Tag Archives: food

And So It Goes

Today is Tuesday, November 11, 2025, Veterans Day 2025. I will post a comparison between this so-called president and what a former president did on this sacred holiday, but now, I’ll just state how much of a hoot Nashville was over the last four days. Elliot and I chose this destination for my upcoming birthday on Saturday, November 8, and we flew out to Nashville last Thursday, November 6. We had one friend with us, “Harvey,” who met us Thursday night at our hotel near Vanderbilt University.

The four days were marked by unseasonably warm weather for the first three days until an arctic blast moved in on Sunday and held its grip on the city until the day we left, which was Monday morning. Not surprisingly, when we got back to the Big Apple, a new moniker for our city could be the “Frigid Apple,” since the weather from Nashville accompanied us back to the Northeast. The temperature out there now is only 38 degrees, but it feels like 23 degrees, according to my weather app. Tomorrow the temperature is supposed to be a balmy 48 degrees.

The time spent in Nashville went very quickly. The first day was spent basically flying to the Music Capital of the country. We got to the hotel, the Hyatt House at Vanderbilt, after 3 or so – I can’t recall exactly the time – but we still had to wait for my friend Harvey to arrive. He had a later flight out of Newark and wasn’t slated to arrive before 6. So I had the energy to check in and do some walking around the neighborhood. I learned that there was a Vanderbilt Bookstore, so I spent most of the afternoon looking for it. I made my way onto the campus, falsely believing it was on campus, and finally realized it was on West End Avenue instead. There I spent a while scouring the shelves and eventually decided to buy a remainder book called A Life of My Own, by Claire Tomalin. I really didn’t know her at all; she has written biographies of great authors like Charles Dickens, Samuel Pepys, and Thomas Hardy. This was a memoir of her own life growing up in London throughout the mid-20th century. Hell, it was only $5.00, reduced from $17. I thought it was a great bargain. And I’m 100 pages into it already.

When Harvey arrived, it was late already – and dark. So we decided to go not that far from the hotel. We settled on a Tex-Mex place called Little Rey, which was just a block away from the hotel. It wasn’t a white-tablecloth dining experience, to say the least. But it would do since we wanted something fast and something quick. At least I didn’t have indigestion from what I ate.

The next day we met for breakfast in the hotel dining room around 8:30 or so. This was not a sleeping holiday, by no means. I would have to wait until getting home to do that. Every day I had to set my phone alarm. After breakfast, we set out to walk to downtown Nashville, which was about a mile or so away. The weather was gorgeous that day, as I previously wrote. So we walked then and discovered the vertical magnificence of the city. There were so many tall towers everywhere as we made our way to the main downtown hub that included many of those well-known music venues. Our goal was to go to the Nashville Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum, located on Rep. John Lewis Way South. We bought tickets there instead of buying them online. We spent, maybe, about an hour or so on just one floor before breaking up to go to lunch.

We had lunch at the very popular chicken joint called Hattie B’s in town, where we had to wait about a half hour on line to get in. The place is famous for its Nashville-style hot chicken and its wide range of heat levels like “mild,” “medium,” and “hot.” Other levels include “damn hot” and “shut the cluck up!” Little old nonspice me asked for the mildest temperature and no spice on the chicken. We chipped in for sharing their fired pickles, which I couldn’t ingest too much of. The two sides I ordered were the baked beans and the creamy coleslaw. Both were quite good.

After lunch, the two guys wandered off together, while I made my way back to the museum. You see, if you keep your ticket, you can use it anytime the day you purchase it. I wanted to see at least one more floor before calling it quits. My friend in Cherry Hill would be proud of me since I practically closed the museum by leaving around 5, closing time. At that time, it was raining outside, and I decided to take an Uber back to the hotel.

Elliot had planned a very nice prebirthday dinner for the three of us at this place called Husk, but the only time he could get for Friday night was 7:45 p.m. Unfortunately, Harvey decided to bow out since the time didn’t square with his usual schedule of having his bigger meal during the afternoon, not much later. Thus the restaurant saw only the two of us in their very cosy interior. Their social media page says it is “nestled in the charming quiet oasis of the Rutledge Hill neighborhood near downtown. Husk Nashville is housed in a refurbished 1880s historic home that was once the residence of a 19th-century Nashville mayor.” It certainly did look like it was a private residence when we walked in and were led to a round table near a fireplace.

When we saw the skimpy menu, we decided to order what we thought would be tantalizing: Alabama shrimp as an appetizer and share a 10-ounce strip steak. We also shared the buttermilk cheddar biscuits. For dessert, we ordered the noble spring chèvre mousse. Everything was quite delicious.

The next day, Saturday, we all met for breakfast once more. That day, we walked back into downtown where we accidentally saw a sign for the Pancake Pantry which is near the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum. It is also near the Johnny Cash Museum. Originally, we were going to this most popular eatery on Sunday, but since we saw the line for it on Saturday, I decided to wait with everyone else. This spontaneity on my part stirred Harvey to grouse slightly over my rash decision to get on line, but I persevered and stood my ground. Here Harvey left the line to get coffee up the block at The Diner. Harvey actually left us to wait on line to get to the Bridgestone Arena where he was going to attend a hockey game.

After waiting on line for about 20 minutes or so and speaking to some visitors to the city in front of us, Elliot and I were finally ushered to an outside table. I was so excited to order their signature fare: pancakes. And when I finally got my wish to ingest these fluffy pancakes, I was a little disappointed. Comparing these pancakes to those made at the Jax Inn Diner in Jackson Heights, I can quickly say the latter are much better. Sorry, Pancake Pantry, that’s how I feel.

