A GRAND OPENING

SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (08-18-16)

Every couple years I always wish I had time to watch the Olympics, but I just don't. That's why I usually end up apologizing to my boss that some stuff didn't get done because I was watching the Olympics. I checked out the opening ceremonies, which were riveting, because I love the pageantry. I don't know exactly what pageantry is but I love it.
     My favorite is the "Parade of Nations." People walked into the arena from every country in the world, which was already amazing because not every country is within walking distance. There were oddly-dressed people on large tricycles leading each country's team in, people that looked like they would have been asked to leave if it were anyplace other than Rio. I felt like a character in "Alice in Wonderland," only I had eaten the wrong dosages of things. Sometimes it looked like a group of people had wandered in looking for Pokémon Go. Other times it looked like Pokémon had already gone.
     The athletes were videotaping everyone in the audience, and everyone in the audience was videotaping the athletes. There wasn't anyone in the arena with more than one eye showing. Which is sad because if you think about it, this is basically the cream of the crop of the human race; just about everyone on the floor of the arena has achieved great feats through their body and skills. Hardly anyone was there because of their great personality.
     Some countries were so small, they only had a couple athletes, maybe a ping-pong player and a guy who is really good at playing the trombone, which is not a recognized Olympic event, at least not yet. I don't want to seem like more of an ignoramus than usual, but there are so many countries that you just flat-out forget are even out there.
     Djibouti, for instance. The harder I try to pronounce it correctly, the harder I get slapped in the face. This might be a case of people assuming things about me that are primarily true. The Luxembourg team promenaded through the arena. That's a place where you always feel like you overpaid for something, but I can't put my finger on it.
     Spain entered, wearing Panama hats that made them look like they just came from somebody's 50th birthday party. Chinese Taipei was there, a country smart enough to include their blood type right in the name. You never know when there might be some kind of mishap with the javelin throw or something.
     Samoa, where they make great Girl Scout cookies by the way. Micronesia was represented. You have to root for their country to grow so you can at least see it. Kazakhstan had a team. I tried to use Kazakhstan in Scrabble once but it wasn't in the Scrabble dictionary and I lost my turn, so I am rooting against them, obviously. France strolled in wearing some slightly goofy-looking outfits. Those bon vivants looked like tourists for once.
     The president of the Olympic Committee gave a speech. I was watching it on television in a bar, and my Spanish language lip-reading isn't as good as it could be, but it was obvious to me that he was quoting from a Michelle Obama speech from 1998.
     There wasn't one person there who didn't look like they were having the time of their life, and that alone was refreshing. I heard all these stories that Brazil was in shambles, and the corruption, and the zika virus, and the pickpockets, and the doping scandals, and the blah-ba-di-blah-ba-di-blah. As each delegation walked in, and no one said the word "Trump" even once, I realized that Rio might not be so bad after all.
 

ACING THE COURSE

SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (08-11-16)

     I read here in the Record that Somers native Rachael Goldstein is competing in "American Ninja Warriors," one of my favorite television shows. It's a program that pits ordinary people against a series of tests of strength and agility. These events have names like "Salmon Ladder" and "Jumping Spider," which you can try to order at a Chinese restaurant just for fun.

     I love the show because it reminds me of a time about 30 years ago, when I was flipping through the channels with the remote control. I noticed this show where two dudes were poking at each other with a huge Q-tip. That got my attention. Then this gal who looked like she had blown her hair out for another 20 minutes after it was already dry started hunting people with a gun that shot giant Q-tips. I couldn't help thinking that this show could REVOLUTIONIZE aural hygiene.

     The show was called "American Gladiators," and it starred an assembly of steroid-swilling ex-football players and female body builders who vied against two guest competitors in various games and contests. I became addicted to it for six years, until I finally got myself into a 12-step program, where I took 12 steps away from the television and went into the kitchen, where I discovered Dove ice cream bars.

