The title of this book should be how not to write a memoir. In this case the subject of the memoir is really not that like able. She spends her pages ranting about her mother and a million other subjects. Those of us who work demanding jobs know we can be better parents. Unfortunately, keeping pace in competitive jobs takes a lot out of us. We hear whiny rant after rant about her mother and next to zero humility from the author who is not quite as brilliant as she would like the reader to assume.
The book is spared by the many wonderful people whose paths she crossed. This memoir would have been much better if a greater focus was on the loved Hotel than on the author. Obviously, the author had to have some redeeming qualities to maintain so many wonderful friends over the years.
Unless you are a celebrity a memoir should focus more on the period especially if you are a clod. This book serves a wonderful example of how to make a wonderful subject tedious.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
How to annoy relatives
The most certian way to annoy relatives is to stay with them indefinately and subject them to a series of annoying quirks. In real life I am very punctual and am on a scripted schedule. These relatives are chronological labotomies and are driving me up a wall by never being on time and moving around at idiotic hours like 2 A.M. If this is not bad enough I am stuck with religious dogma for another month. I respect other people's right to be religious but leave me out. If I wanted to be religious I would have done so. The best I can do is sit respectfully when I am way laid into a religious function.
This will be a month of non stop aggrivation. When people ask me about these relatives I cringe.
Another way to irritate people is to give career advice when you haven't worked in 20 years. The person has skills to get a range of jobs but does zero except piss me off. If I walk away and state I take the 5th this should tell you my patience is wearing thin. After a week with these rellatives I would gladly welcome a trip to somewhere preaceful like Damascus, Mogidishu or anyplace where I can just be hit by a bullet and not deal with this idiocy. Tardiness drives me up the wall. Moving around early in the morning when I sleep at home is dangerous. I wake up with adrenaline charged prepared to beat the intruder to a pulp and after being filled with adrenaline I can not sleep.
I can't stand slkackers and slackers that are know it alls drive me up the wall. This idiotic slacker does not even pick up subtle hints. "Advice is worth what they pay you for it. When is the last time anyone paid you for your opinion 20 years ago????? I would be happier if I didn't ever see you seriously I am not joking get lost call me in twenty years. Don't even come to my funeral because by the time you get there it will be over anyway.
Its going on five days and I am going ballistic.
This will be a month of non stop aggrivation. When people ask me about these relatives I cringe.
Another way to irritate people is to give career advice when you haven't worked in 20 years. The person has skills to get a range of jobs but does zero except piss me off. If I walk away and state I take the 5th this should tell you my patience is wearing thin. After a week with these rellatives I would gladly welcome a trip to somewhere preaceful like Damascus, Mogidishu or anyplace where I can just be hit by a bullet and not deal with this idiocy. Tardiness drives me up the wall. Moving around early in the morning when I sleep at home is dangerous. I wake up with adrenaline charged prepared to beat the intruder to a pulp and after being filled with adrenaline I can not sleep.
I can't stand slkackers and slackers that are know it alls drive me up the wall. This idiotic slacker does not even pick up subtle hints. "Advice is worth what they pay you for it. When is the last time anyone paid you for your opinion 20 years ago????? I would be happier if I didn't ever see you seriously I am not joking get lost call me in twenty years. Don't even come to my funeral because by the time you get there it will be over anyway.
Its going on five days and I am going ballistic.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Searching for Home
Those who read this space long term know my ties to the Catskills. The vanishing world of Jewish Hotels and Bungalow colonies with a unique style of comedy is almost gone. There will still be a few bungalow colonies. Mostly the Ultra Orthodox Hasidic crowd has kept this alive for now.
Recently the Kutshers family of Catskills NY fame has opened a resturant in the area I work in. I am familiar with the local establishment of cookie cutter fake Italian and latino establishments. Over priced too hip and food that doesn't deliver.
I went to Kutshers with an elegant companion. Like myself she had been to many of these hotels in her youth. Her connection was not as intimate and as deep as my ties to that era. If you are going to relive those years and the traditions you are going to be disappointed.
The positives are the staff is charming and grasps the customer is king element from the Catskills. The staff has no connection to those years but Mr Kutsher has really done this well. He is a charming host who knows how to work a room much like the Hotel impesarios. He is not Irving Cohen or Jenny Grossinger but he is really good in this smaller venue.
Despite nostalgic delusions the true secret of the Catskills was the food was above average not world class. They served alot of food ( mountains) and they really did not bother with the aesthetic part of the game. You mostly ate familiars and went into a food coma shortly before the wonderful shows. The truth is that Kutshers Tribeca out does the original in that the food is better than more hyped local establishments.
Every single item was outstanding even if halibut gefilte fish sounds like the person eating it should get zonked with a lightning bolt.
The question is what brings you to the door. If you are looking for original food not found anyhere else with the best staff in the area you are in the correct place. This place is an excellent establishment that puts those in the area to shame. Its high quality offerings are authentic yet presented in modern ways. This is a fine establishment that is well worth repeated visits.
If you are looking for those Catskills memories forget it. I was explaining to the person with me how it would take three hours for me to set the tables. I would inspect each piece of silverware before I placed ti down and sometimes I respun the pieces in the machine that didn't meet my standards. I would go through racks of glasses to get a few for my customers and a few times I rewashed a set twice rather than give a less than perfect glass. Folding the napkins alone took about 35 minutes. The pomp of a hotel dinning room is not here and perhaps is lost forever in time. Then again if anyone was crazy enough to recreate that level of dedication today would cost $300.00 a person minimum in a resturant setting.
I have had several careers and my home away from home where I hang my hat remains Bens Best. I have been eating there when it was Lou G Siegels. The food is always good the service is always very good and more close to the traditional favorites. I wandered in after I left the mountains when I worked in the fashion industry and never left. In many ways it is a greater part of my life than the famed mountains. When I met an impossible deadline I had a meal at Bens. When a boss wanted to discuss my contract we went to Bens. When I would wander back from VT starved for a slice of Derma in a culinary wasteland I ended up at Bens.
I guess my trip to Kutshers was a great experience. I will be returning shortly with appopriate companionship who can appreciate excellence. However, when I celebrate something important or need that little zest of life I will return to Ben's.
Recently the Kutshers family of Catskills NY fame has opened a resturant in the area I work in. I am familiar with the local establishment of cookie cutter fake Italian and latino establishments. Over priced too hip and food that doesn't deliver.
I went to Kutshers with an elegant companion. Like myself she had been to many of these hotels in her youth. Her connection was not as intimate and as deep as my ties to that era. If you are going to relive those years and the traditions you are going to be disappointed.
The positives are the staff is charming and grasps the customer is king element from the Catskills. The staff has no connection to those years but Mr Kutsher has really done this well. He is a charming host who knows how to work a room much like the Hotel impesarios. He is not Irving Cohen or Jenny Grossinger but he is really good in this smaller venue.
Despite nostalgic delusions the true secret of the Catskills was the food was above average not world class. They served alot of food ( mountains) and they really did not bother with the aesthetic part of the game. You mostly ate familiars and went into a food coma shortly before the wonderful shows. The truth is that Kutshers Tribeca out does the original in that the food is better than more hyped local establishments.
Every single item was outstanding even if halibut gefilte fish sounds like the person eating it should get zonked with a lightning bolt.
The question is what brings you to the door. If you are looking for original food not found anyhere else with the best staff in the area you are in the correct place. This place is an excellent establishment that puts those in the area to shame. Its high quality offerings are authentic yet presented in modern ways. This is a fine establishment that is well worth repeated visits.
If you are looking for those Catskills memories forget it. I was explaining to the person with me how it would take three hours for me to set the tables. I would inspect each piece of silverware before I placed ti down and sometimes I respun the pieces in the machine that didn't meet my standards. I would go through racks of glasses to get a few for my customers and a few times I rewashed a set twice rather than give a less than perfect glass. Folding the napkins alone took about 35 minutes. The pomp of a hotel dinning room is not here and perhaps is lost forever in time. Then again if anyone was crazy enough to recreate that level of dedication today would cost $300.00 a person minimum in a resturant setting.
I have had several careers and my home away from home where I hang my hat remains Bens Best. I have been eating there when it was Lou G Siegels. The food is always good the service is always very good and more close to the traditional favorites. I wandered in after I left the mountains when I worked in the fashion industry and never left. In many ways it is a greater part of my life than the famed mountains. When I met an impossible deadline I had a meal at Bens. When a boss wanted to discuss my contract we went to Bens. When I would wander back from VT starved for a slice of Derma in a culinary wasteland I ended up at Bens.
I guess my trip to Kutshers was a great experience. I will be returning shortly with appopriate companionship who can appreciate excellence. However, when I celebrate something important or need that little zest of life I will return to Ben's.
