An Open Letter to the Association of Ass Lickers

I think I've mentioned several times that I was unemployed and grateful, especially when I was able to watch every game of the World Cup.

The circumstances, however, I kept to myself.

Well, tonight, that's over.

I left a job because I was forced out of it. A new administrator was hired to do the ass licking bidding of owners who are only interested in making money for themselves.

Four years ago, when I was hired, the place was a fun place to work and my best friend was there. Shortly after, my friend was promoted Assistant Director of Nursing. Within a month, she lost the position because she didn't fit into the "blonde and blonder" group, this dump's version of an upper echelon.

She was sent back to the floors as a nurse manager, clearly a demotion, and there were weekends when she was the only RN on duty during her shift.

I tried to cheer her on and say that it was only temporary but I really knew better. Last March, she died and a part of me went with her but not far enough from the dump.

I stayed because I needed the money like everyone else. Meantime, a new administrator was hired and I can admit that I never had a "read" on her. She pretended to hate the owners but talked against them every time they came. Yet she did their bidding.

One can only imagine the salary of an ass licker, but a duplicitous ass licker!!!!!

Those of us who are older (and I only admit that in age) knew that the handwriting was on the wall.

However, younger people were fired first because they were making "too much money" or had been there a long time.

Like Phil Ochs, "when I've got something to say, I'm going to say it now".

I did not do the ass licker's bidding and soon realized with all the work being heaped upon me (and it was stupid work, stupid assignments) that my time had come. Some would say, "Let them fire you so you can collect unemployment".

I have always believed in saving myself because you see no one will save you if you don't make the first move.

Tonight, I heard from a friend, a friend I have to admit, that I knew the ass licker would fire. She is a beloved woman, loved by everyone who ever worked with her, unless you're an ass licker.

Her time to leave has come and, probably, been decided upon months ago.

The best part was that she was asked to come in next week and help the new hire. She said "No".

The second best part was that she was asked if she wanted to come back next week so the staff could give her a farewell party.

Ass Licker, this isn't a farewell.
You fired her.

What are you smoking or has all that blonde bleach gone into any brain that you might have had?

All businesses have the right to terminate any employees who do not fulfill their obligations. They also have the right to terminate their employees when they can no longer afford to keep them or their businesses viable.

However, to fire people whose loss destroys the morale of the business working place is not good business.

I don't regret one moment of my decision. After all, I got to watch every game of the World Cup.

I do regret not seeing the people that I cared for and respected for a period of 4 years.

That last statement does not apply to ass lickers.

The Bible says, "This, too, shall pass".

Shakespeare has Hamlet say, "Every dog shall have his day".

And, then, there's Karma.

However, there is something the ass licker might consider especially when she sneaks out early because she fired a beloved employee.

Your owners, and they own you, will find someone to lick their posteriors (and they are massive) and that person will have a longer tongue and do it better than you. And when they find that someone, she will work cheaper than you.

My only question to you, then, will be did the flavor hold up and was it worth it?

Musings on Andrei and Power and Glory

Welcome to all.

It's been so hot that I feel like I'm in the Twilight Zone episode where the world is ending and everyone is cold - but it's really bloody sweltering heat!

If Dante's Inferno really exists, we're already in it.

On to new adventures and, hopefully, an end to this infernal humidity.

On Thursday evening, July 22, 2010, my first show of Power and Glory will debut on area24radio.com from 7PM to 9PM. Once you get to the website, just press in the center and it will take you to the show that is currently playing.

Power and Glory will be a little bit of everything: storytelling, stories that you were never told or taught, music, fun and guests.

The first show is a tribute to Russian poet, Andrei Voznesensky, whose passing was announced on June 1, 2010. My guest for our premiere show is poet Kenneth Pearson.

The sixties and seventies didn't just happen. It was as if everywhere in the world we were all awakening from the nightmare that had been World War II.

Krushchev had announced that Stalin was nothing but a bloody murderer. In the U.S.,we had just passed from the oldest elected president (Dwight Eisenhower) to the youngest elected president (JFK). The tragedy of the assassination pierced us all.

