Most Important – At Least To Me . . . Anne & I Started Courting Almost 50-Years Ago To Date . . . Today Is Our 49th Anniversary.
On our First Real Date After our Initial Meet & Greet (Disaster) Almost a Year Prior, I Begged Anne to be my Date at a Mothers’ Day Dance, which I was Responsible for Organizing to Raise Money for our City-Wide Football Little League, To Which Anne Reluctantly Agreed.
I Was Hot For Anne . . . But Anne Was Certainly Not Hot For Me .
But Nonetheless – I Needed a Date, and I had Already Exhausted a Number of Nice Girls Whom I had Dated Before, and I Couldn’t Take any of the Girls I was Currently Seeing to an Event Where My Mother, Father, Family Members & Upstanding Contributors of the Football League would be Attending.
And Even Though Anne & I Had Sort of Dated Once Before – A Year Earlier . . . From Which I Knew Anne thought I was a Boor, I Called An Audible Anyway . . . and Decided to Throw a Hail Mary by Literally BEGGING Anne to Go to the Football Dance with Me, Just So I Could Have A Well Heeled, Respectable & Attractive Date.
With An Over-The-Phone Promise From Me To Anne . . . that Once at the Dance, I Would Introduce Anne to Some of the Professional Montreal Football Players who’d be Attending as my Guests – And She Wouldn’t Even Have To Spend Time With Me Once There.
How’s That For a Combination Of Shallow & Desperate?
The Deal Was Done . . . Anne Agreed & Once at the Dance we Spent Very Little Time Together. But Anne Wasn’t Interested in Meeting & Dating Football Players. Anne Was A Bank Teller, and was Far More Motivated in Helping the Ladies Coordinate the Cash & Ticket Sales at the Entry/Bar Ticket Desk, who were Making a Mess of Things. I Don’t Think We Danced Once Together, Since I was too Busy Coordinating the Event & Anne was Too Busy Handling the Cash.
At the End of the Evening, I Stayed Behind to Help Clean-Up the Rented Event Center. I had to Pay the Band, Settle-Up with the Liquor Providers, Bar Tenders and the Table, Chair & Rental People – Etc, Which Meant Anne had No Choice but to Stay Behind with me, since I was Anne’s Only Lift Back to Anne’s Home.
And In True Anne Fashion, as I Worked Taking Down Posters, Streamers & Assorted Party Favors, Stacking Chairs & Moving Tables, Anne was Just as Busy Helping me Stack Chairs & Moving Tables.
After All Was Said & Done . . . I Wasn’t Able to Bring Anne Back to Her Home Until About 1:30 In The Morning. And to my Surprise While we were Parked Outside Anne’s Apartment as I was about to Drop Anne Off, I Thanked Anne for Being a Great Sport and for Doing all Anne Did to Help the Dance to be a success, Anne Asked If I Wanted To Come-In For A Coffee.
Anne Had A Plush Carpet on her Floor, Where for Some Reason we Sat, Instead of on her Sofa, where for About a Half Hour we Just Talked About This & That, Until I Finally Said to Anne . . . “If I Still Think About You In A year From Now As I Do Tonight, We’ll Be Married”.
A Year Later . . . Almost To The Day, Anne & I Became Husband & Wife. Anne Was Twenty-Two . . . I Was Twenty-Three & Our Lifetime Adventure Had Begun.
I Watched The White House Correspondence Dinner Last Night. Either there’s Something Wrong with Me or there’s Something Wrong with Them – You Be The Judge.
I Understand Why President Trump Wanted Nothing To Do With This Verbal Debauchery.
It Seems . . . That The Politically Correct Thing To Do At These Events . . . Is to Make Light of the Morass that is Surrounding our Society by Pretending it’s all a Comedy Routine, where People Want to be Seen Laughing at Hurtful & Insulting “Jokes”, as if they Were Non-Consequentially Funny.
There’s Nothing Funny About The Pain We’re Feeling Throughout The Working & Retirement Class In North America.
There’s Nothing Funny About Families that Can’t Afford – To Eat 3-Square Meals A Day, Put Fuel in their Vehicles, Heat or Air Condition their Homes, Have Children Taught to Hate Other Children (CRT) Because of their Race, or to Promote Gender Freakery Without the Knowledge of the Children’s Parents.
What’s Funny About Being Terrified To Leave Your House Because Of Democrat Inspired Endemic Street Violence?
What’s So Funny About Running-Up Trillions Of Dollars In Un-Repayable Debt, or Locking People-Up & Separating Loved-Ones for a Suspect Disease, or Shutting Down & Bankrupting Independently Owned & Operated Business to the Sick Advantage of the World’s Giant Global Corporations?
And How Hard Should We Guffaw At The New Orwellian Directorate Of Restricted Free Speech?
I Would Answer All Of That . . . But I Don’t have Enough Keystrokes in my Fingers to Pound-Out the Answers since the Reality is as Sickly Convoluted as is the Media.
Our Societies Are On Route To Crash & Burn . . . And Just Like Nero Who Fiddled As Rome Burned To The Ground . . . We Laugh At The Coming Calamity.
I’m No Economist . . . And I’m Not The Smartest Guy In The Room, so How Could I be So Confident that we are in a Recession when the Big Banks, International Financiers, Wall Street, Governments & Media . . . Will Not Call What We’re In A Recession?
Why Am I So Smart & Cock-Sure Of My-Self? . . . Because Every Time I Shop for Food & Just about Anything Else, Put Gas in my Tank & Wonder Whether I Will Have Enough Money to Survive Until Next Month Without Going Into Debt – It Sure As Hell Is A Recession To Me.
Every Time I Walk Past A Small Retailer & See A Closed Sign In The Window . . . That Too Smells Like Recession To Me.
I Watched The Trevor Noah – Insultarama Last Night . . .
There is No Question that Trevor Noah, the Designated Comedian, is Extremely Glib and is Able to Deliver Joke Lines with the Best of Them, which Doesn’t Mean his Insulting & Mis-Targeted Jokes were of Benefit to Any of the People who Really Count. Nonetheless . . . I Defend Trevor Noah’s Indisputable Right To Say What He Wants To Say.
Imagine The Irony . . . A Conservative Like Me Willing to Defend the Right of a Comedian to Insult Me, As Much As I Don’t Like-It, while the Liberals this Comedian is Pandering-To . . . Would Shut Him-Up & Shut Him-Down Down Without A Second’s Thought.
I Remember A Much-Much Better Time . . . When Classic Comedians like Don Rickles, Dean Martin, Bob Hope – Etc . . . Hosted Weekly Television “Roasts”, Which were Hilarious because Everyone Had a Legitimate Laugh, Including the Targets of the Jokes, Without Pretending To Laugh As If It Wasn’t Hurtful.
I Saw Nothing Funny About That Prick Biden & His Sycophant Media Who Are Destroying America,
Last Nights White House Correspondence Dinner Was More Like Whistling Past The Grave.
Best Regards . . . Howard Galganov