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This time of the year a lot of people throw around that phrase, “I’m so blessed”! They proclaim a blessing on themselves to their family, their friends, and even, to their co-workers. They answer their phones by saying, “have a blessed day” and plaster social media with their indescribable “blessings”.

Why do these people feel they are so “blessed”. It’s because they have a great job, a nice home, a new car, a wonderful family and friends, good health, (are you getting the drift?) and so on. Because they “have” they are blessed. Since they have been the recipient of all things good, they are blessed. To “have”, means I am “blessed”.

But what about those that don’t have? Does this mean they are not blessed? How about the person who was just notified his job has been eliminated? The couple who has tried for years but cannot conceive? The man or woman who has been told they have cancer and only a few weeks to live? The person who doesn’t have the means to buy a nice car or a new home? Based on this universally accepted definition of being “blessed”, these people are not only void of any blessings, they are cursed.

Where did the idea come from that because we “have” we are blessed? When did we start to equate material possessions as blessings? Many wonderful, Godly people have nothing, while some of the world’s most evil people have everything. Who is “blessed” in that equation?

This false teaching concerning who is blessed, didn’t come from the teachings of Jesus. In Matthew, Jesus was very direct and explicit concerning who is blessed.

“The poor in spirit, those who mourn, the meek, those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, the merciful, they pure of heart, the peacemakers, and the persecuted”. According to Jesus, these are the people who are blessed.

Do you see any material possessions in that list? Any mention of good health, great family and friends, awesome job? No, because Jesus put no value on possessions and things. He never spoke in a positive manner concerning those with great possessions, particularity the rich. He told his followers that it is hard for a rich man to enter the kingdom of God. Nearly impossible. His brother James told the rich to weep and wail because of the misery that is coming to them. Not a positive picture for rich people.

So the next time you think you want to be blessed, ask yourself, “Do I wish to be persecuted”? “Do I want to go through situations that will cause me to mourn”? “Am I willing to be meek and poor in spirit”?  “What things in my life need to change for me to be merciful and pure of heart”?

You say you want to be blessed? Truly blessed? It’s not about what you have. It’s about who you are.

To hear Donald Trump talk, China is the worse thing that has happened to the US. Trump says it’s not “free trade’ we have with China. Its “dumb trade”. According to “The Donald” the US is the “dumping ground” for all of China’s products. Forget that Apple has sold over 700 million iPhone’s to enthusiastically willing customers in the US alone, (all made in China), or that Whole Foods 365 Organic brand food is imported from China, or those “Make America Great Again” hats Trump wears at his rallies, are, you guessed it, made in China! Yet, if you believe what Trump is saying, by nearly every measure, China is “killing us”.

Amidst all this gloom and doom about China beating the pants off the US, I found a ray of sunshine; a glimmer of hope in the sea of despair. There is one place the US is beating China at its own game, and that’s at the Chinese Buffet!

You can’t pass a strip center anywhere in the US without seeing a Chinese buffet. The Chinese buffet is as American as the Nail Salon, Check Cashing, Furniture Rental, and “Dollar” stores that fill nearly every strip center in the US. There are Chinese buffets in rural areas where they have never seen a Chinese person, nor can they properly pronounce the most popular Chinese dishes. But this is where good old American ingenuity has kicked in and kicked China’s fat little Buddha’s butt!

Have you taken a look at the food selections of the average Chinese buffet? What about it is Chinese? The warming trays are filled with deep fried, grease drenched, fat licking, artery clogging American cuisine like tater tots, and macaroni and cheese, and pizza, and onion rings, and roast beef, and chicken fingers, and potato wedges, and garlic bread! Garlic bread? Really? What the heck is Chinese about garlic bread? What happened to Lo Mein or Moo Goo Gai Pan or Chow Mein and Spicy Tofu Dishes? Its been replaced by fish sticks and chocolate chip ice cream!