Next I made my way up the block to the Johnny Cash Museum which I saw as much as I could in just two hours or more. I knew very little of the Man in Black, but this museum had so much memorabilia from his life which was just so informative as it provided so many details about his life and career. I strongly recommend going to this museum for anyone interested in Cash’s life.

The highlight of the trip occurred on my birthday when Elliot and I went to the Grand Ole Opry at 5:30 p.m. There were eight acts scheduled to perform that night, and we saw only seven since Elliot preferred to leave before the last act got on stage. None of the names scheduled to perform that night were known to me. There were square dancers on the bill and fiddle champions as well. The other six acts were typical country music performers like “Whispering” Bill Anderson who admitted that he began his career as early as 1964, and he looked it.

This new hall is located way out of town, which necessitated us taking an Uber for more than 20 minutes and going on the highway. The old venue was in Ryman Auditorium which was much closer downtown. But no more! This new glitzier arena has so much around it like other stores and restaurants. Sadly, we had no time to explore the area since we got to the music hall closer to 7. Also, we had no time to have dinner that evening, so I just nibbled on a bag of popcorn during the 20-minute intermission.

Our last full day, Sunday, was spent taking the Nashville Old Town Trolley tour which takes you to 13 stops along the way. We had some difficulty in finding the stop closer to our hotel, but we finally managed to find it after having breakfast somewhere else this time. We had breakfast at some hotel that featured a restaurant inside. I do recall that our waiter was a very nice-looking young man who engaged me in conversation about serial killers.

That night, Elliot and I separated from Harvey again to have spare ribs at a local eatery called Martin’s Bar-B-Que Joint, located on Elliston Place, which was not far from the hotel. But Elliot insisted we take an Uber again, so I called for one. The reason was that it was now late, dark, and cold. The place was very informal; it had the same setup as at Hattie B’s, where you walked up to a counter and put in your order. You were given a number on a stick and you left it at your table. I got a half rack of ribs and couldn’t finish the whole thing.

Well, that’s it for our Nashville trip. The next morning we woke up at 6:30, met Harvey for breakfast around 7:30, and said goodbye to him after the meal. We were leaving around 8:15, and he had to stay quite late for a much later flight. I later learned today that Harvey’s flight was delayed for hours because of the government shutdown and he didn’t get into his house until around 2 a.m. Sheesh!

Now back to the buffoon attending the annual wreath-laying ceremony at Arlington National Cemetery in honor of the fallen soldiers throughout the wars. An online Mirror article by Jack Hobbs entitled “Five topics Trump discussed in Veterans Day speech – from Joe Biden to B-2 bombers” discusses the true insanity behind Drumpf’s speech which is quite embarrassing as usual. Unable to even give a reasoned, typical speech about how this holiday is significant for all Americans, the idiot in chief veered away from the general topic and started discussing tangential topics that had no relevance to the event at hand. He discussed his predecessor Joe Biden, something about the B-2 bomber, and the renaming of the Department of Defense to War. In all, the madman’s speech lasted around 20 minutes, and I heard none of it on mainstream media.

It appeared that Drumpf veered off topic in the first three minutes of his speech. He spent much of his opening remarks bizarrely thanking members of his Cabinet, that one which is loaded with idiots like him. He also acknowledged pedophile Johnson who, according to him, “will go down as a great man someday.” Hmm, as a fascist maybe and Trump toady, but not a great man, in my opinion. The idiot in charge also called out Office of Management and Budget Director Russ Vought, the real author of the controversial Project 2025 plan. He kept on heaping praise on this clown for “cutting, cutting, and cutting.”

The asshole even proposed changing the name of Veterans Day to “Victory” Day which will be not loved by veterans anywhere. Drumpf also touted America’a current military strength. He praised “Beautiful B-2 bombers. Aren’t they beautiful now?” Any of this gobbledegook if mentioned by a Democratic president like Joe Biden would be denounced by everyone in the media, but since this is Donald J. Chump, we hear practically nothing.

In the meantime, as this sitting president was giving a cringeworthy speech on the occasion, a real president like former President Barack Obama surprised an entire planeload of veterans who were flying to Washington, D.C., to participate in Veterans Day marches today by offering heartfelt thanks for their contribution to American freedom and shaking each and every veteran’s hand as they deplaned. Could you see fat Dump doing the same? Of course not! He couldn’t shake any person’s hand since he’s such a germaphobe!

Have a great Wednesday.

And so it went!

Here are some pics from our Nashville trip! Hope you enjoy them. I’ll include just some today; I’ll print more tomorrow.

Here is downtown Nashville as we walked to it from our hotel.

The front of the Johnny Cash Museum that I visited on Saturday.

Here is a discography of the Man in Black.

This whole wall contained all of Cash’s list of LPs which was huge!

This is Tootsie’s world-famous lounge. I have to admit that both Elliot and Harvey found the music blaring out of these places so deafening that they didn’t even set foot in one of these venues. And I didn’t either!

These are boots and a silk shirt that Cash wore on occasion.

And So It Goes

Today is Sunday, August 17, 2025. Today Elliot and I ventured into Manhattan – even though I was a little apprehensive about riding the subway since my Friday night debacle on the E – for a day of culture by visiting the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on 82nd Street and 5th Avenue. Elliot particularly wanted to see an exhibit on chinoiserie that was closing today, while I was drawn to an exhibit on Black dandyism called Superfine: Tailoring Black Style, which is actually running until October 26. I was also intrigued by another exhibit called Casa Susanna which chronicles a community of cross-dressers who met regularly in New York City and the Catskill Mountains in the 1960s and onward. This exhibit runs through January 25, 2026, so you have time to see it.

