Archive for category humorous stories

Hurricane Hazel Has Played Hockey Since The 1920′s!

Wonder how those pro athletes past their prime make it through life? Here is a charming and adorable story that should serve as an inspiration for us all. This woman is incredible. Watch her handle the puck and knock down duck pins. She still rides a bike and is more active than most people half her age.

Hazel still handles a puck

Hazel McCallion, age 89, is the mayor of Mississauga, Ontario, the sixth-largest city in Canada (population of 734,000) and the fourth most populous city on the Great Lakes, surpassing both Milwaukee and Cleveland. McCallion has been Mississauga’s mayor for 32 years, holding office since 1978. She is affectionately called “Hurricane Hazel” by supporters as well as the media at large for her vibrant outspoken style of no-nonsense politics. She was easily reelected in October 2010 for her 12th consecutive term of running a DEBT-FREE city!

Hazel began playing hockey in the late 1920s and later, with her two older sisters playing defense, took her spot as a lightning quick center on a team in a ladies’ league. After moving to Montreal, she turned “professional,” earning $5 a game to play for Kik Cola, one of three teams in a ladies’ league there. Since first being elected as mayor of Mississauga, Hazel has been able to spread her influence into other hockey-related areas, including sitting on the board of the Ontario Women’s Hockey League, obtaining icetime for girls’ hockey and helping Mississauga build the Hershey Centre. In 1998, Hazel McCallion assisted a group headed by hockey personality Don Cherry secure a franchise for the Mississauga IceDogs in the Ontario Hockey League.

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Does Circumcision Make You More Attractive?

Ira and grandson Ryder at one day old—1/2/11

Jerry goes to a bris as the godfather

I have a new grandson, who was born on 1/1/11. A real gift and source of happiness for me and our family. There was a bris a week later, which is a party to celebrate the birth and also to have a circumcision, which is performed by a professional called a mohel.

A friend sent me a link to a Seinfeld video about a bris. It is very funny and is in Yiddish with English subtitles.

The bris is a 4000+ year Jewish tradition to welcome a boy-child into the community. It is also a requirement for Muslim males I learned. It may have also begun for health reasons. These days not everyone agrees that it is necessary or desirable. Some people think it is barbaric.

I asked a surgeon friend if circumcision has health benefits. He and another doctor friend said it didn’t, although one wrote that “there is some benefit in reducing the spread of HIV in Africa.” But the surgeon (who is not Jewish) said he thought it was good from an aesthetic point of view. This startled me. Seems totally subjective and arbitrary.

But since this site is concerned with abs and other muscles that many think improve our appearance when they are defined or bigger, and since I have also talked about plastic surgery, breast enhancement, and hair coloring to make us look younger and more attractive, why not circumcision? Especially when at least one person thinks it makes men more attractive. To whom I wonder? The occasional date or wife? Oh well…

As the grandfather, I had the honor of sitting right next to the baby who was held by the other grandpa, who happens to be a doctor. He was very approving of the mohel’s technique. I was very nervous that something would go wrong. But it didn’t. Other people at the bris admitted that they couldn’t look and were queasy. The mohel pointed out how many people usually hug the most distant wall.

Did you ever read that for men, blood represents a problem, an injury or accident. But for women, who are used to menstruating, the flow of blood is a sign of good health and fertility. Who would have guessed…

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Ping Pong Victory Celebration

ping pong loser beware

Here is an amusing reaction to winning at ping pong. I do love watching the intensity of the game—whether ping pong, tennis, football—how serious everyone is and determined to do their best. And then someone wins and completely transforms into a totally different personality. Was that other self always inside just waiting to pop out? Where would it have gone if it had lost the match? And what about the player(s) who lost? They have to be as dignified as possible, given that they are allowed to show sadness and dejection. I watched Roger Federer cry like a baby when he lost a Grand Slam. What did you think of that?

Anyway here is a victor holding nothing back, whether it’s his victory dance or sticking the virtual sharp end of his paddle deep into the the loser’s heart. Thank goodness the defeated player didn’t deck him…

But after another viewing and focusing on the scoreboard, I came to a different conclusion about who won the game. See if you can figure it out right away.

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Sarah Silverman Parts Publicly With Advice About Non-Public Parts

Here is a health tip for women from Sarah Silverman that she shared on national TV. I post this as a public service…Though the screen behind her is blue (color), and her words are blue (bawdy), I feel blue (sad) that so many people I know would think it is in such bad taste and SOOOOOOO inappropriate that they are unable to laugh and enjoy it.

