
DAWN OF TONETHBONE
I write mostly about life with my dear hubby Pete, love, friends, and family. I also occasionally dwell on humor, politics, gay issues, the stock market and show business.
If...after reading my profile, you feel you want to be part of my journal commmunity...and that we might have something in common..drop a comment here, and I will be gald to add you to my friends list and share my life with you. I hope that you are an active blogger, like myself. Blogging for me is about sharing. But, either way...you are welcome.
I usually respond to requests promptly
Here is some more background... from my profile,.
Additionally...while this journal is largely "Friends Only"...I leave a handful of posts as public entries...so that people can sample my writing. Posts...which change from time to time
Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
'My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away."
The last time Bruce Springsteen sweated on me at a concert (that was a long time ago, folks), I didn't wash my arm for a month. The last time I stepped into a Walmart, I bathed three times a day...for a month straight.
OK. OK. So not all Walmart stores are dumps, but quite a few of them ARE. They're soulless, uninspiring environments packed with so many mutants that the People of Walmart Website can't possibly keep up with all the content it receives fast enough.
Now...this doesn't mean that you're a loser if you shop at Walmart. It's just that...a lot of "A"'s shop there
A's are losers
B's are not losers (like you and me)
Both A's and B's shop at Walmart
Therefore not all Walmart shoppers are losers
Q.E.D. (quod erat demonstrandum)
See?
Picking on Walmart has become a national pastime (not to mention the most accurate set of stereotypes ever perpetuated). It's all fun and games until somebody gets offended or a greeter gets trampled by a mob of holiday shoppers.

So what's my beef?
Simply stated...you shouldn't be able to buy classy, white, shiny, new Apple products at a discount at Walmart.
It's ungodly. It's un-Steve Jobsey. It's a joke And, ultimately, the joke's on Apple.
Throw all of these big box retailers into a pile -- Walmart, Best Buy, and the somewhat more tolerable Target. They'll sell just about anything (unless, of course, it has offensive lyrics) if there's a chance you'll buy it.
But why would classy, white Apple want to be a part of this on any level?
Because the class (and heart and soul) of Apple...is fast fading under Tim Cook
It's now Samsung that has people excited.
The new iPhones are boring.Truly boring
A 50 point stock price drop in one day says they are.
It's gotten so that when I do my weekly run ...to give away free Smartphones to the poor and homeless, who gather, with cardboard signs on their chest, on the exit ramp on 400 South, exit 7...I give them Samsung Galaxy IV's...and not iPhones .
And...product-life reality has set in. Like all of technology, after the honeymoon of shock and awe are over, it's a race to the bottom. Clearly smartphones aren't "special" anymore. It wouldn't surprise me in the least that one could buy an iPhone at Best Buy in the morning and another at Wal-Mart later in the day and have the SAME person working two jobs ringing up the sale.
But...given the possibility that an A-type may have bought and returned the phone...I don't even want to touch the new Walmart-discounted iPhones
One more thing..
Yeah..I know, I know...
Some of you probably think that the guy on the left is "very hot".
Hey...bless his soul.
Bear Community inclusion..that's what I always say
OK. OK. So not all Walmart stores are dumps, but quite a few of them ARE. They're soulless, uninspiring environments packed with so many mutants that the People of Walmart Website can't possibly keep up with all the content it receives fast enough.
Now...this doesn't mean that you're a loser if you shop at Walmart. It's just that...a lot of "A"'s shop there
A's are losers
B's are not losers (like you and me)
Both A's and B's shop at Walmart
Therefore not all Walmart shoppers are losers
Q.E.D. (quod erat demonstrandum)
See?
Picking on Walmart has become a national pastime (not to mention the most accurate set of stereotypes ever perpetuated). It's all fun and games until somebody gets offended or a greeter gets trampled by a mob of holiday shoppers.
So what's my beef?
Simply stated...you shouldn't be able to buy classy, white, shiny, new Apple products at a discount at Walmart.
It's ungodly. It's un-Steve Jobsey. It's a joke And, ultimately, the joke's on Apple.
