Acura, but not accurate.

This is an expensive commercial. It takes a lot of planning and time and people to create a commercial like this. The finishing touch is, of course, the voice over, the copy that convinces you to buy an Acura.
So I wonder why nobody noticed that the announcer says, "This is are point of view" instead of the correct "our point of view".  Does diction not count anymore? Do announcers not take pride in having
excellent pronunciation?  Automobile commercials, for the most part, are incredibly pretentious, suggesting all kinds of glamorous lives that most purchasers will not be living, so I think it's a pity that Acura wasn't at least upper class enough to have proper diction.

Another crappy update of an American classic?

Nothing spells disaster like arrogant filmmakers attempting to update classic movies or shows. They did a terrible job with the TV versions of The Music Man and Bye Bye Birdie, a so-so job with The Sound of Music, and—to my mind—a weak remake of the 1961 masterpiece A Raisin in the Sun. And why? Because, aside from having limited vision, they didn't have Robert Preston Dick Van Dyke, Gwen Verdon, Ray Walston, Ruby Dee, Diana Sands, Sidney Poitier and any of the other unique talents that made these originals original. Now the latest insanity is to update Damn Yankees, a musical that was great because of its innocent times and brilliant creators Jerry Ross and Richard Adler. The plan is to write new songs (which will never be as good as the originals) and star Jim Carrey as the Devil (a tempting over-the-top role) and Jake Gyllenhaal as Joe Boyd. I don't know why these egotistical producers can't find something new to produce instead of trying to improve something that they can't improve.

I'm giving up fucking.

Michael Keaton is one of my favorite actors. So naturally I was eager to see him in the much-praised film, The Birdman. But right from the beginning it was filled with unnecessary obscenities. I'm not a prude, but I am an adult. I don't need a string of fucks and shits and every other curse to find a film entertaining, and I doubt that most people do. I also doubt that many people swear as much as the characters in movies. That's a screenwriter's hang-up. (Although I suspect you can't get a program on HBO if it doesn't have plethora of swears.) So my new rule is if there are too many gratuitous curse words, I'll turn to something more realistic and well-written. Why should I waste my time on some juvenile fuck-filled screenplay when there are still excellent dramas and comedies that have a balanced view of how people actually speak and people do no swear nearly a much as they do in the movies?

P.S. I have no idea how the plot of The Birdman progressed and I don't care.

No phone. No E-mail.

I didn't have computer or phone service all day Thursday. The computer said, "You are not connected to the Internet" but it should have added, "because Comcast as screwed up yet again." I finally called them—a process I detest since their recorded message is so repetitively unhelpful—but was finally connected with someone in China or the Philippines. These "reps" are so obsequious, you could hurl the most abusive insults at them and they would say, "So sorry you've feeling distress. I will do my best to remedy the situation." At any rate hours later everything was working again. Why? I will never know. Of course I'm still having trouble with Roku, which only works about half the time. And to think I've recommended it to friends.

What a loss.

One of the greatest tragedies to befall the American theater was the death of Jerry Ross on November 11, 1955 at the age of 29. Ross, a supremely talented lyricist and songwriter, along with his writing partner, Richard Adler,  created two of our most famous musicals, The Pajama Game and Damn Yankees. Not only were they both amazingly successful, each running for more than 1000 performances and adding many hit songs to the American Songbook, but they were produced within a year of each other, in 1955 and 1956. Both were made into successful movies and are being staged even today all over America. One can only imagine what theatrical treasures we would have today if Jerry Ross had lived. If you are at all fans of American musicals, I encourage you to visit YouTube and watch the San Jose Children's Theater version of "You've Gotta Have Heart" and the Stratford High School version of "Shoeless Joe from Hannibal, Mo." I predict they will make your day.

Three voices of the enemy.

