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i am judged by my peers

About four months ago I submitted my blog to be critiqued by an outfit called Ask and Ye Shall Receive. They are a group of bloggers who will give you an honest assessment of what’s right and what’s wrong with your blog.

They are brutally honest and, as you know, brutal honesty can sting. They try to warn you ahead of time. The URL is “I will fucking tear you apart dot com.” In the submission guidelines you are warned that in reviewing your blog, there’s a chance that they’re “going to rip you a new hole to shit through.”

However, within those barbs are some very useful suggestions on how to make your blog better. And God knows I need as much help as I can get. Your friends won’t tell you your blog is a train wreck, but they will. And they’ll tell you how to fix it.

I made the mistake of dropping my blog into the review queue before actually reading any of their reviews. I’m impulsive like that. So I’ve been waiting in a state of semi-dread since April. I like my blog and these guys can be pretty viscous but I wanted to hear what they had to say.

Here’s their review.

david v. goliath new york version

This is my coffee cart guy. Do you see him there? On the right, behind the white car? He’s a nice guy from Alexandria. He’s got seven brothers and one sister back home in Egypt. He misses them, but he always seems to be in a good mood.

Everyone who works in New York has their own coffee cart guy. It’s part of the fabric of the city. You establish a rapport with him and you don’t buy coffee anywhere else. Eventually, he’ll know your order and if he sees you approaching, he’ll greet you with it already in the bag.

My guy sets up right in front of the Starbucks on 41st and Broadway. I like his nerve! I’ve always identified with the underdog because that’s all I’ve ever been. I’m just regular. Plus, his coffee costs a small fraction of what I’d pay at Starbucks. Fuck Starbucks. I’m sticking with little guy. Especially in the winter when he’s out there in the cold.

Each morning we exchange the same banter. I make fun of his coffee and he makes fun of my clothes.

When are you going to start selling some decent coffee?

As soon as your wife buys you a new shirt. How many times are you going to wear that thing?!

We have a laugh, bid each other adieu and head off into our day, hoping it won’t be too wretched.

While he’s preparing my coffee, I’ll turn around and look in the window of Starbucks. All you see are the tops of people’s heads because their faces are buried in smart phones, frantically texting and ignoring the world around them. Times Square is just outside the front door to the right but they might as well be in Broken Bow, Nebraska for all it matters. Idiots.

Final score: Humanity: 1 Starbucks: nil

Rabbi Tony Sopranowitz

Last week I did a post about a mass corruption sting operation here in New Jersey that netted 44 people, including three New Jersey mayors, two state assemblyman and five rabbis who are charged with money laundering. This all came about courtesy of an FBI informant, a rabbi who was head of a sect of ultra-Orthadox Syrian Jews. The good rabbi was arrested by the FBI on bank fraud charges and elected to act as an informant in exchange for leniency.

This past week, the informant rabbi’s father spoke emotionally to the congregation about the case. I would have thought the speech to be a meditation on how even men who have devoted themselves to God can fall and a reflection on the corrupting influence money has on society.

Don’t bet on it. The Asbury Park Press reported:

“In what sources describe as an extremely emotional speech at Deal Synagogue July 25, Dwek’s father, Rabbi Isaac Dwek, strongly denounced the act of a Jew informing on other Jews, without specifically mentioning his son.”

Speaking on a Jewish radio program, Sam Hirsch, a lawyer and Former state assemblyman said Dwek “should have been killed” after informing on other Jews.

Apparently, not a word was spoken about the indictments or the crimes committed. As Mrs. Wife astutely noted, “They’re just like the Mob.”

It seems the deeper a person delves into religion and separates themselves from secular society, the more wacked out of their minds they become. They all tell everyone else how to live but they’re above the law. And please, spare me your comments about me being an anti-Semite because I assure you I am equally nauseated by the Christian and Muslim lunatic fringe.

The Catholic church committed sins against its parishioners for which they still haven’t atoned for. The only reason they started to address the problem was because enough victims were hauling their asses into court and successfully suing them. Otherwise, it’d still be going on. And we here in New York are all too familiar with what Muslim extremism can lead to.

Religion. Feh. Go with God.

a slow day at the New York Times

One of the great pleasures in my life is the Sunday New York Times. I don’t know what the hell happened to me. I use to drive drunk, have unprotected sex and smoke a ton of weed. Now, all I need is a sunny Sunday morning in my back yard, a cup of coffee, a Hostess Suzy Q and the Sunday Times and I’m a happy man. I’m sure I’m a big disappointment to my pals back in Cleveland.

The best, best part of the Sunday Times is the Arts & Leisure section (aka Farts & Seizures). I just love it. But in August, the entertainment community is away on holiday and there isn’t much to write about. Things are so dead right now that the big front page feature article in today’s Arts & Leisure section is a long tome on the resurrection of Tom Arnold’s stand-up career. I’m not kidding. Also, you’ll find long captivating articles on the new Chris Kattan TV series and a feature on the “First Ladies of Screwball Comedy.”

Holy shit, man. Who cares about any of that?

Come to think of it, it makes for a pretty goddamn boring blog post, as well. Sorry, folks. Go back to what you were doing.

* * *

Actually, as long as I’m being judgmental tonight…Why am I so happy that this movie bombed?

I’ve got nothing against romantic comedies. Who doesn’t like Groundhog Day? Mrs. Wife and I watch Love Actually every Christmas and I usually get kinda choked up during Colin Firth’s restaurant proposal.

