Nassau County Police Commissioner Lawrence Mulvey had been told that the raids, by U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), were supposed to be targeting deportable gang members.
I have always been intrigued by the tiny, feisty French chanteuse, Edith Piaf, belting out that song, No Regrets. She lived a raucous life and lost her love, Marcel Cerdan, the champion boxer, in a plane crash but she never gave in to sorrow.
As a septuagenarian I have rescanned my own life and come up with a few minor lamentations. A minor regret that has plagued my later career in journalism is that I didn’t pay more attention in my typing class in high school. “Hunt and peck” style doesn’t do wonders when writing essays.
It’s early morning and I’ve barely stepped onto the sands of Whitney Beach, across from our winter rental in Longboat Key, Florida and a sense of mystery permeates the air. A split second ago a mercurial warbler zipped around some tall beach grass and vanished before I could get my binoculars on it. Frustrating. I used to know the bird’s name but forgot it. However, I’m developing a mental file folder of its behavioral habits and when I get the name next time I won’t forget it.
Lately I have been hounded constantly to join groups of my high school acquaintances in conversations over the Internet. Actually, I graduated from James Monroe High School in the East Bronx over 60 years ago.
Stretching my imagination to the fullest I wonder what we two old high school buddies could talk about. If we haven’t connected in the last 60 years, what chance do we have of establishing a meaningful relationship today?
Why is the Governor of New York working so hard to point the finger of blame at the salary of Dr. Carole G. Hankin as if her income alone is responsible for the district’s property tax rate? Why is he treating her with the disrespect one would expect from an Attorney General to an evildoer, instead of the respect due to a valued public servant? Maybe the answer is that he doesn’t want local property owners to ask why he is cutting aid to the Syosset Central School District in spite of the fact that the State of New York leaves 93 percent of the cost of educating children here to property taxpayers.
“To retire or not to retire?” that is the question?
Start weighing the negatives and positives in your mind. Working in a job for 30 or 40 years, lulls you into an atmosphere of ease and contentment about the future. There are no questions of where you have to be Monday through Friday at nine to five.
The title of this month’s column is likely to evoke associations of murder and mayhem. However, don’t be misled; this is not a tale of teens gone bad. It is about our winter of discontent. And, I am not talking about NIFA taking over Nassau County’s finances.
So why the title, you may be wondering. It all started with a series of annoying television messages scrolling across the bottom of the screen. One of them read “…brutal teens on Long Island.” It was a partial message that required the viewer’s waiting for the next scroll-go-round to get more details.
As a born New Yorker, I have always felt that it is a distinct privilege to be close to the New York cultural scene. The “Great White Way” now sparkles with the three plays I am about to speak of.
Freud’s Last Session was played at the West Side YMCA on 63rd Street at what is called the Marjorie S. Deane Little Theater. After 79 years and $2 million, this theater is a charming place to view a play, right off Central Park.
The Nassau County Interim Finance Authority or “NIFA” recently issued a control period over County finances. NIFA is comprised of non-elected and unaccountable individuals appointed by State politicians.
When I was a young man in the 1940s and 1950s, we celebrated Feb. 12 as Abraham Lincoln’s birthday and Feb. 22 as George Washington’s day of birth. Somewhere along the way, we have scrunched (is that a word?) the two together.
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