Tag: las vegas

Mel Brooks and the IDF The Greatest Jewish Weapons

Recent media would lead one to believe a Jewish man by the name of Oppenheimer created the most powerful weapon in the universe.

Okay, it was good or maybe not so good, but Jews have always had the most powerful weapon necessary to ensure their survival. A sense of humor.

Every family has an Uncle Saul who believes if he could get out of the family room and onto a stage in Las Vegas he’d surpass Shecky Green by miles. He always has the latest jokes, a comment about Aunt Rose’s brisket and he hides the afikomen so well no one has ever found it until the house was sold and the new owners remodeled.

It wasn’t important if you were laughing with Uncle Saul or at him, the point is there was laughter.

This has sustained the Jews and always will.

Just add the IDF to the equation and no one can defeat us.

In the Bible it is written that the army who carries the Ark of the Covenant before it is invincible.

I believe that along with the pieces of the Ten Commandments locked inside it, there is also Myron Cohen’s best Jew jokes from the Ed Sullivan years.

Now in a time of great pain and suffering for Jewish people and the risk of destruction coming from all continents on earth, is it possible to find humor in anything?

Can we laugh at the atrocities committed by Hamas who is now a big favorite with Jew haters all over the world?

Can we laugh at the fact our Jewish children are no longer safe in colleges and universities across this country?

Can laughter sustain us when we realize the country we have loved and supported our whole lives is now as welcoming to Jews as Nazi Germany?

Or the fact that one day soon we might all face a modern day Anatevka of our own?

So I suppose the question that has been on my mind is: “So where is Mel Brooks when we need him?” Is there a modern comedian today who can fill his shoes or even wants to?

Who has the guts to take on a Hitler, a Haman, a Hamas or a Torquemada?

Who is proud enough of being a Jew that they would sacrifice the ridicule from their antisemitic friends to stand up and make us laugh? Sadly some of these antisemites are actually Jewish.

World War II had weapons and even at the end one of mass destruction.

Nothing in history has been as great a weapon against the mustached lunatic than Springtime for Hitler. Dancing girls in Swastika formation marching and singing, every Jew laughed until he cried. And the tears were cathartic. Even now as we are trying to heal from these latest attacks on our people, we must not be afraid to laugh. Laugh so hard we cry and the crying cleanses us.

When Mel Brooks took an enemy down, he did it without mercy and he was our greatest general.

We need Mel now. We need him to take down Hamas and allow us to laugh at their insanity and evil.

Laughter and the IDF are the weapons that will ensure the Jewish people survive this latest horror and continue to prosper as a people.

Some may say it’s too soon, but is it ever?  If laughter is one our greatest weapons, why would we hesitate to use its force against this new and imminent threat to our people.

I’m sure Mel would do a piece on the Hamas leader hold up in a five-star hotel in Qatar complaining about the room service not having any bacon for his cheeseburger. Perhaps he might have him flirting with the server and trying to convince her to join him for a costume party where he dresses up as Amal Clooney. Maybe Mel would have him posing in women’s clothing as a closet gay man playing with Barbie dolls and dressing them in Burqa bikinis while he tries on bras.

Or maybe he would have to move to a much larger hotel room to hide and store all the food and supplies he is stealing from the Gazans Israel is flying in to them.

I’m sure he would look like Dick Shawn in blue Jeans, a Campbell soup can around his neck and a flower behind his ear.

As ridiculous and stupid as any evil maniac should be portrayed, Mel could do this like no one else. I can’t even try to imagine how funny it would be. He could make us laugh at this monster and reduce him down to the size of a cockroach small enough to step on. And that is the point.

Jewish people must never get caught up in this new mentality that making fun of and with people is wrong. That laughing at ourselves is not a great way to deal with our flaws and that although the world is against us, laughter will still serve as our greatest weapon against evil.

It is the ideal way to point out the stupidity, horror and savagery of the malevolent among us and cut them down to size.

