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.