Earlier, I went out for coffee at Pink Forest before leaving Forest Hills at around 11:15. To get into Upper Manhattan, we took the R train instead of the E and got off at 59th Street to transfer to the 6 where she got off at 86th Street. Before going to the museum, we had brunch at a new place on 83rd Street and 2nd Avenue called the Penrose Bar. The meal I had certainly tickled my palate since I had lemon ricotta pancakes that were so very tasty. Even the coffee was quite robust.

After brunch, we walked up to 5th Avenue and to the Met. I looked at my watch when we finally paid our guest rate (we donated each $10 instead of paying the suggested $30) and thus entered the hallowed halls of this world-famous institution. We asked someone at the information desk to guide us to the chinoiserie exhibit and we actually found the floor and the gallery it was located in without too much ado. The exhibit on the ground floor is specifically titled Monstrous Beauty: A Feminist Revision of Chinoiserie. The liner notes on it say the exhibit “radically imagines the story of European porcelain through a feminist lens.” So when porcelain arrived in early modern Europe from China, it led to the rise of chinoiserie, “a decorative style that encompassed Europe’s fantasies of the East and fixations on the exotic, along with new ideas about women, sexuality, and race.”

The exhibit supposedly features at least 200 historical and contemporary works spanning from 16th-century Europe to contemporary installations by Asian and Asian-American women artists.

For my book, the second exhibit we visited on the second floor, the one on Black dandyism, had the most crowds and was the best exhibition I’ve seen in a long time. In fact, I hope to return to it at least once more before it leaves. According to its liner notes, the exhibit “explores the importance of style to the formation of Black identities in the Atlantic diaspora, particularly in the United States and Europe.” Here there was an abundance of memorabilia such as photographs, paintings, garments and accessories, decorative arts, and even videos to help interpret the concept of dandyism as both an aesthetic and a strategy that allowed for new social and political possibilities. The exhibit is organized into 12 sections, which range over several rooms of stuff. I’m sure I didn’t cover all 12 sections since Elliot finished viewing it before I and I didn’t want to keep him waiting.

We finally left the Met at 4:40 p.m., just 20 minutes before actual closing time. I was ready for another cup of coffee so we stopped at a Joe & the Juice on Lexington Avenue for hot coffee and banana bread for me. Elliot just read a copy of The Wall Street Journal that was left by a departing customer.

Now we walked down to 77th Street to get the 6 downtown to 51st Street where we waited for the E to take us back to Forest Hills. This time there were no delays getting home.

In the meantime, the toddler in chief just finished his much-ballyhooed summit with war criminal Vladimir Putin in Alaska over the weekend that ended in what someone has called a “nothing burger.” An online article for MediaITE reports on this fucking unsuccessful meeting with the Russian aggressor entitled “Trump’s Red Carpet for Putin Ends in a Faceplant,” by Colby Hall.

Here this demagogue promised he would end the war in Ukraine – but so far he glaringly hasn’t in the long eight months he’s been in office. The article states, “Instead, he delivered a red carpet for Vladimir Putin – and little else.”

The much-hyped Alaska ‘peace summit’ ended not with a triumph but with a whimper.” Dump had to embarrassingly admit that “we didn’t get there,” which is a horrible admission of truth for this inveterate liar.

Fox “News” itself had to admit that Putin steamrolled over the fat golfer. They couldn’t put their imitable spin on this worthless meeting. Senior White House correspondent Jacqui Heinrich bluntly reported that Chump “got steamrolled by Putin” on Fox News.

Not that I saw a whit of this disgraceful display of fawning before Putin by Dump who was seen clapping enthusiastically for the Russian president as if he were a rock star and not a brutal murderer of women, children, and civilians in the Ukrainian war.

Here the assessment of what Putin got from this meeting on U.S. soil is brutal: “For Putin, the payoff was obvious. He stood shoulder to shoulder with an American president, was celebrated on U.S. soil, and gave nothing in return. For Trump, the cost is harder to quantify but potentially devastating. He has painted himself in a corner with his ‘peace on day one’ promise. Anything short of an actual cessation of hostilities looks like failure. And failure, dressed up with pomp and applause, is still failure.”

The world now saw a U.S. president who was outmaneuvered, outtalked, and definitely out of his depth. “Allies will wonder if America’s resolve is fading; adversaries will take note of how easily Putin extracted a victory.”

All in all, Friday was an enormously embarrassing day for America and it was all due to the buffoonish Demented Don. Thus the war drags on and Putin smirks. For his superfluous part, Dump is left clapping on the red carpet for a man who just walked all over him.

Do try to have a good week.

And so it went!

Here is one item in the chinoiserie exhibit.

Another remarkable piece in this exhibit.

Imagine having that in your possession. And someone certainly did!

This piece was situated outside in an area with other items.

These pieces reflect the “monstrous” nature of chinoiserie.

This is a very colorful, decorative vase depicting Chinese characters.

We are now in the Black dandyism exhibit which I enjoyed the most.

This is more of a contemporary look that is on display at this exhibit.

Not sure of the designers whose fare is on display here, but it’s still striking nevertheless.

These were actual letters written by celebrated author, historian, sociologist, and political activist W. E. B. Du Bois to Brooks Brothers in 1920.

Another striking outfit in this exhibit.

Here are some portraits of Black “dandies.”

This is from the last exhibit we saw: Casa Susanna. This is a copy of Transvestia, a magazine for cross-dressers from the 1960s.