Americans insatiable appetites have crushed the Chinese Buffets’ profits to the point they can no longer afford to serve Chinese food. The classic Chinese dishes have been replaced with cheap, unhealthy American food. Its a huge defeat for the Chinese! In order to stay in business they have succumbed! A friend of mine actually said, “well at least ‘they got’ sushi”. Sorry (I wont say your name to embarrass you). Sushi is Japanese, not Chinese! Its the only thing left on the menu that comes from one of those “nese” countries.

The last time I was in a “Chinese” buffet, I watched an old boy scarf down 3 plates piled high with fried shrimp, tater tots, onion rings, fried chicken wings, pizza, mac and cheese, and french fries. Not one thing on his multiple plates could be remotely considered “Chinese” food. After he finished he turned to his wife and said, “Honey, I believe that’s the best Chinese I’ve every had”. I could have just died then because with that statement I did just hear it all!

So you see, when it comes to the Chinese buffet, we beat China at their own game! They only thought they were going to move into our country and proliferate our cities and towns with “All You Can Eat” buffets that only featured “their” cuisine. However, like we Americans do, we fought back, and we won! Yeah, we went ahead and let them keep the name “Chinese” above the door, but we know the truth, and the truth is:

That ain’t Chinese food!

Last week when I went to visit my favorite dog, Tucker Jones, I found him with the insidious “Cone Of Shame” around his neck. You know, that plastic Elizabethan collar that looks like a home-made satellite television receiver? Seems Tucker injured his paw and continued to lick his wound so much it was not able to heal. The Vet cleaned the wound, applied some antibiotic medication, and installed the cone so the healing process could begin. Seeing firsthand the changes that took place in Tuckers personality, demeanor, and interest level, got me thinking; If the “Cone Of Shame” works so well on dogs, what positive impact might it have on humans?

First and most obvious, it would be a great diet aide. Why hasn’t someone thought of this before? We had to hand feed Tucker because the cone kept his mouth from reaching his bowl. Now, most humans don’t stick their face in a plate (notice I said, “most”) but it would still be very difficult to eat with a large plastic collar around your head. Less food in the mouth means less pounds on the scale. I see the cone scoring high marks as an inexpensive and effective diet tool.

Second, Tucker barks a lot, but with the cone around his head, the sound was definitely more muted. In fact, I think the echo from the cone startled him and deterred him from barking.  For that loudmouthed, know-it-all, never shuts up friend or family member? The cone is the perfect solution. Yeah, they can still pontificate, but its a lot more work. Plus, that sound of your voice bouncing off the cone is like listening to a recording of your voice. You know its you, but it sounds so weird, you aren’t sure you want anyone else to hear.

Third, there’s the pure entertainment value. We literally laughed our heads off as Tucker bounced his cone covered head off tables, chairs, the arms of the couch, cabinet doors, etc. It was like playing pinball without having to use the flippers. BOING! BING! BANG! Ladies, imagine the hours of fun watching your husband bounce off the walls, entry ways and shower doors, ricochet off the refrigerator and carom off the bedpost. The local comedy club could never provide this much fun.

Finally, it just may be the greatest birth control device ever, but I’ll leave that to your imagination!

This past week I couldn’t help but notice all the publicity Father Time was receiving.

“Father Time can’t slow Bernard Langer down”, a local newspaper reported after the 58 years old Langer entered the final round of The Masters one shot out of the lead.

“Barry Manilow, 72, cheats Father Time with convincing, energetic show,” was the headline after Manilow’s Peoria, IL performance.

“Rooting Against Father Time,” an Ohio sportswriter penned after watching the 66 year old Tom Watson walk off the 18th green at Augusta for the final time.

On the very night of this writing, Kobe Bryant will put on his Los Angles Lakers jersey for the last time. It seems like yesterday Kobe was baby-faced 18 year high school kid suiting up to play against men. He went scoreless that first game, but after 20 years, 33,000 points, 18 All Star games, 5 NBA Championships and 2 Olympic Gold Medals, it’s over. He is spent. His body, broken, no longer able to stand up to the rigor of the NBA season.