The Atomic Bomb in Life
The media is full of nasty stories about men who go haywire. There is a whole channel devoted to movies about men abusing women stories. There is article after article about how women suffer after a divorce.
I went through my divorce about 20 years ago. I remember sitting in my attorneys office and reading the most absurd charges that were based on garbage. I looked at the lawyer who had a stack of files on his desk kid point to a file. I did "accused of molesting his kids". I pointed to the next one "accused of beating his wife". It went on and on .
I trully empathize with actual victims of abuse and harassment. However, there is a disturbing unspoken reality that is not discussed. The reality is that there are people who use and abuse this process for its own end and they are almost always female. This does not infer that all people who make absurd allegations are females or that all these claims are hot air.
There was an episode in a recent job where the same people competiting for jobs was intense. A few employees made up false sexual harassment complaints and I was targeted by this crew. Supposedly my crime was stating I think female sports is a bore. I don't watch womens basketball and gymnastics and Ice Skatting regardless of gender are a bore. I found myself up on sexual harassment charges for creating a hostile work attmosphere. Officially, we are not allowed to know who are accuser is but this was weak and underhanded. I changed my routine and stopped talking to all my coworkers except for my boss and changed my route to avoid the accuser. I shifted my work hours including ten hours every Saturday so I would not be near this person at all. I found long winded feminist tracts tapped to my desk and a stack of pennies glued together tapped to my desk. The person who never worked Saturdays decided to suddenly work Saturdays. As soon as she arrived, I got up and left the building.
I was then accused of a different crime avoidance. Apparently, the rules state that this is not allowed as well. Moving my work space was not allowed as this would set off a range of people making similar requests.
A female coworker who was a close friend saw me eating alone and told me Beaky you are not yourself.
I told her what I was accused of and she said that is ridiculous. You help anyone who asks and I have never heard you say a bad word about anyone except the crazy senior citizens who hog all the shrimp in the buffet. She made a point of insisting I sit with close friends from work and they were supportive.
The real tragedy is that I have seen careers ruined by false allegations and several people rewarded for these false complaints. As a person who has dealt with this on the recieving end these people disgust me
as abuse claims are a serious matter that should be dealt with seriously. The accuser and accused should be held to standards and evidence and testimony should be evaluated.
A friend came to me just shaken and I knew.
Here is what you can do
1) Tell your friend emphatically you believe in them. In my case it is something from my heart.
2) If it is bad take a day off and go with this person away from the office. Parks, Museums and drives in the country work wonders
3) Be there for your friend
4) Explain that sometimes in these situations professional help may be needed.
The best thing you can do is explain that some people do lack ethics and personal integrity. They will make false allegations for personal advantage and attention.
I went through my divorce about 20 years ago. I remember sitting in my attorneys office and reading the most absurd charges that were based on garbage. I looked at the lawyer who had a stack of files on his desk kid point to a file. I did "accused of molesting his kids". I pointed to the next one "accused of beating his wife". It went on and on .
I trully empathize with actual victims of abuse and harassment. However, there is a disturbing unspoken reality that is not discussed. The reality is that there are people who use and abuse this process for its own end and they are almost always female. This does not infer that all people who make absurd allegations are females or that all these claims are hot air.
There was an episode in a recent job where the same people competiting for jobs was intense. A few employees made up false sexual harassment complaints and I was targeted by this crew. Supposedly my crime was stating I think female sports is a bore. I don't watch womens basketball and gymnastics and Ice Skatting regardless of gender are a bore. I found myself up on sexual harassment charges for creating a hostile work attmosphere. Officially, we are not allowed to know who are accuser is but this was weak and underhanded. I changed my routine and stopped talking to all my coworkers except for my boss and changed my route to avoid the accuser. I shifted my work hours including ten hours every Saturday so I would not be near this person at all. I found long winded feminist tracts tapped to my desk and a stack of pennies glued together tapped to my desk. The person who never worked Saturdays decided to suddenly work Saturdays. As soon as she arrived, I got up and left the building.
I was then accused of a different crime avoidance. Apparently, the rules state that this is not allowed as well. Moving my work space was not allowed as this would set off a range of people making similar requests.
A female coworker who was a close friend saw me eating alone and told me Beaky you are not yourself.
I told her what I was accused of and she said that is ridiculous. You help anyone who asks and I have never heard you say a bad word about anyone except the crazy senior citizens who hog all the shrimp in the buffet. She made a point of insisting I sit with close friends from work and they were supportive.
The real tragedy is that I have seen careers ruined by false allegations and several people rewarded for these false complaints. As a person who has dealt with this on the recieving end these people disgust me
as abuse claims are a serious matter that should be dealt with seriously. The accuser and accused should be held to standards and evidence and testimony should be evaluated.
A friend came to me just shaken and I knew.
Here is what you can do
1) Tell your friend emphatically you believe in them. In my case it is something from my heart.
2) If it is bad take a day off and go with this person away from the office. Parks, Museums and drives in the country work wonders
3) Be there for your friend
4) Explain that sometimes in these situations professional help may be needed.
The best thing you can do is explain that some people do lack ethics and personal integrity. They will make false allegations for personal advantage and attention.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Att: Muslims if you love America and its traditions you are a Suck up according to the bird brained Duck.
We do not call people like Mr. B, AOW or Z suck ups for loving our country. Patriotism and respect for the ethos of our country is a core part of our persona. Marxists like our friend Duncy think that as heirs to the divine wisdom according to Marx that they determine who is authentically Jewish, Black, Muslim and so forth. Of course those who reject Marxism are called slurs like Likudinik or Aunt Jemimah by those who reject their foul ideas.
Anyone who reads the writings of Stephen Schwartz grasps that he is a patriotic American who cares about his country and his faith. He understands and embraces our noblest traditions of intellectual freedom and respect for others. As a man of ideas and words he embraces our Western Tradition.
In essence as a person of wisdom and faith Schwartz and the CIP grasp that terrorism hurts Islam on many levels. There are no word games or equivocation for pointless acts of violence that are almost branding strategies.
It is insulting to insinuate that Muslims who respect our traditions and others are suck ups. Do we accuse others who have a love of these ideas of being suck ups. This is typical mindless far left arrogance. In the mind of the Duck the Muslims who serve in our armed forces are misguided.
Are Muslims part of Big Table Americanism? All who respect others and private property are welcome so long as they share the common ethos our country was founded upon.
Anyone who reads the writings of Stephen Schwartz grasps that he is a patriotic American who cares about his country and his faith. He understands and embraces our noblest traditions of intellectual freedom and respect for others. As a man of ideas and words he embraces our Western Tradition.
In essence as a person of wisdom and faith Schwartz and the CIP grasp that terrorism hurts Islam on many levels. There are no word games or equivocation for pointless acts of violence that are almost branding strategies.
It is insulting to insinuate that Muslims who respect our traditions and others are suck ups. Do we accuse others who have a love of these ideas of being suck ups. This is typical mindless far left arrogance. In the mind of the Duck the Muslims who serve in our armed forces are misguided.
Are Muslims part of Big Table Americanism? All who respect others and private property are welcome so long as they share the common ethos our country was founded upon.
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Exactly what you expected on Fort Hood Massacre
Anyone who works in government understands the fear of being called a racist or bigot. Officers take course after course on political correctness. The truth is that this does not infer that you toss common sense out the window.
Mainstream Muslims want their culture respected and we should strive to do so within reason. Providing a Halal meal or a break for prayer is okay. Ignoring that a person is in regular contact with well known terrorists and speaking approvingly of suicide bombings is not respect, it is lunacy.
All of us are guilty of being itimidated by the term racist. Checking the identity of someone under a burkha is not racist, it is doing your job. Checking out well established crime patterns especially when there is ample evidence is due dillegence.
This is why it is important that when the government discusses the training of professionals in ethnic sensitivity it should reach out to groups like the Center for Islamic Pluralism not CAIR. We have had years of superficial and incorrect training because political hacks and the wrong Muslims were asked.
Example there are reports person A is involved in money laundering to a country of interest. If we fail to investigate the matter we are not respecting Islam, we are failing to do our sworn duty. Respecting Islam, does not mean we fail to act on job number one which is public safety.
Mainstream Muslims want their culture respected and we should strive to do so within reason. Providing a Halal meal or a break for prayer is okay. Ignoring that a person is in regular contact with well known terrorists and speaking approvingly of suicide bombings is not respect, it is lunacy.
All of us are guilty of being itimidated by the term racist. Checking the identity of someone under a burkha is not racist, it is doing your job. Checking out well established crime patterns especially when there is ample evidence is due dillegence.
This is why it is important that when the government discusses the training of professionals in ethnic sensitivity it should reach out to groups like the Center for Islamic Pluralism not CAIR. We have had years of superficial and incorrect training because political hacks and the wrong Muslims were asked.
