Please visit www.greggebrickman.com and click on blog.
book reviews, mystery writing, nursing, teaching, & life
I’m on a blogging break again. Due to changes with my job, I need to spend my available writing time working on my novels.
I’ll be back.
Thank you for your patience.
I’m sitting here being the good wife while my husband watches the Superbowl. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t intend to watch it. I’m just fixin’ to be supportive and see a few cute commercials.
A conversation started the other day with the mention of the most recent husband-father sports hero cheating episode. When I heard the news report about it last week, my thought was, Oh no, not him, too. I suppose I’m naive and should be glad that at least he is supporting the child. What I really believe is he should have supported his wife and kept things buttoned up–not the new media, his pants.
Once again, I’m astounded by the inability of adult men to put limits on their own sexual behavior. My father-in-law (he’s almost 97, so he harbors a few dated opinions) thinks that the MAN isn’t to blame. After all, what can he do when IT is offered to him. If it is true that money and power make a man irresistible to certain women, then perhaps it’s time the men took the responsibility for setting limits.
Along those lines. Don’t these women realize that if the man is cheating with her, he will cheat on her. Cheating leopards, sports heroes, politicians, and superstars don’t change their spots, just their partners and locations.
Today I’m talking about athletes. I’m concerned that our society makes heroes out of athletes that should be admired for their athletic prowess and perhaps treated as outcasts for their personal morals and outlandish behavior. They may claim that it isn’t their responsibility to be any more than human. Perhaps not. Let’s pay them accordingly.
My friend told me his sons are big fans of the star players on the Miami Heat. They have posters in their bedroom and named jerseys. He is wondering about when to have the discussion that being a good athlete does not necessarily equal being a good person, one that’s worthy of hero worship.
Tonight they are making a big deal about Ray Lewis. Google him. He’s quite a hero.
The overwhelming response to my question about format was: Return to the short comments about life (observations, politics, food, inconsistencies, and insanities). That’s what I’m going to do. I thank all several of you who took the time to express your opinions.
My father wrote a weekly column called Stuph-n-Junk, which is why that was the original title of my blog. I received a couple of searing responses that were less than complimentary about the blog’s name. Okay. I get it. Stuph means something different now than it did then–think North Dakota and the sixties. Also–JUNK means something totally different now–or so I’ve been told.
We noticed our water bill rising and blamed the two commodes in the house that sometimes didn’t shut off. So on January 2nd we called the plumber–the same company that installed and services our A/C. The price to replace the guts on two toilets was $442. When the plumber, straight faced, handed me the estimate, he didn’t even look embarrassed.
“Why so high? That’s outrageous. I’m not begrudging you a profit, but . . . “
“That’s the prices in the standardized rate book.”
“You said RAPE BOOK?”
“Ah, no ma’am. You can buy a service contract and reduce the price by 15%.”
“If I buy the contract, I will actually have to pay $75 more today.”
You get the point. Some questions and answers revealed the rates were not standardized with anyone but the company doing the work.
As we slipped over our own personal, post-holiday spending, fiscal cliff, I thought maybe an outhouse would do the trick and be much more economical.
About that time, I glanced at the television. President Obama was talking about the federal Fiscal Cliff and imploring Congress to move forward. Seemed appropriate. Maybe they need an outhouse in Washington, D.C., too. Or maybe they just need to rip a sheet from the standardized rape book.
More later. GEB
I’m at a bit of a crossroads with this blog.
Here’s the thing. I don’t get a lot of traffic with my book reviews, which I also post to Amazon and Goodreads. I’m considering returning to my early format, mainly comments about life, things to cook, and rants about things that get under my skin. I would then post links for the reviews to accommodate those readers who like to read them.
What do you think? What do you want me to write about?
In that vein, my husband and I went to South Beach (that’s south Miami Beach for those of you in the north) for dinner last night with Mark, our oldest kid, his wife Laurie, and her parents. The restaurant, Larios, belongs to Gloria Estefan, and serves upscale and traditional Cuban food.
As is my habit, I texted Laurie and asked what the dress code was for the evening. She said, “Cute-Casual.” Explaining that the last time she ate their, she wore a dress and sandals. My response was to ask if one can use Cute-Casual and over-sixty in the same sentence AND on South Beach.
I wore a white dress and sandals. Laurie said I qualified as Cute-Casual. Of course, she is a nice person and wouldn’t tell me otherwise.
So, do you think there is an age limit for Cute-Casual? And what does it look like to you anyway?
My newest title, IMPERFECT DADDY: A Sophia Burgess and Ray Stone Mystery (#2) is now available on Amazon for Kindle and in paperback from Amazon. I’ll be signing at Murder on the Beach in Delray, 273 Northeast 2nd Avenue Delray Beach, FL 33444 on February 1 at 7 p.m.GEB
I posted the following reviews today:
Crescent City by Belva Plain
Done Deal : A John Deal Novel by Les Standiford