Axis Sally spread propaganda for Germany and had lots of fans. Tokyo Rose spread propaganda for Japan and had lots of fans. Megyn Kelly spreads propaganda for Fox and has lots of fans. And lately the media have been giving Megyn praise for her feud with Trump. But that doesn't change the fact that she works for the slimiest "news" network ever and is no more a respectable journalist than Sally or Rose.

"No thanks."

At 73, I have never been behind the wheel of a car. I say this with a certain amount of pride because it took some ingenuity to avoid ever learning to drive or needing to drive. I have always lived in cities with public transportation and always worked within commuting distance. And, as a writer, I feel I have met many more interesting people on busses and trains than I ever would have met as a motorist. I admire people who do drive, as I would not be able to deal with the insurance, registering, traffic, gas stations, valet parking, meters, searching for parking spaces, waiting at the DMV or, god forbid, an accident. The idea of exchanging papers and dealing with an insurance company horrifies me. I also take great pride in the amount of money I have saved by not driving and must say I feel somewhat smug when friends complain about their insurance bill or the cost of repairing that dent. Yes, of course, I often depend on friends to drive me somewhere that we're all going, but am happy to pay for the gas, parking or tolls. Also, truth be told, I would be a lousy driver, the kind of driver that makes you say, "That person should be not allowed on the road." I was forever falling over on my bike or getting in other people's way. Plus, if I were ever in an accident where someone was killed or maimed, the guilt would destroy me. So, despite the fact that friends constantly say, "You should learn to drive" there is no a chance in hell I ever will. Especially when I have heard this sentence so often in my life, "I couldn't live without my car."

Desecration.

Whoever is managing the Richard Rodgers estate is doing a piss-poor job. One of America's greatest composers deserves more respect than having his and Oscar's songs used for a TV commercial about theft. Rodgers didn't even like having his songs stylized. He wanted them sung as they were written, and he had every right to expect that. Not only is this a disgrace to the memory and music of Richard Rodgers, but it's an indictment against the agency that produced this. It shows they have no regard for genius, and they are so totally lacking in imagination they had to take a great song and soil it. And why isn't his family protecting his legacy? Surely Rodgers has left them with enough of a fortune that they don't have to prostitute his brilliant music to such low-brow hucksters.

Thieves.

Senior Citizen subscribers to Medica are getting screwed this year, now that it's owned by the monopoly United Health Care.  Prescriptions that had moderate copays now have outrageous copays. I personally had to pay $60 for a 90-day generic Nexium and $120 for generic Avodart. The previous copay was $15.  A friend who paid $10 copay for his monthly eye drops, now pays $40.00 a month, or $480.00 a year. What seemed like a godsend when we signed up is now a costly nuisance. Fortunately we can afford these charges, as much as we dislike them, but I feel sorry for the person on a pension who suddenly finds out he or she has to pay $30 more a month for eye drops which they need to keep from going blind. United Health Care is greedy and disgusting.

"My country tis of thee...."

I have never understood why Hollywood has never made a movie about one of the greatest and proudest moments in American history. Since the Academy Awards are under fire for being so white, this would be the year to do a film about this great event. When the world-famous American contralto Marian Anderson was invited to sing in still-segregated Washington D.C., Constitution Hall was considered the only venue large enough to accomodate the crowd that would wish to attend. But the hall was owned by the DAR who refused to allow a black singer to perform there. In outrage Eleanor Roosevelt, our greatest first lady, immediately gave up her  membership in the DAR, and along with other civic leaders, helped to arrange a concert for Miss Anderson at the Lincoln Memorial. Thus on Easter Sunday, April 9, 1939, Marian Anderson, beginning with the song "America" gave a spectacular concert to an audience of 75,000 and made musical, and social, history. Imagine how exciting a recreation of that amazing day would be on film.

THE HIGH COST OF NOT HAVING BENCHES.