This page is from the 1962 copy of Transvestia.

This is a picture of one of the cross-dressers who sought refuge in the resorts established by Susanna Valenti and her wife, Marie Tornell, in the Catskill Mountains. All of these snapshots were rediscovered at a Manhattan flea market in 2004 and they form the basis of this fascinating exhibit.

Another cover from this ground-breaking magazine.

Here is an open view of the “lego” building from Fifth Avenue.

And So It Goes

Today is Friday, July 18, 2025. Elliot and I have returned from spending less than 24 hours with my friend’s son, his wife and toddler daughter. But it seemed much longer because of our interaction with “Naomi,” “Zander” and “Nalah’s” whirlwind of a daughter. When we last saw her for her birthday on May 3, she wasn’t this verbal, but yesterday and today, she was as voluble as a wind-up doll. She was actually almost a little shy for her birthday, and that was just a few months ago.

We left Forest Hills yesterday around 9:30, had breakfast at Jackson Hole, and drove straight to Princeton. When we arrived a little after 1, we learned that Naomi was in day care and we had some time to ourselves before we had to pick her up. So after the usual greetings and hugs, we piled into our host’s white SUV and drove to the Dinky Bar & Kitchen, located nearby, in Princeton. We learn that this casual restaurant serving beer, cocktails, and small and large American plates served as a onetime train station. For lunch, we shared several small plates among us and everything was very tasty. After lunch, Zander and Nalah drove us to the Main Street in Princeton where we browsed the Princeton Record Exchange and the bookstore called Labyrinth Books. Actually, I walked into these places with Zander, while Elliot sat in a park with Nalah. It was quite hot then. First, we had to have some ice cream at the Bent Spoon.

We then picked up little Naomi at her day care center which was a private residence nearby. It was then time to decide on dinner. Instead of going out again or even ordering from somewhere, we ate Nalah’s food that consisted of rice, mashed potatoes, and fish. We found ourselves watching a film I’ve seen before and have forgotten much of it, 2005’s Red Eye starring the man of the hour, Cillian Murphy, and Rachel McAdams as two supposed strangers who meet on a red-eye flight from Texas to Miami, Florida. Lisa Reisert who is portrayed here by McAdams is a hotel manager at a luxurious hotel in Miami and Murphy is a mysterious charmer. Soon we learn that he has a sinister purpose in seeking her out as they first meet on line getting their tickets back to Florida. He soon informs her that he works for a terorrist organization which is planning to assassinate Charles Keefe, the current United States Deputy Secretary of Homeland Security. Lisa’s managerial responsibility at the Lux Hotel in Miami, where Keefe and his family are staying, is crucial to the plot. He also tells Lisa that an associate is outside her father’s house in Florida, who is here portrayed by Succession’s Brian Cox. If she does not carry out what he wants her to do concerning the Deputy Secretary, which is to call her hotel to tell her coworker, Cynthia, to move the Keefe family from their regular suite to another set of rooms, he will give the order to kill her father. The tension soon builds as McAdams has to find a way to fight this once-charming stranger and avert an impending catastrophe. There were some good fight scenes and moments of suspense in the film, I thought. However, Murphy does not come across that convincingly as an amoral terrorist. So the film loses something in his portrayal.

Anyway, it was a little over 11 and it was time to go to bed. I had little ability to read my new book, The Day of the Locust, by Nathanael West. I had read this book many years ago and just picked it up again. I still can’t find the book I have to read for my gay men’s reading club, so I just have abandoned the idea. I’ll read anything now.

I have no time to write about what happened today. Suffice it to say we left our genial hosts right after breakfast, had coffee in Grovers Mill, New Jersey, which is well known for its association with Orson Welles’ 1938 “War of the Worlds” radio broadcast. This amazing broadcast depicted a Martian invasion beginning in Grovers Mill which caused a widespread panic and hysteria among many of its listeners who took the program as the God’s truth. We had coffee in a shop that is themed around many iterations of “War of the Worlds.”

After this wonderful find, we drove back to our hosts for the day after I realized I left a charger for my phone and a bottle of water. Then we drove to Edison, New Jersey, to have lunch with my newish friend “Harvey.”

We spent a little time with Harvey in his ranch house (we met only two of his six cats) on a quiet residential street and then followed Harvey in his red sports car to a mall where we had lunch in a restaurant called Seasons.

Now we began the drive back to New York after saying goodbye to Harvey in Edison. It took almost two hours to get back to Forest Hills. I just hate the traffic you have everywhere these days.

Tomorrow we have another drive: this time going north, to Sullivan County, in Phillipsport, where we will stay over “Sue”s house until Sunday. Another sleepover!

Have a great weekend.

And so it went!

This was on the wall of that coffee shop in Grovers Mill.

A picture depicting the supposed Martian invasion at Grovers Mill.

More stuff on the wall.

And So It Goes

Today is Sunday, July 6, 2025. I wrote that I might not have written my blog today, but here I am! We were indeed very busy, having left Forest Hills at 12 today to get into Manhattan a little before 1 in order to have bagels and coffee at the newly renamed Murray’s Bagels on 8th Avenue and 18th Street. It is now called Zucker’s Bagels, and the interior looks the same as the old Murray’s Bagels, so when we got up to the cashier to pay for our food items, I asked about the change in name. The young woman behind the counter said the establishment is owned by the same people who ran Murray’s Bagels, but just changed the name.

