My 6-year-old grandson Lewis is very erudite and speaks remarkably well. He has been speaking in complete sentences since he was 3 years of age. Lorraine, my wife and his grandmother, tries to teach him “reading, ’riting and ’rithmetic.”
She recently asked him this most serious question: “Lewis, what is your favorite word?” Lewis thought for a few seconds and answered “Enthusiasm.” Lorraine shone with delight at his unexpected answer. After a short period, he asked her a question in return. “Grandma, what does enthusiasm mean?”
In response to Susan Lerner’s opinion piece in Newsday on July 3, entitled “Voters Are The Losers In Nassau Fight,” The League of Women Voters of Nassau County believes in many of the same principles Ms Lerner proposes. As a nonpartisan organization, the league has repeatedly spoken before the county legislature and to the temporary advisory redistricting commission for a fairer and more transparent process for redistricting than is currently being considered by this advisory commission.
The league believes first that the advisory commission should conduct hearings to receive input from residents about how the process should occur and suggestions on how district lines should be drawn. Then, after the commission creates proposed districts, there should be additional public hearings to discuss them. These hearings should be in all three towns and two cities in Nassau County and should occur at a variety of times (day and evening) and at multiple locations in order to accommodate as many people as possible. Equally important is that all meeting locations be handicapped-accessible.
At a recent Mets game at Citifield, the Mets were trailing by a score of 5-4 in the ninth inning to their avowed enemies from “the city of Brotherly love,” Philadelphia. The crowd then got into the action. Forty thousand Mets fans, egged on by the visuals and sounds coming from the scoreboard starting chanting, “Let’s go Mets!”
In addition, as the rally increased, the fans got out of their seats simultaneously and continued their incantation of “Let’s go Mets.” The cheering got louder and the opposing pitchers seemed to be affected by the mob’s desires. When David Wright blooped a winning Texas Leaguer in front of the Phillies right fielder, the crowd went berserk. It was a true New York moment. It reminded me of the old Madison Square Garden throng’s reaction at a Knicks game in the early 1970s. I was proud to be a New Yorker and the trip home was delightful. The multitudes had “willed” the victory.
I am reaching out to you, County Executive Edward Mangano, to suggest that we come together in a bipartisan manner and remove youth and senior services - along with all critical human service programs on the chopping block - from our debate over borrowing.
It is not justifiable to the people of Nassau that somehow this particular 0.15 percent of the 2012 budget has become mixed up with the fact that you want to borrow the better part of a billion dollars. The budget lines for the human services you are cutting have nothing to do with your borrowing.
This article is not about the world famous Broadway in Manhattan. It concerns the Broadway that runs through Syosset, Jericho and Hicksville. Some people call it Route 106 and 107.
As a resident of Hicksville-Westbury and then Jericho over the last 48 years, I feel qualified to speak about this Broadway phenomenon.
Warblers, tiny migrants, are flying across the path but quickly disappear. My wife spots one in a tall bush. Another woman also has her binoculars on it but I can’t locate the bird. After it flies, my wife tells me the little bird was black and white with a yellow head. The woman identifies it as a chestnut-sided warbler. It’s uncommon here, the first migrant of the morning and I missed it!
“A grasshopper walks into a bar and orders a drink. The bartender looks at him and says “You know we have a drink named after you.” The grasshopper replies, “You have a drink named Stanley?”
That is the kind of humor you will be subjected to in the new show on West 43rd Street between 9th and 10th Avenues. Old Jews Telling Jokes is the name of the hilarious production.
High school graduation is upon us, which means this would be a good time to tell the current graduates everything I wish someone had told me at the time. However, I’m not sure if the things I would like to be able to tell my younger self— like “Don’t attempt to go to school anywhere where an average snowdrift in November comes up to your face,” and “The people who told you that you could create your own major with ease were dead wrong,”— would be of much use to anyone else.
Instead, this time of year leads me to contemplate an interesting puzzle, something I didn’t understand at the time I went to college at all but find endlessly fascinating now. Basically, you go to college to start achieving your dreams, but if you actually succeed in that goal, you might be doing something wrong: college is supposed to change you. If you go through the kind of intellectual growth that college really should provoke, the dreams you had when you were 18 will likely not be the same dreams the new and hopefully improved, 22-plus version of yourself treasures.
I have long been a fan of British humor. I eagerly awaited each Sunday for Channel 135 episodes of Monty Python. John Cleese always had me laughing with his crazy schtick. They were a purely English group with slapstick routines.
I also was an admirer of Benny Hill. His bawdy double-entendres and outright sexual themes were hilarious. Terry Thomas, with his gapped central incisors was another of my favorites. Carry On Nurse captured British humor in all of its subtle irony. Don’t forget Alec Guinness as the many-roled victim in Kind Hearts and Coronets, a masterpiece.
There’s a show on the Food Network where pastry chefs compete for the title of “Sweet Genius.” Sweet Genius, hosted by cake maestro Ron Ben-Israel, challenges the chefs to make desserts with unusual ingredients like cactus, aloe vera, hot sauce and even baby formula. Nine times out of ten, the chefs try to hide the weird ingredients in some kind of batter or frosting, thinking they’ve beat the system, only to be devastated when Chef Ron says—with absolute, deadly seriousness—“I can’t taste the cactus in your cake….”
It’s incredibly silly and maybe even stupid, but I’m hooked: I love the show, and I even love watching Chef Ron stretch the concept of campiness to previously unheard of levels. It wasn’t always thus.
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