What Now?
How Cool Are We?
Maybe, we wish, we hope, by the time you read this, we’re ‘way cool. Y’know, limber, in-the-know, into every band promoted by CityBeat, seeking adventurous dining in the new restaurants that keep popping up; we’re creative, edgy, wearing highly hip duds, with holes in the knees of our jeans and short black high-heel boots with …um, everything.
OR, we’re not so cool. We’ might still be roasting.
We’re holed up indoors, testing every window through which a breeze can possibly
flow. We’re distraught because that breeze is about l00 degrees; we pray that the air conditioner, which we forgot to have serviced, still works.
We’ve read nearly everything in our stacks … even the trillion – word cover story in New York Magazine, which features Martine Rothblatt, who used to be Martin Rothblatt – “…a white, Jewish lawyer and also a transgendered woman…a father of four married to an African-American woman and therefore also, sort of, a lesbian…” Besides being the hugely successful founder of United Therapeutics, a pharmaceutical company, she involves herself in digital immorality, eternal life research, another project she calls “trans-religion,” and herself, a “trans-humanist.”
Struggling with that story was maybe better than struggling under the sun – the downside being the realization of how ordinary, conventional I am.
Indoor time did help me review the Sunday so-called comics yet again – – and re-conclude that the only one that holds up with any ‘humor’ is Dan Piraro’s “Bizarro.”
I’m getting highly suspect of those (no names) who giggle at “Mother Goose & Grimm,” Wiley’s “Non Sequitur,” Lalo Alcaraz’ “La Cucaracha,” oh, c’mon. Never mind John Allen’s “Nest Head,” and Kevin Fagan’s “Drabble.” Yawn.
If, however, they distracted us, however briefly, from the unrelenting Ebola spread, the Scotland/England independence vote, the NFL abuse scandal (and the need for Mr. Goodell to invest in crises communications), the ebullient – possibly to be admired – Jack Ma of Alibaba, and trying to figure out exactly how he’s made his fortune, ISIS, Syria, Ukraine, we’ll tolerate the so-called “funnies.”
Good that it was hot, providing time needed to find early photos of Mark DeBoskey, now retiring from Jazz88.3 FM. How else do you honor a cool radio career but with his impressive history? I managed to recover a 1984 photo…whew! There we were, lookin’ plenty hot (whoops!).
Played old cd’s, tossed out duplicate photos, sighed but tossed, too, the ones in which I didn’t recognize anyone (ouch!). Virtuous.
And, despite having given up ‘ZITS’” the minute the kid reached his teens, and writers Jerry Scott and Jim Borgman lost their sense of humor, I, instead of simmering in the heat, tried again for a laugh, but no dice.
Laura Walcher and Mark DeBoskey stand in front of the radio station back in 1984.
Someone oughta give me a comic-book strip; I may be ordinary and conventional, but at least I’m finally cool.
Category: Entertainment, Local News
