Groucho Marx said: "I've had a perfectly
wonderful evening, but this wasn't it."
Just like him, I have have
admittedly considered myself somewhat of a curmudgeon.. y'know, a sensitive and
soft-hearted guy with a distaste for mediocrity who hides vulnerability behind a
somewhat thin layer of misanthropy.
I can easily turn pain into humor while at the same time attack the shaggy-dog
phony because it devalues genuine sentiment.
My kind will hate that which is insincerely emotional such as hypocritical
expressions of sympathy, mushy effusiveness, a schmaltzy Puerto Rican love song
and definitely people who pretend to live their lives as a cheap sentimental
To my detriment, people think that I have no hair on my tongue as not having a
serviceable denial mechanism. Yet they consider me as endowed with a somewhat
astute perception and sly wit. For what it is worth, I thank each and everyone
of them. Yo, thanks!
Others think of me as a shooter whose discontent is a symptom rather than a
disease. Well, I happen to pride myself in the former while do admit of the
I want to consequently make clear that I will not compromise my standards and
WILL NOT manage the suspension of disbelief necessary for feigned cheerfulness,
even and foremost if my wife is present. Even my wife Ira thinks that my
awareness is a curse.
Then again I might have gotten a bad rap in the same way that the messenger is
blamed for the message: I do tend to have the temerity to comment on the human
condition without apology. Sorry, but that's just the way it is...
I continually refuse to applaud mediocrity, and if given the opportunity, will
howl it down vehemently with morose glee... as in "For crying out loud...!!!
Subsequently, my versions of the truth WILL disturb you, a fact that you might
still hold against me, even though I might soften it with humor. Hee hee!
For example: somebody EMAILED me a report that last year 4,153,237 people got
married. Shouldn't that be an EVEN number?