![]() ![]() Rickles was who you especially needed in the sixties and seventies when no one trusted anyone over 30 (and with good reason) because he was A LOT over 30 and looked a lot older and was forcing us to laugh at the hypocrisy of it all with the kind of scorching benevolence only a master insult comic could get away with. Warmth – whatever you want to call him, he represented a breath of fresh honesty to me in a period of my youth where it felt like no one in the older generation was ever telling the truth. The Sultan of Insults, The Merchant of Venom, Mr. Time in this country (and probably elsewhere) is an inevitable and necessary period of change and torch passing – sometimes for the better and in other moments regressive – depending on where you’re sitting or whom and what one is remembering.Īll that being said, the passing of 90 year-old Don Rickles really did throw me for a loop this week. presidential politics in November 2008 at the end of the Bush era. One day it’s an orange tinged Hellion and the next it could be…anything, or anyone, else. ![]() The truth is, one does never know what’s waiting around the bend. No, this is not a new age, new version of a Hallmark card. So it’s not necessarily a bad thing to look back and appreciate them as long as we don’t fool ourselves into thinking we can ever recapture that precise moment of joy again in our present day or depress ourselves into believing some perhaps even better experiences don’t await us in the not too distant future. Aside from chocolate ice cream, pizza and the occasional well-marinated chicken breast or Portobello mushroom if we’re being careful and/or vegan. Still, our outlook and actions are really all we have. The one thing that seems clear – we can’t be objective. It depends on your mood and point of view at the time. Though it can also mean exactly the opposite. Everything seems funnier, smarter and more lovingly beautiful than it ever could have been. ![]() There is a wonderful absolutism in art and to looking back. I’ve quoted it before but, since it’s been a theme of my life, why not again: And then there’s Broadcast News, a perfectly prescient film of love and news, not necessarily in that order, which spoke to me via the sometimes too large chip that used to sit on my shoulder (Note: Used to?) when confronted with what I perceived to be idiocy and immorality in the workplace or in my personal life. ![]()
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