pizza

Three Sentences…Again

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A  new, worst traffic enemy plagued me three times this past week. It is the car (removing all personality from this complaint) whose brake lights come on before the turn signal. New curse words were invented each time.

Streaming services have lost their collective minds as each time I look for a better one, their advertisements tout their “over 100 channel” line up. If someone watches two channels at a time (one for each eye), for one hour at a time, for 10 hours a day, in five days they will have viewed all the channels for which they paid over $100. If either of those two sentences make any sense to you…

My Late-life discovery of ear buds and “you tube” music videos continues to amaze. Every day in July I listened to parts of the April 2025 Madison Square Garden concert of The Brothers, an Allman Brothers legacy spinoff which includes two original members from 1975. Google “In Memory of Elizabeth Reed”, insert buds, recline, and enjoy.

My recent—and last—hip replacement surgery went as planned thanks to the brilliant Dr. Wickline and the exceptionally enjoyable Apex Surgery Center in Westmoreland, NY. The June 18 surgery was more than enjoyable, and almost fun. Makes me wonder what joint to replace in the future.

Local Trump supporters are getting a little antsy. Their “letters to the editor” have increased in volume but not in fact or relevance, and they are using the Trump trick of throwing stuff out to see what sticks. The saddest part of our entire political scene is neither party can see that with the current polarity, strict party affiliation means EVERYTHING “the other party” does is bad, even if it isn’t.

Trump recently posted angry words about a Gayle King. I’ve no idea who she is but I can’t help but wonder why he bashed her. One of the questions I ask Trump supporters is “Would you like Donald Trump to be a member of your own family?

Turning Stone Resort is a 24-hour casino/resort so last Sunday–after my 6 am fitness group–I went to the 24-hour restaurant for a hearty, healthy breakfast. Not much else was open and there were very few people (one of the reasons for going early) until I passed the Smoke Shop. Over 20 people were waiting in line for tobacco products.

The New York Yankees suck. The Yankees suck. The Yankees suck…this year.

It’s hard to know what to eat, these days. As I recover from cancer treatments the best way to build back one part of the body causes havoc with another part. How vitamins, minerals, proteins, iron, water, cherry juice, potassium, and pizza all work together is very confusing.

I purchased glasses on line for a lot less money than my local eye center wanted and the on-line company promised 24-hour customer service. When my order got lost by USPS, however, I was dropped into automated hell dealing with bots and phone trees leading to bots. The Ai future is here.

When will it all end?

What? Football season is here? Thank, God.

National What?

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Here it is the end of the middle of October, 2024, and the news finally reached me: it is National Pizza Month (NPM)! How’s that for for good news?

Sadly, October has been NPM since October 1984. First, smarter, better-read friends should have told me, and they’ll never be forgiven, unless they buy me a pizza. Second, the countless pizza places who have enjoyed my cheese and sauce on dough business have never mentioned it, either. NPM has been kept a better secret than the aliens in Roswell. Wonder if it was in the classified documents all our ex-presidents took home. It would have been Reagan, probably some of his damn trickle-down crap. But Bush, Clinton, and the rest, had to be involved in the cover-up.

Sadly, there is no personal benefit to NPM. I’ve asked. In fact, pepperoni slice prices are significantly higher, now, than 1984. Damn you Reagan, Bush, Clinton, Obama, Trump, and Biden for ignoring Pizza-nomics. In fact, the one pizza expert behind the counter I consulted, the one with the nose ring and tattoos, says he/she/them didn’t even know about the NPM honor. We’ll cut he/she/them some slack since they weren’t around for what must have been a national month of festivities in 1984. Hm. Wonder where I was?

But wait: there is a rumor about something significant on February 9th. Oh, yeah, that is National Pizza Pie Day (NPPD). That day somehow became the NPPD in 2000. No one knows why. For fun, Google says “the day recognizes the cultural significance of the beloved dish leading to moments of indulgence and enjoyment”. If you’re wondering, I had nothing to do with it, but I have entered it into my phone calendar. Next year…

Is there more? A deep dive (pizza) in the world of National Days yields another pizza-specific gem: National Cheese Pizza Day (NCPD) on September 5. More? Yes, please! National Pepperoni Pizza Day (NPPD) on September 20.

That’s it, right? Nope. Lets not forget National Sausage Pizza day (NSPD) on October 11. And (possibly) for you nerds, out there, National Pi Day (NPiD) on March 14th. Haven’t learned if that is pizza or math pi(e), but it sounds like it belongs in this discussion.

Research is ongoing about possible deals or benefits from NPM, NPD, NpiD, NSPD, NPPD, and NCPD so I’ll keep you updated.

And I will be founding National Buffalo Chicken Pizza Day (NBCPD) right after my petition for National Breakfast Pizza Day (NBPD) is submitted to whatever organization (National Organization of Pizza Enjoyers? NOPE?) designates the days of celebration.

For those of us who enjoy pizza, that’s every day.

Problems, if anyone cares

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My new favorite spot is The Turning Stone Resort and Casino, ten miles down the road. It has a beautiful fitness center with a pool on the third floor of the resort’s Tower Hotel. Since moving back to New York, I swim three times a week and then stumble down to the casino floor to sacrifice $5 each Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. For “fun”.

The Problem is I’m not losing. It’s hard to lose big on penny slot machines at 50 cents a play, but for years in the past, when an infrequent out-of-state visitor, as soon as the $5 was gone, my casino day was done. But now, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, the inscrutable Asian/Japanese slot machine closest to my walk to my car, who’s directions I can’t read, with the big, comfortable seat, has decided to do something different. It has paid about $15 a day, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, after two or three 50 cent bets. And I cash out. Am I being set-up? On candid Camera? Being Punk’d? Should I stay longer? Play more? Bet more?

There’s an elevator in my beautiful apartment building where I live in my beautiful apartment on the second floor. My Problem is every time I take the elevator, either up or down, some one always tries to get on before they see I am trying to get off. Like the elevator is their personal conveyance. I’ve ridden elevators all over the world and never saw this type of behavior anywhere else. At least I don’t remember. And why hasn’t this happened with the beautiful, too-young-for-me blond from the third floor?

I park my car away from other cars-if possible-when visiting hospitals, etc. Three times in the short 3 months I’ve been back in NY, someone else has parked so close to my driver side door my entry was impossible. Again, I’ve parked all over the world and never seen it as bad as here, in upstate NY. (I have pictures.) So, my Problem is not really how to get into my car, but how much damage to inflict on the stupid vehicle next to me. Last time, last week, I emptied a water bottle in the front seat through a cracked open window. Banging into the new plastic doors of some of these new cars doesn’t do anything, these days. Hm. Bet the seat dried before the stupid driver got back.

One last Problem, promise: Buffalo Chicken Pizza. $4 for a one large slice, or $28 for an 18 inch pizza with 6 large slices? The Real Problem? There is nothing like hot, fresh pizza of any flavor. But an 18 inch would take a few days to eat, leaving the last few slices to be cold, reheated, refrigerated pizza. But it’s there, ready, anytime. Not ordering, driving…um…this might take some time.