I wish Ezekiel Emanuel would keep his mouth shut.
He’s the Emanuel brother who says we should not live past 75 years of age. He tells the world that age 75 is when we are no longer productive and we become a drain on government resources. With a middle finger salute to him, I am now past that age and I am still productive. I write, I volunteer, and I spend a lot of time assisting my family. Think not? Ask my eight grandchildren. They love hearing my stories about the olden days.
“Did they have college in your days Gramps?”
Yes my darling, and I attended, and —believe it or not — I graduated. I am so old that in my day, the periodic chart in the chemistry lab had only four elements: earth, wind, fire and water, and alchemists were trying to make gold from lead.
That era was well before your grandma Carol and I said those magic words that made us roommates forever. We were two young kids working our way through college and going steady.
“Going steady?”
Yes. “Going steady” and “keeping company” were the expressions that youngsters used for dating in the “olden days,” and we were very happy just being together. I was saddled with tuition payments and didn’t have big bucks to squander so most of our dates involved long walks, or sitting at Canarsie Pier looking at the water, or taking a subway down to night court (because there was no charge for sitting in the courtroom to watch cases), or being part of the “live studio audience” of television shows (which was also free).
Let me know if you want to hear more about the olden days.
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According to my Second College Edition of The American Heritage Dictionary, to “pester” is to harass with petty annoyances. You don’t know what pestering is until you are the victim of identity theft.
Many years ago my roommate was one of the 13 million Americans who annually become a victim of identity theft. I think I know where her personal information may have leaked from, but who knows for sure? Every time we older folks go to a hospital or physician it is necessary for us to produce our insurance card. Our Social Security number is right on it, and after the fourteen year old gal in the white uniform makes a photocopy, we give her more information.
Who are her friends? Who knows if she is giving (or selling) that info to an unscrupulous contact?
Once Carol’s info was out there, we started receiving telephone calls from banks, car dealers, department stores, collection agencies, more collection agencies, and still more collection agencies. They called and called and called, pestering us. It took several years to straighten things out and even today, every so often, we still receive their calls. My favorite response is, “She doesn’t live here anymore. If you find her will you please let me know where she is? She owes me money also.”
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“… And to the republic for which it stands …” Hmmm … After the cocktail party the other night, where almost all of the discussions dealt with America, we realized that only half of those present knew what a republic is. Do you?
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I am StanGershbein@Bellsouth.net offering those of you, young and old, who like to play in the snow some friendly advice: Don’t eat the yellow snow!