Today we had tickets to see Pilobolus at the Joyce Theater at 2, so we walked in about 1:30. This is not our first time at the rodeo, as they say. We’ve discovered this incredibly athletic and lithe group of modern dancers quite a number of years ago at this venue. We even saw the late actor Paul Newman and his stalwart wife, Joanne Woodward, in the audience of a Pilobolus performance in 2006, I think. Soon after, Newman, sadly, was diagnosed with a virulent form of cancer and he died in 2008. So we’ve been attending dance performances of this one particular troupe for many years now.

Today’s program consisted of four performances: “Particle Zoo,” “Bloodlines,” “Flight,” and “Rushes.” Each of them were singularly amazing. The troupe consists of four hunky men and two women. The first segment of the show featured just the men shirtless and all wearing white pants and belts cavorting with each other and on the stage. I believe it was in this segment where one of the men fell out of the sky and was scooped up by his fellow dancers. The audience positively shrieked with delight when the dancer landed safely in the arms of his compatriots. The second segment, “Bloodlines,” featured just the two women in a pas de deux of simple elegance and sisterhood. The third segment, “Flight,” was appropriately named since it did somehow revolve around the majesty of flight, as the dancers revolved around the stage with what looked like paper airplanes. This piece was performed by only four of the principal dancers, while the last segment, “Rushes,” featured the entire cast. At the end of the one hour- and forty-minute performance, the troupe deservedly received a standing ovation.

From the Joyce Theater, Elliot and I walked in the sultry air to Hudson Street to have dinner at the Bus Stop Cafe. As we walked to the restaurant, we commented to one another how the landscape has changed in the West Village. So many businesses we recalled that once thrived there have now been replaced by gaudier, pricier establishments. New York, as you must know, is constantly changing; it’s definitely not static. If you mourn the loss of earlier well-known landmarks that have been razed to make way for sparkling new venues, you should read Vanishing New York by Jeremiah Moss. It was written some years ago, but now screams for a kind of update.

Anyway, dinner was quite good: Elliot ordered the chicken soup and the meat loaf entree, while I ordered the cream of mushroom soup and had the turkey dinner, replete with mashed potatoes, steamed spinach, and stuffing. Everything was quite tasty.

It is here Elliot and I parted: Elliot went home and I headed east, intending to visit a gay bar and to have coffee somewhere. I found myself on Bleecker Street having a cup of coffee at Rocco’s and having two vanilla sugar cookies.

Eventually I made my way to the Stonewall Inn, where I spent a whole ten minutes surveying the scene. It was about 7 or so and there weren’t many people inside the historic bar. I walked to the wall by the pool table which had a display involving the various kinds of LGBTQ+ flags that have been designed over the years. Did you know that there is a bisexual flag and an asexual flag? I didn’t know. I was just aware of the iconic Pride flag, designed in 1978, I believe.

I had no inclination to stay in Manhattan, so now I made my way back home. I think I got home close to 8 or so. I took the E on West 4th Street.

Now back to grim reality: One silver lining in that passage of Diaper Don’s “big, ugly bill” is this online article in RawStory by David McAfee entitled ‘Bad, bad, bad day’: GOP lawmakers panicky as Trump ‘threatens House majority.'” This article paints these cowardly repugnicans as now being fearful of what their blind obeisance to the Orange Cheeto can do to them in the midterms of 2026, as a piece in Politico today ponders the fate of the repugnicans in Congress who voted to cut health care programs by more than $1 trillion over the next two years. The outlet further quotes Senator Jim Justice (R-WVA) as saying, “You would be foolish not to worry about it . . . If you don’t keep the voters right with you, you’re going to awaken to a bad, bad, bad day.”

According to the report, “adding to the GOP angst,” is that “Democrats are preparing to weaponize the bill as they did Republicans’ failed efforts to repeal the Affordable Care Act in 2017.”

“That 2018 midterm election led to a GOP wipeout in the House, with the party losing 40 seats, including some districts in Trump-leaning territory,” according to the outlet. Thus “Democrats are planning to again hitch vulnerable Republicans to the cuts to social safety-net programs.” And well as they should!

One senator, Thom Tillis, already retired over his disagreements with parts of the repugnican spending bill.

In an ongoing story, at least 82 people have died in connection with the flash floods that have struck central Texas, according to officials. The terrible toll includes at least 28 children in Kerr County, where 10 girls and one counselor from Camp Mystic are still unaccounted for, authorities said.

Now I don’t know about you, but couldn’t this unnecessary death and destruction be possibly laid at the foot of this disgusting president who has taken a sledgehammer to agencies such as the National Weather Service (NWS) that oversee such disasters? Even though the NWS did issue a slew of alerts before the storm, questions still surround the agency’s staffing [Dump’s meddling!] and ability to reach residents at the time of the calamity. As I recall, one Democratic lawmaker has tied Dump to this Texas event and its tragic aftermath, but I can’t find the article in which his allegations are contained. I do know that comedian Rosie O’Donnell made the connection between Dump and the deaths experienced in central Texas, but she was slammed by despicable red hats on the internet. All they can do is scream at others who tell the truth but will never acknowledge the real truth about their Dear Leader! So far, so many families have been affected by this tragedy that it’s totally incomprehensible.

Anyway, try to have a good week.

And so it went!

Here is today’s playbill from the Piloblous show.

I think this is an article depicting the actual Stonewall Riots in 1969. The paper is the Daily News and the date is July 6, 1969.

Here is a proclamation from the New York City Council on the 85th birthday of Tree Sequoia, legendary bartender at the Stonewall Inn. It was hanging on the wall of the saloon. It’s quite a testimonial to this well-loved and tireless AIDS activist, who has been featured in many outlets like Time magazine, Bloomberg, Reuters, and other outlets.

