muscles as good actors do, his intimidating gaze kept curious fans at bay.
TWA Terminal, John F. Kennedy International Airport, NY, NY. Parked along the median curb bending away from TWA's terminal in wait for the imminent arrival of a delayed flight I sat idly, distractedly looking out my soot-streaked window. It was early evening and grey afternoon shadows were rising. On the sidewalk 25 yards away, advancing counter clockwise, perpendicular to my line of vision, came a slight black Skycap maneuvering a small woman in a wheel chair. Just behind another skycap wheeled a rack piled with luggage. In stark contrast the vivid red caps were punctuation marks in an otherwise bland aeroscape. Lagging like an afterthought trudged an unremarkably ruddy faced pudgy man dressed in a gravely dark suit, his measured steps like an undertaker in a funeral. I could see from his signature profile Alfred Hitchcock. He was completely in character. I watched surreally until their automobile, seeming all the more like a hearse, disappeared. 5th Avenue @ 57th Street, NY, NY. Running late, walking north on 5th, arriving at the SW corner of 57th, I turned towards Bendel’s nearly runnning head on into a man holding a child in his hand. According to common street etiquette I should have yielded the right of way as he was making a south bound right hand turn. There was virtually no contact, the child was non-plussed but nevertheless I murmured something deferential. He was poker faced, reactionless and expressionless. Behind large framed glasses his deadpan gaze was matter of factly cool. I had seen those eyes before. La Voile Rouge, 4th @ Ocean Drive, South Beach, Florida. About 100 yards offshore a large fish breached the surface making sevaral surfaces passes north to south and back again before I dove in for a closer look. From the leisurely pattern I thought it couldn't be predatory as it exhibited the characteristic docile behaviour of a whale or porpoise. It was a manta or devil ray, with a 25 foot wingspan. Though rays look threatening they pose little danger, having small mouths with vestigial teeth that filter krill and plankton. The manta passed within 10 yards causing my blood to pumping madly as I floated in its path. Pulling myself out of the surf he was on the sand sitting in the shadow of an umbrella with an exotic woman in sunglasses and hat. He had a detached expression like a MD examining a specimen. Deja vu, Michael Caine. I think his mask, his public face serves two purposes; as he rests his facial, ocular muscles as good actors do, his intimidating gaze kept curious fans at bay.
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
BRITAIN'S GOT TALENT: SUSAN BOYLE
LONG SHOT COMES IN SECOND
Even if you’ve been living in an Iraqi POW camp, by now you’ve heard of Susan Boyle, a contestant from Blackburn, Scotland who was catapulted to fame April 11th in the Britain’s Got Talent TV program aired last week. What did Susan do to warrant a standing ovation? What was it about her performance that caused more then 100 million curiosity seekers to search for her on YouTube?
Viewers flocked to YouTube because, so went the the media buzz, Susan sang like an dream but looked like a nightmare. Then in the midst of the media frenzy the frumpy wall flower had an on-air meltdown, captured on video, sending hordes of bored voyeurs to the Web, more to see her snap than hear her sing.
But fans also understood how brave, even courageous she was. Stepping through the curtains, into the bright lights and up to the microphone, where few would follow for fear of rejection, she became every woman, hope personified for those with talent and dreams but little confidence. The Susan's of this world have a zillion to one shot. Susan was the ultimate underdog, a real life SlumDog Millionaire.
What's next for Susan? Will she hire a manager, a publicist, go on tour, sing at the Grammy's? Or will she go home to Blackburn, to family and friends, to sing karaoke on Saturday night and church choir Sunday mornings? Let's hope this experience hasn't changed the Susan we first met.
"How far we all come. How far we all come from ourselves. You can never go home again." ---A Death in the Family, James Agee.
Even if you’ve been living in an Iraqi POW camp, by now you’ve heard of Susan Boyle, a contestant from Blackburn, Scotland who was catapulted to fame April 11th in the Britain’s Got Talent TV program aired last week. What did Susan do to warrant a standing ovation? What was it about her performance that caused more then 100 million curiosity seekers to search for her on YouTube?
Viewers flocked to YouTube because, so went the the media buzz, Susan sang like an dream but looked like a nightmare. Then in the midst of the media frenzy the frumpy wall flower had an on-air meltdown, captured on video, sending hordes of bored voyeurs to the Web, more to see her snap than hear her sing.
But fans also understood how brave, even courageous she was. Stepping through the curtains, into the bright lights and up to the microphone, where few would follow for fear of rejection, she became every woman, hope personified for those with talent and dreams but little confidence. The Susan's of this world have a zillion to one shot. Susan was the ultimate underdog, a real life SlumDog Millionaire.
What's next for Susan? Will she hire a manager, a publicist, go on tour, sing at the Grammy's? Or will she go home to Blackburn, to family and friends, to sing karaoke on Saturday night and church choir Sunday mornings? Let's hope this experience hasn't changed the Susan we first met.
"How far we all come. How far we all come from ourselves. You can never go home again." ---A Death in the Family, James Agee.
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