Is it the same for the people in your life? Maybe I shouldn’t reveal that I sometimes have a coarse side? Life often includes setbacks, pain and suffering, kicks in the teeth, disasters and deaths. Why can’t we all just relax a bit more and not take ourselves so seriously. Keep giving us advice Sarah…laughter is great for our health.

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How To Overcome Life’s Hurdles

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Politics On A Tennis Court?

A friend told me about a rural country club that has a lot of left-leaning members who leave New York on weekends for some fresh air and outdoor tennis. When one regular in a doubles game was away, and the remaining Democrat of the team was advised that a last-minute replacement had been found, she was happy that the game would go on…until she learned that the substitute was a Republican. “I can’t play with him,” she complained. “We have nothing in common, and I don’t want to be that close to someone with those values.”

Amazingly the game went on, and there were no fist fights, racket throws or cursing at teammates. Maybe this is a lesson for the whole country and especially our Congress: forced sports with the “enemy” as teammates. Can’t you just picture Obama and Palin as mixed doubles partners against Boehner and Pelosi? To be honest…I can’t. But I do have my fantasies…

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Will I Live to See 80?

A friend and college roommate sent me this, saying it made him think of me. There are other friends who often make fun of me, saying that by my not drinking much and denying myself tasty, buttery, fattening foods, I may outlive them, but my life will not have been as enjoyable and worth living. What do you think?

>Here’s something to think about.
>
>I recently picked a new primary care doctor. After
>two visits and exhaustive lab tests, he said I was doing
>’fairly well’ for my age. (I just turned sixty-something.)
>
>A little concerned about that comment, I couldn’t
>resist asking him, ‘Do you think I’ll live to be 80?’
>
>He asked, ‘Do you smoke tobacco, or drink beer, wine or
>hard liquor?
>
>’Oh no,’ I replied. ‘I’m not doing drugs, either!’
>
>Then he asked, ‘Do you eat rib-eye steaks and barbecued ribs?
>
>I said, ‘Not much… my former doctor said that
>all red meat is very unhealthy!’
>
>‘ Do you spend a lot of time in the sun, like playing
>golf, boating, sailing, hiking, or bicycling?’
>
>‘ No, I don’t,’ I said.
>
>He asked, ‘Do you gamble, drive fast cars, or have
>lots of sex?’
>
>‘ No,’ I said…
>
>He looked at me and said, ‘Then, why do you even give a
>shit?

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Take The Work Out Of Your Workout

There are so many companies offering products that will tone you and help you lose weight without you having to do anything. It’s amazing that people fall for their ridiculous claims, some of which are so bad as to be laughable. So here is one that should bring a smile to your face. One satisfied user says he can feel it working on his abs:

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The Dangers Of Oldsters Acting Like Youngsters Or…Oldsters

After reading yesterday’s article about older people dancing, a 62-year-old who just fractured his foot walking in France to feed his chickens sent me the following video that laughs cruelly at old people acting like kids…and getting into trouble. It’s an update on the slip-on-a-banana peel cartoon of decades past:

I admit that I smiled and laughed at some of these spills. I mean the people seem so dumb to be trying some of the things they are doing. But maybe that is one of the sadnesses of getting older—a complete lack of awareness of what your body and sense of balance can no longer manage. Or maybe they just need new glasses and don’t want to spend the money?

Anyway, it all motivates me to stay in shape and to keep moving, whether it’s dancing, tennis, lifting weights or much riskier, more daring sports…

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Dance Your Life Away To Be Healthier, Happier And Around Longer

This 4-minute film of a grayhair dancing was on a college humor site promising funny videos. I love his moves, I love Gaga’s music. Doesn’t he seem to be enjoying what he is doing? Of course he can outdance the college kids trying vainly to keep up with him.

What I hate is the message that it’s ridiculous and laughable to see a man with gray hair dancing with zest or at all. Dancing is such a high. It is revitalizing. So is the music, when it has some pep and life to it. My father danced so much that I had the adjective “dancing” inscribed on his headstone. It kept him smiling, alive, upbeat and happy his whole life. He didn’t stop even after his leg was hit by a car in his 70’s. He was doing the cha cha, foxtrot, mambo, and other steps late into his 80’s.