Example there are reports person A is involved in money laundering to a country of interest. If we fail to investigate the matter we are not respecting Islam, we are failing to do our sworn duty. Respecting Islam, does not mean we fail to act on job number one which is public safety.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
End Immigration Scams by big Education and Business
The time has come to end the scam of allowing the higher education mafia to skirt immigration law. The reality is many students do not attend classes and abuse the F1 visa to skirt immigration laws. Universities should be fined for each student that does not attend classes. Student X never attends classes and does not exit. The enforcement cost of locating X should be passed on to the University at $25,000 per year.
Entering students should be required to post a bond. If the student fails to attend classes the bond is forfiet. If the student marries and fails to attend classes the bond is still forfiet
Entering students should be required to post a bond. If the student fails to attend classes the bond is forfiet. If the student marries and fails to attend classes the bond is still forfiet
Sunday, July 15, 2012
Are we better of than our Grand Parents
I hate to fall into cynacism but the answer is no. The changes in the world are not going to be undone. Unfortunately, many people with good intentions just made things worse.
In my grandparents day you could work in the same job without retraining until retirement. The way technology is this is a thing of the past. The days where you had a crew of buddies that worked with you for years is finnished. Even in my current job maybe ten people are there when I started five years ago in NYC. Many have retired and we are working like dogs. What is a lunch break? Officers are supposed to be on three days and off two for clerical work. Haven't had that in a while.
Marriages lasted for lifetimes and communities remained unchanged. You knew your neighbor and had kids at the same time. Now everyone moves all over the place. Since there were three channels you watched similar shows as your friends. Now with cable you have channel after channel of shlock. Even the quality of video games has gone down because we don't spend as much time on story as we do on effects.
You walk your neighborhood and look for the familiar family Pizza Parlor or Chinese Resturant but they are gone casualties of the economy. I look at the places around me that have gone belly up. The Pizza place was here since 1964 and is kaput. The Chinese place with slave labor is finnished and that was here since 1970. We replace them with chain stores that are all alike. Don't get me wrong but McDonald's are not unique enough to be a community icon.
We look at gadgets like a cell phone or an I Pad. These are not replacements for a community and stability.
Psychology is more apt to damage relationships and create bigger problems.
Are we better off than our grandparents? If measured by gadgets yes. If measured by happiness no. There is almost a sense of daily alienation as nothing is permanent. Families, friends, jobs, communities all seem disposable and it is our loss.
In my grandparents day you could work in the same job without retraining until retirement. The way technology is this is a thing of the past. The days where you had a crew of buddies that worked with you for years is finnished. Even in my current job maybe ten people are there when I started five years ago in NYC. Many have retired and we are working like dogs. What is a lunch break? Officers are supposed to be on three days and off two for clerical work. Haven't had that in a while.
Marriages lasted for lifetimes and communities remained unchanged. You knew your neighbor and had kids at the same time. Now everyone moves all over the place. Since there were three channels you watched similar shows as your friends. Now with cable you have channel after channel of shlock. Even the quality of video games has gone down because we don't spend as much time on story as we do on effects.
You walk your neighborhood and look for the familiar family Pizza Parlor or Chinese Resturant but they are gone casualties of the economy. I look at the places around me that have gone belly up. The Pizza place was here since 1964 and is kaput. The Chinese place with slave labor is finnished and that was here since 1970. We replace them with chain stores that are all alike. Don't get me wrong but McDonald's are not unique enough to be a community icon.
We look at gadgets like a cell phone or an I Pad. These are not replacements for a community and stability.
Psychology is more apt to damage relationships and create bigger problems.
Are we better off than our grandparents? If measured by gadgets yes. If measured by happiness no. There is almost a sense of daily alienation as nothing is permanent. Families, friends, jobs, communities all seem disposable and it is our loss.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
The Return of the Great Gasmasked Patriot
I want to point out that while we don't always agree with the Great Gasmasked Patriot he is an All American Classic.
I do not see the Tea Party as left wing. I see the Tea Party as a sometimes corrosive influence largely due for its propensity to place poor candidates on the ballot. I would also be happier if they tossed out the Paulites yesterday. The claim that Paul or his less wacky son are some sort of rallying point is sheer deception. William F Buckley made conservatism respectable by tossing out the John Birch elements. Ron Paul and his freak show followers are pretty much John Birchers with better PR.
In short it is acceptable to oppose Obama's policies and detest Obama. When we start ranting about race, Obama is a Muslim and to a lesser extent birtherism we sound unhinged like members of the JBS. There is frankly no place in anything Republican for evil Abe Lincoln crap, racial supremacists and Joooo haters. The Jooooo haters in the GOP are Paulists and who make a mockery of everything the party stands for. While Paul feigns he is the true Conservative he left the GOP in protest of Regans policies. Paul now feigns that he was a Reagan supporter all along.
While Mr. B may not be right about the Tea Party why are the Paulists there in the first place. If there is a person who is heir to the throne of Reaganism and Conservatism it is not Paul who ran against far leftist Russel Means. Paul's talk about spending is not matched by his record of pork in congress. In short the actual Ron Paul is not conservative in any way. He is a few fruit loops short of a box.
I did point out that none of Romneys supporters actually are voting for Romney. They are voting against Obama and the rant of Kid at Z's site proves my point better than my original point. Romney ran on two points I am not Obama and I am electable. Romney is basically Obama Light and has not been out there
highlighting anything other than I am not Obama.
Those of us who look around at the Obama Socialist demolition derby economy and are wondering what
will Romney do differently are scratching our heads. We wait for ideas and vision and Romey states "I am not Obama". Well in actuality the Obama we elected was not Obama the President either. He was a media annointed symbol of post racial politics droning on mindlessly about hope and change behind a Pepsi Knock off logo. When he got into office he delivered change by making everything worse. Oddly in the train wreck economy Blacks have suffered worse than any other group.
I took the other bus and was floored by all the empty store fronts. The one that hit hardest was a local Chinese resturant that had been there for at least 37 years. Even small family owned businesses using cheap often illegal labor can't survive the Obama demolition derby economy.
Has Romney stated what he intends to do to help small companies and start up businesses? Has Romney stated what is his plan to cut the explosive growth in educational and health care costs? Exactly, what are the ideas that are supposed to get Americans working again other than I am not as inept and clueless as Obama?
I am fed up with politcs we are now pitching politicians like junk food ads. We have gone from discussing ideas and vision to packaging. Gee Obama is infront of a Pepsi logo so Romney should adopt a logo based upon a Tide Logo.
Where are the ideas? Where is the vision ?
I do not see the Tea Party as left wing. I see the Tea Party as a sometimes corrosive influence largely due for its propensity to place poor candidates on the ballot. I would also be happier if they tossed out the Paulites yesterday. The claim that Paul or his less wacky son are some sort of rallying point is sheer deception. William F Buckley made conservatism respectable by tossing out the John Birch elements. Ron Paul and his freak show followers are pretty much John Birchers with better PR.
In short it is acceptable to oppose Obama's policies and detest Obama. When we start ranting about race, Obama is a Muslim and to a lesser extent birtherism we sound unhinged like members of the JBS. There is frankly no place in anything Republican for evil Abe Lincoln crap, racial supremacists and Joooo haters. The Jooooo haters in the GOP are Paulists and who make a mockery of everything the party stands for. While Paul feigns he is the true Conservative he left the GOP in protest of Regans policies. Paul now feigns that he was a Reagan supporter all along.
While Mr. B may not be right about the Tea Party why are the Paulists there in the first place. If there is a person who is heir to the throne of Reaganism and Conservatism it is not Paul who ran against far leftist Russel Means. Paul's talk about spending is not matched by his record of pork in congress. In short the actual Ron Paul is not conservative in any way. He is a few fruit loops short of a box.
I did point out that none of Romneys supporters actually are voting for Romney. They are voting against Obama and the rant of Kid at Z's site proves my point better than my original point. Romney ran on two points I am not Obama and I am electable. Romney is basically Obama Light and has not been out there
highlighting anything other than I am not Obama.
Those of us who look around at the Obama Socialist demolition derby economy and are wondering what
will Romney do differently are scratching our heads. We wait for ideas and vision and Romey states "I am not Obama". Well in actuality the Obama we elected was not Obama the President either. He was a media annointed symbol of post racial politics droning on mindlessly about hope and change behind a Pepsi Knock off logo. When he got into office he delivered change by making everything worse. Oddly in the train wreck economy Blacks have suffered worse than any other group.
I took the other bus and was floored by all the empty store fronts. The one that hit hardest was a local Chinese resturant that had been there for at least 37 years. Even small family owned businesses using cheap often illegal labor can't survive the Obama demolition derby economy.
Has Romney stated what he intends to do to help small companies and start up businesses? Has Romney stated what is his plan to cut the explosive growth in educational and health care costs? Exactly, what are the ideas that are supposed to get Americans working again other than I am not as inept and clueless as Obama?