And people of all ages were realizing that our society was not exactly perfect and the War in Vietnam globalized protests against all forms of war everywhere.

I don't believe in nostalgia. I don't believe in glorifying the past. In fact, Andrei entitled one of his books of poetry, Nostalgia for the Present. I like that but the sixties and seventies had traits of a Renaissance when it came to Music, Literature and, certainly, movies.

The Russian people have poetry in their blood and young poets filled arenas like rock stars and they had a lot to say. One of Andrei's poems has the following lines:

Life is a series of burned-out sites.
Nobody escapes the bonfire:
If you live - you burn.

We all felt a lot like that - we were all on fire for whatever cause we supported.
We were young and we were going to change the world.

After all these years, I really don't know what we changed. The capitalistic materialism we allegedly renounced is smothering us all. The U.S. isn't fighting one war: it's fighting two and in certain areas of the country, we are more apart than we have ever been.

And Sony and the Jackson Family sell the songs of the Beatles to anyone who pays them the right price.

But the one thing that remains is the art that we loved and cherished. What remains is what it meant to us.

The one thing that always remains is art, literature, music and our own twentieth century art form: the movies.

There are certain people, always artists, who although we have never met them belong to us. I met Andrei Voznesensky for a brief moment and the autograph he gave me is fading away. His words, however, will never fade away.

And so to all artists out there and all of us who love them, I wish you a glorious goodnight.

Or as Andrei wrote in OZA:

I know that people consist of atoms and particles, just as rainbows consist of shining specks of dust, or as sentences consist of letters. You only have to change the order and your meaning changes.

For me, Maria, it's time to change those shining specks of dust again.
It's time to go in search of new rainbows.

Thoughts on the End of the World Cup

The World Cup has ended and I am disappointed because the best team did not win.

Uruguay and Diego Forlan and his great team deserved the victory. He was awarded The Player of the World Cup Award and, of course, he said that he would not have received it without the entire support of his team. I said it before: the man's a class act.

Viva Uruguay!

As for Spain, my second wish came true in that I hoped that if Italy could not win, then a country that had never won the Cup should win it this time in the continent of "Firsts", Mother Africa.

However, a few truths have to be recognized.

Spain didn't exactly get off to a brilliant start. They were beaten by the Swiss in their first attempt. And, Honduras and Chile were no match for Spain.

They beat Portugal 1-0 and then, Paraguay, who put up quite a fight, by 1-0. The only major team they faced in the entire tournament was Germany and I, frankly, am surprised that they won.

Spain never played Brazil or Argentina or Uruguay. I believe that had they faced any of the latter, they would have been eliminated.

South American soccer is so right-on; European soccer, which is purely defensive, is so boring.

The Uruguay-Germany match was far more exciting than Spain vs. the Netherlands.

Incidentally, who was that Dutch team who took the field on Sunday? A bunch of thugs?

I didn't know that soccer is played by hitting a member of the opposite team in the chest with your foot. Many more red cards should have been given to the Dutch and had the English referee done it from the onset, the game would have been better.

Of course, I watched Univision for the first part of the closing ceremonies and saw Nelson Mandela and his wife in the little golf cart. Mandela's grandson said that the great one was badgered and badgered by FIFA to make an appearance. And he did although he was still in mourning.

Shame on FIFA but when you are as corrupt as FIFA, shame is not in your lexicon.

We watched the game on Channel 7 and had a telephone conference with our friend Paul in Connecticut throughout the whole match. That was fun.

When 4:30 came, however, Channel 7 had to transmit Nascar Angels so I switched back to Univision and saw the players get their medals and the fireworks.

Incidentally, did you catch the manager of the Dutch team after he got his second place medal? He ripped it off his neck and stuffed it into his pocket.

That's the way to act, man! Perhaps, if you hadn't told your team to win by any means, the Netherlands might have won. Most of the time, I thought I was watching a high school wrestling tournament instead of a World Cup game.

