Ever wonder about Homeland “SECURITY”  How could you miss eleven million people and call it



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The Tire


I don’t own a car.  I walk or ride a bicycle everywhere I go. If I need to go into the city I take a train.  If I need to go across country I take a plane.  When I occasionally have need for a car I borrow my daughters.  It’s a band new bright, shiny Mercedes.  It’s got all the bells and whistle’s rich people like.

About a week before Christmas I borrowed the car.  I was riding along minding my own business when a display panel appeared on the dash.  It showed the tire pressure in all four tires.  The driver’s side rear was in red.  The other three tires showed a pressure of 38 psi.

The low tire was reading 29 psi.  I made a stop.  When I got back in it had drop to 26 psi in a matter of an hour……so….I did the logical thing, I stopped and put air in it…..for now.

The next day my daughter came from the city.  When the low tire display came on again I told her to stop and put some air in until she could get it repaired.  It was the day before Christmas.

We stopped and I put some air in it.  She was driving.  We were near where I lived.  Recently the city had re-configured the street in front.  they added what are known as “bump outs” designed to funnel traffic.

My daughter hit one.  It worked.  She got bumped out.  When we arrived at her place I looked at the tire.  It had a significant bulge on the tire wall.  Could blow any minute.  Definitely not safe, especially since I was suppose to take them all the way to La Guardia airport from Asbury Park, N.J. the day after Christmas.  I suggested it be changed to be on the safe side.  son-in-law agreed.

Christmas day was ice-cold.  I thought waiting till it warmed up in the afternoon would be the prudent move.  It was son-in-laws car so he should change it if not at least help.

I looked at him.  He was on the couch with a blanket wrapped around him, deeply absorbed in his ipad. He looked very comfortable.  I thought to myself, the last thing in the world he wants to do right now is go out and fix that tire.

It was Christmas so I decided to do it my self even tho I was leaning on my 70th year.

I went outside.  II t was very cold, but the sun was shining.  I located the spare tire, what is known as a donut.  Never been used.  It needed a separate set of lug nuts which were still encased in plastic.  So pretty.

Anyway I cracked the nuts, jacked it up with the scissor jack, popped the tire off, put the donut on, lowered it and threw the bad tire in the back, all inside of a half hour.

Driving to the airport the next day I discovered that son-in-law who was in his forties had “NEVER” changed a tire in his life. I had  inadvertently preserved his record.

I turned the car over to his brother, who I assumed would tend to replacing the tire.  Three weeks later my daughter returned with the car.  The donut was still on.  I asked her about it.  She said she didn’t know why it had not been changed. I told her I would take care of it.

That was on a Saturday.  The next day was Sunday.  Monday was Martin Luther King’s Birthday.  Would the Mercedes dealer observe it and be closed when I got there.  Didn’t know so decided not to go.

Tuesday it snowed.  If I had to make it I could….but !!  That car is designed to firmly hold the road.  The tires were wide and flat.  Except for the donut which was smaller and round. Which could potentially alter the equation.  A recipe for disaster.  Discretion being the better part of valor I decided to wait. 

Wednesday the streets had not been cleared.  I passed again.  Thursday I decided to give it a try. Before doing it I picked up my friend for coffee.  He had gotten use to the convenience of the car and had a couple of errands he wanted to accomplish.  I couldn’t do that and get to the dealership on time.

I didn’t expect my daughter till the weekend so to help him I decided to do it Friday.  My daughter had told me to have the dealership call her for a credit card number to pay for it.  To alert her I called before leaving.  No answer.  Left a message.

When I got to the dealership they were just about to go home and my daughter did not answer the phone.  The service rep took the pertinent information.  I told him I’d be back Monday.

When I talked to my daughter on Saturday she complained that I was slow.  The other guy had it three weeks and didn’t accomplish it.  I was under a week and she was complaining.

The next day was Sunday.  Monday I took it in.  An hour and four hundred and seven dollars later it was fixed, one month to the day it had been changed.

Tuesday I used it.  Wednesday I gave it to son-in-laws brother.






