Hey:
The walk from Penn Station to 47th Street was more tricky than usual on Saturday, what with the Women's Protest March taking place on 6th Avenue. I was of course walking against the flow of the march, more to the point, those who had already marched and were heading out of Manhattan.
Don't get me wrong, I'm glad they had the march. Again as I said last year it's going to have historical significance for years to come, and it's the perfect way to remind those in charge that the people still have the power.
But it was a hell of a commute. Thank goodness the weather was really nice for January.
January 20th of course, was chosen mainly because that was the day last year when our nation's 45th President was sworn in. Which means that those of you who predicted Trump would be kicked out of office within 12-18 months are officially on the clock as it were.
Speaking of President Trump......
***BOOK REVIEW***BOOK REVIEW***BOOK REVIEW***BOOK REVIEW***
Title: Fire and Fury:Inside the Trump White House
By: Michael Wolff
When Ross Perot made his Presidential run in 1992, my rational for not voting for him was that the last person who wanted to see a President Perot was, well, Ross Perot.
Think about it. On July 1, 1992, he was ahead of both President HW Bush and Governor Bill Clinton in most major polls. On July 16, he dropped out. He reentered the race in October, and when he started gaining traction, came up with some cock and bull story about his daughter's wedding being sabotaged, and his poll numbers fell. He ended up with 20% of the vote and some stories to tell his grandkids about.
Of all the reasons why I thought voting for Donald Trump last year wasn't a good idea, that was pretty close to the top. The idea that he was doing this for $h-tts and giggles, to go back to NY with his 150 or so Electoral Votes and brag to his buddies how he embarrassed the Republican party and gave Hillary Clinton a run for her money. Of all the people in the country, the world who thought President Donald Trump was a bad idea, nobody thought so more than the Donald himself.
According to Wolff's book this was exactly the scenario.
As the campaign came to an end, Trump himself was sanguine. His ultimate goal, after all, had never been to win. “I can be the most famous man in the world,” he had told his aide Sam Nunberg at the outset of the race. His longtime friend Roger Ailes, the former head of Fox News, liked to say that if you want a career in television, first run for president. Now Trump, encouraged by Ailes, was floating rumors about a Trump network. It was a great future. He would come out of this campaign, Trump assured Ailes, with a far more powerful brand and untold opportunities.
“This is bigger than I ever dreamed of,” he told Ailes a week before the election. “I don’t think about losing, because it isn’t losing. We’ve totally won.”-
That brings to mind the great Mike "Cubby"Sanfillipo's attitude towards the casino's of Atlantic City. "If we win, we win. If we lose we still win. We can't lose!"But according to Wolff, or according to Donald Trump Jr, when it started to look as though his father was going to pull this off, he looked he he had "seen a ghost." Melania Trump was crying, and not as Wolff points out "tears of joy."
But Trump being Trump, of course instead of hopping on his plane, flying away to points unknown and leaving someone else to clean up this mess, convinced himself that he could be President, indeed that he should be President. And in his own bizarre way, developed a sort of Team of Rivals like what Abraham Lincoln had during the Civil War. He essentially had three chiefs of staff. Reince Preibus the GOP Chairman was the official chief of staff and represented the standard Republican Party. Steve Bannon, the former head of Breitbart who had taken over Trump's campaign, represented the alt-right faction, the border wall, the Muslim ban and whatnot.
Then there was the third faction led by Ivanka Trump and her husband Jared Kushner, or as Bannon refered to them Jarvanka (amongst the more polite things Sloppy Steve called them). They represented the faction that tried to appeal to the more liberal side of things.
Of course as is made abundantly clear in this book, Trump is no Abe Lincoln. He's not even Abe Frohman (the sausage king of Chicago). What he is, by all accounts is that relative every family has, the one who watches cable news all day, that spouts off about it at family gatherings.
There has been some question as to how Wolff was able to source his material, but even if this ends up in the fiction section, it was a hard book to put down.
4 Auggies.
The official coroner's report came out on the death of Tom Petty this week. It concluded that Petty died of an accidental overdose of painkillers, having broken his hip while on tour. A big Tom Petty fan, I was obviously crushed when I heard of his passing, but 67 is also a pretty full life for a rock star.
Dolores O'Riordan though? That was just a shame. One of the most talented and underrated musicians I have ever seen. And the fact that she was only a couple years older than me hit home even harder. I'm still reeling over this one.
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Last but not least.....
When Tara's dad passed away in October, one of the comforts that I took were from the people who took a few seconds to write me a quick note on Facebook, sending their condolences, good thoughts and prayers. I realize that little things like that can carry a whole bunch of weight.
And yet, when I saw the posts this week remembering Karl Ludwig Sr., I didn't click the sad face or write anything. A blurb on social media couldn't justify the feelings I had upon hearing this news.
As teens and into our 20's, Ray and I felt like we were the 5th and 6th Ludwig boys. I know we're not the only guys who felt that way, as anybody Kevin, Kris and Keith were buddies with probably had that same sense, but as Karl (the Ace's) two best buds, I know I can safely speak for Ray in that regard.
We spent many a day and night playing board games, watching TV and generally BS'ing all at 50-28 64th Street. Not to mention the New Years Eve's sharing the big guy's braunschweiger (probably to his chagrin) as we watched the ball drop followed by a game of touch football post midnight. (The Toilet Bowl we called it).
Those were the best times, really the happiest of times, times I can only hope that our own kids will talk about when they get to be our age.
Big Karl was an American original no question about it. A Navy veteran, and a retired NY police officer. There are a number of books and movies you can read and watch that will show just how much fun being a cop in New York City during the 1970's was. Anybody who held that job during those rough years qualifies in my book as a hero. And sure enough, the first time I met the big guy was when he came to tell us all about being a cop when Ace, Ray and I were in kindergarten together. For a brieif time after that, I told anyone who would listen that I wanted to be a police officer. That was until I decided I wanted to be President of the United States.
But I digress
Obviously, it goes without saying that my thoughts and prayers are with the Ludwig's this weekend and beyond. And to thank Big K and Agnes for putting up with Ray and I all those days and nights.
But I'm not just sad because the dad of one of my best friends in the world passed this week, I'm also sad because it's making me remember some good times that don't seem that long ago.
Even though they are.
Take Care Everyone
and Have a Great Week
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