Evil has no sense of humor. Once someone exorcises jollity from their spirit, they align themselves with idealogues and maniacs that take existence and their own craziness too seriously. They can’t condone humor and only live to serve their own evil agendas.

Jewish people need laughter as well as the IDF. We need our comedians, even our Uncle Sauls who can put a bagel on his nose and sing a chorus of Hava Nagila without dropping it.

Humor is a gift meant to be opened when all else fails to work to keep us going. It’s the way Jews have survived the ages and will again.

I pray Mel Brooks comes to our rescue and if he is not able to do so, we must pray our new hilarious Jewish comics, and there are many out there, will be able to carry on. I’m certain Jerry Seinfeld or Larry David are up to the task and could fill Mel’s shoes.

And believe me those are some pretty giant shoes to fill.

California Does Biblical?

Can You Ever Be Happy in California?

Don’t worry, be happy. A popular song and supposedly the attitude of Californians, but is it really?

Californians are never happy. In a state that is constantly complaining about the lack of water and screaming draught every minute I have heard ad nauseum how evil it is to take a shower lasting more than two minutes. I almost killed myself once trying to rush out of the shower to meet the time limit. Getting the soap off me in the designated time has become one of life’s great challenges.

I’ve heard Los Angeles politicians are considering forming a committee to determine whether or not to create a water police force.

So now I have to worry about using too much water and getting a ticket or being thrown in jail. In California showering an extra minute is apparently a far worse crime than robbing, looting, stealing or killing. But I digress.

So today as I sit here happily listening to the pitter patter of little raindrops on my window screens I am elated.

Of course the state is in a panic because water dares to enter its borders, but why when all they talk about is the lack of it?

The fig tree outside my window that is usually forced to be happy with the buckets of water I provide its roots when I remember, is literally dancing in the raindrops like Gene Kelly holding his umbrella and wrapped around a pole.

Yes, it’s windy and yes, it’s wet outside, but I’m from Detroit and a little rain is the least of bad weather to my mind.

So what does it take to make these Californians happy?

They hate it when it’s dry. They complain and run for the bomb shelters when a few raindrops hit the earth so what does it take to satisfy them?

A friend of mine said the grocery stores yesterday were pre-pandemic. People throwing food and Cheetos in their carts and fighting over toilet paper like the world was ending. Hey, that’s my Charmin and keep your paws off my quilted Northern! Oh my heavens the ground is wet how will we cope?

So why does California suffer so much from water envy?

Here’s a thought…when it’s pouring rain like it is today and was this past winter why not store the water to use when the supply is low?

Hmmm, that’s a thought. Let’s see; capture the water before it flows into the drains and back into the ocean. Duh, what a concept.

Hollywood is the land of the tease. When I first moved here I quickly discovered the weathermen loved to bait people with startling reports of inclement weather. Hide and take shelter the rain is coming.

Then I’d wake up the next morning and somehow it was always sunny and gorgeous. I soon learned that being a weatherman in LA is a fun job if you like tormenting trees and flowers with visions of falling rain.

Hey, Palm tree, wanna be in the movies?

There are definitely many risks associated with living in LaLaLand.

Shaking earth is the biggie. Every time I feel the earth move my heart stops and I close my eyes and pray.

Next, mudslides. How’d you like to wake up with a ton of mud sleeping next to you? Well in LA it can happen.

Third is definitely fires. Oh boy, this is scary because one spark can set off an entire neighborhood. I think we’ve seen lately how horrible the consequences of a fire can be after Maui.

Oh and there is the danger of driving on the 405. If you don’t pass out waiting to move an inch forward in traffic, you could be killed by some guy speeding in and out of lanes while cars are literally at a standstill.

So today California went biblical. Of course I’m not downplaying the dangers that can be a factor of a rainstorm. Lightning, downed power lines, snakes, no cable or Internet, flash floods, that’s a big one, or having your house float away into the Pacific Ocean like the coastal residents have to fear.

So far since I began writing this blog, we’ve had an earthquake, mudslide, tropical storm, floods and snakes.