I am fed up with politcs we are now pitching politicians like junk food ads. We have gone from discussing ideas and vision to packaging. Gee Obama is infront of a Pepsi logo so Romney should adopt a logo based upon a Tide Logo.
Where are the ideas? Where is the vision ?
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Dr Obama my @$#^&^*I(
There is a poll out there that shows a large number of doctors are thinking about giving up the practice of medicine because of Obama care. The media has burried this poll because mission number one is to save Obama and this abomination of a bill. This is the one bill favored by elitist snobs who don't do actual work. They sit around and BS themselves that they want to be more European.
I am amused at the Obama camp who are focusing on Romney's money. Romney was born into a family of wealth and has proven he is adept at earning it. This is compared to Gomer Kerry who marries it or Obama whose wealth comes from where????
Fact Obama has been to more Prep Schools than Al Gore. Unlike Al Gore he mainly ran around in a pot induced stupor and mindlessly repeated every idiotic cliche his teachers tossed at him. He is so brilliant that his grades are a tighter secret than Coca Cola. How one gets into elite Universities after doing poorly is a mystery. The truth is that he likely used and abused affirmative action and the Old Bolshevik network connections of his grandparents and spaced out hippie mother. Obama's grades did not prevent him from getting into elite Law Schools and as an educator. Most likely this is an area where he expeditiously contrived some interesting accounts of his birth when it was advantageous.
Would you accept someone who has blatantly lied on their resume and messed up royally on the job to go for a second round.
Fire Obama and elect anyone.
Hope and change starts with sending Obama out of DC and onto a golf course where he can not damage the economy and merely bore everyone with his feigned brilliance. I may not have like Bill Clinton but he was not stupid or dangerous. Obama is a disaster and the joke is on the American people. It has ceased to be funny about two years ago.
I am amused at the Obama camp who are focusing on Romney's money. Romney was born into a family of wealth and has proven he is adept at earning it. This is compared to Gomer Kerry who marries it or Obama whose wealth comes from where????
Fact Obama has been to more Prep Schools than Al Gore. Unlike Al Gore he mainly ran around in a pot induced stupor and mindlessly repeated every idiotic cliche his teachers tossed at him. He is so brilliant that his grades are a tighter secret than Coca Cola. How one gets into elite Universities after doing poorly is a mystery. The truth is that he likely used and abused affirmative action and the Old Bolshevik network connections of his grandparents and spaced out hippie mother. Obama's grades did not prevent him from getting into elite Law Schools and as an educator. Most likely this is an area where he expeditiously contrived some interesting accounts of his birth when it was advantageous.
Would you accept someone who has blatantly lied on their resume and messed up royally on the job to go for a second round.
Fire Obama and elect anyone.
Hope and change starts with sending Obama out of DC and onto a golf course where he can not damage the economy and merely bore everyone with his feigned brilliance. I may not have like Bill Clinton but he was not stupid or dangerous. Obama is a disaster and the joke is on the American people. It has ceased to be funny about two years ago.
Saturday, July 07, 2012
Not supposed to happen this way
I have been wandering the internet and am floored where some people ended up. Now I worked with dangerous types in some jobs and it is no shock when they end up in a police blotter. Some of the coworkers in various jobs were in the criminal justice system long before they met me. It is no great shock
when a truckman who did time goes back.
The world of fashion sales is a disgusting vile place. The most honest of the lot is the old mafia truckmen. It is a morally perverse place where throats are cut, drug use is not too secret, all types of sexual hijinks and bribery are well known. One of the best moves I did for my soul was to get as far away from these types as possible. At least in the distribution end the workers were a higher class version of the transients I knew at the hotels. The drug abuse wasn't bad but gamblers and thieves were common. The folks were okay in spite of their ethical lapses. In my area I created a type of family attmosphere charged with my never say die attitude.
I had many salesmen and women I worked with. They are like butterfies in that they live beautiful short lives and die in their 40's. Their youth is used up and they are no longer cool and they can't sell a thing. One salesmen was like a brother to me. He was a partner but things didn't go well. His marriage was long busted and he has drifted from company to company in irrelevancy. I offer to treat him for lunch as it helps him remember the days when he was it.
Another salesman I knew was real good. He slept with anything that moved to make a sale. He was almost a cartoon of your ethically challenged salesman and he made top dollar at least 250000 back in the 90s. He founded his own line that failed, his marriage failed. This is just the way of that industry. Unfortunately he was convicted of some type of sex crime with someone under the legal age. Perhaps, I shouldn't be as surprised that he has fallen down and now sells insurance in FLA.
It is a greater curse to have it all and lose it than to never have it at all. I am content serving the public and reading a series of never ending books. I might year for the buddies from my days in the Catskills or the Fashion Industry but I am in a better place. I pen happy endings for the most part. There are times I miss being "the man" but it an odd journey we take through life.
when a truckman who did time goes back.
The world of fashion sales is a disgusting vile place. The most honest of the lot is the old mafia truckmen. It is a morally perverse place where throats are cut, drug use is not too secret, all types of sexual hijinks and bribery are well known. One of the best moves I did for my soul was to get as far away from these types as possible. At least in the distribution end the workers were a higher class version of the transients I knew at the hotels. The drug abuse wasn't bad but gamblers and thieves were common. The folks were okay in spite of their ethical lapses. In my area I created a type of family attmosphere charged with my never say die attitude.
I had many salesmen and women I worked with. They are like butterfies in that they live beautiful short lives and die in their 40's. Their youth is used up and they are no longer cool and they can't sell a thing. One salesmen was like a brother to me. He was a partner but things didn't go well. His marriage was long busted and he has drifted from company to company in irrelevancy. I offer to treat him for lunch as it helps him remember the days when he was it.
Another salesman I knew was real good. He slept with anything that moved to make a sale. He was almost a cartoon of your ethically challenged salesman and he made top dollar at least 250000 back in the 90s. He founded his own line that failed, his marriage failed. This is just the way of that industry. Unfortunately he was convicted of some type of sex crime with someone under the legal age. Perhaps, I shouldn't be as surprised that he has fallen down and now sells insurance in FLA.
It is a greater curse to have it all and lose it than to never have it at all. I am content serving the public and reading a series of never ending books. I might year for the buddies from my days in the Catskills or the Fashion Industry but I am in a better place. I pen happy endings for the most part. There are times I miss being "the man" but it an odd journey we take through life.
Tarek Fatah's the Jew is Not My Enemy
In general it is good to read books that challenge your assumptions, unless they are written by Marxists whose views are worthless. While it is important to learn from Spenser it is more valuable to read the thoughts of Muslims who care about their faith and share our concerns. I have learned very much from regularly read Stephen Schwartz and the articles at the CIP.
Fatah does decry the pro Arabic racism that is directed at non Arabs as part and parcel of the Saudi variant. Arabs muslims tend to look down on non Arab muslims who make up a majority of the faith. The primacy of this faith and the mindless conspiratorial Jewish obsessions are traced to Saudi malfeasence.
What is new is the authors questioning if a certain massacre assumed to be true actually happend or it got added later. The author makes a convincing argument it did not happen quite the way the haddith conveys it. The author questions why Muslims themselves are so willing to embrace the story of a vengeful prophet
who butchered people who were basically bystanders in the events. As with the building of the Dome of the Rock there appears to be political reasoning behind the fable. The author points out that there is zero confirmation of these events in Jewish sources who wrote about events in great detail. The massacre of 900 people should have created ruins that would have been dug up in Medina multiple times in construction.
The author points out that if this haddith is rejected then inevitably we would end up wondering what else is false or exagerated.
Are we ready to challenge out assumptions? While I grant that the author may be factually correct, Muslims themselves believe these legends. Of course clinging to represive theocracy is not in anyones interest as it is not the basis of a modern state. The problem is the author leaves out the damage of the Marxists who inane strongmen like Saddam and Assad have been just as disasterous. Of course the notion of getting a Muslim Capitalist reformer has just not happened. I have learned to never say never but don't hold your breath.
Fatah does decry the pro Arabic racism that is directed at non Arabs as part and parcel of the Saudi variant. Arabs muslims tend to look down on non Arab muslims who make up a majority of the faith. The primacy of this faith and the mindless conspiratorial Jewish obsessions are traced to Saudi malfeasence.
What is new is the authors questioning if a certain massacre assumed to be true actually happend or it got added later. The author makes a convincing argument it did not happen quite the way the haddith conveys it. The author questions why Muslims themselves are so willing to embrace the story of a vengeful prophet
who butchered people who were basically bystanders in the events. As with the building of the Dome of the Rock there appears to be political reasoning behind the fable. The author points out that there is zero confirmation of these events in Jewish sources who wrote about events in great detail. The massacre of 900 people should have created ruins that would have been dug up in Medina multiple times in construction.
