BLINDED BY THE LACK OF LIGHT

What I don't understand about the racial climate in America today might take volumes to fill. What I don't understand about ethnicity and religious bigotry would be even larger. Samples of each. Again with no answers. If Shell had the Answer Man, then you have the Question Man with me.

Why do we celebrate Black History month? And why is it not called African American History month? Who started it? Why is there no White American History month? No Hispanic History month?

Why is there a Miss Black beauty pageant but not a Miss White or Miss Hispanic? Miss Asian?

Aren't we all Americans? I'm not an Irish/English American as my name would suggest. Go further back and throw in some German and a sprinkle of Native American, but I'm still an American. Not that we shouldn't be proud of our heritage, whatever it is, but let's celebrate our country. Let's end the African-American description. I've seen lots of Whites in Africa. What are they to be called when immigrating here? White African Americans?

The same with religion. How did a country founded on religious principles come to criticize religion and form organizations for freedom from religion? How did we allow our country to make fun of religion in movies and television? To openly put down anyone with traditional American values, yet embrace anything from any other culture as being superior to our own?

Well, I'm befuddled. But that's not new. I've been that way since the Clinton years. Long years if memory serves.

MY SURFBOARD

Oh, I'd have one. If I were forty years younger. If I lived near a beach.

I wouldn't have to surf or take lessons. I wouldn't bother with a wet suit. But I'd have a board.

Just to carry. Just to park on the beach by my towel. Just to look the part.

Movie makers have long been convinced that actors and actresses (yes, I'm old school: I still distinguish) look good smoking cigarettes. It gives them something to do with their hands. It allows reflective pauses. It provides an opportunity to contemplate.

To me, that's what a surfboard does. It provides an opportunity. To look cool. To look risky. Athletic. Brave. Daring.

Oh, once in awhile you'd have to take it into the ocean. But somehow that perfect wave would never come. So back to the beach with your wet board, wet swim trunks, wet hair. And you'd just wait.

Hey, if nobody would come along, you'd still be cool. You'd leave the beach carrying your board. People would see you. And think you were The Duke himself.

CAN WE ALL JUST GET A GRIP?

Some state senator from New York by the name of Eric Adams holds a copy of yesterday's New York Post. His problem: racial stereotyping.

The Post printed a cartoon of a policeman gunning down a violent chimpanzee. Based on the story in the national news about a Connecticut chimp attacking a friend of its owner.

But, no, Adams claims it's comparing Mr. Obama to a chimp. The Blacks as monkeys racial comparison. And he's appalled.

So am I. What difference does color make today? Isn't our President part White/part Black? Didn't a whole heckuva lot of Whites vote for him? Plus, the only reference to race in the whole campaign was brought up by Mr. Obama when he said he didn't look like the Presidents on US currency.

Let's get over it. Yes, the way that Blacks and Native Americans were treated in our country was wrong But a lot of other minorities were treated badly, too. Just check out how some Irish or Italians were persecuted. But that wasn't any of us that did the disservices to them or the Blacks or the Native Americans. Let's move on.

I'm not even going to banter about how voting for Mr. Obama just because he is Black is any worse than voting for John McCain because he isn't . If you want to wail about racism, it works both ways

Maybe I'm over-reacting. I do that, you know. But Senator Adams might have missed the boat. You see, the caption stated "next time they'll have to find someone else to write the stimulus bill." To me, the article was criticizing, as satire does, the Democrats who penned the legislation. Not the signer of the bill, the President.

But overall, I'd have to say it was a pretty stupid political cartoon. Besides, I think monkeys are smarter than thinking they can spend their way out of debt.

Yet as an Arizona Republic writer illustrated, this whole idea of bail outs in any form reverses Kennedy's "Ask what you can do for your country" mantra. It's now "ask what your country can do for you."

MY GAME--ONE RULE


Ok. Here it is. I'm going to suggest every car in America be allowed one megaphone/bull horn. For a one time use. That's it.


You are allowed a one time mega-yell at a driver near you.






So what's it gonna be? What are you going to say? Stumped? How about one of these?





