The two happiest people in Rockaway today are Lew Simon and my mother. For years, they’ve dreaded this column—-never knowing when I’d launch an unprovoked attack. At ease, you two. I’m outta here.
I’m hanging up the word processor. I’ve got nothing to say (which hasn’t stopped me before, I know). But this time, this time, I’m reeeeally gonna shut my trap.
As the universally and unanimously loved Howie Schwach has said: it ain’t easy writing a column. To that I say: here, here. Shoveling the b.s. puts a real strain on your back. Word doctors are telling me to take it easy. And besides the strain on my back, I’m just generally sick of myself. (Another thing Lew and I have in common). So that’s it.
Sorry to say, you won’t be getting those invaluable Kentucky Derby tips anymore. I still get thanks (and no cash tips) from those fans who cashed in on Lemon Drop Kid, Funny Cide, and Point Given. From now on, you’ll have to chase down the handsome handicapper driving the truck of a famous delivery company if you want the hay on the horses. Tell Sunny, Boyle sent you.
I’ll miss not having a column when I see something at the parade that strikes me as funny. There was our congressman walking alone except for a blank–faced dude right behind him. The guy was holding a sign identifying our congressman: Anthony Weiner. Good thing the guy had the sign—-how else would be know it was Anthony Weiner in the flesh?
I’ll miss the column when it’s time to stand up and cheer. The Graybeards raised $20,000 (thanks to the people of Rockaway and elsewhere) and delivered it to volunteers who lost their homes in the autumn firestorms in southern California. The group honored Frank McCarthy and Richie Knott at a rollicking fundraiser last week. The Graybeards do plenty of good but they also know how to have plenty of fun.
And I’ll miss the column when I want to point out look-alikes. I think the mayor of New Paltz who got himself some coverage by marrying gay couples is a dead ringer for Gifford Miller, the guy who wants to be our mayor. (Of course, you may not know what either of these guys look like—-but take my word for it). A couple of people said Bloomberg really does look like the Creature from the Black Lagoon. More than Don Rickles. I’ve yet to see a dead ringer for Al Stabile who used to be our councilman. But I’m out there looking—-another reason I have no time to write this column any longer. Once the rumor got started that Al was becoming a metrosexual I had to see for myself.
I know, I know. I’ve retired before. One great thing about The Wave is they always let me un-retire. They pat me on the head when I come crawling back and accept me as their prodigal poison pen. (That’s a hint to some of you. If the Johnson brothers think they can attack me in the ScrumDown News let them be forewarned that a comeback is always in the cards. If anyone thinks they can get a free shot at me in the Bag of Mail85 watch out. I’ll have Bev Baxter come after you).
The Wave knows I’m essentially a lazy, unreliable, good-for-nothing. But they get one benefit out of me: they write me off as a charitable deduction every year.
So that’s that. I hope to park my car on the Boulevard this summer and go down to the beach and have a cold beer. I hope I can jump in the water after 6 p.m. I hope I can do all that, and not get arrested. Or else I might have to start a column again.
Thanks for all your feedback and suggestions.