This is just a lovely street on the way to 6th Avenue and the subway. I should have noted the actual street name, but I didn’t. Sorry!

And So It Goes

Today is Friday, April 11, 2025. Today is Day 82 or whatever of this horror show called the Dump shit show, but I found some reasons to have hope even though the situation seems so dire in this country right now. An online article for AlterNet provides that glimmer of hope in “The Trump horror show continues – but here are 12 reasons to have hope,” and it’s written by Robert Reich, former Labor Secretary under President Bill Clinton.

Reich first exults in the number of rallies that were held across all 50 states last weekend – drawing an estimated 3 million participants. Even red states like Alaska, Wyoming, South Dakota, and Kentucky drew angry protesters to town and city squares demonstrating against the current administration.

Here then are some reasons for having hope this week, according to Reich.

  • Trump’s wild retreat on tariffs.

As you know, this deluded leader thinks tariffs are the key to prosperity and said trade wars are easy to win. But on Wednesday, Dump decided to retreat from this losing strategy when investors shouted that it was not the right thing to do, as the market lost trillions in investments. “It was a large and embarrassing retreat.”

  • Trump can’t win a trade war with China because he’s cut off other suppliers. Duh.

After China retaliated against last week’s tariffs, imposing an 84 percent duty on all U.S. goods, Chump raised his duties on Chinese imports to a total of 145 percent!

But facing off against the world’s second-largest economy in a trade war requires alternative and reliable suppliers, which Chump has foolishly cut off.

  • Democrats see a surge of interest in running for office.

Spurred on by the horror of last week’s Signalgate affair and Elon Muskrat’s increasing stature as the nation’s most-hated billionaire, Democrats are gearing up to push deeper into red territory on the campaign trail next year.

Among the areas of interest showing a Democratic surge is an Iowa district now held by GOP Rep. Zach Nunn (which is certain to feel the ill effects of stupid Dump’s tariffs); two prospective bids in Pennsylvania and Michigan by candidates who lost or left jobs thanks to the Dump administration, giving them a powerful story on the campaign trail; a pair of former representatives considering comeback bids for battleground districts in the Rust Belt; and at least two districts in Virginia, held by GOP Reps. Rob Wittman and Jen Kiggans, that Dems believe are increasingly in play thanks to backlash against Muskrat’s government cost-cutting frenzy..

Meanwhile, former Rep. Wiley Nickel (D-NC) announced he’ll run for the Senate with plans to unseat vulnerable Senator Thom Tillis (R-NC) for not standing up to Herr Dump. Notably, Nickel’s launch video leads with an attack on Tillis’s capitulation to the Golden Leader for not voting against tariffs.

Mike Sacks became the fourth Democrat to jump into the race against Rep. Mike Lawler (R-NY). This lawyer and former TV reporter’s campaign pledge? To “unfuck the country!” A more blunt campaign pledge if I ever heard one.

  • Democrats are plotting a fresh round of town halls in GOP-held districts, to hammer Republicans.

As another fucking recess period begins for these worthless lawmakers, Democrats see another opportunity to strike against embattled Republicans for scaling back town halls and other open forums because of backlash from constituents who screamed bloody murder at these repugnicans for their unpopular positions.

  • Trump’s firing of Timothy Haugh at Laura Loomer’s urging causes widespread bipartisan concern.

This idiot known as Laura Boomer, who has captured the grazed ear of the illiterate president, the person who thinks 9/11 was an inside job, who has openly advocated at a white nationalist conference that she is a white advocate, has persuaded the dimwitted liar in chief to fire General Timothy Haugh, a four-star general who served as head of both the National Security Agency and U.S. Cyber Command.

Haugh’s termination shocked lawmakers on both sides of the aisle in which national security veterans described the unexpected action as a “chilling” one that would damage America’s cyber defenses and “roll out the red carpet” for attacks on critical networks by foreign adversaries. Don’t you think that Loomer herself is a dangerous presence in the president’s purview? What an asinine decision by an asinine man!

  • Trump’s poll numbers continue to drop.

Since Inauguration Day, a day that will live in infamy here, Dump has lost 29 points among voters aged 18 to 29, 14 points among 30 to 44, and 8 points among those 65 plus.

A Navigator poll (done between April 3 and April 7) shows Dump’s economic approval at its worst ever, with 58 percent of Americans holding an unfavorable view of tariffs, compared to only 30 percent favorable. Overall, Chump has a 44 percent approval rating versus 53 percent disapproval. I’m surprised it’s not at 80 or 90 percent!

Other factors for having a little hope in such dire times include the courts continuing to strike back at Dump and his unlawful decisions, the repugnican budget will cause mayhem, which contains huge unworthy tax cuts for big corporations and the uberwealthy, but also would need to cut social safety net programs like Social Security, Medicare, and Medicaid, which is political suicide for that party proposing it, Muskrat the bastard is disappearing after his fatal mistake in Wisconsin, and DOGE itself is sinking, where the Social Security Administration is walking back its DOGE-led widely unpopular phone service cuts and the unofficial governmental agency is being audited itself by the Government Accountability Office over its access to and use of sensitive government data.

Now that the repugnican party has been exposed as nothing more than a sounding board for the deranged king, Democrats must launch an intensive campaign to hit them on the failing economy and other unpopular actions taken within the last three months of Dump’s second term.