The author points out that if this haddith is rejected then inevitably we would end up wondering what else is false or exagerated.
Are we ready to challenge out assumptions? While I grant that the author may be factually correct, Muslims themselves believe these legends. Of course clinging to represive theocracy is not in anyones interest as it is not the basis of a modern state. The problem is the author leaves out the damage of the Marxists who inane strongmen like Saddam and Assad have been just as disasterous. Of course the notion of getting a Muslim Capitalist reformer has just not happened. I have learned to never say never but don't hold your breath.
Movies and you
When a well crafted movie is made there is but so much that can be conveyed in 90 minutes. Most of this is directed at plot and charachter develpoment. Thus a movie about the Catskills Hotels or set there is unlikely to ever touch upon the troubled transients who washed the dishes and cleaned the floors. Cleaning the flo ors in the kitchen was done by a series of water hoses and wasnt so bad. Running the silverware spinners was bad and clapping plates in the huge dishwasher was the worst.
In film it is just easier and more interesting to portray the owners child or spoiled wealthy kid having a forbidden romance. There likely were many of these between the young college students who were passing through on their way to somewhere else. In general most of these students were from upper middle class families. The parents did not necessarily frown on these relationships so long as everything went well. If it didn't then can expect the worst.
A dance instructor was not a great candidate. They were considered on a lower plane than the entertainers or even the musicians. Yes there was the celebrated marriage of the late Lou Goldstein to a dance instructor. Goldstein was the brilliant activities director and an upper level employee, not a guest or an owners family.
A TV series about the Catskills Era would be a blast. You could have cameos of actual entertainers who played there playing cranky guests while a younger person plays Jackie Mason or Don Rickles. Even in an hour format 15 minutes could be devoted to the show. I doubt this type of series would ever hit paper or come to the attention of studio heads. However, given the bad cop shows and dreadful shows on HBO it would be worth a try. In a TV series the world of the long term employees and the transients can be discussed in passing.
In film it is just easier and more interesting to portray the owners child or spoiled wealthy kid having a forbidden romance. There likely were many of these between the young college students who were passing through on their way to somewhere else. In general most of these students were from upper middle class families. The parents did not necessarily frown on these relationships so long as everything went well. If it didn't then can expect the worst.
A dance instructor was not a great candidate. They were considered on a lower plane than the entertainers or even the musicians. Yes there was the celebrated marriage of the late Lou Goldstein to a dance instructor. Goldstein was the brilliant activities director and an upper level employee, not a guest or an owners family.
A TV series about the Catskills Era would be a blast. You could have cameos of actual entertainers who played there playing cranky guests while a younger person plays Jackie Mason or Don Rickles. Even in an hour format 15 minutes could be devoted to the show. I doubt this type of series would ever hit paper or come to the attention of studio heads. However, given the bad cop shows and dreadful shows on HBO it would be worth a try. In a TV series the world of the long term employees and the transients can be discussed in passing.
Thursday, July 05, 2012
The real world of Dirty Dancing
I have been reading some of the articles from the Catskill Institute. I arrived at the very end, and some of the famous places were closed when I arrived. I did stay at both the Concord and Grossingers as a guest. I stayed with my Grandparents at a bungalow on the site of the Hotel Gradus and visited them at the bungalow colony next to the Pines. I visited Stevensville and Kutshers many times.
The Catskill era was about a simpler time. Families went to a Hotel to be pampered. The food was excellent and the entertainment was world class. A comedian worked the pool and a Jazz Musician played his standards and the guests could have a meal on the patio on the pool where I worked for a few seasons.
I spent my nights at the coffee shop at a slow station or by the takeout area.
There were clear divisions between workers and guests. The owners didn't mind if the college students sunbathed on the cabana. An attractive 20 year old co-ed was a pleasant distraction and harmless. There were romances between the children of seasons guests and the college students. Most of the college students were from wealthy families.
There was an unwritten caste system. A college student could enjoy the cabana or was encouraged to visit the mixers on singles weekends. The next caste was the young townies. They were forbidden to be anywhere on the grounds. Romances between the college students and townies did happen but they were frowned upon by all. I found myself on the wrong end of one of these romances. When it went bad my heart was broken. Quietly while I went to school the hotel had fired this girlfriend. My heart was devastated and two young managers who were like sisters looked after me. To this day I remain grateful to Barbara and Dana who looked after me with my first broken heart. The girl was an alcoholic, but very beautiful. Even a local famous comedian quipped "hey kid why not make love to a bottle of cheap booze and cut out the middle man.." I always thought she was deceased but I found her name in a recent police report in Troy listed as homeless. A famous writers daughter who I thought of as flighty said "Beaky, she isn't for you. You are going on to other things and she will just drag you down and ruin you and kick you while you are down. The writers daughter was correct and in no definition flighty. She was a brilliant live wire who was smarter than you realized and had a huge heart. It was only in the Catskills that our paths would cross. She used drag me out when I wanted to work. I can't thank her because she passed away before her time in her 40's. I went to the funeral and sat near a neighbor who mistook me for a lawyer. I guess I don't carry the federal officer bit with bearing.
As a college student we lived and ate in different places than the others. There was a separate dinning area for the students. The place where the workers ate was called the bimi cafeteria. I loved the bimi cafeteria and looked forward on rare occasions eating the midnight meal with the workers. There were friends of mine who were stewards, security guards and others. One special friend was named John Hyde who was a veteran of WW2. He was an army buddy of the owners nephew who ran the kitchen. He worked in the kitchen and described army life. He was a conservative who lived in the rooming house up the block. He worked in house keeping. One day in the eighties when I returned a security guard I used to chat with late nights told me "your friend died of a heart attack over the winter". I liked eating in the dreaded bimi cafeteria on the rare occasion I ate with the students it was usually the writers daughter dragging me kicking and screaming. I had a look that was frequently confused with a young Tony Curtis. It was not uncommon for one of the fellow students to take an interest and drag me around. They were beautiful special daughters from the best families, but my head was in a different place. I was really, not of their world as my family though locally prominent and respected was not in those stratospheres. I remember the writers daughter explaining to me everything was in my mind and I was one of them. Funny, but I didn't like the idea of being served. Later on when I lived briefly with a supermarket heiress I would create a stir by cooking my own meals and letting the cleaning woman eat with us. I learned the basics of cooking at the hotel and made world class meals on lower fifth where I lived briefly.
The building I lived in was called the Congress building. It was a short distance from the pool and coffee shop. The building was mostly similar college students. The exception were a famed Jazz musician in his later years, the planets best busboy who looked like Dan Hedaya and the infamous playboy I called Captain S. There was a notorious and nasty gay Captain who lived in the building. He used to try and peek
at the college students as they showered and was creepy. I later worked with many fine gay men in several jobs but this guy was seedy. The planets best busboy was a brilliant student who arrived in the 50's and never left. He hired me to help him out and was generous. His area had most of the season guest high rollers. One of them had two breath taking daughters and the youngest one went from ordinary to dreamy overnight. She was never snobby, but I kept my distance as her family was just in another world that I didn't belong in. The greatest busboy was someone I call the Great Mr. G. He was going to Brooklyn College and swore he couldn't learn languages. He stayed over the summer and promised he would go back to school thirty years later it never happened. He was a brilliant stock player and never needed to work. Somehow love never seemed to hit him and he just remained frozen in time collecting a huger portfolio and occasionally going to Florida on vacation. He got into a fight with the maitre d a few years before the end and was spared seeing the last chapter.
The Captain across the hall was the planets most notorious playboy. He slept with everything but never more than once or twice. If a woman had a fantasy he lived it. He sunned himself on the cabana and went to Mambo night at the hotel up the road and every singles event at every hotel in the area. He literally farmed out his excess like an X rated version of Fonzi. His room had a mirrored foil and he had every novelty gag on the planet. We used to prank each other with stuff that was similar to MASH type stuff. Lets just say that the behaviors that went on there were on a par with XXX material from a cheesy porn flick. I can't ever complain about the guy as he used to set my social schedule. When my younger coworkers think I haven't lived a life of adventure I tell them about my days as a sometimes wing man of Captain S. Of course many of these people are sceptical and think that someone who behaved like the Captain should have been felled
by venereal disease, an outraged spouse or family member or psycho chick he picked up. The Captain stayed with the hotel until it ended and went to a resort in Florida where he remembers the good old days.
The captain was a real person who just defied every known law of mathematical probability. There were some younger college students he refused to sleep with because they were like kid sisters to him. He has generations of new fans who think my descriptions are exaggerations. The secret was as a good hotel man the Captain grasped catering to his audiences desires and he did. He catered to whatever fantasies his women wanted. He was angry that a few times a woman he scheduled with me didn't bother with him when they returned. I guess my naive fresh enthusiasm had its uses. I was told that it had the illusion of something more but I was literally a #%$^^ buddy, but having someone who wasn't in a hurry to leave was appreciated. It wasn't real, but it conveyed the illusion of it. I was no angel and if my younger coworkers think they are all that they just would not think I was capable of doing things they only imagined with breath taking beauties.