I don't know about other cities, but Miami seems to have some kind of thing against benches. At almost every major store I visit there are no outside benches, no place to sit. I have asked the managers why. Usually they have no idea, but they guess it has something to do with the homeless or indigents sleeping in front of their stores. This seems specious since many of these outlets are in malls far from downtown. Plus, many of today's benches are partitioned to prevent anyone lying down. Forgetting all the excuses, I think not having benches is costing these stores money. Why? Because often when a couple is shopping, one of them tires quickly. If there were a bench the impatient partner could sit outside, read, talk on their phone, or chat with a fellow non-shopper while their spouse or friend continues spending money inside. But since there isn't a bench,  they're more likely to rush the other person along before they have spent all the money they would have spent if they'd been allowed more time to shop. Thus the store loses money every day since this is not a rarity.  I see this kind of carping all the time. I do it myself when I am shopping with friends. Now I could probably sit in some corner of the store, but then I would have to listen to the crappy music that's usually playing. Whereas if I could wait outside on a bench in the Florida sunshine enjoying quiet people watching, my friends could shop as long they like.

BOTTLES, BOTTLES EVERYWHERE.

One of the most polluting items in American today is the individual plastic water bottle. So I cannot understand why the pollution-weary people of Flint are not being provided with refillable gallon containers or large glass vats. Of course it's easier to deliver these thousands and thousands of indestructible bottles, each of which can barely get you through washing your hands and brushing your teeth. Which means that while trying to deal with one pollution problem, the city is creating another, and will soon have mountains of plastic bottles to remind them of just how screwed they are.

IT'S JUST A STATUE.

I don't understand all this fuss about the Academy Awards this year. Many actors are going to boycott the awards because they didn't honor excellent performances from black actors. The Academy Awards has never been fair. How can you even take seriously a group of people who gave The Greatest Show on Earth the best picture? The median age is 62, and most of the members probably didn't even see the films that were supposedly slighted. It's a popularity contest. Luise Rainer deserved the award for The Good Earth in 1937, but did she really earn it the year before in The Great Ziegfeld. No. The Oscar that Gregory Peck won for To Kill a Mockingbird probably should have gone to Peter O'Toole for Lawrence of Arabia. But it didn't. Boo hoo. There are hundreds of such stories. Undeserved winners. Fogotten stars. Favoritism among the Academy members is nothing new. So this year, take it on the chin. There are no blacks up for awards. But next year, who knows. I don't think it's spiteful or racist. It's just the way they voted, based on what they saw. Nobody knows how many black actors and films came close to being nominated, but were knocked out by the slimmest of margins. It's not worth making a federal case out of since it only smacks of sour grapes. Next year there will probably be another Glory, Lilies of the Field, The Defiant Ones, Ali, Hurricane, etc. If there is, nothing will make it seem like less of a honor than if one demands its recognition before it's even made. Not to mention that the awards has become a commercial heavy, long-winded bore.

Photo: Sidney Poitier accepts the 1963 award for Lilies of the Field. He also should have won for Raisin in the Sun, and several other films. But he didn't.  C'est la vie.

SECRETARY OF STATE?

You know that Jeb Bush is really stupid because he considers his war criminal brother an admirable human being. You know that Trump is really stupid because he's considers the inept quitter Sarah Palin worthy of a cabinet position. And you know Rafael Cruz is really stupid because he considers himself presidential. But the stupidest people of all are those gullible and unsophisticated morons who would vote for any one of these ninnies.

Note: In case you're wondering how anyone as vapid, vindictive and vile as Sarah Palin ever got anywhere, this photo should clear up that mystery.

IT BEARS REPEATING.

Hillary Clinton has been married once and is still married to the same man after 41 years. Donald Trump has been married three times. Twice to foreigners (so much for his love of Americans) and once to the woman he was cheating with on the first wife. While it's true that his children and ex-wives speak well of him, I'm not surprised. If I were in Donald's will, I would be praising him, too. While he loves to attack the Clintons' marriage, keep in mind the Clintons overcame problems and rose above them. Donald, it would seem, apparently quit at the first sign of boredom or the art of an erotic deal.

Note: I wonder how many of his other past wedding guests he's saying bitchy things about.