So yes rain can be a problem, but right now the sound of the raindrops outside my window are a welcome change from the constant sunshine we’re forced to live with. Boo Hoo.

Wait a minute that sounded a lot like complaining about all the nice weather, Norma.

Oh Lord, am I turning into one of them? No, no, no I love the rain, I love the sun, it’s all wonderful. Let it pour and may every tree and flower enjoy each raindrop.

Of course it’s a good thing that California and Nevada are over preparing for any dangerous event. As Jalaima, our housekeeper in my youth always preached, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.”

I hear Tropical Storm Hillary is leaving for Vegas tomorrow. That’s a gamble. Good luck at the tables, even a hurricane couldn’t win in that town.

So fellow Californians stay alert and please somebody collect the damn rain water so I don’t have to take those two-minute showers this winter. It’s really hard to scrub your feet with track shoes on. What the hell? Was that a locust flying by my window and was he hugging a frog. Hey sound effects, cue the hailstones!

Keto Philly Steak

2 Zero carb tortillas if small. Larger you’ll probably only need one

1 cup Ground Beef or Steak

½ cup Green, Yellow or Red Peppers

¼ cup mushrooms (optional)

¼ cup Onions,

Oil,

1 cup Provolone or Mozzarella Cheese or two thick slices

Saute onions, peppers until translucent

Remove and add beef and when browned add back peppers and onions. Cover with cheese and then cover and melt cheese on top of mixture.

Remove and place on pita and fold over. Enjoy!

Seriously, Does it Cost This Much to be Me?



Seriously, Does it Cost This Much to be Me?

When Aliens land they better have a lot of money if they’re planning to stay on this planet for any length of time.

I’ve noticed the cost of keeping myself going is rising exponentially to years spent here. There is so much more entailed in just getting up and getting going now I wonder that it’s worth “the getting” at all.

Perhaps that’s why so many of my age group discovered during COVID it really wasn’t so bad staying at home.

Now I find myself among those who with just the slightest provocation are content to stay in sweats or comfy jammies in front of the flat screen in lieu of preparing this tired old body so it is presentable enough to go outside.

What once was a quick dab of this or that has suddenly become a truckload of all things necessary to get ready to face the world.

Let’s face it, youthful skin glows without the extra products necessary, young hair shines, young eyes are unencumbered with bags and young bodies are firm and toned without Spanx.

The Lord in his mercy designed our close up vision to worsen as we age to avoid seeing those wrinkles and lo and behold the Devil creates the ten-times magnifying mirror. Kudos, Satan, that was truly one of your greatest accomplishments and actually, your most evil since politicians.

I spend way too much of my time shopping for face creams, hair products, vitamins, medications, comfortable shoes that won’t leave me unable to walk for days after wearing them, and all the other products and services it takes to support me in my laugh laugh golden years.

I have come to the conclusion that although it’s much easier to downsize when older it doesn’t include bathroom drawers and storage closets.

Although my wardrobe may be smaller, my supply of facemasks, creams, body lotions, and hair shiners is large enough to fill the hole left by the world trade towers.

It’s crazy how much time one must spend preparing for the day. Sure hats help to disguise a bad hair day and Lord knows I make good use of them, but even wearing a mask to avoid lipstick cannot hide the giant Hefty bags under one’s eyes and having to buy concealer by the barrel.

Sure, you say, just wear sunglasses but you can’t wear them indoors without looking like a wanna be movie star and although spandex added to jeans is a discovery that should have been awarded the Nobel Prize years ago, one still needs Spanx.

I even find myself actually watching supplement commercials and senior exercise videos on YouTube. I didn’t say I actually performed the exercises, but I have deluded myself into believing just viewing them will somehow help me maintain a hard body. Huh! There hasn’t been anything hard on my body since 1979, except for the metal knee implant.

So why do we even bother to try and recapture youth? What makes us so aggressive about seeing ourselves as we were and not as we are becoming?

Well let’s be honest, aging ain’t no fun.