     At the end  of the show the two contestants would line up to run through an obstacle course with hand bikes, blocking dummies, rope swings and a balance beam. If you fell off the balance beam two female gladiators were waiting for you in a "penalty pit," and one of them would whack you over the head with a ball peen hammer and the other one would give you a wedgie.

     Rachael Goldstein apparently trained for only four months to be a Ninja Warrior. She successfully jumped across a bunch of rubber doohickies, swung on a rope, held onto a large cylinder attached to a huge key ring, ran across a bunch of massive ping-pong paddles, jumped on a trampoline and grabbed onto a giant wheel which she tried to spin with her hands, but that some weasel had sabotaged so that she couldn't get a good grip, and so she fell off.

     These are not just a bunch of useless skills, like math. Let's say you're out in the jungle of Costa Rica, and I mention Costa Rica because I saw a hotel there with THREE gorgeous swimming pools, and I can picture myself on a lounge chair, laying out in the golden sun, complaining that they don't have any Coors Light. But let's say the pools are on the fritz, and so there you are in the jungle, holding onto a log that's rolling downhill. I suppose you could just let go of the log, but then you'd have to walk all the way down the hill.

     Or let's say the tiki bar is closed and you're out in the jungle again, being chased by a three-toed sloth. First of all, if you can't outrun a three-toed sloth you're a complete idiot. But let's say this one has four toes and runs super fast, and all of a sudden a cargo net appears, which luckily doesn't have any cargo in it. So you zip up that cargo net like nobody's business, not realizing that a sloth climbs MUCH faster than it runs. Either way, you are sloth chow, so bad example.

     They also have this thing called the "warped wall," which was invented when we hired a contractor that we hadn't completely vetted. We might have gotten him from Angie's List, but it could have been her grocery list or something.

     Anyway, I actually saw Rachael's run on "American Ninja Warriors," and let me say she did REALLY well, finishing four challenges before falling off the "Wheel of Doom," which is a name I just made up. By virtue of her successful appearance in the American Ninja regional qualifiers, Rachael Goldstein will be moving on to the next round, so congratulations! I will be watching for her, and if they could find a way to work a giant Q-tip into the show they could kiss waxy build-up goodbye.

HILLY AND BILLY TAKE PHILLY

SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (08-04-16)

     Last week it was time for the Democrats to have their say. Hillary Clinton energized the party by choosing her running mate. To capture the chemistry of the moment, she did it through Twitter, tweeting, "I'm thrilled to announce my running mate, @TimKaine...." She went on to say that she has known him for a long time, and that they are such good friends that she often calls him "@Tim," and sometimes just "@."

     When they appeared together, they showed perfect unity by conversing in two different languages. He spoke fluent Spanish to the crowd, and she smiled, hoping that he wasn't saying anything unflattering about her hair, which he would have had every right to do. Her eyes lit up when he said something that sounded like "burrito."

     They gaveled in the convention by accusing the Russians of stealing their emails and publishing them. What they should have said was the the Russians also wrote them. Every time I send an email at work that somebody might not like, I always sign "Vladimir Putin" at the bottom, in case it doesn't go over too well.

     The proceedings started with some disunity, to be sure. Bernie Sanders supporters were so disappointed that Bernie Sanders wasn't going to be their nominee, that they even booed Bernie Sanders, for not being their nominee. It seemed like they had just found this out, and they booed everything that happened from then on. It was a little like a Knicks game.

     Michelle Obama delivered a rousing and emotional speech that set the tone. If Melania Trump liked the one in 2008, she's going to LOVE this one. I don't know if Mrs. Trump is going to be speaking anytime soon, but if she happens to mention that she has two black daughters playing on the White House lawn, it would make me suspicious.

     Vice President Joe Biden used words like "malarkey" to show that Donald Trump is out of touch with the times. He then warned the delegates not to take any wooden nickels.

     When it came time for Hillary's speech I braced myself. Whenever she talks in front of large groups, she tends to raise her voice as she gets more excited, and it sounds like she is yelling at me for not cleaning my room. And as a result, even when she is in the middle of an oration about the economy, or foreign policy, I go and clean my room, and then I can't find anything for two weeks.