There has always been this idea that when you are over 40, you are supposed to “put away childish things,” be dignified and not act like a youngster. I remember dating those dames who bought that bullshit—they were like the walking wounded, more dead than alive. Boh-ring. Yet at the same time, our society reveres youth and convinces oldsters to dress and look like they are younger than their years. So you have millions over 50 wearing denim like they are teenagers; paying for face lifts, botox, tummy tucks and uplifts; and dyeing hair or plugging scalps to look like they did decades ago. Totally contradictory.

“Act your age.” How many times have I heard that reprimand? Or maybe it was, “You know Ira, he doesn’t act his age.” Who wants to? Movement and aerobics are what keep you young and healthy, along with a good diet. I’ve been dancing since I was in elementary school, then meeting tourist girls, so we could cha cha cha in the dance rooms of Miami Beach hotels, where I worked in high school. I took jazz dancing in my 30’s with professionals near Carnegie Hall (who of course danced rings and hoops around me, when I couldn’t remember all of the instructor’s steps). Now I strut my stuff at weddings and other parties plus a few Zumba classes.

You can really work up a sweat on the dance floor. It can be far more than a little pitty pat that has you looking cool as you do the two bland steps that blend you into the crowd. To hell with that. Express yourself. Be creative. Cultivate some originality. Don’t even think about being shy when you dance.

I remember one high school reunion when an Elvis impersonator (shades and white jump suit with reflective buttons) was belting out the old songs. I came down to the hotel’s night club a bit after my classmates and was just inside the door. There were Larry and Diane, two of the best dancers in our class of ’58, dancing as energetically and almost as gracefully as they had 35 years ago. They could still impress me with their style and sweeps. Maybe they had gained a few pounds, maybe lost some hair or used hair color. I don’t recall. But they could move.

Next to me were younger non-reunion hotel guests—maybe in their 20’s— watching these two “old people” (in their 50’s) twist and rock on the floor. But these “kids” were also laughing at what they saw more objectively: two grandfolks dancing like they were teenagers. They thought it was ridiculous. They couldn’t stop giggling at the spectacle. I was hurt and upset. Maybe I should have decked them, or at least shut them up. They saw oldsters acting “inappropriately.” I saw revived life. As Michaelangelo cut the stone away to reveal the David hidden within, the music—in my opinion— had cut loose the inner child from the stiff and aging bodies on the dance floor.

Well it’s your choice. I have friends in their 50’s up here in Connecticut who take tango lessons and then go to Argentina with their dancemates. Sounds like fun to me. I have friends who go to Roseland or other places where you can dance more formally with strangers. It sounds fantastic. Are you ready? What are you waiting for? You know you don’t live forever…

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What Am I Missing?

I hate being so out of step with the world. Two thirds of Americans are overweight or obese. Yet one clothing manufacturer, Ann Taylor, still feels that taking a very slim model and letting her wear some clothes naturally makes her look what? Fat? Overweight? Plump, chunky, pudgy?

losing weight by retouching

So they retouch the natural picture digitally to reduce her hips and waist a few inches. What was wrong with the picture on the left? She looks good to me. You can see how much more space now exists between her arms and her body in the picture on the right.

No wonder women hate their bodies, thinking they are “fat” and are upset with what they see in the mirror. But does it really take such strong character to laugh at such idiocy by the marketing types? A part of me says that any women who looks like the model on the left and thinks she is too heavy deserves any grief she feels for wishing she looked like the cartoon on the right. What do you think?

Now here is the “sensational expose” of how this retouching was discovered.

Some sort of tech error on Ann Taylor’s website mistakenly revealed how the brand’s photos look before retouching. Jezebel first noticed the pics on Tuesday afternoon, explaining:

As the page loads, you’ll get to see what the Chiffon Trim Tank looks like on a real woman for a few seconds. Then she shrinks into a awkward creature barely able to support the weight of her torso with her tiny child hips.

By Tuesday night, the glitch, involving thumbnails and other terms beyond us, had been fixed. But we were able to take some screen grabs before Ann Taylor cleaned it up. Check out the before and after images of the “Chiffon Trim Tank,” an item from a set of Photoshopped pictures we’ve previously written about.

To be fair, at the time, Ann Taylor did apologize, saying, “We want to support and celebrate the natural beauty of women, and we apologize if in the process of retouching that was lost.” Now, we just know exactly what was lost: a few inches off of the model’s waist and thighs.