Oh sure I know the mantra about how grateful we should be to be here at all. Yes, I subscribe to that idea and am grateful, but it’s hard to deny living our lives older takes preparation and lots more money.

Getting out of bed in the morning is accompanied by moans and groans, aches and pains in places I didn’t know I had places, and that first glance in the mirror, well all I can say is OY!

One must ask oneself is it harder now because we notice things we had no time to notice when young, or have our bodies truly changed so much it’s impossible to ignore the obvious?

When we’re chasing our kids around, cleaning the house, dragging our tired bodies to bed at the end of a long day who ever had time to think about how many vitamins we’d taken?

Now suddenly it’s all about us and even if one chooses to ignore what’s changing, our bodies have become the Glenn Close of our existence. Did you know they make anti crepe cream for your arms? Who the hell paid attention to that crap years ago?

I can’t believe the money I spend on all the stuff I apply, drink, swallow and rub on my joints.

And it always seems like no matter how much of everything I buy at Costco to store away, I’m always running out of stuff.

My car automatically drives itself to CVS now and instead of planning fun trips to Las Vegas to gamble I am supporting Proctor and Gamble.

Of course we should make the effort to have great joint health, fewer wrinkles, thick hair, white teeth, regular check ups and try our damnest to ignore the scary warnings on all those new miracle drugs on television. I saw one recently that claimed it could help my arthritis, but it might be at the expense of a liver. Check please I’ll keep my arthritis thank you.

Once I never noticed the TV commercials for nursing homes for Mom, now I shake and cringe each time one comes on.

I am one high maintenance and expensive broad, but not because I’m traveling first class to every exciting European capital or wearing diamonds from Cartier, but because meds cost money.

Staying alive is damn costly and of course necessary but wow, whodda thought?

So is there a solution to this constant outpouring of money to keep us alive, functioning and looking good?

Is staying home and streaming the answer? Nope. For as long as we’re living we must keep living. We really need to get up, get dressed and get out to get on with our lives. Despite how much we’d rather not that day.

What’s the use of being alive if you retreat from life?

So I guess I’ll keep creaming, supplementing and Spanxing to go out and face the world. Even if the world doesn’t appreciate I’m saving them from the scary experience of seeing me au natural, the mirrors I pass by will.

So I’ll shop till I drop even if it’s not for the fun stuff I once bought. Hey I just got a fifty-cent coupon online for Oil of Olay. Great, now I’ll have enough for that trip to Versailles.

It’s Never Too Late? But For What?

It’s Never Too Late? But For What?

Its never too late is a phrase I’ve learned to hate. It’s a bigger lie than I’ll still respect you in the morning or read my lips no new taxes or no, your ass doesn’t look fat in those pants.

My entire life I bought into the belief that as long as you’re still breathing there is always tomorrow and another opportunity to get it right.

Wrong!

Of late I’ve come to understand there is a point at which when you knock, opportunity says, “sorry, no one’s home.”

The difficult fact to acknowledge is you actually do get to a place when you’re just too damn old to do some of the things you’ve dreamed of doing. Years of garnering wisdom cannot make up for physical prowess, but it can lead you to a different path.

Sure you can point to an Iris Apfel at 96 still hawking her wears on HSN, but she didn’t start that business in her nineties.

Starting over at a certain point is pointless.

The revelation that you’ve reached a time where certain of life’s choices are no longer available is heartbreaking and yet one must come to terms with the fact it’s a stark reality of aging.

There are many who reach the laugh, laugh golden years and are quite happy to hang up their spurs. After a lifetime of hard work and smart investing many seniors are happy to travel and play golf or tennis if health permits.

So you’re asking, what’s so bad about that, Norma? Must you always bitch about this whole getting-old-thing? Why can’t you just shut up and go to a driving range?

Sadly, I’m of the school that believes that there’s so much to do in life I selfishly want to experience more.

When younger I’d read stories about 60-year olds that went to law school or 50-year olds that lost their jobs and started their own businesses and I found it so inspiring.

Now of course I realize these people were not in their seventies. Oops, that smarts.