     If Secretary Clinton is elected she will have to overcome an appalling lack of any sense of fashion. One outfit she has worn appeared to be similar to the uniform of the Communist Party from the 1950s. Another time she wore an orange ensemble that made her look like she was incarcerated in a pumpkin patch. Once she wore what looked like really uncomfortable pajamas and a hat. If you need one reason to vote for Hillary Clinton, consider this: these clothes MUST be confined to the White House. If she loses the election she will probably donate them to charity, and we will be forced to feel sorry for underprivileged ladies wearing $22,000 designer pants suits. If there isn't an organization called "Clothing for the Blind," perhaps there should be.

     I don't have a crystal ball, and I can't tell you if Hillary Clinton and @TimKaine will be elected in the fall. And if I could see into the future, I would be concentrating on whether the Giants look like they finally have a running game or not. But I do know that if Hillary Clinton is president next year, my room will be a whole lot cleaner.

MAKING PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGNS GREAT AGAIN

SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (07-28-16)

      So I was flipping around the television last week, and what did I find? A new reality show starring DONALD J. TRUMP! From what I could see, the premise of the show ist that he runs for President of the United States, and he tries to get people to vote for him by insulting them! It was on every night last week, and I couldn't take my eyes off it!

      His wife, Melania, showed up and gave a speech that summarized many familiar Republican values. They were so familiar that I remembered them from 2008, when they were valued at the Democratic Convention. She told the audience that "you work hard for what you want in life," and if you don't want to work that hard, you can just copy stuff. Those are the values that got me through elementary school, when I had to do a book report and just basically copied it from the World Book encyclopedia. I would have copied this column too if I could find our World Book encyclopedias.

      Melania is from Slovenia, or it could be the other way around. She delivered her speech with the kind of rousing flourish seen at beauty pageants when they ask the contestant a question about current events. She showed up in a white monotone dress, and you can fill in your own joke here if you want. Up until now she hasn't said much, and seemed as if she was treating her husband's campaign as something he was cooking up in the basement and would have to clean up himself when it was over.

      Then former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani came out, and he yelled a lot and looked like he might blow a fuse and all the lights would go out. Ted Cruz came out and implied that you might be better off voting for somebody else. Chachi came out, and said Donald Trump was the man he endorsed, since Scott Walker wasn't in it anymore. Then the guy from Duck Dynasty came out, or it might have been the guy from ZZ Top.

      Then Trump came out, and he was standing on this huge platform, so IN YOUR FACE to everybody who said he didn't have one. Trump repeated his vow to have a wall built around America, and that he's going to make Mexico pay for it. We had a wall built next to our driveway, and you know who built it? Three Mexicans, so maybe Trump is right about that. I think it would be cheaper to build a moat, fill it in with a garden hose, then put alligators in it. But then you would need a wall to keep the alligators from coming over.

      Trump painted a dark and bleak picture of America, a place that no one would ever want to live, including terrorists and illegal immigrants. So he already fixed two problems by the end of the speech! America is great again! By the way, Trump owns the trademark to "Make America Great Again," so if anyone else tries to make America great again, Trump can sue them. He also mentioned that the current administration has done nothing to curtail the proliferation of ISIS. He promised to build a wall around ISIS, and have Mexico pay for it.

      I read that a female protester was arrested for interrupting Trump. If interrupting people were a crime she would have had to show up at Sing Sing to interrupt him. She stood up and shouted, "Build bridges, not walls!" Whereupon the president of Mexico stood up and shouted, "And pay for them your OWN damn self!"

ONE DAY OF PEACE AND MUSIC

SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (07-21-16)

     Last Saturday a little piece of Woodstock came to Westchester, via the 12th annual Pleasantville Music Festival. Thousands of people showed up in spite of the iffy weather, and I was there at a booth for the Tarrytown Music Hall, where I volunteer as an usher from time to time. My shirt said "VOLUNTEER" on it, and a lady who thought I was with the festival came up to me and asked where the ladies room was and if there was a lost-and-found. I gave out a lot of misinformation, so I don't know where she went to the bathroom, but hopefully she'll turn up in the lost-and-found, wherever that is.