This idea Father Time can’t slow us down, we can cheat Father Time, we can beat Father Time, we can trick Father Time, it’s a lie. In the game of life, the absolute best have gone up against him, but he has always come out victorious. He is “Whatever” and 0. He is undefeated. He is the undisputed Champion. No one beats Father Time.

Now, we can push back Father Time’s effect on us some. We can inject some stuff and suck out other stuff. We can plug up or unclog and reduce or blow up. Lowered stuff can be lifted and lifted stuff can be lowered. We can Laser, Lipo, and Botox, and Rhino. We can get help for our “BP” and “ED” and even when we can’t go “Pee Pee.” We can fight Father Time with everything in us, but in the end, he will win.

So, live each day as if it could be your last. Don’t make people try to figure out if you love them; tell them. If there is something you have been putting off for some reason; do it. That bucket list? Get to checking things off. Those old grudges and foolish things you said? Apologize and make it right. Father time doesn’t give advanced notification.

One more thing. That picture at the beginning of this blog? As I was writing my final words and admiring what I had created, suddenly my chair broke in half and I went spilling onto the tile floor, ending flat on my back, as my head hit the concrete and my feet kicked the keyboard drawer out of its track . As I lay on the floor, staring at the ceiling, I swear I could hear Father Time laughing!

I am fortunate to live, in what many would consider, Paradise. A few minutes to the West of my home are some of the finest beaches, not only in Florida, but in all the world . White, sandy, beaches, as far as the eye can see. The beaches are the main reason why, each year, thousands of people vacation, relocate, and retire here. Tourists from all over the world are welcome with open arms.

A few minutes East of me is a place that’s NOT Paradise. I guess that makes it “Anti-Paradise”. Its not the reason thousands vacation, relocate, and retire here. In fact, if you are not from around here, you probably wont be welcome at this place. Tourists are barely acknowledged here, let alone welcomed. This is “OUR” place. The Pinellas Park Circle K!

At the Circle K, everyone knows everyone. At least it seems that way. The cashiers call you “Babe” and “Hun” and “Sweetie” They ask how you are doing, make small talk about life, ask what you have planned, and even tell you to have a good day. Early in the morning, it makes you feel all warm and fuzzy and wanted.

The daily regulars are people like James Roofing, Bobs’ Tree Service, Coastal Construction, and Willow Tree Nursery. Now we don’t remember the names of all those guys, but, we still know them. They come in the same time every morning for gas, coffee, soda (in a Polar Pop cup) and whatever warm delicacy has been spinning on the heated rollers since 4 AM. In fact, this month, Circle K has a tubular crustacean they call a “Sweet Thai Chili Roller Bite”. The guys from Bob’s Tree Service buy those little beauties for breakfast. They eat them as they are waiting in line to pay. Thankfully, they leave the store before we have to deal with the effects of what I am sure is a gastronomical disaster.

The “Polar Pop” is the big draw. Its a 44 ounce Styrofoam cup you can fill to the brim with your favorite soda. There are over 500 calories and 100 grams of sugar in a regular soda that size. That’s enough sugar to keep you high for about 3 days. The diet soda packs around 150mg of caffeine. That’s enough caffeine to keep you awake for about 3 days. Michael Bloomberg would hate the Polar Pop cup, but the guys at the Circle K? This is why they get up every morning!

You hear a lot of stuff at the Circle K. These days there is a lot of political talk, even in the early morning. They talk about our Governor, Rick Scott. They hate him. That’s pretty much universal. Of course, they talk about Trump and Cruz and Hillary. At times the talk is loud. It can be down right obnoxious. Everyone has an opinion. I actually heard a guy say he was for Ross Perot. I had to remind him that Perot wasn’t running. In fact, I wasn’t sure he was even still alive.

Folks talk allot about Social Security and Disability and their VA benefits. Its that kind of crowd. Everyone outside of the guys in the in the service vehicles seems to be on some kind of Government assistance. The Circle K folks don’t live week to week; they live month to month. You hear them complain about money, but they always seems to have enough to buy lottery tickets and beer and cigs. Lots of cigs. Before they can walk out the door they are lighting up and then standing next to their car scratching off their lottery ticket. I am always amazed how they can smoke with one hand and scratch off with the other. That takes real talent.