CAT AND DOGGEREL.

A boy and a girl
Who were total strangers
Fell in love
Despite the dangers.

She felt that love
Made her a queen;
He felt it made him a hero.
They scaled heights
That few can reach,
But soon were back to zero.

They were like a dog and cat.
He needed constant love.
And though she needed care,
She needed lots of time alone.
And he was always there.

As a man and woman
They're now estranged.
Both their lives
Are rearranged.

She thinks the break
Was all his fault.
He feels the fault
Was hers.

Now he has a dog
Who loves only him.
And when she strokes her cat
It purrs.

IF ONLY...

This week on Real Time with Bill Maher, the interview guest was Al Gore. I am delighted that Bill Maher introduced him as the 43rd President of the United States, which is what he was. There is no question that the presidency was stolen from him with the help of political thugs, Governor Jeb Bush, and the collusion of the Supreme Court. Sadly it was much more than a theft. It had terrible consequences. Because if Gore had served as president, we never would have gone to Iraq, those thousands of young Americans wouldn't have died in Iraq, nor would all those innocent civilians who would probably still be living under Saddam's rule, we would have made greater strides in combating global warming, and terrorists groups like ISIS would never have gotten the foothold nor the weapons nor the vehicles nor the hatred that was made possible by George Bush. And I don't doubt that Al Gore, a man of brilliance and character would have left behind an eight-year legacy of major and lasting accomplishments.

"Do I look like I care?"

Image is everything. Take Ted Cruz.  He's that everyman running around the Midwest in jeans and plaid shirts. Of course his name isn't Ted. It's Rafael. And he really isn't an everyman since every man doesn't graduate from Princeton University and go on to the Harvard Law School. Every man doesn't have a wife who was a higher up in Goldman, Sachs and  Company. And it isn't every man that gets to work with George Bush to help steal the presidency from Al Gore.  Rafael's wife, Heidi also did her part for that gang of war criminals by working in the White House for Condoleeza Rice. And while Rafael is proud to drag out his two daughters to make smarmy remarks about president Obama, he never mentions his own parents. I'm sure they were lovely people even though they were both married twice. And unlike Rubio's parents they were not among the hard-working poor, but highly educated. In fact Rafael had two half sisters: Roxanna and Miriam. Sadly Miriam had several brushes with the law for theft and public intoxication and died of a prescription drug overdose. None of this is anything to be ashamed of, of course, unless you're trying to convince that average Americans that you, too, are an average American. In which case you might just as well ditch the jeans, which look dopey on you anyway, and instead of those tacky plaid shirts, wear a very expensive figure-flattering suit which you can easily afford.

NOT ENOUGH ABOUT HIM.

I recently bought a book on my kindle because I was in a hurry to choose something and thought this Hollywood bio might have some good gossip. The book was But Enough About Me by Burt Reynolds. I was never a fan of his kind of movies and always assumed he was an arrogant and vain mutli-married macho boor. Boy was I wrong. The book is charming, endlessly interesting, and more about all the people he liked than about him.  He praises such famous people as Bette Davis (a close friend) Dinah Shore (the love of his life) Roy Rogers, Jim Brown, Dolly Parton, Goldie Hawn, Sally Field, Marcello Mastroianni, the stuntmen he's worked with and admired, and many others. Even those celebrities he didn't like (such as Racquel Welch)  are still praised for their talents if not their character.  And I doubt he ever had a problem with anyone's race or sexual preference. He was candid enough to admit that posing nude for Cosmo was a mistake, especially right after the praise he received for Deliverance.  He also admitted he starred in Boogie Nights reluctantly, while still praising the director and cast. As Spencer Tracy said to Katharine Hepburn in Desk Set, "Never assume." So while this is essentially light reading, it came as a great lesson to me. I will certainly try in the future not to typecast a person before I know more about them.. Who ever thought I'd become a Burt Reynolds fan?

Note: So many rags today delight in showing celebrities when they are old. Let's recall how Burt (who is 80) looked and still looks in many of his movies.