Tomorrow Elliot and I will drive to Cherry Hill to be included with my longterm chum “Harold” and his family to observe the beginning of Passover. I’ll be away until Monday, so let me wish everyone here a Happy Passover to all of those who celebrate it. In addition to intoning “Next year in Jerusalem” at the end of the Passover service, let’s also intone “Next year in 2026!” and hope some sanity is restored in this country.

Have a great weekend.

And so it went!

And So It Goes

Today is Sunday, March 16, 2025. Yes, I was away from this page yesterday and most of the reason had to do with Elliot and me traveling to 23rd Street to meet up with a California friend by the name of “Artak,” who was in the city over the weekend. He texted Elliot two days ago about spending time in the city and we indicated that we were free. So we met around 1:15 at a place called Maman on East 14th Street and promptly entered the eatery which was very crowded. We were told by the hostess that there would be a 30-minute wait, so we decided to exit the site and look elsewhere for a restaurant.

Walking around the block, we then entered the indoor Eataly plaza and walked through the many culinary experiences afforded the hungry New Yorker. We settled on a spanking-new restaurant in the rear called Il Pastaio di Eataly where we benefited from Restaurant Fest that was in effect this week. Many items were only $19.

Eschewing dessert at this restaurant, we decided to have dessert elsewhere. So we entered a nice, spacious Paris Baguette two blocks away. I had a croissant and herbal tea this time since I had coffee at the restaurant in the Eataly mall. The coffee was quite good this time, I must say.

At this time, we part ways with Artak who had other plans that day – which didn’t include us. He wanted to frequent a gay men’s club on the Upper East Side and then meet a friend later.

Elliot and I decided to go to a flea market on East 25th Street which we saw walking to the first location where we met Artak. There we separated to roam around the sellers’ booths hawking everything from aromas to zip-up jackets. Of course, I focused on old comics, old magazines like Look and Time, books, etc., while Elliot looked at other trinkets. We then united in less than a half hour and this is where I said goodbye to him.

From there, I walked down to 14th Street where I frequented the Strand Bookstore. I had some notion of seeing a film, possibly, at the Quad Cinema, on 13th Street. But there was nothing there to see. I spent some time inside the store and actually bought – egad! – another book: Brandon Taylor’s collection of short stories called Filthy Animals. It bore the stamp of “Strand value” on it, and it was priced at only $9.95. I would have spent more than that if I had decided to see a film by myself last night, so that’s how I justified buying it.

After the Strand, I entered the comic book store Forbidden Broadway, and looked at the new comics on the shelf. I saw a Superman book featuring his arch-enemy Lex Luthor who was played by the late Gene Hackman in the 1970s Superman movies starring Christopher Reeve that I don’t remember having in my current collection, so I bought it.

After leaving the comic book store, I walked to Hollywood Diner, located on 16th Street and 6th Avenue, right near the subway. Here I had a slight bite: a cup of chicken noodle soup and a tuna salad melt, with cheddar cheese.

Now it was time to return home. I ducked into the entrance near the diner and luckily waited a few minutes for a Queens-bound F train.

When I got home, I convinced Elliot to watch another Midsomer Murders episode. This is the reason why I didn’t write my blog last night since the episode was close to 2 hours, with all those commercials – even though I zapped through them.

The episode might have ended close to 11 and then I didn’t feel very well. I thought I was coming down with a cold all of a sudden, so I laid off from writing my daily journal yesterday. But now I feel much better; I currently believe I had a bad case of allergies.

Tomorrow we intend to meet Elliot’s first girlfriend “Deborah” in Brooklyn to see a film, Mickey 17, at the Cobble Hill Cinema and then have corn beef and cabbage in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. I’m not sure if I’ll make it here tomorrow either, so let’s just see.

And so it went!

And So It Goes

Today is Saturday, March 8, 2025. Well, I did have my group meeting today and there was no need to be nervous since only two people attended. Originally, I was expecting four, so two dropped out for whatever reason. Unfortunately, I had no one’s cell phone number in order to contact them if such an exigency developed. Thus I was on my own at Albert’s Bar on 41st Street.

To get to the designated rendezvous, I left the borough pretty early: around 1:15 or so. I took the E train to 53rd Street and Lexington Avenue and switched to the 6 local downtown train and got off at 42nd Street. I then walked down to 41st, but it was only a little past 1:30, so I ducked into a Le Pain Quotidien for coffee and a croissant. Even downing this repast, I was still early, so I began my search for the bar and found it very easily. It was right off Lexington Avenue. This time I walked to 3rd Avenue and slipped into a CVS where I picked up a bottle of water. I thought I packed everything that I needed for the meeting: notebooks, pens, markers, articles, name tags, etc., but I left bottled water at home.

Soon it was a quarter to 3; I determined it was time to walk to the site and enter and talk to someone about getting a quiet table or room. At that time, I had no idea how many members were really coming. I talked to a bearded chap who informed me that their separate room was already booked. So I just sat down at the circular bar and waited. I think that by 3, I recognized one attendee by his picture on the website. I was correct in assuming he was a member. Here “Stanley” walked through the revolving door and met me by the bar. I shook his hand and introduced myself. I actually put on a name tag before the appointed hour. I was still expecting three more people by then.

Stanley took a seat at the bar and we immediately conversed about the group. Within a half hour or so, we decided to take a booth since no one came through the door to attend the meeting. We were then given menus by the waitress and we told her we were still waiting for others. Checking my phone rather casually, I saw a text from “Paul” who came to my February meeting in Rego Park. He asked if we were still there, and I replied we sure were. He was just a block away and texted me that he was coming. Within a few minutes, I recognized him outside the restaurant, so I walked over to him by the entrance and took him back to the booth.