Throw all of these big box retailers into a pile -- Walmart, Best Buy, and the somewhat more tolerable Target. They'll sell just about anything (unless, of course, it has offensive lyrics) if there's a chance you'll buy it.
But why would classy, white Apple want to be a part of this on any level?
Because the class (and heart and soul) of Apple...is fast fading under Tim Cook
It's now Samsung that has people excited.
The new iPhones are boring.Truly boring
A 50 point stock price drop in one day says they are.
It's gotten so that when I do my weekly run ...to give away free Smartphones to the poor and homeless, who gather, with cardboard signs on their chest, on the exit ramp on 400 South, exit 7...I give them Samsung Galaxy IV's...and not iPhones .
And...product-life reality has set in. Like all of technology, after the honeymoon of shock and awe are over, it's a race to the bottom. Clearly smartphones aren't "special" anymore. It wouldn't surprise me in the least that one could buy an iPhone at Best Buy in the morning and another at Wal-Mart later in the day and have the SAME person working two jobs ringing up the sale.
But...given the possibility that an A-type may have bought and returned the phone...I don't even want to touch the new Walmart-discounted iPhones
One more thing..
Yeah..I know, I know...
Some of you probably think that the guy on the left is "very hot".
Hey...bless his soul.
Bear Community inclusion..that's what I always say
For Marty (Fat Baby Arthur)...who passed on earlier this week...
In the restaurant area of that landmark Jewish delicatessen, the lady at the next table had been staring at me. She finally leaned over and, as if telling me a secret that my table companions were not supposed to hear, and she whispered:
"Jewish boy?"
"No m'am. I am not"
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure"
"Just a little... maybe?"
"Nope. Sorry, but I'm not Jewish"
"You're telling me the truth, right?"
I smile...Well, why not, I say to myself
"OK OK I admit it. I'm Jewish"
"I thought you might be. Funny, though..you don't look Jewish"
I turned to my friends...and I smiled
Several years ago at Al's Deli on Broadway in Astoria, Queens, four friends and I sat at a table, just as we did many, many summers ago, right after bowling or right after two "B" movies in the sweat infested seats of the Strand movie theater. They were summers of Mickey Mantle and Willie Mays and Duke Snider and Jackie Robinson...and we were the boys of summer.
Al, the original owner of the Deli, had long since passed away, but there was a new Al with a bald and shiny head that reflected, like a mirror, the overcounter spotlights. The "new" Al brought out our order of
five potato knishes,
five kosher hot dogs with Jewish mustard and sauerkraut.
five hot-pastrami-on-rye sandwiches.
There was more food than we could possibly eat, but, for old times sake, we all felt that we had to order this combination. For drinks...we had the Celery soda.
Sitting at this table, in addition to myself, were Allan Katz and Paul Rosenstein and Jerry Feldman and Marty Blayer. The occasion of our get-together was my visit to New York City and Paul's return from California for a business meeting. One of our friends, Seymour couldn't make it...which was a shame because, as Allan said, we all wanted to see more of Seymour
These wonderful people were my childhood friends, and we were together again..Four Jews and a gentile, Siciliano-Napolitano...who just happened to be gay. It was the last time were all together, But, thanks to phone and to Facebook, we keep in touch.
In my teen years these friends would help reshape my life, strip away a bit of my Italian heritage (just a bit) and, by example, make it possible for me to be here today. I was the lone Christian, Italian boy...growing up in a largely Jewish neighborhood. My family was struggling financially, and I was under great internal pressure to quit high school and to get a job.
The top priority of my family was immediate financial survival..The top priority of my Jewish friends was to get educated...to move on to college and to become a success in life
No other thing influenced me more in my early life than my peer, Jewish friends. The fierce sports competition that all boys have, was supplemented. in my case, in with an equally fierce academic competition.
I studied hard and pushed myself harder. I graduated with honors from high school..got a scholarship to college....and moved onto a successful career. All of this probably would not have happened without the influence of the gentlemen seated at the table, that day, at Al's Deli.