My last thoughts on what was accomplished in South Africa:
1.) The unemployment rate is still 25%-30% and so is Spain's.
2.) Millions, if not billions, were spent to build unnecessary stadiums in the shadows of slums.
3.) Regular street merchants with their food and craft stands were placed one kilometer away from all the stadiums. You know who took their places? Coca Cola, McDonalds, etc. Like they need the money! Did you catch all the ads surrounding the playing fields? The changing of colors, the shine and sparkle? That costs a bloody fortune. I wonder how many schools and hospitals and affordable housing could have been made for the poor with those expenditures. Do I really need to see another VISA ad?
4.) The best game of the match was Uruguay vs. Ghana and I hate to tell the Ghana fans but any player would have done what Suarez did by using his hand to offset the goal.
5.) Booing Suarez was stupid and petty.
6.) My friend, the poet, Kenneth Pearson called it for the Netherlands. His dad, also Ken, called it for Spain at 1-0. Congratulations, Dad!
7.) I want to get my hands on that octopus and see if he can predict the lotto numbers for me.

All in all, it was fun and I honor the memory of my father who took me to my first games when I was a teenager and fell in love with the sport and the camaraderie in the stands. We used to go to Randall's Island and is was like being with family.

I never dreamed in my life that I would see every game of a World Cup and so I have to thank my unemployment, ESPN, Univision and Channel 7.

Incidentally, the best commercial of the World Cup belongs to Geico who showed that even a chess match can be exciting if Andres is reporting it and yelling out "GOAL".

May we all be better off in 2014 in Brazil and may this begin today.

Peace and Love and Viva Uruguay and Diego Forlan.

The Octopus is Paul

Happy Birthday to Ringo Starr, even if I am one day late.

Peace and Love to All.

Anyone of my generation has a Beatles' Story and, of course, I'm no exception.

When I was 18, my father took me to Italy to introduce me to his homeland and to his friends and relatives. Pop was born in Sampierdarena which is part of Genova.

I do recall the happy times meeting all the strangers, some of whom, looked like me or rather, I looked like them. It was great to see one's own face and to feel part of a people and a country.

Having grown up in the America of Madmen, that is, the blondes like Grace Kelly and Marilyn Monroe, I never did really feel as if I fit in anywhere. Italy, however, was home and my father was a different person there, rediscovering what he had left behind. Perhaps, I felt that, too, but there were times when he was still the same old crank. At 18, I could not understand what he had also lost.

There were ten years between my father and his brother, my uncle, Zio Andrea. My grandmother had lost 5 children between them. My father was drafted when my uncle was just 13 and he did not see him again until 1960. I wasn't on that trip but I guess, now, they were brothers in name only and that's not an insult to either of them.

War had separated them and it separated them forever.

There was tension between them and I couldn't wait to leave Genova and return to Rome where my father's friends were. The Rosetti's are a great family and to this day Sandra and Roberto and I are still friends, as close as brother and sister. In fact, I sent Roberto his first Bob Dylan record when Dylan was unknown in Italy, but that's another story.

Back to dying to leave Genova: we were all set to go and the Beatles came to town. My uncle, was a journalist and he knew, not my father, that an 18 year old would give her wisdom teeth (if she had any) to see the Beatles. He got tickets for me and my cousins and the trip to Rome was postponed for a few days.

I still remember that Saturday night. The theatre was small and there were no girls crying, screaming or pulling out their hair. You could actually hear the Beatles and their songs. Paul learned a few Italian words and everyone was shouting and thrilled each time he spoke.

My cousins were so happy and we were on our feet the entire time. They kept hugging me because they knew they never would have seen the Beatles if I had not wanted to stay and begged my uncle to intercede. I had a family at last.

I retain my ticket that says Beatles: Genova and my souvenir program and an Italian LP of the Beatles. The feeling, however, of being part of a family is still with me in memory only.

The last time I saw my cousins they were now married with adult children of their own. The first words to escape their lips was "Do you remember when we saw the Beatles?"

I always will.