Thus began this very casual, informal meeting among three individuals. I told both gentlemen that I was going to start by reading the quote from a French senator who aptly captured the zeitgeist of our Dumpian age. I handed out the notebooks that I intended to give to the other attendees. I even distributed the article that I copied yesterday, with suggestions as to how to get more involved. However, the conversation was more casual befitting the number of people attending the meeting, which was fine with me. Eventually, we all ordered something off the menu; I ordered chicken pot pie and so did Stanley. I couldn’t really tell what Paul ordered. I did order coffee – what else?

By 5:15, we exhausted the trove of subjects to be discussed like linking up with other organizations, the things the Orange Blob was doing to wreak American democracy, what we expected to get out of the group, and we even discussed seeing comedy shows. I stated this is a great time to see any comedian because of what is going on right now in this country. Stanley provided some names of YouTube channels we might be interested in.

I discussed having another meeting, but this time in two weeks, on Saturday, March 29. I also asked that they provide feedback as to where we could meet if Albert’s Bar wasn’t deemed satisfactory by them. I must say I had a little trouble hearing both Stanley and Paul because of the large table of revelers in front of us making merry. So this location was definitely not a quiet nook in the restaurant.

That’s it, folks. I wish more people had attended, but Paul commented that what I was doing was all right. He didn’t criticize anything I was doing to get people into the organization. I considered this to be somewhat of a compliment, given his long history of activism. He said that this could take a little longer to get off the ground. I’m just wondering where the other 23 people were hiding. Well, as the old saying goes, “Rome wasn’t built in a day!”

I’m dreading the beginning of DST, which is tomorrow. So don’t forget to move your cocks , er, clocks, ahead, folks.

See you tomorrow – maybe. On the first day of DST, I’m not happy that we have to set the alarm in order to see Elliot’s daughters tomorrow morning since they’re visiting their mother on the Island. Don’t get me wrong, I do love seeing them, but did it have to be the day we lose an hour of sleep and have to get into a car so early? We’re supposed to meet them at 11. Because of that commitment, I will try to get to sleep a little earlier tonight. No more hitting the hay at 2:30 or later. At least not when we move the clocks.

And so it went!

And So It Goes

Today is Monday, February 10, 2025. It’s late here, owing to my attending my very first meeting of my so-called group called the “anti-Trump patriots,” with the subheading “Defenders of Democracy,” held at a local restaurant in Rego Park, Diner Bar. I scheduled this meeting at the behest of a member with the name of “Paul,” who suggested I arrange meetings later in the day to meet the needs of those interested parties who work. Thus I scheduled this meeting at 7 p.m. instead of in the height of the afternoon. What excuse did I have not to have the meeting at 7? The only thing I was involved with on this cold day was driving to a new breakfast place called Florence Prime Diner with our new car, the Subaru Forrester Sport. I surely regretted my decision to drive to this new site since I had to put the GPS on in the car and when I finally got to the diner, I unfortunately discovered there were no parking spots. I should have called ahead to ask if there was a parking lot next to the diner. I didn’t.

Elliot and I separated early in the day, as he went to see a new foreign film called Rose at the Kew Gardens Cinema, while I went on a wild goose chase, as they say, for this new diner. After I passed the place in Elmhurst, I drove back to Forest Hills and stopped at a Rego Park coffee shop located in my former neighborhood. It was close to 12 when I was able to sip my first cup of coffee.

For the meeting later, I took the subway to 63rd Street in Rego Park and walked to Diner Bar. I believe I got there around 6:30, so I sat inside for close to an hour or so, before I met Paul who did text me that he was indeed coming. I was going to wait until about 8 before calling it quits. I met him around 7:40 when he texted me that he was sitting at the bar.

When I walked to the bar area, I saw a dark-complexioned, youngish man with a gray woolen hat having a drink. I extended my hand in greeting and I introduced myself as the organizer of this new group. I offered him the booth where I was sitting drinking cup after cup of coffee and partaking in onion rings as a side dish.

We immediately connected and we engaged in a lively discussion of the sorry state of affairs under the Orange Turd. One thing we both agreed on was that this sitting president truly represented an existential threat to the preservation of democracy and that ordinary Americans better get off their asses and stop scrolling on their fucking iPhones to launch the resistance against this lawless avatar of awfulness before it’s too late. Germany fell to Nazi rule in just 53 days, I’ve learned. It could happen here in even less time, given what Chump is doing right now in only three weeks. Paul impressed me with his knowledge of current affairs and his ties to many friends who expressed interest in my little group. He gave me hope that the group could finally pick up steam. Paul did suggest that I hold meetings not only during the week but on weekends, preferably on a Sunday. I did not rule that out considering I have all the time in the world. Manhattan was also suggested as the venue for the group since many of his friends hail from that borough. I didn’t rule this out either. I said I could definitely consider Manhattan as the venue to hold group meetings there. Another suggestion that Paul offered was to rename the group – he suggested something simple, not the “anti-Trump patriots” or “Defenders of Democracy,” which is what it is also called. The second name conjures up something of a far-right nature, not what it is supposed to represent, so I agreed with him.

We spoke animately until 9:15 or so, until I noted the late hour, and said it was time to call it a night. He said he lived in Harlem, which is about an hour away, and mentioned he might have to take three trains home. To me, this alone tells me he’s committed to this organization. Look how far he came to a meeting dedicated to commiserating about the results of the election. At the end of the evening, I left the restaurant with some hope that the group could take off when we come back from Argentina at the end of February. So let’s see what could be afoot in March.

And so it went!