Allan Katz called me a few days ago and told me that Marty's health was "not good", and the long term outlook did not look good, either In the old days, Marty was called: FatBaby Arthur. I haven't a clue as to why he was called FatBaby Arthur...but that is what everyone called him. It is one of those things kids do. I was called "Mouse"...supposedly because, when I smiled, my big, two front teeth made me look like a ....mouse.
One Saturday, Marty took me to Manhattan, on the lower east side, and he introduced me to Yonah Shimmel's Knish bakery and Yonah's world famous knishes...knishes with Jewish mustard and a side of pickles and giant French Fries. As far as eating goes, it rarely gets any better than these simple treats.
They still make the world-famous knishes at Shimmel's. Some people say that they are not as good as in the old days...but you will never convince me of that. Schimmels is a totem, a
symbol of what was, a symbol of the world of our fathers. The well-worn front stoop and ancient woodwork inside, with tens of layers of bad paint, attest to a staying power of the food served here
Right now, I would give anything to be sitting at a Shimmels table with Allan and Paul and Mike and FatBaby Arthur
I'm thinking I will make some knishes for Pete this week... It's a lot of work, and they will never taste like a Yonah Shimmel knish, but Pete has never tasted one. And maybe I'll make some hot pastrami sandwiches too. As I hold up my knish to bite into it, I will think about "FatBaby" ...and the rest of the guys at Al's Deli.
Hey guys...
If I could be with you one hour tonight,
If I was free to do the things I might,
I'm telling you true, I'd be anything but blue,
If I could be... with you.
Cross-posted to/from http://tonethbone.dreamwidth.org..
In the restaurant area of that landmark Jewish delicatessen, the lady at the next table had been staring at me. She finally leaned over and, as if telling me a secret that my table companions were not supposed to hear, and she whispered:
![]() |
"Jewish boy?"
"No m'am. I am not"
"Are you sure?"
"I'm sure"
"Just a little... maybe?"
"Nope. Sorry, but I'm not Jewish"
"You're telling me the truth, right?"
I smile...Well, why not, I say to myself
"OK OK I admit it. I'm Jewish"
"I thought you might be. Funny, though..you don't look Jewish"
I turned to my friends...and I smiled
Several years ago at Al's Deli on Broadway in Astoria, Queens, four friends and I sat at a table, just as we did many, many summers ago, right after bowling or right after two "B" movies in the sweat infested seats of the Strand movie theater. They were summers of Mickey Mantle and Willie Mays and Duke Snider and Jackie Robinson...and we were the boys of summer.
Al, the original owner of the Deli, had long since passed away, but there was a new Al with a bald and shiny head that reflected, like a mirror, the overcounter spotlights. The "new" Al brought out our order of
![]() |
There was more food than we could possibly eat, but, for old times sake, we all felt that we had to order this combination. For drinks...we had the Celery soda.
Sitting at this table, in addition to myself, were Allan Katz and Paul Rosenstein and Jerry Feldman and Marty Blayer. The occasion of our get-together was my visit to New York City and Paul's return from California for a business meeting. One of our friends, Seymour couldn't make it...which was a shame because, as Allan said, we all wanted to see more of Seymour
These wonderful people were my childhood friends, and we were together again..Four Jews and a gentile, Siciliano-Napolitano...who just happened to be gay. It was the last time were all together, But, thanks to phone and to Facebook, we keep in touch.
In my teen years these friends would help reshape my life, strip away a bit of my Italian heritage (just a bit) and, by example, make it possible for me to be here today. I was the lone Christian, Italian boy...growing up in a largely Jewish neighborhood. My family was struggling financially, and I was under great internal pressure to quit high school and to get a job.
The top priority of my family was immediate financial survival..The top priority of my Jewish friends was to get educated...to move on to college and to become a success in life
![]() |
No other thing influenced me more in my early life than my peer, Jewish friends. The fierce sports competition that all boys have, was supplemented. in my case, in with an equally fierce academic competition.