At the end of the column, I'll tell you how I'm using mine. You know, just in case I use it against you.



"Go! What are you waiting for?"

"It's not gonna get any greener."

"Nobody's that stupid."

"That's it: change lanes. You're the only one on the road."

"What's up with that?"

"Use your turn signals, fool. It's not that hard."

I could go on ad infinitum. My megaphone would be used on the last one. It drives me crazy to see someone not use their turn signals. Also, if you're on a cell and you don't use your signals; watch out. I'm blasting you. Plus, if you're on your cell and you signal, I still won't let you cut in front of me. Signal with no cell, you're home free. I'll even hold up a line of traffic to let you go in front.

Man, I feel better now. If only could get that megaphone option passed in the legislature.

DO PRAGUE

There are so many things to like about cruises. But one that isn't good is missing out on a city's nightlife.

I don't exactly know why I'm saying that. Not any more than I get out after dark, I'm missing my own city's night life. But it seems when you're cruising, most nights are spent sailing to the next port of call.

One of the more enjoyable nights we have spent out of the country was in Prague in 1995. A beautiful old European city that lights up its cathedrals and old structures at night that lend an almost surreal, at least an eerie quality to the night. Add the Charles Bridge, and you have European old world .

Restoring old buildings, Prague has it all together. The people are eager to please and make visitors want to return. I know I do.

If you want charm. If you want to take a step back in time. If you want old world entertainment. Check out the Czech Republic. But don't forget the night life.

SIMPLY AN OXYMORON

Graffiti artist, that is. What is art worthy about graffiti?

Give me the wall any day. Any bare wall. What's worse is it's all over the world.

I guess it doesn't take much to buy some spray paint and go to destruct. And if one wants to be a delinquent, then there's the opportunity. Just go slap some paint on a wall.

But, please don't call it art.

In the dictionary, the word graft is listed right after graffiti. Graft as in the abuse of one's position. That's more fitting to me. Yeah, that works: a graft artist. On second thought, it still doesn't fit. Oh, it's a kind of graft all right. It's just that it's still not art. More like scratchings or debasing. Marring. Gomming. Ruining.

If you get the idea that I can't stand graffiti, you're right. The only good graffiti was the old movie, American Graffiti. And they couldn't even make a good sequel.

THE DAVE CLARK FIVE AND A MEAL

I never thought the Beatles' contemporaries got their due. At least for the 60's song, Because. It is a great love song, but somehow didn't measure up in popularity. I'm not high tech gifted enough to provide a You Tube link, but you should check it out.

So with this Valentine's Day in the past. I thought it was safe now to blog about your perfect V-Day meal. Also, it's a test to see if I can salivate over my coffee at 4:53 AM as I'm writing about a big meal.

So here it goes--my Valentine's special meal.

Warm homemade bread with light butter. Good bread doesn't need much butter. Bad bread needs less. Smothering butter won't disguise the mundane taste.

Roasted garlic. And some virgin olive oil (am I a boomer? I almost spelled it oyl) with a drop or two of black stuff added. (balsamic vinaigrette, I think)

A Caesar salad with anchovies. Not too many. Light sauce, too.

A baked potato with light butter, light salt, light pepper.

Fresh asparagus stalks. Not too thin nor too thick. If you get a lot of them, then just eat the tips.

Of course, a steak. Medium. Add garlic salt. No rub, no marination, certainly no sauce of any kind. A well cooked steak needs none of that Bearinese crap on it. Like the butter, it doesn't work on good or bad meat. And don't buy into the chef's special sauce. Have them bring it on the side (I mean you don't want to tick off the chef or cooks who might just decide to throw your steak on the floor before [or after] cooking) but don't touch it.

And for dessert: baked Alaska. It's comparatively light. It barely edged out creme brulle.

To drink--just bottled water or iced tea. If you want to spice it up with wine or beer, that's up to you. But I've given you plenty to gnaw on, so you don't want to fill your belly with anything that takes up much needed space.

That's it. I didn't salivate once. But I probably added some weight to my frame by just expounding on such delicacy.