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Jordan Romero At Age 13 Arrives At Top Of Mount Everest!

Jordan on top of Mt. Elbrus (highest in Europe) at age 10—7/11/07

The kid made it. Although he certainly sounds like a young man, rather than a boy. What an inspiration for those of us wanting to excel in any of our individual pursuits. You can read more about Jordan and see pictures of him in an earlier post. You can also visit his website, and watch the team’s progress as they climb down the mountain. One of the most adorable items in this latest story is that his FAVORITE good luck charm was a pair of kangaroo testicles. Wonder how heavy they are?

Also found an article from January 2009 that commented on Jordan: “… Jordan still needs to raise about $180,000 to complete these last three climbs, the bulk of which will go to Everest and Vinson. In order to raise the money, Jordan sells t-shirts and was recently awarded a Polartec Grant to help him in his quest.

You’ve got to hand it to the kid, he’s very dedicated to achieving his goal of becoming the youngest person to ever climb the Seven Summits, and he seems to really love being in the mountains.”

So the team behind and with him is really doing more than just walking up hills. It’s a huge logistical and fundraising effort.

By CARA ANNA, Associated Press Writer
Sat May 22, 5:16 am ET

BEIJING – A 13-year-old American boy became the youngest climber to reach the top of Mount Everest on Saturday, surpassing the previous record set by a 16-year-old Nepalese.

Jordan Romero called his mother by satellite phone from the summit of the world’s highest mountain, 29,035 feet (8,850 meters) above sea level. He is now one climb away from his quest to conquer the highest peaks on all seven continents.

“He says, ‘Mom, I’m calling you from the top of the world,'” Leigh Anne Drake told The Associated Press from California, where she had watched her son’s progress on a GPS tracker online.

“There were lots of tears and ‘I love you! I love you!'” Drake said. “I just told him to get his butt back home.”

The teenager with long curly hair — who climbed Mount Kilimanjaro in Africa when he was 9 years old — says he was inspired by a painting in his school hallway of the seven continents’ highest summits.

“Every step I take is finally toward the biggest goal of my life, to stand on top of the world,” Jordan said earlier on his blog.

The former record for the youngest climber to scale Everest had been held by Temba Tsheri of Nepal. He reached the peak at age 16. Read the rest of this entry »

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Old Spice For Your Abs

Here are some silly commercials made in a zany style by an actor with nice abs and other muscles:

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April Fools Joke With Abs And Angst

abs in Coldplay fake fragrance ad—4/1/10

abs in Coldplay fake fragrance ad—4/1/10

Coldplay launch their own fragrance
April 1, 2010 9:00 am
Angst by Coldplay, available from today

We’re very pleased to announce that Coldplay have today launched their own exclusive fragrance, Angst by Coldplay.

“This is something we’ve wanted to do for a long time,” said the band’s frontman, Chris Martin. “People like to smell nice and we thought we could help them out.”

Martin was quick to point out that there are bigger and better scents available, but that the band are simply trying to make the best aroma they can, for their own pleasure. “If anyone else likes it,” he explained, “then that’s a bonus”.

The core ingredients of the scent are listed on the Brian Eno-designed bottles as sangre, sudor and lágrimas, all of which have been sourced from Fairtrade suppliers.

Angst by Coldplay is available from today, April 1st, in the Coldplay official store, priced at £42. Click here to order your bottle now.

…and when you go to the Coldplay merchandise store, the fragrance Angst is sold out.

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The Dangers Of Exercise And Bodybuilding—April Fools

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Dressing For Spring Skiing

Some of you have asked about the weather in Canada. I heard it was going to be around 50 in the day and 20 at night and cool on the top of Mont Tremblant.

The first day I wore a long sleeve fleece under my ski jacket and was sweating like a horse.

The second day I wore a T-shirt under the ski jacket and saw a teen-ager wearing just a T-shirt. She said she wasn’t the least bit cold, although I zipped my jacket when the wind blew.

The third day I was really aware of how to dress, even though it was cloudy. I didn’t even have to zip up my jacket. Here is how I was skiing:

Spring skiing in Canada—3/18/10

Spring skiing in Canada—3/18/10

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Exercise For People Over 50

Begin by standing on a comfortable surface, where you have plenty of room at each side.