The upper caste long term employees lived in an excellent place across the road from the employees entrance. No college students lived there to the best of my knowledge. It was a former hotel that was in much better condition than the congress building where I lived. Maybe the great Mr. G just came as a student and never left. The famous aging Jazz musician was a good friend who played a late night show would go to the coffee shop get a bite and go a short distance to the Congress building.
Long term employees who did menial jobs filled the next caste. I identified with these hard working simple folk. Most lived in town and had families. Underneath the huge kitchen they toiled in the pantry, bakery or butcher shop. The best of these were sent to the golf clubhouse or the patio kitchen. The most clean cut were sent there. Sometimes, I helped out in the pantry and met the Hispanics who ran the area in their chores. Later as a waiter they took good care of me. Many of these people were interesting. My cousin was a security guard and went onto a job as a correction officer in a facility nearby. I was friendly with many of the security guards as a result of that relationship. My cousin married a woman who worked behind the front desk.
The last caste were generously known as transients. There were some dangerous criminals and I remember a young boss pointing out to me stay far away from that one, there is much you don't know. These transients lived in the bungalow down the road. I stayed there once when we had too many females in the congress building. By then I was a veteran at the Hotel and a tough customer. I didn't mind staying there but the folks in human resources moved me quickly. The workers drank and many were devoted to their cats.
Across the road was a former hotel where the really dangerous place. It was a former hotel that had a single entrance and was surrounded with a thick barbed wire fence. This place was so dangerous the security guards except for gung ho Nick never wanted to go there. When they went even former Vietnam vets went in pairs. Allegedly, the place was full of drugs and violence. If you were homeless you could come here work as a dishwasher and make a few bucks for drugs or alcohol.
Down the road was a nasty bar where the hard core alcoholics would give the owner their whole paycheck. It was a nasty place down the road and some retirees were there. Oddly, when the hotel was demolished and few structures remain this one is still there all boarded up. Across the road was the boarding house where my friend John Hyde lived. That structure not only exists but appears in better shape than when John lived there.
Back towards the hotel was a bar that at one time was topless. Above it was a smaller hotel where some workers lived. It was said to be owned by the nasty son in law of the owner. His wife and daughter were such wonderful people. Some of the higher class transients lived there and there was plenty of alcohol and sexual activities of all type. This was where the ill fated girl of my romance lived with her breath taking red head sister. The sisters violent boyfriend fancied himself a drummer. They disappeared and I hope she ditched this guy as she was sweet in her own way.
The owners son in law was a Dr. and a first class jerk. He used to do an absurd physical. Lift your shirt drop your pants turn your head cough. He would frequently make rude comments. I joked that I had been through the physical so many times the Dr had probably seen my privates more than a few girl friends.
The owners sons were okay. The second one was just a decent guy who married an exceptional wife. His wife exuded beauty, grace, poise and charm. She was the queen of the hotel and her smile and warmth were genuine. She helped many people and her children had the best of her qualities.
In general my place in this world was probably higher on the food chain than I was aware of. Then again I was petrified of falling in love with a super wealthy girl and not fitting in that world. As a business scool student the townies were not really my world either. Some strange marriages too place that were the exception like a friends brother who married a sweet but slow coffee shop waitress. She really was a townie but her brother likely enjoyed her good natured personality.
Long term relationships between the seasons guests and the staff were frowned upon. There was no shortage of flings and people breaking every vow imaginable.
I miss those days and I am thankful to see it even if it was right before the curtain dropped.
The Catskill era was about a simpler time. Families went to a Hotel to be pampered. The food was excellent and the entertainment was world class. A comedian worked the pool and a Jazz Musician played his standards and the guests could have a meal on the patio on the pool where I worked for a few seasons.
I spent my nights at the coffee shop at a slow station or by the takeout area.
There were clear divisions between workers and guests. The owners didn't mind if the college students sunbathed on the cabana. An attractive 20 year old co-ed was a pleasant distraction and harmless. There were romances between the children of seasons guests and the college students. Most of the college students were from wealthy families.
There was an unwritten caste system. A college student could enjoy the cabana or was encouraged to visit the mixers on singles weekends. The next caste was the young townies. They were forbidden to be anywhere on the grounds. Romances between the college students and townies did happen but they were frowned upon by all. I found myself on the wrong end of one of these romances. When it went bad my heart was broken. Quietly while I went to school the hotel had fired this girlfriend. My heart was devastated and two young managers who were like sisters looked after me. To this day I remain grateful to Barbara and Dana who looked after me with my first broken heart. The girl was an alcoholic, but very beautiful. Even a local famous comedian quipped "hey kid why not make love to a bottle of cheap booze and cut out the middle man.." I always thought she was deceased but I found her name in a recent police report in Troy listed as homeless. A famous writers daughter who I thought of as flighty said "Beaky, she isn't for you. You are going on to other things and she will just drag you down and ruin you and kick you while you are down. The writers daughter was correct and in no definition flighty. She was a brilliant live wire who was smarter than you realized and had a huge heart. It was only in the Catskills that our paths would cross. She used drag me out when I wanted to work. I can't thank her because she passed away before her time in her 40's. I went to the funeral and sat near a neighbor who mistook me for a lawyer. I guess I don't carry the federal officer bit with bearing.
As a college student we lived and ate in different places than the others. There was a separate dinning area for the students. The place where the workers ate was called the bimi cafeteria. I loved the bimi cafeteria and looked forward on rare occasions eating the midnight meal with the workers. There were friends of mine who were stewards, security guards and others. One special friend was named John Hyde who was a veteran of WW2. He was an army buddy of the owners nephew who ran the kitchen. He worked in the kitchen and described army life. He was a conservative who lived in the rooming house up the block. He worked in house keeping. One day in the eighties when I returned a security guard I used to chat with late nights told me "your friend died of a heart attack over the winter". I liked eating in the dreaded bimi cafeteria on the rare occasion I ate with the students it was usually the writers daughter dragging me kicking and screaming. I had a look that was frequently confused with a young Tony Curtis. It was not uncommon for one of the fellow students to take an interest and drag me around. They were beautiful special daughters from the best families, but my head was in a different place. I was really, not of their world as my family though locally prominent and respected was not in those stratospheres. I remember the writers daughter explaining to me everything was in my mind and I was one of them. Funny, but I didn't like the idea of being served. Later on when I lived briefly with a supermarket heiress I would create a stir by cooking my own meals and letting the cleaning woman eat with us. I learned the basics of cooking at the hotel and made world class meals on lower fifth where I lived briefly.
The building I lived in was called the Congress building. It was a short distance from the pool and coffee shop. The building was mostly similar college students. The exception were a famed Jazz musician in his later years, the planets best busboy who looked like Dan Hedaya and the infamous playboy I called Captain S. There was a notorious and nasty gay Captain who lived in the building. He used to try and peek
at the college students as they showered and was creepy. I later worked with many fine gay men in several jobs but this guy was seedy. The planets best busboy was a brilliant student who arrived in the 50's and never left. He hired me to help him out and was generous. His area had most of the season guest high rollers. One of them had two breath taking daughters and the youngest one went from ordinary to dreamy overnight. She was never snobby, but I kept my distance as her family was just in another world that I didn't belong in. The greatest busboy was someone I call the Great Mr. G. He was going to Brooklyn College and swore he couldn't learn languages. He stayed over the summer and promised he would go back to school thirty years later it never happened. He was a brilliant stock player and never needed to work. Somehow love never seemed to hit him and he just remained frozen in time collecting a huger portfolio and occasionally going to Florida on vacation. He got into a fight with the maitre d a few years before the end and was spared seeing the last chapter.
The Captain across the hall was the planets most notorious playboy. He slept with everything but never more than once or twice. If a woman had a fantasy he lived it. He sunned himself on the cabana and went to Mambo night at the hotel up the road and every singles event at every hotel in the area. He literally farmed out his excess like an X rated version of Fonzi. His room had a mirrored foil and he had every novelty gag on the planet. We used to prank each other with stuff that was similar to MASH type stuff. Lets just say that the behaviors that went on there were on a par with XXX material from a cheesy porn flick. I can't ever complain about the guy as he used to set my social schedule. When my younger coworkers think I haven't lived a life of adventure I tell them about my days as a sometimes wing man of Captain S. Of course many of these people are sceptical and think that someone who behaved like the Captain should have been felled
by venereal disease, an outraged spouse or family member or psycho chick he picked up. The Captain stayed with the hotel until it ended and went to a resort in Florida where he remembers the good old days.