So what is someone standing at the doorway of old age supposed to do when their spirit and mind says start that business or get that job when opportunity slams the door in their crows-footed face?

Baby Boomers joke with one another constantly about forgetting what they’re saying from one minute to the next. Walking into a room and being unable to even remember why you did and the inability to recall names or familiar words. We all compare what body part needs replacing or aches that particular day and mourn the fact we can’t eat an entire corned beef sandwich without inhaling Tums.

My body is now calling the shots and literally rules my world. I feel like a mummy that walks forward while pieces of wrappings drop off with every step. “Ouch” now describes my athletic prowess.

I do recognize the fact many grow older without as much physical damage, but no one’s body totally seems to escape the ravages of time unless they’re one of the really lucky ones.

In the end of course the truly lucky ones are actually those still alive to complain about the aches and pains.

I had a doctor friend who used to say that if you’re over forty and you wake up in the morning and something doesn’t hurt, you’re dead.

Okay, I’ve kvetched enough, but isn’t there some truth to my bitching? Yep, humor aside, time often robs us of our dreams.

To be realistic most seniors cannot become a country music star at eighty, go back to school and become a doctor at seventy-eight or get an MBA at ninety. Life is what it is and time unfortunately is a cruel dictator. And yes, you can argue that becoming a country star at eighty is doable, but try to come up against the young people running the music and show businesses and see how far you’d get unless you’re a Maggie Smith or Judy Densch.

So what can one do as the years pile up? Plenty, if agenda matches ability. We can take on new goals and let the old pipe dreams fly away on that Spring breeze that carries old desires away to some youth-filled Neverland.

Is it sad to say goodbye to those aspirations so long a part of our soul? Of course, and one of the pains of aging is letting go of the dreams so long inside, much like old friends we’ll never seen again.

When I was sixty I applied for a job at a newspaper that was far below my abilities. The interview went well as the editor knew me by reputation and we’d even met socially on occasion. At the end he asked me, “Would you feel awkward working here among so many young people?”

“Where do you think I’d feel better working, at a nursing home?” I asked.

Needless to say he’d dropped the A Bomb (age bomb) and literally given his prejudices away.

Yes, sadly there seems to be a time when one outlives their usefulness in a youth-oriented culture. When it’s time to leave and despite how much you’d like to stay, the party’s pretty much over.

So as when we were younger and a goal didn’t materialize no matter how hard we tried, we must now bury many of our ambitions and seek new, realistic objectives.

Of course for some it’s easier as they are happy with a retirement filled with easily achievable goals. A hole in one, regular visits to the grandchildren, a riverboat cruise along the Danube, trip to Las Vegas or a Maj Jong tournament, and these are all great ways to spend one’s retirement.

Yet so many of even these aims are dependent on physical or financial health and many times when dream meets reality one falls short.

No, this isn’t intended to depress the hell out of you; it’s just a shout out to perhaps find a new project that inspires your passion.

Especially now when we’re relegated to our homes in hiding from the monster virus it’s easier to feel helpless and hopeless about the future. Now when each minute takes on new meaning and significance a year of our time has been stolen from our lives. For many it will be difficult to tear oneself away from our new berth in front of the big screen and our affair with Netflix and that’s okay, too.

I’m just kind of venting about getting back out into the world and creating a new existence.

Whether it’s resting on one’s laurels or realizing a long held dream, go for it and make it happen knowing what warriors we Baby Boomers truly are.

Accept what you can’t do with grace, create the life you desire and recognize how much you still have within you to achieve.

There’s a reason poet Dylan Thomas wrote, “Do not go gentle into that good night, Old age should burn and rave at close of day; Rage, rage against the dying of the light.”

So I’m schlepping myself away from this jigsaw puzzle and checking out my bucket list. For every item I can no longer achieve I’ll add another one I can.

Oy! I think the first one I’ll add is get up off the couch in under five minutes. Hmmm, do you think I can still hitchhike through Italy?

I’d be happy to do a cheer for your goals, but I’m not sure I could lift the pom poms over my head.