"He shouldn't have won. I hate, hate, hate him."

Paul Ryan had a chance to prove he's not the spoiled, arrogant, biased shit I think he is, but he blew it. During the President's speech he sat stony faced, remote, unsmiling, a sour-faced poor sport. What is it with these Republicans? Don't they have any feelings? Any sense of fair play? They are all like seven-year-olds who lost a game of stick ball. As usual the President's speech was brilliant, beautifully delivered and full of hope. Now if there's anything Republicans hate, it's hope. Unless they hope to take  food from the hungry, shelter from the homeless, and hope they get the chance to kowtow at the feet of the Koch brothers(although I like how THE RUDE PUNDIT says it even more). And they keep grinding out new robots like Ryan. Cold, selfish, full of false Christianity. And to think this heartless creature nearly was Vice President!

NOTE:If I didn't think he was traitorous enough, today he said "Obama's State of the Union degrades the presidency." There seems to be no depth to which these slimey Republicans will no sink.

Not as nice as they pretend.

Consumer Cellular pretends to be so consumer friendly, but they're not. True they have simple phones and their rates are lower than most. They're ideal for me, who only wants to send and receive calls. But after one year, the battery needs replacing. They don't replace it. And, it seems, neither does anyone else. When I complained about this, their indiscreet operator said "We don't want to replace the battery. We want you to buy a new phone." This seems like an odd goal for a company that depends a great deal on the goodwill of seniors, who may not be able to afford a new phone every 12 months. But that's the way our greedy world: planned obsolescence. Everyone says "Get a smart phone." But I don't want to be that person who is constantly looking at phone and ignoring everything around him.

RICKY TICKY TACKY

I admire Ricky Gervais because he's a versatile, talented actor, defender of animals and an outspoken atheist. I don't like him because he's a nasty, bitchy, cheap-shot queen.  No question that he's incredibly witty and facile, but his humor is more sadistic than even sardonic. Fortunately for him he was born in the right time when acts like his are accepted and rewarded. Forty years ago Gervais would have been a made-up and gowned emcee for a drag club in Greenwich Village.

YUCK!

DOUBLE YUCK!

A NATIONAL ILLNESS.

Broadcast news is shallow, lazy, and irresponsible. Nowhere is this more evident than in their coverage of the Power Ball Lotto. Leading up to the drawings there are cheery reports as to how fast tickets are selling, and personal interviews with buyers telling us the wonderful things they will do if they win. The news delights in showing long lines of people clutching their cash, hopeful smiles on their faces. What they don't mention or cover are the number of those people in those lines who are spending the rent money, cash that could be used for their children, money they should be saving for the future. All in the hopes that they will be that one person in 292 million who wins, at latest count, a billion dollars. (Who on this earth needs a billion dollars?) You might as well show people walking up to a seaside cliff and tossing their money into the ocean. For the past several drawings there has been no winner, which should show these gullible dreamers how futile lotteries are. Eventually somebody will win, and more than likely be crushed by the burden of dealing with so much money, so many pleading friends and bitter enemies, possible threats, and the horrible realization they are not that much happier. But this isn't something the news ever reports on. It's too real, too disturbing. So you'll see giddy anchors gleefully reporting the latest lottery figures. Meanwhile in homes all over America millions of people will be looking at little pieces of paper whose numbers are nothing like the that of winning draw and wishing that the hadn't thrown away so much money on an impossible dream.

What does this man do that you probably don't?

A constant mystery to me is why Americans don't or can't pronounce their T's. Everyone says innanet, innaview, innastate, Atlannic, Atlanna, fannasy, authennic, inneresting, and Sanna Clause which are just some of the hundred of words with interior  T's that go unpronounced. I can accept that ordinary American might fall into this bad habit, but it's epidemic. Even television reporters and anchor persons fail to pronounce their T's. Why? Did a dictate come down from Washington or Harvard that I don't know about, telling everyone it is no longer necessary to pronounce words correctly? "Just say it the way you feel comfortable." It probably doesn't bother anyone reading this. Or maybe you haven't even noticed. But it drives me mad. You would think television personalities who make a more than a million dollars a year would spend some time and effort working on their diction. But since nobody cares, nobody bothers. And if you want to hear how nice correct diction sounds, tune into Forensic Files. Their announcer, Peter Thomas, always pronounces his T's, and it sounds great.