But this ad has a stench coming off of it.

“Oh, look at me! I holding up a red cardboard heart! I’m looking for love! love! love! You can tell by my red cardboard heart!”

“And I have a red cardboard heart covering my penis! Tee-hee! I just want to get laid but I’ll learn a valuable lesson about relationships and feelings!”

Sitting through this would be like swallowing your own vomit.

The first time I saw this ad I thought that the movie was probably going to be pretty awful and sure enough, the reviews came out and everyone said it was junk. Maybe if the reviewers keep labeling junk like this junk, Hollywood would stop producing cynical junk like this.

Maybe not. Now, that’s the ugly truth.

the soundtrack of your day

I was navigating my way across a crowded 42nd Street and through the beautiful madness of Grand Central Station and my iPod shuffle, freak show that it is, selected Five O’Clock World by The Vogues. Do you know this song? It’s a great example of 60′s American pop and exactly what you’d want to hear on your way to work. The iPod shuffle scares me a little bit.

Up every morning just to keep a job
I gotta fight my way through the hustling mob
Sounds of the city pounding in my brain
While another day goes down the drain

But its a five o’clock world when the whistle blows
No one owns a piece of my time
And there’s a five o’clock me inside my clothes
Thinking that the world looks fine, yeah

an englishman who loves new york

The Manhattan skyline blew my mind the first time
We went down to the scene of the crime
Lookin’ for the soul of America

Those are Ian Hunter’s lyrics.

Ian Hunter is a British 70’s B-list glam rocker who was the lead singer/songwriter for Mott the Hoople. They had a big hit with All the Young Dudes, which was written by 70’s A-list glam rocker David Bowie. Andy Mackay, saxophone player from 70’s (A? B?)-list glam rockers Roxy Music played the searing sax solo on Mott the Hoople’s hit All the Way From Memphis.

Hunter also had a fairly successful solo career. 80’s hair band Great White scored a minor hit with a cover of his Once Bitten Twice Shy which was, not surprisingly, not as good as the original, and his Cleveland Rocks was the title song for The Drew Carey Show.

When I was a teen, Mott the Hoople was one of the bands I idolized. My fascination with all things British started at an early age. Additionally, Hunter has incorporated his love of New York City into several of his songs, which has endeared him to me even more as the years peeled away.

Recently, I got to see him perform at a free outdoor concert in Manhattan. It was part of the River to River Festival. The Festival is an annual NYC summer event that offers free concerts, plays and readings in parks along the Hudson and East Rivers.

When Mott the Hoople was touring, I was too young and too broke to ever see them perform. Watching him perform Central Park n’ West with Manhattan as the backdrop made my 15-year old glam-rock heart sing. Just look at him. The glam is long gone but the music remains.

i’m peter pan

I won’t grow up,
(I won’t grow up)
I don’t want to wear a tie.
(I don’t want to wear a tie)
And a serious expression
(And a serious expression)
In the middle of July.
(In the middle of July)

Yup. That’s me on my skateboard riding next to 7-Year Old Daughter on her scooter. I can still ride a skateboard as though the devil were twisting my tail. Those of you who know how old I am will look upon me with either admiration for having retained my dexterity so late in life, or sadness for being in denial about my advanced age.

Daughter said I committed a “safety violation” by not wearing a helmet and that I owed her 10 cents. I am policed by everyone.

A tip o’ the hat to Mrs. Wife for taking such fine shots.

around the dial and into my head

Monday morning. I get into my car, back it out of the driveway and turn the radio on.

click

…Palin stepped down as Governor of Alaska…

click

…with three gunshot wounds to the chest…

click

Longer than there’ve been fishes in the ocean
Higher than any bird ever flew
Longer than there’ve been stars up in the heavens
I’ve been in love with you.

BARF. click

…which makes nine out of 10 victories for the surging Yankees…

click

…with heavy downpours expected…

click

And then, seriously,

Tell me why
I don’t like Mondays

New Jersey: the Tony Soprano state. For real.

The FBI just arrested 44 people and charged them with money laundering and bribery in a sting operation here in New Jersey. Those indicted include three New Jersey mayors, two state assemblyman and five rabbis. The scope of the corruption and arrests is unprecedented, even by New Jersey standards—and that’s saying something!

Included in the arrests was an 87 year-old Chief Rabbi who is charged with taking $200,000 in bribes to launder money through Israel. His congregation is located in (of course) Deal, NJ.

In one bizarre episode, $97,000 cash was delivered in a stuffed Apple Jacks cereal box. By who, I wonder? Paulie Walnuts or Big Pussy?

While accepting a bribe, an informant wearing a wire recorded the mayor of Hoboken claiming he was so popular that he would win the election even if he was “uh, indicted.”

But I think my favorite criminal must be Democrat Assemblyman L. Harvey Smith of Jersey City who ran for office on an anti-corruption platform, telling The New York Times: “I don’t take cash. I don’t let people give me things.” He is charged with taking $15,000 in bribes.

Only $15K? That’s cheap by corruption standards. New Jersey: our crooked politicos work at a discount.

On the same day, Evangelist Tony Alamo, who ran a multimillion-dollar Christian ministry, was convicted of 10 counts of sex abuse with his parishioners, some of whom were minors.

* * *

Politicians and theologians get paid to tell other people how to live their lives. Ironically, you’ll never find a more vile and corrupt collection of villainous scumbags on the plant.

Humanity, you never disappoint me.