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Aug 16, 2013


  Was a Tues.  I had a 1:30 pm appt @ the Tinton Falls V.A. I got up early, round 8.  I headed 4 the Bradley Beach Food bank.  On impulse I felt like some morning wine.  So I stopped @ the liquor store for a bottle of red.  Fox Horn  Merlot.  It has a twist off top.  Don’t gotta’ carry a cork screw round and be poppin’ a top.


The Indian guy who runs the place calls me Baboo.  That’s what I call him.  I took my bottle of red back to the car.  Twisted off the twist off and took a couple of healthy tugs.  Then went and picked up some food @ the food bank.


Went back to my room and laid down with the bottle.  I thought I might pick up a little bit of weed on the way home.  Close the door and mellow out.


I was a little early 4 the V.A. so I went to the art supply store and bought some charcoal pencils.  2  #4b’s and 2 6b’s. 


I arrived @ the V.A. clinic in the Atrium, 55 Gilbert, Tinton Falls, N.J.  I checked in with the seal @ the desk and waited 2b called.  Wasn’t long.  Got weighed in by the nurse in a zebra outfit with matching shoes.  Took my vitals then took me down the hall to the Indian pill pusher.


I must digress.  This story gets so funny.  I’ll try to tell it the way it happened, then make comments about a different point of view


She is a small woman. We went over my blood work.  Glucose level needs attention.  Do I drink?  Yes, red wine.  Do I smoke?  Yes, marijuana.  I shouldn’t.  Why not?  I asked her if she ever smoked pot? No.  Then how do you know it’s not good 4 U?


Next question;  RU depressed?  Sometimes.  Do you think of suicide.  Yes.  Do you want to talk 2A councilor on a screen?  o.k. She jumps up and runs out of the room (and runs down the hall to snitch to mama.  Mama  (another nurse, probably in charge) is a large woman who reminded me of a German hause frau.)


I’m escorted 2 another room and sat in  front of a computer screen.  It’s an empty room.  I’m told she is going to the rest room. (Didn’t help, turns out she was full of shit)


She returns.  A young black girl.  Maybe a psych student at Brookdale. Am I depressed? Yes.  Have you had thoughts of suicide?  Yes. (Truth is depression comes and goes.  Suicidal thoughts, absolutely and 4 good reason.) 

Do I have a plan? (No.  I had three plans.  Multiple choice.  Pick the one U like)


I told them 2 her.  No sooner had I done that then two cops walk in the door and say I gotta’ go with them.  Shoulda’ never sed nuffin.  I’m escorted outside.  While I’m being searched I can see the the big nurse watching me out the window.  Got another one.


I’m put in the car and driven to the Riverview hospital in Red Bank.  If I was gonna’ make a break I should have done it B4 I went inside.  Cause inside I was escorted to the rear of the emergency room and directed to a bed in the hallway.  I can’t believe what is happening.  A nurse is standing next to the bed.  I realize she is a guard.  Someone sez:  I should be here a couple of hours.


Then comes little fat Pat the orderly.  Wants me to change  into a gown.  I don’t want to, ain’t gonna’ b here dat long.  Pat’s sez:  it’s hospital policy.  Ain’t mine, no.  Pat sez he’s gonna’ call security.  Do it.  He does.  Bunch of older thugs show up and tell me they’re gonna’ cut my cloth’s off me with scissor’s.


What was I suppose to where home.  They were gonna cut the black turtle neck sweater (My favorite) that I snitched from the Salvation Army.  When one of the nurses sed she’d go in the rest room and help me change.  I thought going into the rest room with her (She was nice) and changing with her…never can tell.


Inside, alone I took my cloths off hoping she would too. 

(Alternate version:  She did and wanted me bad and did some serious gropping.  I told her no, we might get caught if we didn’t come out soon.  I was worried they’d notice the hicky)


In the hallway I told one of the thugs fuck you.  In the hallway the nurse from the dressing room sed I’d probably yell @ her if she brought me food.  She then brought a tray and placed it next to my bed. (Why do wimmen always want to feed me?) By now I was too upset to eat.  I went to the V.A. and was kidnapped.  No appetite.


A room opened up.  The guards were changed.  The original nurse gave way to an old white haired dude who was followed by a couple of Haiten wimmen who rattled on for hours in French.  Fat Pat listened to his Ipad.  I paced in my room.