DADDY DEAREST.

Rafael Cruz has once again proven his is not qualified to be president or maybe even a father.  In a recent speech he said, "Voters should spank Hillary Clinton like I spank my 5-year-old." In that moronic statement he revealed a lot about his lousy character. One, and most offensive, is that he spanks a 5-year-old child. He says he does it when she doesn't tell the truth. This from a veteran liar. We have already seen his young daughters used as pawns in a TV commercial, so we can imagine the control he exerts in his household. Two. By suggesting that Hillary be spanked, he is reducing a woman with an incredible resume to a naughty girl, which is probably how he sees all successful women. I'm sure he would not advise spanking for a man. Hopefully the media will give this story wide coverage, so all of Cruz's gullible fans can see what a nasty man Rafael really is.

SIGNED, AN ANGRY CONSUMER.

There was a time I didn't believe in anonymous letters. To write one seemed dishonest, cowardly, deceitful. But I don't feel that way anymore. Why? Because people and companies no longer respond to letters. If you're lucky you might get an e-mail, but mostly not even that. I write a lot of letters. Among those who didn't answer when there was my return address were Starbucks, Amtrak, Reader's Digest, Time Magazine, and every major TV network. Which is odd since the letters were not always complaints, but often compliments or suggestions. So now those same recipients get anonymous letters since they don't reply anyway. That way I don't feel bad about not getting the impossible reply. Over the past decades I have gotten nice replies from polite people like Stephen Sondheim, Mary Rodgers, Lucie Arnaz, Marcia Davenport, Leona Helmsley, and others. It would seem like companies and celebrities are not interested in constructive criticism, or even being located considering how well hidden their addresses are. What a pity. There was a time when the public's feedback had a lot to do with a company's policies or a celebrity's image. But since they no longer respond, I think I'll just start venting any complaints I have here.

For instance: My Medica Healthcare Plan seemed wonderful a year ago when I enrolled. Few copays, no referrals, easy to reach. Now, only a year later outrageous co-pays, referrals, and trying to reach them on the phone could increase anyone's blood pressure. Hmm. This should work out fine.

MR. CELLOPHANE

Poor Jeb! Bush. He's such a loser in every way. He's awkward, goofy, and so naive he doesn't even realize how hated his brother really is. Today in New Hampshire when asked to compare himself to Chris Christie, his first comment was, "Well I think I'm much better looking." Sadly even that isn't true. Christie isn't handsome, but he has presence, which Jeb doesn't have. If he is able to pull himself out of the also-running category, I will be very surprised. Like I say, poor Jeb!

THE GREAT PANTS MYSTERY.

I'm not ashamed to admit it. My leg length is 28". In department stores I often ask other men what their leg length is, and it's often 28" or 29" and sometimes less. When I lived in L.A. I noticed that many of the Mexicans were short in stature and often their feet didn't touch the floor on the city busses. Now none of this would be terribly interesting except for the fact that no clothing manufacturer makes 28" pants. Dockers and Wranglers finally caved in and sell 29" slacks and jeans. But still no 28". Why? They can't insist it's too rare size a to risk manufacturing. There's no good reason. And not having that choice means we of the shorter legs not only have to pay for the pants, but pay extra to have them shortened. This might have changed if I weren't the only person in America complaining. At least that's how it seems to be. Now I suppose I could find some suitable pants on the Internet, but I hate buying anything on the Internet.

ANOTHER SIGN OF HIS GREATNESS.