I noticed the Circle K now sells E-Cigs. Really? They also have craft beer, of all things! Some Executive at Circle K Corporate has obviously never been to Pinellas Park. This is Marlboro and Old Milwaukee country. Get those vaping things and craft beer out of here!

I hope you can plan a trip to the St. Petersburg, FL beaches soon. It’s a beautiful place. But, if you truly want to experience the local scene, drop by the Pinellas Park Circle K. However, if you aren’t from around here, be sure to back into a parking spot away from the building. If the locals see your New York or Michigan or New Jersey or Canadian license plate, you will get a stare colder than Antarctica!

This month a Florida jury awarded Terry Bollea, AKA “Hulk Hogan” $140 million in his lawsuit against the website “Gawker”. Gawker posted a video of Bollea having sex with his best friend’s wife and he claimed his right to privacy had been violated.

Gawker is the brainchild of Nick Denton, and has over 64 million monthly US readers. Their Facebook page alone has nearly 5 million fans and their Twitter feed 4.7 million followers. The numbers are staggering. Gawker proudly trumpets on its website:

“Attracting fans and critics alike for their inimitable delivery of news, scandal, and entertainment, the Gawker Media properties are heralded as everything from ‘deliciously wicked‘ to ‘the biggest blog in the world.”

I can sum up Gawker’s popularity up in one short sentence: People love to “Gawk”! Just look at the goofball peering into the window from the street during “The Five” on Fox News!

Webster says a “Gawker” is “a person who stares openly at someone or something. After a bad car accident on the highway, Gawkers often slow down for a look. To gawk is to gape, stare, or rubberneck without trying to hide the fact that you’re doing it.”

Gawker the website has tapped into a basic human trait; We love to gawk and stare and gape and rubberneck and any other word that describes this insatiable desire to watch. We can’t help ourselves. When we are admonished, “don’t look”, our brain responds, “You MUST look!”

This unquenchable desire to glance, starts when we are very young. Our parents are really to blame. They love to play “Peek-A-Boo” with us, but then, with “Hide And Seek”, suddenly, we aren’t supposed to look? How is a 3 year old to know the difference between uncovering their eyes to laughter in “Peek-A-Boo” and keeping them covered (or else) in “Hide And Seek?” You laugh at me when I look and then get mad at me when I look! It’s child abuse!

Next is the sinister Christmas gift hiding game. That’s where the parents tell you the exact room where the presents are hidden, but threaten bodily harm if you dare go in the room! Really? What sadistic punishment!

On and on this confusing game of torture goes throughout childhood and adolescence. “Don’t look at that book”, “Don’t come in our room,” “Don’t look in that closet”. The more they tell us “don’t look’ the more we want TO look! What kind of people do such things to their children?

As we get older we find ourselves following Father’s example. You know, the “don’t do as I do, do as I say” guy? He hears a siren, a screech of the tires, a crashing noise, and he runs to the front door, flings it open, and down the street he goes! Of course, we run after him! “Get back into the house” he yells! “You don’t need to see this!” All the while he is quizzing neighbors and bystanders and anyone who will listen. “What happened?” “Did they see?” “Who was involved?” He can’t help himself! If he is not able to catch a glimpse of the carnage, then he needs to hear every gory detail from an eyewitness who did!

Back in the house, does he really think we aren’t looking? Because we are! Peeking and peering and straining to see what has transpired. We just know it has to be good. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have forbidden us to look!

With today’s technology, we can even gawk at our gawking! If we can just get into the sight line of a television camera for a moment or two. We can grab our cell phone, call a friend or family member and say, “Hey, can you see me?” “Look at me peering into the window.” “That’s me standing behind the broadcasters!” “Turn on the DVR!” “Text Mom so she can see me waving and talking to you on the phone!” We can be “that guy!”