Finally a shrink shows up.  Young attractive.  Black hair, tights and boots (Better to kick your butt with)  We found a room where we could talk.  She didn’t want to let me go.  I was concerned the car would be towed.  Then there was Rufus my ferret.  He’d worry if I didn’t come back to feed him and whip his butt.


She sed she’d talk to her boss.  She came to the room and told me I have two choices, voluntarily commit my self to the crisis unit or be committed.  1st she would have to call in a screener and have me evaluated. Because one shrink sed I couldn’t go the screener probably would agree.


When would the screener b here.  Don’t know, maybe 2 morrow.  He showed up in a couple of hours.  Talked a little then came back and sed I have two choices.  I can voluntarily commit myself to the crisis unit or be committed.  Might b 3/4 days b4 that happened.  then I’d have to get a judge to let me out.  He told me I didn’t want to go there.  Leaving was not an option.


Shit city.  I went 2 the V.A. for a check up was kidnapped, threatened 2 have my cloth’s cut off and now I’m, being coerced into staying.  I was worried about the car and Rufus and signed.  Her darkness was gleeful.  I laid down.


After awhile some guy named Gus came in.  He sed he was here to take me downstairs (into the dungeon where I’ll never be heard from again.)  I was placed in a wheel chair and wheeled thru a darkened lobby to an elevator that descended into hell.  I was certain the lobotomy surgeons would be waiting at the bottom


I entered the door that sed CRISIS.  I was put in a room.  Soon a woman came in, who I’ll call Mountain Mama.  She was huge.  Probably a friend of the devil.

She took my vitals and just stared at me thru her glasses.  I signed some more papers (I probably signed 20 documents while I was there. ) Couldn’t tell you what any of them sed.  I was given back most of my cloths, escorted to a two bed room.  A beached whale was in the other bed snoring so loud the windows rattled.  I asked for a sleeping pill.  It didn’t work. 

In the morning I heard my roomy moving around.  He was talking to someone @ the door.  I had heard trucks outside in the nite.  I rolled over there was a window.  It was lite.  I peeked outside.  We were next to an underground garage but I could see the Navasink river.


I got up and wandered down the hall with the other patients.  At the end of the corridor was a activities room.  There was a tray of food for me.  Scrambled eggs, oatmeal and orange juice, maybe a roll. On tray was a menu that you could order your next meal from.


When I finished I returned my tray to the rack and sat down to observe what was happening. I noticed one woman.  She was Latin.  She was bundled up like she was cold. The rest were your basic run of the mill lunatics.  Some Jerzi boys and gurls.  Some older types.  A old lady that let everybody know she was Irish and would be o.k. when she got home and got the right medicine.  Fat & black my roomy, Silly Willy was there.


I was aware that there would be group meetings but now it appeared to be free time.  I sat on a couch.  After awhile the woman I noticed came and asked if was o.k. to sit next to me.  She was very demur.  We talk a little, then after awhile she got up and left.


2b cont’












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How Wall Street Turned America Into Incarceration Nation | Alternet

How Wall Street Turned America Into Incarceration Nation | Alternet.

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….if the Jews don’t like it you know it’s gotta’ be good.

Benni Netanyahu is quoted as saying (referring to the nuclear deal with Iran) “Today the world became a much more dangerous place, because the most dangerous regime in the world took a significant step towards getting the most dangerous weapon in the world”.

What’s hypocrisy? The pot calling the kettle black?

Why is it o.k. for Israel to have un-declared nuclear weapons but not Iran? How’s this for an idea?  Sanctions, divestment and boycott of Israel till they sign the non-proliferation treaty.  Agree to open up their nuclear program to international inspection and agree to stop enriching uranium?

And not another stick of settlement.

If they don’t that great nation with a nobel peace laureate (With a kill list) as leader can cut off all American aid, period.  That’d bring them to their knees.




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Another new gallery in AP

A cultural renaissance

picks up steam








Un-fortunately it is not possible to do justice

to this work here.

He uses “diamond dust” which sparkles when

you see the pictures.


ALF highly recommends a visit


  347 277-9530

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Why are they spraying us?

What with?

Did they ask our permission?

Should we have a say?

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