The captain was a real person who just defied every known law of mathematical probability. There were some younger college students he refused to sleep with because they were like kid sisters to him. He has generations of new fans who think my descriptions are exaggerations. The secret was as a good hotel man the Captain grasped catering to his audiences desires and he did. He catered to whatever fantasies his women wanted. He was angry that a few times a woman he scheduled with me didn't bother with him when they returned. I guess my naive fresh enthusiasm had its uses. I was told that it had the illusion of something more but I was literally a #%$^^ buddy, but having someone who wasn't in a hurry to leave was appreciated. It wasn't real, but it conveyed the illusion of it. I was no angel and if my younger coworkers think they are all that they just would not think I was capable of doing things they only imagined with breath taking beauties.
The upper caste long term employees lived in an excellent place across the road from the employees entrance. No college students lived there to the best of my knowledge. It was a former hotel that was in much better condition than the congress building where I lived. Maybe the great Mr. G just came as a student and never left. The famous aging Jazz musician was a good friend who played a late night show would go to the coffee shop get a bite and go a short distance to the Congress building.
Long term employees who did menial jobs filled the next caste. I identified with these hard working simple folk. Most lived in town and had families. Underneath the huge kitchen they toiled in the pantry, bakery or butcher shop. The best of these were sent to the golf clubhouse or the patio kitchen. The most clean cut were sent there. Sometimes, I helped out in the pantry and met the Hispanics who ran the area in their chores. Later as a waiter they took good care of me. Many of these people were interesting. My cousin was a security guard and went onto a job as a correction officer in a facility nearby. I was friendly with many of the security guards as a result of that relationship. My cousin married a woman who worked behind the front desk.
The last caste were generously known as transients. There were some dangerous criminals and I remember a young boss pointing out to me stay far away from that one, there is much you don't know. These transients lived in the bungalow down the road. I stayed there once when we had too many females in the congress building. By then I was a veteran at the Hotel and a tough customer. I didn't mind staying there but the folks in human resources moved me quickly. The workers drank and many were devoted to their cats.
Across the road was a former hotel where the really dangerous place. It was a former hotel that had a single entrance and was surrounded with a thick barbed wire fence. This place was so dangerous the security guards except for gung ho Nick never wanted to go there. When they went even former Vietnam vets went in pairs. Allegedly, the place was full of drugs and violence. If you were homeless you could come here work as a dishwasher and make a few bucks for drugs or alcohol.
Down the road was a nasty bar where the hard core alcoholics would give the owner their whole paycheck. It was a nasty place down the road and some retirees were there. Oddly, when the hotel was demolished and few structures remain this one is still there all boarded up. Across the road was the boarding house where my friend John Hyde lived. That structure not only exists but appears in better shape than when John lived there.
Back towards the hotel was a bar that at one time was topless. Above it was a smaller hotel where some workers lived. It was said to be owned by the nasty son in law of the owner. His wife and daughter were such wonderful people. Some of the higher class transients lived there and there was plenty of alcohol and sexual activities of all type. This was where the ill fated girl of my romance lived with her breath taking red head sister. The sisters violent boyfriend fancied himself a drummer. They disappeared and I hope she ditched this guy as she was sweet in her own way.
The owners son in law was a Dr. and a first class jerk. He used to do an absurd physical. Lift your shirt drop your pants turn your head cough. He would frequently make rude comments. I joked that I had been through the physical so many times the Dr had probably seen my privates more than a few girl friends.
The owners sons were okay. The second one was just a decent guy who married an exceptional wife. His wife exuded beauty, grace, poise and charm. She was the queen of the hotel and her smile and warmth were genuine. She helped many people and her children had the best of her qualities.
In general my place in this world was probably higher on the food chain than I was aware of. Then again I was petrified of falling in love with a super wealthy girl and not fitting in that world. As a business scool student the townies were not really my world either. Some strange marriages too place that were the exception like a friends brother who married a sweet but slow coffee shop waitress. She really was a townie but her brother likely enjoyed her good natured personality.
Long term relationships between the seasons guests and the staff were frowned upon. There was no shortage of flings and people breaking every vow imaginable.
I miss those days and I am thankful to see it even if it was right before the curtain dropped.
Heat Wave
I hate the steaming heat of NYC. This current heat wave is expected to last into the week end. When I retire I will go someplace beyond the heat. It seldom gets to 95 in Sulivan county as Ferndale is about 1100 feet above sea level. Thee next time the Vermonters call me a Flatlander I will have to remind them Staten Island is also way above sea level and Fendale is likely higher than wherever they live.
In January I will be at blog post 3000.
I am working on a very long one about the real world of the Catskill resorts as I saw it. I wish I could locate my uniforms from the resort I worked it and donate it to the Catskill Historical Institute. Much of this history is being lost and reclaimed by nature. All those memories of fun and families, entertainers, gangsters and transients lost forever in time.
You might encounter some of this world in Dirty Dancing or Sweet Loraine but this is a fairly tale compared to the real world I knew.
In January I will be at blog post 3000.
I am working on a very long one about the real world of the Catskill resorts as I saw it. I wish I could locate my uniforms from the resort I worked it and donate it to the Catskill Historical Institute. Much of this history is being lost and reclaimed by nature. All those memories of fun and families, entertainers, gangsters and transients lost forever in time.
You might encounter some of this world in Dirty Dancing or Sweet Loraine but this is a fairly tale compared to the real world I knew.
Finnishing Thhe Jew is Not My Enemy
I am near the end of the book. The book makes some interesting points. While the book is intereting ang thought provoking it is more interesting what the reaction of so called official spokesmen like CAIR have to his voice of reason. In general there are voices of sanity within the Islamic community like Stephen Schwartz of the CIP. Unfortunately, the media prefers shrill and bellicose to sane and rational.
Wednesday, July 04, 2012
America are you stupid
Much has been said about the recent moves by Obama to sure up his bases. The most transparent of these moves was his alleged 9th hour conversion to support of gay marriage. Obama always was a supporter but threw gays under the bus in an attempt to make himself look like a centrist on election day. There have been plenty of reports showing his actual position prior to running. He peddles the myth of courage and changes his position and goes directly to a Hollywood fundraiser. Only in Hollywood does a moron like Barbara Streisand qualify as brilliant. Other than James Woods you can not find too many Hollywood types with a brain.
Hispanics are alegedly big supporters due to Obama's last second immigration theartrics. He does this act also right before his head is in the chopping block.
Blacks have suffered disproportionately in this recession. What has Obama done to create real jobs???
Obama is not capable of fixing the economy. Our best hope is that the business cycle will blunt his negligent initiatives. The house members need to strangle Obama care by cutting off all funding. We should also demand a similar cutt off unless with aid to higher ed unless they agree to substansive reforms. The bottom line is that Obama has made no efforts to control costs in these areas. We as taxpayers need to demand accountability in DC and if we get serious about cutting budgets we can negotiate actual reforms.
A vote for Obama is a vote to extend the recession. If you like high unemployment, poor leadership and a self deluded pot head intellectual Obama is your man.
The question for Obama supporters is are you stupid.
Hispanics are alegedly big supporters due to Obama's last second immigration theartrics. He does this act also right before his head is in the chopping block.
Blacks have suffered disproportionately in this recession. What has Obama done to create real jobs???
Obama is not capable of fixing the economy. Our best hope is that the business cycle will blunt his negligent initiatives. The house members need to strangle Obama care by cutting off all funding. We should also demand a similar cutt off unless with aid to higher ed unless they agree to substansive reforms. The bottom line is that Obama has made no efforts to control costs in these areas. We as taxpayers need to demand accountability in DC and if we get serious about cutting budgets we can negotiate actual reforms.
A vote for Obama is a vote to extend the recession. If you like high unemployment, poor leadership and a self deluded pot head intellectual Obama is your man.
The question for Obama supporters is are you stupid.
Lost worlds
I have searched far and wide for articles with what happened to the workers in the former Catskills hotels and the garment center. The students like myself went on to careers that are likely unextraordinary. I graduated from college went into the fashion industry and reinvented myself as a federal law enforcement officer. My cousin David never finnished college and went from security in the hotels to a career as a corrections officer and recently retired. What happened to the cooks, housekeepers and others that worked full time.
Even before the Hotels were finnished many went to Florida for the winter but came back for christmas and passover.
We have the stories of the movers and shakers and to a lesser extent the guests but the kitchen help was invisibile.
Oddly, in my trip to the Catskills one place that still exists is the nasty bar the hard core alcoholics used to visit after work. The bar is long since shuttered the dishwashers and other addicts used to walk down the hill to the bar and give their whole check. They would live in a nasty place surrounded by barbed wire. The guards would almost never venture in there. A few times with shortages I ended up in a bungalow across the road with the area that handled some of the skilled kitchen help. It was memorable how the lonely workers took great pride in their cats and talked of distant dreams. Across the road you could hear the ocaisional fight.
