Under the Bus Once Again...

I hear screams. I hear loud noises. No worries. I'm glad. I'm watching my neighbors here in LA having a good time. Those artful Dodgers have won. I'm streaming all the madness and mayhem.

They've won the World Series. Again! I missed watching the final game but have been watching the highlight replays since the Dodgers beat the Blue Jays on Saturday night. It was Saturday night and things turned out alright, as the song says. Not much going on for me most Saturday nights.

I was busy reading the Police Gazette, that story about that serial-killer that dressed as a clown and missed the big game. Maybe it was the awesome way the story was written. Or maybe I was channeling a past episode of Dexter. Only the Dali Lama knows for sure.

So happy to see the Dodger hooligans waving from those Double-Decker buses. Blowing off steam. Celebrating a great win. Missing work today by calling in sick. Faking a late summer cold. Whatever.

While everyone is riding the buses, I'm under the bus once again. 

Yeah. Trying to cope. Looking for a more meaningful job. Looking for the 2nd Miss Right. Looking for Miss Goodbar 2025 you might say.

Trying to keep fit by walking 10,000 steps most days, heading to the liguor store down on the corner and back. Dropping those Lumify drops into my baby-blues most mornings. Living my life of quiet desperation,in my own special Southern California LA way. 

Still the sun is shining in LA. It always does. I'm counting my blessings. The Dodgers won. The cartels are paying early once again. Looks like the weekend gigolo gig I thought was dead and buried is alive and on the rise.  

Watching now as those Dodger fans are waving those "Dodgers Forever" signs. 

But, enough about me...

Sharing Life's Lessons on Father's Day 2025...

My greatest role. My greatest honor. Being a Dad. I have always tried to set a good example. Nurturing. Teaching. Sharing Life lessons.

Life lessons like being on time. Let's say you have yet another court appearance. Maybe yet another Parole Hearing. Your scheduled time is 8:00 am. Always be early. Be there at 7:30am. Walk tall.

Life lessons like always smiling. At home. In class. In that court-ordered traffic school Saturday morning class. Smile as you sign in. Smile as your teacher drones on and on. Smile. Walk tall.

Life lessons like Dressing for Success. A special occasion. A wedding. A funeral. Look great. So you have to travel to that thrift shop in Beverly Thrills. So it takes three or four Metro bus connections to get there. Do what you gotta do. Walk tall.

Life lessons like scrolling through your family album as your  Grandfather waxes poetic about your family history. You see horse thieves.  Used car salesmen. Ne'er-do-wells. Streetwalkers. Disbarred lawyers. Defrocked clergy. Corrupt politicians. Like most families. Say nothing. Keep scrolling. Keep smiling. Walk tall.

Life lessons like always showing respect for your elders. You're on a hot bus. Nobody is talking. Handcuffs are chafing your wrists. An older inmate gets on the bus. There's no seat for him to sit down. Show some respect. Rise and give him your seat. In this case, Stand Tall.

But, enough about those Father's Day Life Lessons. 

But, enough about me.

Hope you're having an awesome Father's Day...

26 Miles Across the Sea...

I went 26 Miles today. In my car. No, I didn't run the L.A. Marathon but I did wave to the runners in Chinatown as they rumbled past me.  Most waved back. A few of the bottom feeders gave me a one-digit response. Bless their hearts.

I did pay homage to the local athletes in a Round-About-Way. I celebrated the original Greek runner, Pheidippides,the dude that ran the original 26 miles to the Plains of Marathon, by scarfing down breakfast at Philippe's (no relation, I assume), as I do most Sunday mornings, community service permitting.

I actually jogged a few steps from Broadway down to Philippe's on Alameda. In my mind I wasn't the only member of the Screen Actors Guild that is also a California licensed Funeral Director (3383), I was Steve Reeves, the acclaimed 50's bodybuilder who played the role in the Swords & Sandles, filmed-in-Italy epic "The Giant of Marathon" a prized DVD I discovered amidst tears, in the bargain-bin rotisserie at the new Amoeba location one rainy night a couple of restraining orders ago.

As I breakfasted, over a second cup of Philippe's 45 cent cup of coffee, I realized that those 25,000 plus runners, currently huffing and puffing to the finish line in Culver City, were probably churning and burninng big-time calories and probably hungry as a wolf. Have I no shame! (As a member of ASCAP, my apologies to Duran, Duran.) 

It's a small wonder all those dudes and duchesses from a third-world place like Ethiopia always win the American marathons. They're motivated by nature, famine-skinny, and bless their hearts, are probably coping with the pain and strain of the race, by picturing the finish line in Culver City.

A finish line, not too far from the neighborhood In-n-Out with a Double-Double with onions simmering on the grill. I know hunger.  I know the 3rd World. I've been to Cleveland.

Maybe next year I'll attempt the L.A. Marathon. I'll start my training by running short distances. To the Liquor store. Or maybe home from the laundromat. Maybe running to catch the shuttle from the Disney Concert Hall parking to another appearance in Federal Court. 

Speaking of court, good luck next Friday. I know you're tired of being a defendant over and over. Try to smile. Get a new suit from Goodwill and walk tall. Text me when it's all over. Good luck bro.

But, enough about me...