It will take tremendous self discipline, but I encourage you to do all you can to resist the urge to be a “Gawker.” Don’t be guilty of staring and peering and peeping and ogling. Yes, I know since childhood you have been told it’s better to be seen than heard. However, in the case of gawking, it’s MUCH better to HEAR and not SEE!

They come by the millions. They resemble us, but we know they aren’t from here. They are easy to spot. Their vehicles have black plates, blue plates, red, white and blue plates, and WHITE and BLUE plates! Those WHITE and BLUE plated people? They are the worse! They are from Canada! They come by the hundreds of thousands! They LEAD the invasion! AND, they stay longer than all the rest! It’s like once they invade you can’t get rid of them!

Their different colored plates aren’t the only way to spot them. They drive aimlessly through the streets, 10-15 MPH slower than the citizens. Especially the elders of their tribe. They are gawking, peering at maps, trying to figure out where they are. The younger ones are taking selfies while driving, and making videos to send to their friends saying things like, “We are here! We have arrived! Look at us!” They even get out of their cars and take a picture of themselves next to a palm tree. Like it’s the only and last time they will ever see a palm tree!

I can spot the invaders a mile away. When I go to my local WaWa for morning coffee, they are standing around the caffeine area talking, chatting, laughing, sipping a little, adding a little more of this and that,  acting as if they have nothing but time to kill. Obviously they don’t know our laws. You DO NOT talk to anyone while making coffee at WaWa! You don’t even make eye contact. You get your coffee and you get out. It doesn’t take more than 2 minutes. 3 minutes, tops! We are in and out!

When you drive by the local “Beach” shop, you can see them. In fact, they are lined up out the door! For what? Oh, they want something made of sea shells. Anything made of sea shells will do! There are NO sea shells on the beaches here, but that doesn’t stop them! “Look, I got a clock made a sea shells!” “Look at this pretty coffee cup made of sea shells!” “Wow, that big sea shell? If you put it up to your ear, you can hear the ocean!” Really? That sound you hear is actually the air rushing through your empty head between your ears. Sticking your ear against a sea shell is a dead giveaway you don’t belong here!

Where I live, they get up early in the morning and walk around the parking lot, in their nightgowns and robes and pajamas. It’s a ghastly site. Particularly the female ones who have sagging things I don’t want to see.  They are humming and singing and talking to one another. They are so happy! No one who is a citizen does such things! We barely open our doors let alone talk to one another! We live here. We don’t have to be happy about it!

I was coming out of one of my favorite local restaurants when one of them pulled up in his car, rolled down his window and asked, “Is that food in there any good?” “Of course not,” I replied. Those of us who live here eat at all the crappy local places. When they come here they go to all the fine dining locations like Denny’s, and IHOP, and Texas Roadhouse and their favorite place in the world, “Golden Corral”. Those places are packed with cars that have the plates of aliens. Obviously they are the food connoisseurs choosing to dine at such classy establishments. Me, I live here. What do I know?

Soon they will be gone, and things will be back to normal. The temperature will be 95 degrees every day. The heat so intense the bottom of your feet burn when walking on the sand. That’s when we citizens go to the beach. No one will be out laughing, and singing, and talking and taking pictures of palm trees. We won’t have to answer stupid questions like where is the nearest Steak and Shake. No one making eye contact at WaWa and no one in line at the Beach shops. Just we citizens, enjoying our sweet peace and quiet!

Every morning I get up and make breakfast. It’s a big breakfast; eggs, bacon, potatoes, an avocado, some fruit, maybe some tomatoes. I work from home, so I don’t have to hurry out the door with coffee in one hand and a granola bar in the other. I can sit down and enjoy a nice meal before my hectic day begins.

I have a Tappan gas stove. It’s an older model, made in the USA. The grates on the stove top are made of iron. You know the type. Each day I reach in my cabinet, grab a very large pan, sit the pan on the stove, turn the knob to “light”, and “Viola!” I have fire! For three years now, every morning, without fail, that stove lights, and I cook breakfast.