How low will the Republicans sink in their effort to vilify President Obama. During his recent speech on stricter gun controls, he began to tear up when referring to the Newtown massacre. In the past he has shown the same kind of passion for the 20 children who were murdered at Sandy Hook. It was a moving moment.  But not for many conservatives who are not touched by tragedy and, like robots, cannot understand those who are. Among the many conservatives seeing his tears as a weakness or  accusing him of being false in his sadness were Meghan McCain and Fox News witch Andrea Tantaros, two despicable harridans. No wonder Republicans have constantly fought against greater gun controls. Apparently when innocent people are slaughtered it doesn't affect them.

Note: When she first appeared Meghan McCain showed signs of being an admirable person. Sadly she is becoming another Liz Cheney.

Note: Thank you Trevor Noah for pointing out to Andrea Tantaros and other members of the Fox News crew just how creepy and shameful they are.

"Give me the simple life."

Today on the Internet is an article titled "Look at Wayne Gretzky's $8.2M Estate." I guess such articles are designed to inspire envy and admiration. But I always find them kind of sad. I wonder is that really what this person needs to be happy? They have fame and fortune, of course, but I feel like they haven't found the core of their contentment, not if they need a palatial home and endless luxuries to experience a sense of achievement. How much of it is for the resident, and how much is designed to impress visitors and guests, or readers of such articles on the Internet? Or worse how often is a lavish display of wealth designed to prove to oneself that he or she is successful and worthy. I say do it if it makes you happy, but does it? One is reminded of Warren Buffet, "The Wizard of Omaha" the most successful investor in the world and one of the world's richest men. Buffet, despite his fabulous wealth, still lives in the five-bedroom stucco home he bought in 1957 for $31,500. And every time I see him, he's smiling.

"Your call is important 
to us, please continue to hold."
That's the message that my Medica Healthcare Plan kept repeating today for twenty minutes until I gave up trying to reach them. There are few things in life more annoying that waiting on line having to listen to some god-awful music, interrupted every  few minutes by an assurance that your waiting is not in vain, when it is. I have found most health care plans start out generous and become ripoffs in not time at all. At the beginning, Medica charged a $15 co-pay for my medication. Now, only a year later it's $60, and that's also $60 for the generic. I'd like to know why. But that's unlikely since they seem to have a network of never-answered phones.

DOWNTON DOWNER

While  Series 6 of Downton Abbey was very good last night it had a really unpleasant beginning, at least for me. While I've come to like the characters on the series, I detest fox hunting and to see two of the leading characters, Lady Mary and Lord Grantham, engaged in this blood sport was disturbing. There's no question, of course, that the aristocrats hunted foxes until their dogs captured the defenseless animal and ripped it to pieces. Stlll it's disgusting, sadistic, and not something kind people do.

A LITTLE BITTER WHINING

One of the most annoying things about 2015 is that nobody was interested in staging my play The Gray List.I wouldn't be so annoyed if I hadn't seen ,or read about, so many mediocre plays that didn't have nearly as much to say. Here is just one short scene between the hero, screenwriter John Brooks, and his friend Grace Winston, a film noir star of the late 50s.

GRACE 

And why wasn’t I a bitch?  Because I was afraid that if I stepped on anyone, I’d be on my way back East.  Or worse,I'd be another Peg Entwistle. 

JOHN 

Who’s she?  Do I know Peg Entwhistle? 

GRACE 

Of course you do, John. Everybody in this town knows Peg Entwhistle because everybody in this town is Peg Entwistle. (Pause) She was the pretty blonde who was washed up at 24. She could have gone back home and created a new life. But instead, on the night of September 18, 1932, she hiked up Lee Canyon to the Hollywood sign  and climbed up a workman’s ladder to the top of the letter H. From there, she jumped  out of obscurity right into Hollywood legend. Peg Entwhistle. She showed everybody in this town how to make a grand exit. 

JOHN 

Well, you would never have been a Peg Entwhistle. You were, are, a real talent. (Pause) Besides, you’re afraid of heights. 