     There were still vestiges of the hippie culture in evidence. There was a girl dancing with two small Hula Hoops. From far away I thought they were the biggest earrings I had ever seen, but when I got closer, she had a whole routine going- half rhythmic gymnastics, half Harlem Globetrotters. She was way too young to remember Woodstock, and most who did would have had a tough time fitting one of those things around their waist. If you're going to ask her to slow dance you should plan to spot her about twelve feet.

     There was also a beach ball batting around up by the stage, I think one of the savings banks was giving them away at their vendor booth. The next time I turned around there were about 40 of them flying overhead. It was like a huge game of dodge-ball, and even K.T. Turnstall had to be quick on her feet, since if you get hit in dodge-ball, you're OUT.

     And for those of you who thought the tie-dye look was tie-dead, guess again! There were some people there who looked like they might start to cry if I happened to mention I heard that the Fillmore West had closed.

     There was a "beer garden" section to the south of the main stage, although the sky was so overcast I doubted whether any beer would actually grow there. It was fenced off to keep minors out, but instead created illusion of keeping all the alcoholics contained in one area. Some of them did not look as if they could negotiate their way back out even if they wanted to.

     Parents were scrambling to find the most time-consuming thing they could get their children interested in, so that they could enjoy a brief moment in time when it wasn't glaringly obvious that their kids were learning way more in school than they presently knew. They made plentiful stops to all the vendor booths that were handing out free stuff, the face-painting area, and the bouncy castle.

     I was once asked to man the face-painting booth at the Music Hall Family Day, which seemed like fun. When I suggested that we use an exterior grade alkyd paint I got re-assigned to the parking lot detail.

     By the way pre-teenagers will take anything you're handing out, if it's free. They're basically living on a fixed income, so they have a tight budget. They cleaned us out of key chains, so now they all have a place to keep their car keys. It doubles as a bottle opener, so in 12 years or so if they can remember where they put it, they can open a bottle of beer.

     No one lit their guitar on fire the way Jimi Hendrix did, which was a slight disappointment for the fire department. I was never convinced he did it on purpose, anyway- you smoke that many cigarettes and you're bound to light something on fire sooner or later.

     The weather held out pretty nicely until the last act took the stage. Their name was Guster, so when the wind picked up it was perfect symmetry. The crowd was still hanging around, still moving, still dancing. Sure, it may be a couple hip replacements since Woodstock, but that didn't slow people down any more than the knee replacements did. I hope that when I get my knee replacement, they replace my knee with someone's who danced a whole lot better than I can.

WHAT’S THAT BEAR DOING IN MY POOL?

SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (07-14-16)

     The backstroke, of course. But the spate of recent bear sightings in upper Westchester is no joke. I consider myself something of an expert on ursine behavior, having watched nothing but television cartoons for about 14 years of my life. What I have learned is that they are frisky, adventurous, playful and speak perfect English. But they can also be dangerous if provoked or engaged close by their young.

     They feel understandably angry because their habitat has been breached and shrunk by Trump real estate ventures. They are also peeved about being portrayed in television commercials as disproportionately obsessed with toilet paper and underwear. So they may be more prone than ever to lash out at humans and human-related targets.

     It is best to avoid contact with bears whenever possible. The first rule is, don't leave anything near your house that a bear could construe as edible. That means food left on a barbecue, easily accessible bird feeders, garbage not properly secured or pet food bowls outside the home.

     For instance, my wife kept noticing a mysterious wild black cat hanging around our house for weeks, looking hungry and forlorn. She left a bowl of cat chow for it, and every once in a while we would see it out there taking a quick bite. One day we were at the neighbor's house and there was the cat, sitting on the couch, looking at us like we were idiots. Barbara told us how they hardly ever fed the cat, it was "living off the land."