Now, the stove lighting when I turn the knob to “light” is supposed to happen. However, it’s not that simple. You see, someone made that stove. Someone right here in the USA. When that stove was purchased, someone delivered that stove to my home and hooked it up to the gas lines and the electrical outlet. They probably tested it several times to make sure the electronics and the gas worked correctly.

But that’s not all. You see, each day there are people behind the scenes, employed by the local power companies, ensuring electricity and gas makes its way to my stove, to make sure when I turn the knob to “light”, its lights!

I also know there are other people working behind those people, each day, insuring I have the power to light my stove. They take care of the machinery, and the lines, and the systems, and all the apparatus that drives power to my stove, so I can enjoy my daily ritual of making breakfast.

Some of those people work during the day, but others are there at night, long after I have gone to sleep. When there is a storm or an accident or some kind of emergency, they are right there, analyzing and troubleshooting and repairing, just to make sure, when I turn that knob on my stove to “light”, it lights!

Why go into all this detail, you say, to explain something as simple as lighting a stove? Because my stove works! It works without fail! Every morning I can count on being able to make my beautiful breakfast, take pictures of my plate and put on Instagram, because my stove works!

And guess what? My stove is only one of hundreds and maybe thousands of things I use each day that work! My shower works, my toilet works (thank God) my car, (made in the USA) works, AND my AC works! (in Florida, that’s important!)

I get a paycheck every week because my company, a US company, has a payroll system they developed, that works! When I leave the house, my door locks work; when I get gas, the pump works; when I go to the store, the automatic doors work; when I go to the beach and have to drive over the bay, the bridge works; when I drive on the tollways, the electronic toll booth works; when I need cash, the ATM works,(Well, except when it’s not working!) and so on and so on and so on. Things work!

Do you know why all these things I use each day work? Things you and I take for granted that WILL work? Because behind all these tools, and gadgets, and systems and toys, and processors, are people, right here in the USA, that work! They work hard! Day and night these people work! They work to make sure our stuff works! The stuff that we take for granted WILL work! The hundreds and thousands of things we use everyday, things we rely on, things we need, things we cannot do without, that work!

So when Donald Trump says, “Nothing works in this country anymore,” it’s not an indictment of the tools and gadgets and processors and gizmos and systems we use everyday; It’s an indictment of you and me.  It’s a slap in the face to all the hard-working people who, every day, and every night, work their asses off to make sure those tools and gadgets and processors and gizmos and systems we use everyday, some, many times a day, just WORK!

So don’t believe this negative garbage that “Nothing Works.” You and I have proof each day that most things DO work! They work because, we work, because America works, and for this, we can all be proud!

This past week, I bought a new phone. A MUCH bigger phone! Its like a phone that is trying to morph into a tablet. I think the proper term is “Phablet”. Its so big it covers the entire side of you head when you are talking. I think you can actually land a small plane on the screen.

I am not sure if its my advancing age, multiple eye surgeries, the need to always stay connected, not being able to drive without GPS, but I was just having trouble seeing and doing all the things I needed to do on a phone. I needed bigger, and in this case, with this phone, I can say with confidence, bigger is better. This thing is the Donald Trump of phones!

I didn’t just up and buy this phone on a whim. For weeks I researched the best phones with the best features and the best technology at the absolute best price. I poured over the data and agonized about the decision. I spent more more time buying a phone than I did buying my car or many people do buying a house! A colleague of mine said to me, “Its just a phone! “Just a phone? Really? Is that all it is? Just a phone?

I am old enough to remember when a phone was a thing that hung on the wall. You had one (two if you were blessed) to share among the entire household. I think we had two, shared by 6 people. I remember when we got one of those long cords that you could pull down the hall and into your room so you could shut the door and talk in private. I can still hear my Dad telling us to get off the phone because he was expecting an important call. Some of my friends even had a “party line.” Its not what you think! A Party Line was where you and someone else in the neighborhood shared the same phone line! Can you imagine?? But what I just purchased, this phone,is so much more!