GRACE 

These days, Johnny, I’m afraid of everything. Flying. Getting old. Being alone.  Ending up in the Actor’s Home. 

PEOPLE I HOPE I DON'T SEE IN 2016

There are so many annoying people in the world. And we're all irritated by different types. Here are few of the people I detest. The man or woman on the bus who is drinking soda or coffee and eating some item when the sign clearly says NO EATING, DRINKING, OR SMOKING. Sorry I'm a rule follower and I don't like people who aren't. Also on the bus the moron who doesn't have ear buds so puts his phone or radio up to his ear so he can hear the music or ball game and the rest of us have to deal with a screechy static sound. There's always the person who stands too close to you in line. Equally annoying is the person in line who leaves a space of about six feet from everyone else making you have to stand behind them. The ditz who steps off the escalator and just stops dead creating a pile- up because they don't know where they are going. The merry band of friends and family who must travel along a city street arm in arm making it difficult for others to get by. The person on the cell phone talking too loud and as animatedly as if they were alone. The presumptuous stranger who says things like,"How about that game?" when you haven't a clue what he's talking about and couldn't care less. The female telemarketer who says, "Boy, Al you're a hard person to reach." as if she knew you. And finally  the most frequently annoying people: The couple making out in public. She to prove she's loved. He to prove he's straight. Those are just some of my pet annoyances. Expect more rants in the future.

Note: A good friend wrote to tell me the most irritating people he deals with are drivers. Since I have never learned to drive I seem to have avoided that particular annoyance.

DON'T OIL THAT SQUEAKY DOOR.

As a constant reader of true crime books and a fan of Forensic Files, I am stunned by the number of young women who are raped or murdered by someone who climbed through their bedroom window or entered through an unlocked door. I can't imagine why a woman, especially an attractive one living alone doesn't prepare for any such an attack. Especially when it's so easy. Not only would I lock the windows, but make sure that the sills had precipitiously placed breakable items making quiet entry impossible. Same for any entrance. Place a chair or lightweight table against the door with a big cheap vase that will come crashing down at the slightest attempt at in intrusion. If your front door squeaks all the better.  You'll find more helpful hints of this kind in the book How To Be or Not To Be Murdered written and illustrated by Pat Longan.

AT 25, GORGEOUS. AT 65, GROTESQUE.

I am amazed at the number of tattoos I see every day. Once upon a time, they were only on pseudo-macho men or ex-sailors. Now they are seen across all social lines: men, women, teens, lowbrow and highbrow. And it's no longer just an anchor or rose, but elaborate designs, Biblical quotes, multi-colored dragons and birds, tigers, snakes, Chinese symbols, and even company logos. And they are no longer on the arm or shoulder but on the face, feet, buttocks, fingers, etc. This sudden acceptance of body art doesn't offend me, but it does surprise me. I am fascinated that so many people are willing to commit to an indelible tattoo. It is like saying that you are willing to wear the same article of clothing every day for the rest of your life. Also getting older is always difficult. I think it would be depressing to have a design on your skin that is fresh and vital when you are young, but mocks you with its fading and wrinkled appearance as you age.

DAY ONE.

If ever a city should lose its taxi business to Uber, it's Miami. Calling a taxi in Miami is a hit or miss proposition. First all they have the crankiest, most unpleasant dispatchers. Amazingly it doesn't matter when you call, it always sounds like the same rushed and short-tempered woman. And what she tells you is almost never true. Last night, after a party in Coral Gables, the front desk clerk ordered us a cab that was supposed to arrive in 15 minutes. Twenty minutes later, nothing. A second call went unanswered. A third and fourth call resulted in busy signals. Forty minutes later, nothing. This is not unusual in Miami. I have had mostly bad experiences with Miami cab companies for thirty years. It was another hour before we could secure a cab on the street. We picked that up at a bus stop foolishly hoping Metro Transit planned some activity for New Year's Eve. Naturally they didn't. I say more power to Uber.