I studied hard and pushed myself harder. I graduated with honors from high school..got a scholarship to college....and moved onto a successful career. All of this probably would not have happened without the influence of the gentlemen seated at the table, that day, at Al's Deli.
Allan Katz called me a few days ago and told me that Marty's health was "not good", and the long term outlook did not look good, either In the old days, Marty was called: FatBaby Arthur. I haven't a clue as to why he was called FatBaby Arthur...but that is what everyone called him. It is one of those things kids do. I was called "Mouse"...supposedly because, when I smiled, my big, two front teeth made me look like a ....mouse.
One Saturday, Marty took me to Manhattan, on the lower east side, and he introduced me to Yonah Shimmel's Knish bakery and Yonah's world famous knishes...knishes with Jewish mustard and a side of pickles and giant French Fries. As far as eating goes, it rarely gets any better than these simple treats.
They still make the world-famous knishes at Shimmel's. Some people say that they are not as good as in the old days...but you will never convince me of that. Schimmels is a totem, a
Right now, I would give anything to be sitting at a Shimmels table with Allan and Paul and Mike and FatBaby Arthur
I'm thinking I will make some knishes for Pete this week... It's a lot of work, and they will never taste like a Yonah Shimmel knish, but Pete has never tasted one. And maybe I'll make some hot pastrami sandwiches too. As I hold up my knish to bite into it, I will think about "FatBaby" ...and the rest of the guys at Al's Deli.
![]() |
Hey guys...
If I could be with you one hour tonight,
If I was free to do the things I might,
I'm telling you true, I'd be anything but blue,
If I could be... with you.
Cross-posted to/from http://tonethbone.dreamwidth.org..
How I love to ride my Chevy
With my cub sitting by my side
My young cub...he loves the Chevy
With his daddy... he's filled with pride
Riding down the road on Sundays
'neath the blue, sunny Georgia sky
Oh ...what a fantastic treat
Power right at my feet
My Chevy, my cub ...and I

tonethbone and...Greased Lightning
tonethbone'S FIRST CAR:
1955 Chevy Bel Air...as shown
equipped with....
a trunk-load of 45 "records"
V8, Hydromatic, (p/s, p/b..what's that?)
New, "wrap-around" windshield,
Flashing, undercarriage, colored lights
Owner-installed back-up lights,
"Signal-seeking" AM radio, FM in cars?..are you kidding?
"Pre-latino era" pom-poms in rear window...
Rolled leather seats..
Rear ashtray compartment e/w "rubbers" (word "condom"... not invented yet)
Plastic statue of Jesus..glued to metal dash-board (padded dash...not invented yet)
St Christopher medal hanging from rear view mirror
"Twirler ball" on steering wheel
No keys required to start car
No safety belts (what are they?)
and...
One "Teenager in love"..... with white sox, greasy hair (enhanced with Vitalis), rolled up sleeves on white tee shirt
...and Pete? Not born yet
With my cub sitting by my side
My young cub...he loves the Chevy
With his daddy... he's filled with pride
Riding down the road on Sundays
'neath the blue, sunny Georgia sky
Oh ...what a fantastic treat
Power right at my feet
My Chevy, my cub ...and I

1955 Chevy Bel Air...as shown
equipped with....
a trunk-load of 45 "records"
V8, Hydromatic, (p/s, p/b..what's that?)
New, "wrap-around" windshield,
Flashing, undercarriage, colored lights
Owner-installed back-up lights,
"Signal-seeking" AM radio, FM in cars?..are you kidding?
"Pre-latino era" pom-poms in rear window...
Rolled leather seats..
Rear ashtray compartment e/w "rubbers" (word "condom"... not invented yet)
Plastic statue of Jesus..glued to metal dash-board (padded dash...not invented yet)
St Christopher medal hanging from rear view mirror
"Twirler ball" on steering wheel
No keys required to start car
No safety belts (what are they?)
and...
One "Teenager in love"..... with white sox, greasy hair (enhanced with Vitalis), rolled up sleeves on white tee shirt
...and Pete? Not born yet




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