The story of Dirty Dancing captivates many and oddly even in distant Guyana is a film that resonates there.
The workers knew their place and even when I was told it was okay to mingle there was hesitation. As a Jewish male who was a serious college student there was a chasm between my upper middle class world and many of the guests. I remember discussing it with the late Kelly Breslin who was vivacious lively and ever opinionated. Her view was that these divisions only existed in my mind and I was just another college student. Somehow, I always knew my place and never identified with that crowd. There were a few times she dragged me out and I will always cherish those memories of a fun loving fiesty and witty charachter.
Even before the Hotels were finnished many went to Florida for the winter but came back for christmas and passover.
We have the stories of the movers and shakers and to a lesser extent the guests but the kitchen help was invisibile.
Oddly, in my trip to the Catskills one place that still exists is the nasty bar the hard core alcoholics used to visit after work. The bar is long since shuttered the dishwashers and other addicts used to walk down the hill to the bar and give their whole check. They would live in a nasty place surrounded by barbed wire. The guards would almost never venture in there. A few times with shortages I ended up in a bungalow across the road with the area that handled some of the skilled kitchen help. It was memorable how the lonely workers took great pride in their cats and talked of distant dreams. Across the road you could hear the ocaisional fight.
The story of Dirty Dancing captivates many and oddly even in distant Guyana is a film that resonates there.
The workers knew their place and even when I was told it was okay to mingle there was hesitation. As a Jewish male who was a serious college student there was a chasm between my upper middle class world and many of the guests. I remember discussing it with the late Kelly Breslin who was vivacious lively and ever opinionated. Her view was that these divisions only existed in my mind and I was just another college student. Somehow, I always knew my place and never identified with that crowd. There were a few times she dragged me out and I will always cherish those memories of a fun loving fiesty and witty charachter.
Tuesday, July 03, 2012
Lost Worlds
The younger officers I mentor sometimes hear me wax on about the Catskills and or the Garment District. Today, they are vestiges of what they were and I may as well be talking about dinosaurs. My journey across those lost worlds to become an officer is a story in and of itself.
A favorite of the younger crowd was the antics of Captain Scott. The Captain lived across the hall from me for many seasons. He was a legendary playboy who literally who was so busy it is a miracle that his privates didn't fall off from all the abuse. People think the antics I describe were part of a comedic routine but they were based on fact. What was amazing with all of those women he never got killed by venereal diseases, a jealous boyfriend or a psycho chick. He was also the greatest practical joker, I ever saw.
Now amongst my travels, I located a short paragraph written by the Captain. I will show the paragraph to his fans who think of him as a literary archetype/comedic foil. Some day, I seriously have to pen a tome about all these crazy adventures across the lost worlds in the various industries. If I were reading about some of these people I would think they were fiction. In many ways reality is much stranger than fiction.
A favorite of the younger crowd was the antics of Captain Scott. The Captain lived across the hall from me for many seasons. He was a legendary playboy who literally who was so busy it is a miracle that his privates didn't fall off from all the abuse. People think the antics I describe were part of a comedic routine but they were based on fact. What was amazing with all of those women he never got killed by venereal diseases, a jealous boyfriend or a psycho chick. He was also the greatest practical joker, I ever saw.
Now amongst my travels, I located a short paragraph written by the Captain. I will show the paragraph to his fans who think of him as a literary archetype/comedic foil. Some day, I seriously have to pen a tome about all these crazy adventures across the lost worlds in the various industries. If I were reading about some of these people I would think they were fiction. In many ways reality is much stranger than fiction.
Monday, July 02, 2012
Returning home
The Catskill Mountains has a very special place in my heart. It is connected intimately with my childhood and young adult life. It was there that I walked through the woods as a child. It was there that I had my first job. It was there I had my first love and many other firsts.
My fathers connection goes back decades before mine. You can get a glimpse of the life there by viewing the movie Dirty Dancing or Sweet Lorraine.
The largest and greatest hotel was the Concord. The demolition of the place was so complette you can't even tell anything stood there. The sole survivor is home of the Robert Parker family, but that may be temporary. The cottages where the workers lived are similarly gone. The bar across the street is also gone.
Oddly, the nasty bar where the diswashersused to give the owner their paycheck is also gone, but the structure is there. The rooming house where my friend John lived 20 years ago is still there. John worked at the Concord for 30 years and we had many meals together. One summer, I came up and a security guard told me your buddy had a heart attack and died in the spring.
There was a small town named Parksville with the best soft ice cream place on the planet. The highway was moved so it passed the town. This is probably the last season the custard place will be there. Long ago an excellent resturant named Poppys burned in a fire and never reopened.
Surprisingly, many of the bungalow colonies I summered in are still there. They were rebuilt and sold as condos. Small kosher pizza places and coffee shops open for the summer. The hassidic Jews come in droves for the summer and provide money for the local businesses other than fast food shops.
I went to the family estate and visited a cousin. I could not find the stone walls where I learned about snakes. There was a grassy field about 30 feet long that is gone. There were the familiar orange flowers that were everywhere around July. I didn't even get to see the nearby hemlock forrest with a single paper birch oddly in the center. I did not get to see the huge boulders that I played on as a kid and imagined they were mountains or vestiges of a sandbox that was reclaimed by the forrest. I did view a swimming hole I helped build. The family dredged a stream pool with rocks and made a stone dam. The hole was about eight foot deep and cold on a hot day.
The famous Brown's Hotel was doing okay as a time share until April when it was burned beyond repair in a mysterious fire.
When I retire I want to spend the last years of my life away from NYC in these hills. A nice small place to spend my golden years watching the few remaining seasons of my life dreaming of woods and watching the land reclaim itself. I hope enough of it is left so that I can live this dream.
The towns are not imaginitive. Oddly, they could probably survive by luring NYC people with busses to the City. A place where Civil Servants could live and raise small families. There is ample land and modular housing on two acre lots could be the field of dreams for many.
It was a depressing visit. I will see if I can locate the book the oral history of the Catskills. It will be good to hear of Grossingers and the comedy of Lou Goldstein. I can imagine the music of Erskine Hawkins who was a friend and the horrible bimmi kitchen. Some of you can hear glimpses of this world when Michael Savage talks of the long gone Hotel Flagler and strange locals who lived off the land.
My fathers connection goes back decades before mine. You can get a glimpse of the life there by viewing the movie Dirty Dancing or Sweet Lorraine.
The largest and greatest hotel was the Concord. The demolition of the place was so complette you can't even tell anything stood there. The sole survivor is home of the Robert Parker family, but that may be temporary. The cottages where the workers lived are similarly gone. The bar across the street is also gone.
Oddly, the nasty bar where the diswashersused to give the owner their paycheck is also gone, but the structure is there. The rooming house where my friend John lived 20 years ago is still there. John worked at the Concord for 30 years and we had many meals together. One summer, I came up and a security guard told me your buddy had a heart attack and died in the spring.
There was a small town named Parksville with the best soft ice cream place on the planet. The highway was moved so it passed the town. This is probably the last season the custard place will be there. Long ago an excellent resturant named Poppys burned in a fire and never reopened.
Surprisingly, many of the bungalow colonies I summered in are still there. They were rebuilt and sold as condos. Small kosher pizza places and coffee shops open for the summer. The hassidic Jews come in droves for the summer and provide money for the local businesses other than fast food shops.
I went to the family estate and visited a cousin. I could not find the stone walls where I learned about snakes. There was a grassy field about 30 feet long that is gone. There were the familiar orange flowers that were everywhere around July. I didn't even get to see the nearby hemlock forrest with a single paper birch oddly in the center. I did not get to see the huge boulders that I played on as a kid and imagined they were mountains or vestiges of a sandbox that was reclaimed by the forrest. I did view a swimming hole I helped build. The family dredged a stream pool with rocks and made a stone dam. The hole was about eight foot deep and cold on a hot day.
The famous Brown's Hotel was doing okay as a time share until April when it was burned beyond repair in a mysterious fire.
When I retire I want to spend the last years of my life away from NYC in these hills. A nice small place to spend my golden years watching the few remaining seasons of my life dreaming of woods and watching the land reclaim itself. I hope enough of it is left so that I can live this dream.
The towns are not imaginitive. Oddly, they could probably survive by luring NYC people with busses to the City. A place where Civil Servants could live and raise small families. There is ample land and modular housing on two acre lots could be the field of dreams for many.
It was a depressing visit. I will see if I can locate the book the oral history of the Catskills. It will be good to hear of Grossingers and the comedy of Lou Goldstein. I can imagine the music of Erskine Hawkins who was a friend and the horrible bimmi kitchen. Some of you can hear glimpses of this world when Michael Savage talks of the long gone Hotel Flagler and strange locals who lived off the land.
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