The wrong people seem to keep on winning so far, but losing is not an option.
Published: Wednesday, November 04, 2015 9:49 AM
To be Jewish and a New Yorker, Sunday was not our best day. In football, the Giants played their most perfect game, and still lost.
Even Eli Manning on his best day wasn’t good enough.
“That’s so unfair,” cried Broadway Lenny over the phone. “What happened to justice?”
There is no justice when the wrong people keep winning.
On top of that, same day, in baseball our beloved Mets got wiped out from the World Series. Some team from Kansas City did this to us.
“Kansas City?” wept Sol, another caller. “Where’s that?”
People keep calling me to cheer them up. On this day, wrong number. So it’s Janice on the phone.
“Another stabbing in Israel,” she says exasperated and heartbroken. “What’s happening? When did this START?”
It begins in the neighborhood where small events present the big picture.
So here I am at the gas station to fill up on gas and it’s always new people, different people, unfriendly people in charge. Moe is long gone. These people came from Iraq or some place. No speak English. So the guy, the attendant, right away he comes out of the booth with a scowl.
He’s already at the pump. Refuses the courtesy of coming over to the driver’s side, my side, to ask what I want. That used to be expected and how it used to work back when America was America. Small thing, I know. But it’s a big thing. I refuse to budge. This is still my country, gawdammit!
Now here he comes, sullen and furious. “Fill?” Yes, I say. “Cash?” Yes, but already the culture clash here on the corner.
So that’s what’s happening.
The customer is always wrong and it’s up to us, the infidels, to accommodate them, even in New York and most likely even in Kansas.
The customer is always wrong and it’s up to us, the infidels, to accommodate them, even in New York and most likely even in Kansas.
It’s their world and we’re only visiting. Ask the Israelis. They were the first to be told to behave like strangers in their own country.
Ask the Israelis what it’s like to share a country with people who glare at you with the hate in their eyes and with the shine of their knives for a chance to stab you in the back. A heartless world doesn’t care even at the sight of a 70-year-old Israeli victim of Arab terror lying face down in his own pool of blood. Damn. Damn. Damn.
As for when did this start – I can give you time and place. The time: June 5, 1968. The place: LA and The Ambassador Hotel.
That’s when and where a Palestinian Arab named Sirhan Sirhan assassinated Robert Kennedy.
Sirhan Sirhan fired the first shot. Since then it’s been the nightmare of Islamic encroachment day and night…here and round the globe.
People didn’t think, people didn’t know that jihad had come, and come to stay. We were shaken but not convinced. 9/11 convinced us, not all of us, not nearly so. Rather than hide in shame, Islamists began to strut and multiply. They dared – and in Tennessee children who may not be taught the Bible are being taught the Koran.
Or as I have it fully exposed in this thriller here, “The Koran has arrived and it has come to devour the Bible.”
Now it’s Linda Shelnutt on the email. She is troubled by all this and wonders how she’ll be able to navigate as a writer amid so much darkness. She’ll do fine. Linda is a wonderful writer and so very spiritual but she fears the “negative forces” enveloping her and her world. What do I think?
See the man who runs our country and see the man who runs our town and wonder no more about negative vibes.
The wrong people run this place. People who don’t know Sinatra are taking over.
As for the darkness, terrible times begin with anti-Semitism and soon no one is spared.
Linda is a booster for Donald Trump. She quotes him saying, “We don’t win anything anymore.”
So true. But to quote Samuel Beckett, “I can’t go on. I’ll go on.” Chin up. Losing is not an option. We can only afford to win.
Even Eli Manning on his best day wasn’t good enough.
“That’s so unfair,” cried Broadway Lenny over the phone. “What happened to justice?”
There is no justice when the wrong people keep winning.
On top of that, same day, in baseball our beloved Mets got wiped out from the World Series. Some team from Kansas City did this to us.
“Kansas City?” wept Sol, another caller. “Where’s that?”
People keep calling me to cheer them up. On this day, wrong number. So it’s Janice on the phone.
“Another stabbing in Israel,” she says exasperated and heartbroken. “What’s happening? When did this START?”
It begins in the neighborhood where small events present the big picture.
So here I am at the gas station to fill up on gas and it’s always new people, different people, unfriendly people in charge. Moe is long gone. These people came from Iraq or some place. No speak English. So the guy, the attendant, right away he comes out of the booth with a scowl.
He’s already at the pump. Refuses the courtesy of coming over to the driver’s side, my side, to ask what I want. That used to be expected and how it used to work back when America was America. Small thing, I know. But it’s a big thing. I refuse to budge. This is still my country, gawdammit!
Now here he comes, sullen and furious. “Fill?” Yes, I say. “Cash?” Yes, but already the culture clash here on the corner.
So that’s what’s happening.
The customer is always wrong and it’s up to us, the infidels, to accommodate them, even in New York and most likely even in Kansas.
The customer is always wrong and it’s up to us, the infidels, to accommodate them, even in New York and most likely even in Kansas.It’s their world and we’re only visiting. Ask the Israelis. They were the first to be told to behave like strangers in their own country.
Ask the Israelis what it’s like to share a country with people who glare at you with the hate in their eyes and with the shine of their knives for a chance to stab you in the back. A heartless world doesn’t care even at the sight of a 70-year-old Israeli victim of Arab terror lying face down in his own pool of blood. Damn. Damn. Damn.
As for when did this start – I can give you time and place. The time: June 5, 1968. The place: LA and The Ambassador Hotel.
That’s when and where a Palestinian Arab named Sirhan Sirhan assassinated Robert Kennedy.
Sirhan Sirhan fired the first shot. Since then it’s been the nightmare of Islamic encroachment day and night…here and round the globe.
People didn’t think, people didn’t know that jihad had come, and come to stay. We were shaken but not convinced. 9/11 convinced us, not all of us, not nearly so. Rather than hide in shame, Islamists began to strut and multiply. They dared – and in Tennessee children who may not be taught the Bible are being taught the Koran.
Or as I have it fully exposed in this thriller here, “The Koran has arrived and it has come to devour the Bible.”
Now it’s Linda Shelnutt on the email. She is troubled by all this and wonders how she’ll be able to navigate as a writer amid so much darkness. She’ll do fine. Linda is a wonderful writer and so very spiritual but she fears the “negative forces” enveloping her and her world. What do I think?
See the man who runs our country and see the man who runs our town and wonder no more about negative vibes.
The wrong people run this place. People who don’t know Sinatra are taking over.
As for the darkness, terrible times begin with anti-Semitism and soon no one is spared.
Linda is a booster for Donald Trump. She quotes him saying, “We don’t win anything anymore.”
So true. But to quote Samuel Beckett, “I can’t go on. I’ll go on.” Chin up. Losing is not an option. We can only afford to win.
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