I shall also always remember the father who took me to his homeland and the uncle who, for one moment in time, made his 18 year old niece's dream come true.

Happy Birthday, Ringo!

Many, many more - making music.

Incidentally, the psychic octopus of the World Cup has a name.

The octopus is Paul.

World Cup, Ken and the German Octopus

Now that I've seen every qualifying game, quarterfinal and semifinal, we're ready for the big games on Saturday and Sunday: Uruguay vs. Germany and Spain vs. the Netherlands.

I should have listened from the getgo to my friend and favorite poet, Kenny Pearson, who told me that the final was going to be Spain vs. the Netherlands. I might have even won my nephew's office pool except that I'm still not certain of the final outcome: Spain? The Netherlands?

Well, I did get one of my wishes anyway. I hoped that if Italy or Argentina could not win, then a nation that had never claimed the Cup would be the winner. We have that now. Can you imagine how exciting it is right now to be in Spain or the Netherlands? The parties have already started.

And we have the World Cup being staged in Mother Africa which is a first. And we have the outcome of Spain and the Netherlands: another first!

However, I do have to say a word about Diego Forlan and Uruguay. I knew nothing about him or the team but every game that Uruguay played, especially the last one with Ghana, was fabulous.
Diego Forlan is a class act and so is Uruguay. Good Luck on Saturday, guys!

As for today's game, my favorite part preceded the game. One of the ESPN commentators (and they even had a clip of it) told the story of the German octopus. It seems that there is this huge octopus in some store or restaurant in Germany and they placed two boxes with clams in the cage with it before each match that Germany played.

One box had the German flag while the other had their opponent of the day's flag. Well, each game that octopus picked the winner. And, today, before the game, the octopus chose Spain.

The octopus got it right. If only I had that octopus for my nephew's office pool.

As for soccer, "the beautiful game", every four years it unites the world (except for one nation). Years ago, a British historian wrote that the nations of Europe no longer need to go to war with each other: they have soccer and they can battle it out on the football fields and at the World Cup.

Wouldn't that be great for everyone?

We could set up giant screens in piazzas everywhere and miss work, just like they've been doing all over the world to support our team. Maybe, we could spend billions on our people and not on wars. This is and would be Nationalism at its best.

On the local level, however, we have a journalist who writes for the local paper who was bored by the games and the World Cup. He had lists and lists and lists of what he didn't like. However, he forgot to list the two key elements that make soccer unpalatable for the United States.

It's a World Game. The whole world plays it, number one, and we don't play well with others. We don't know how to play the game and if we can't play the game, then, we can't win. And that's all the U.S. is ever interested in accomplishing, number two, winning, that is.

Now, I believe that each of us has the right to his or her opinion, even this local scribbler. However, to denigrate something because you do not understand it or do not like it is not exactly the highest form of intelligence. As Wiley Miller wrote in "Non Sequitur", "Stupid is a condition. Ignorance is a choice".

With all the horror going on, it's just wonderful to able to forget one's surroundings and problems of the day, even if it's just for 90 minutes.

Now, this brings me back to our American Soccer Team. One iota of advice: the game is played for 90 minutes and consists of two 45 minute sessions. You cannot expect to win if you only play the second half. Next time, try playing the entire game.

On the personal level, I send all my love and good thoughts to my friend, Paul. Last Thursday, his mother died and although she's passed from this world, she will always be a part of him and his life.

Love never dies, after all.

And on that note, I wish everyone a good night.

These past few days have been as hot as the proverbial Hades.

So turn off the corporate news and the lying infotainers who make millions a week by spreading hate and turn on Seinfeld reruns and laugh. If you're a murder mystery fan, that's okay, too.

If you have someone you love near you, cherish them.

If someone is not with you, think of that person and remember the good things.

Have an Italian Ice and fall asleep watching the television reruns.

Tomorrow, we will be just two days away from the big games and the end of the work week.

That thought alone should get us through the night.

And one more thing, Happy Birthday, Ringo Starr!

You were part of my youth and still part of my life. I love you, Ringo.