I spent the entire week setting up my new phone. I mean the whole week. I ate less, exercised less and slept less in order to personalize my phone. Transferring my data, my contacts, my texts, and all my apps. I downloaded the latest operating system. I purchased a new SD card to store all my music and documents. When I didn’t like the new operating system upgrade, I spent the next two days performing the downgrade. Then back to downloading all the apps again, moving them around on my home screen just to my liking, adding the perfect wallpaper and perfect ring-tones, making sure I had quick access to Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and all the other functions that make my phone, “My Phone.”

There have been times when I left the house without my wallet and never knew until I had to pay for something. But my phone? The moment its out of my site, I know! I can go without money or credit cards or my drivers license, but my phone? Never!

I was so excited about my new phone, I suggested to my better half, maybe she should get one. She looked at my in utter horror! “But I like my phone.” “I have everything set up just how I want.” “If I bought a new phone, I would have to start all over!” I responded I would be happy to help her. After all, I am the new phone expert! But she was having none of that. Her phone was “Her Phone”, and the thought of no longer having “Her Phone”, if only for a few hours, was more than she was physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually able to grasp!

This entire process proved to me what I purchased is not really a phone. You see, what I bought is my essence. Its my being. Its the first thing I look at in the morning and the last thing I touch before I go to sleep at night. It cannot function without me, nor I without it. Its my very reason for living! I and my phone, are one, and nothing, will EVER come between us, as long as we both shall live! Amen and Amen!

A couple of months ago, in the tiny town of Hymera, Indiana (population 790. SALUTE!) a town hall meeting erupted into a brawl over the replacing of the town Marshall. Seems the board voted to supplant the current Marshall, who is suing the board, claiming he was wrongly terminated. What started as a disagreement soon turned into a heated exchange. Nasty words were hurled, and then a violent, physical altercation ensued. Eventually the fight was broken up, the police were called, and order was restored; for the time being.

Is what happened in Hymera an isolated incident between a group of local yokels, or an example of a disturbing pattern?

For years, we have seen a coarsening of human behavior in our society. Lenny Bruce, the controversial comedian, whose acts were filled with four-letter words, was actually arrested in 1961 for using obscenity during a performance. Can you imagine? Arrested for using obscenity? The words Bruce used then can now be heard coming from the mouths of a group of preteens walking through the halls of most middle schools.

The Morton Downey Jr. Show paved the way for the screaming matches between guests that are now common place on Cable News and Reality TV. Bernard Goldberg, the Emmy award winning journalist from CBS and HBO said, “Not that long ago, you’d never hear someone drop the “F” bomb in public. Now, waiting in line anywhere, it’s a common occurrence, with no apology from the user, even when your head snaps around to see who used that expletive in public.”

As recent as this week, we have seen the Presidential candidates of the Republican Party call each other, “Liar”, “Loser”, “Stupid” and “Con-Artist”, to name a few. What they refer to as a “debate” has morphed into petty and profane discourse, unprecedented in a Presidential race. These are the very people who will be tasked with leading us in a very dangerous and volatile world. The Commentators, Pundits and Journalists, who once would have blasted this kind of behavior, can be seen snickering like a 10 year old boy who just farted during science class. They actually think its funny; its to be expected; it gets ratings, ratings means money, Its the “new norm”,so deal with it. But is this really the new norm?

The answer to the question is No, because there is no such thing as the “new norm.” The “new” never stays “the norm”. Was Lenny Bruce the “new norm?” How about Downey Jr or Howard Stern or Chris Rock or the Kardashians?

What we like to think as the “new norm” is just a continuum on the excursion to the abyss. Its like riding a roller coaster. Once the car reaches the top of the hill and begins its free-fall, there is no stopping until you reach the bottom. You can scream, yell, cry and flail about, but once you start your descent, gravity takes over and you are no longer in control.

I would like to think its like skydiving, where we can pull the cord on our chute and float safely to the ground. However, human nature tells me otherwise. This free-fall started long before you and I. The question is, as a Nation, if we don’t pull the chute, what will happen when we actually do reach the bottom?