     Anyone should be suspicious of a cat "living off the land." These are weird, delusional animals that kill a mole not to eat, but to play with. It's not as much fun to play with a dead mole, but at least you can remember where you left it. If a cat wants food, it's going to go home and make a grilled cheese sandwich or something.

     We once camped in a yurt at Yosemite Park, and they were very strict about the storage of anything that a bear might be interested in eating. We were told to lock these items in special bear-proof containers. The only thing we were able to keep with us was a batch of my homemade biscuits I had brought along, which I think are great but my wife says should only be used as fishing-line sinkers.

     If you do come into contact with a bear, it's important that you keep your wits about you and know what to do. First, of course, take a selfie if you have time. Be sure to check your hair and makeup before you enter the forest. To make yourself appear larger, open your coat and stretch it open. This will make you appear larger than you actually are. You should also brag about your 401K.

     Do not try to run away. Bears look like they haven't hit the gym in quite a while, but they can decisively outrun a human on any terrain. You should back away slowly, talking to it so that it knows you are human. Don't mention anything about toilet paper or underwear, or the size of its nose.

     If you are an avid camper you should have a canister of pepper spray with you at all times in case of a bear attack, and to keep the kids out of your stuff. I keep one handy myself. I'm not a camper, but it's easier than using the pepper grinder.

CELEBRATING AMERICAN PRIDE

SPECIAL TO THE SOMERS RECORD (07-07-16)

     Nothing makes you prouder to be an American than to see Old Glory swaying in the breeze on the Fourth of July. Regardless of what you thought Old Glory is, it's the flag.

     It's one of the symbols Americans cling to while they argue with each other about whether we should elect an annoying president, or an idiotic president. But Independence Day is a time to set all that aside and take pride in everything it means to be an American.

     Most people believe that Betsy Ross designed the first version of the flag, which  vexillologists have questioned. Most people also believe that there is no way I would ever be able to spell  "vexillologist." Apparently the whole Betsy Ross story was started when her grandson presented a paper to the Philadelphia Historical Society relating a meeting with her husband's uncle George Ross, Robert Morris and Colonel George Washington at her upholstery shop.

     According to his account passed down through family folklore, they delivered to her the design of the flag with the stars in a circle. There were 13 of them, just a star-smattered banner, not yet fully spangled. The story goes that she suggested the stars be five-pointed instead of six, because they are easier for a seamstress to make. Her point was well taken, and she was commissioned to sew as many flags as she could manufacture, which kept her busy for the rest of her life.

     But the flag is not our only national symbol. Did you know that America has a National Mammal? I would have thought that the National Mammal was the President's Seal. But it's not, it's the North American bison. They don't call it a buffalo, I guess to avoid confusing it with that place where you have to dig your car out of six feet of snow in the middle of June. I would have lobbied for a smaller National Mammal, something the Secretary of State could pack into a briefcase, like a mongoose maybe, and let it out when negotiations start to break down.

     Our National Bird is the bald eagle, which, although aptly named, would look funny with hair on its head instead of feathers. It may have been chosen because it has kind of an angry look on its face, as though someone jumped into the express checkout line in front of it with more than 10 items. For comparison purposes, the National Bird of the island Republic of Mauritius is the dodo, which has been extinct for 300 years.

     My wife made fun of me for trying to deliver the "Pledge of Allegiance," which I cannot do without putting my hand over my heart for some reason. If a person my age stands around for that long with a hand over his heart somebody usually starts to administer CPR. I started out on the wrong foot when I recited, "I pledge of allegiance to the flag..." Apparently the "of" is only in the title. Then when I got to the part with the word "indivisible" in it I started shaking. EVERYTHING is indivisible to me, since the last time my math skills were on even a 5th grade level was when I was in the 7th grade.

     At one point there was a big hubub about whether the words "under God" should be excised from the pledge, because six year-olds who were devout atheists didn't care for it. At that age I remember being much more focused on whether or not I could tie my shoe. Do they still make kids recite it in grade school? I have no idea. We did, I guess so they could root out the communist tots who might try to share their lunch with the proletariat.