“All Things Must Pass” by George Harrison is featured today. What an excellent person and superior quality singer-songwriter-musician-Beatle.
“Don’t believe in Beatles.
Just Yoko and me. That’s reality.” (John Lennon)
Below: A Ranger fiddles while their season, and that of their fans, crashes and burns.
First of all I have to say that watching the Kings kick the crap out of the Rangers is another cause for celebration, n’est-ce pas? The only mild drag is the fact that it looks like there won’t be a sixth game meaning I’m gonna have to wait a good long while to be in New York and in Madison Square Garden to see karma exact its revenge on those ignorant jerks. That’ll teach them to throw me out of the Garden after I drove all the way down to New York, from Montreal, all by myself. Fuck them and the horse they rode in on. Right, Kathleen?
Now for some pictures of Betty Moscovitch, my girl friend Lee’s mom, who passed away on Sunday, June 8th, 2014, nearing the end of her 96th year. Not my girlfriend, folks, my girlfriend’s mother is the one who passed away. Better to wake up and die right rather than never to have woken up at all. In other words be aware of your alienation which, in itself, can help you avoid some of the negative consequences of being isolated and/or estranged in the first place.
Tribute to Betty
Betty was a regular riot, a real spark plug with a caustic and sharp sense of humour, as well as being extremely bright. She would tell people, upon being told that she looked ten years younger than the last time she had been seen by this particular person, that she had had plastic surgery. “Of course I look ten years younger, I just had a face-lift,” she would tell the person.
Betty behind the wheel: she never drove nor did she even have a driver’s license.
However, in inimical Betty Boop fashion, she wanted people to think that she knew how to drive. Why? Who knows?
Now for a change of pace:
Lee and I on our respective graduation days …
I never attended any grad ceremonies after grade 9 I think it was, when I won a scholarship – or was it at the end of Grade 8 – and with it a junior membership at Hillsdale at a cost to my father of fifty bucks. Better than me having to pay it, right.
In some summers I delivered the Gazette in the mornings and I recall one particular summer when I used to deliver 115 papers a day, six days a week, for 1/5 cent per paper (M to F) and 2/5 of a cent on Saturday plus tips. Let’s not forget those tips.
Lee and I were trying to decide if the pic below is of me or not. She said that that baby looked so cute, it must be me. Fancy that. Not ugly after all. So why did my students think I was ugly. Answer me that. Please. 🙂