With a 5-lb potato bag in each hand, extend your arms straight out from your sides and hold them there as long as you can. Try to reach a full minute, and then relax.

Each day you’ll find that you can hold this position for just a bit longer. After a couple of weeks, move up to 10-lb potato bags.

Then try 50-lb potato bags and then eventually try to get to where you can lift a 100-lb potato bag in each hand and hold your arms straight for more than a full minute. (I’m at this level.)

After you feel confident at that level, put a potato in each bag.

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How Risk-Averse Are You In Life And In Sports?

Are you willing to take chances? I think I am. I’ve made investments in start-up companies, begun new books or magazines when I was a publisher, learned to ride a horse English-style at 50 and jump bareback at 52. I began serious tennis lessons at 65, and I’ve taken up squash for the first time when I was 68. But on the tennis court, I often play the safer shot and am gentler with my follow through for fear of hitting the ball too long. Then my opponent often smashes it back for a winner. No good. I must have more courage.

When it comes to food, I know people who order the same meals each time in restaurants. They admit that they are worried about not liking some unknown choice and are then stuck eating something they think tastes horrible. Or not eating it and wasting the money. And not reordering, and then going hungry. Or they don’t want to think about another decision, so they order what is familiar. A seven-day-a-week meat-eating friend told me proudly that he recently ordered trout for the first time and is now eating fish twice a week. He is in his mid-50’s.

These are little steps, but maybe they reveal bigger truths about who we are and how we play at sports and the rest of our lives. Yesterday I gambled and ordered the special appetizer the waitress had described, but not told me the price. As I said to the owner at the end of the meal, all the appetizers on the menu were around $10-13. Imagine my shock when the special one was $19! He said the waitress had made a mistake with the bill and insisted that the price should have been $17. But it certainly makes me leery about taking a chance again and ordering food blindly in his place. That price equaled the cost of some of the entrees. And I was unwilling to ask how much it cost before I ordered it. Too awkward for me.

Yesterday I also had another confront about my appearance. I have been playing many more hours of tennis and squash the past few months since my arm injury kept me from exercises in the gym. My upper-body muscles are gone or soft. I may be as fit as I was in the army at 21, when I ran five miles a day and jumped out of airplanes. But I look older. Of course I am older. So what’s my problem?

Well part of my goal in building muscle—and especially abs is to look “better”—and also younger. As I wrote in a previous post, millions of people reach for those goals by coloring their hair and undertaking plastic surgery. Very common and socially acceptable, although more for women than men.

graybeard Ira—2/1/10

graybeard Ira—2/1/10


But what the hell, you only live once. So tired of how gray my beard and remaining head hair had become, I went back to the hair salon for a cut and color. I was willing to take THAT chance, if not a riskier tennis swing or skiing down a steeper, black diamond trail.

What happened yesterday was a very funny development: the stylist tried a new color on my beard, and I ENDED UP LOOKING TOO YOUNG! This was a minor disaster, and she wasn’t sure how I was taking it and what to do about it. It was hilarious. My beard went from white to almost black. A clearly different color than the hair on my head. I was two-toned, like a tiger…well not that different. But anyone could tell.

the beard that still looks too young—2/12/10

the beard that still looks too young—2/12/10


This was a problem. I considered shaving it off on the spot. A friend at tennis had advised me to do that if I wanted to drop five or more years of appearance. I was almost at that point. I had taken the chance of a newer beard color, because the old one faded back to white weeks before my head hair. Now I was stuck. Of course it is only hair, it will fade in time, grow out, I am not a celebrity or going to job interviews. I am not dying. I will get through this. I will survive.

An hour later, after I learned more of what most women go through, after consultation with the owner of the salon, I had another paint brushing of bleach and coloring agent, and it didn’t look so bad. But I clearly looked more like when I was 20 years younger. And I have a picture to prove it.

my beard in 1980

my beard in 1980

The biggest problem is that I no longer recognize myself in the mirror. And I am sure other people are going to do triple takes when they see me. I will have to insist that, “I am not Chuck Norris.”

Now if I could only apply this gutsiness to my athletic pursuits, I’d be terrific. So many sports are mental games more than physical challenges. I have to take more risk…

…Ha Ha Ha Ha. I told you. Bumped into someone I work with for years—but hadn’t seen in three DAYS— and after her startled look at me, she asked if I was growing a beard! I had to tell her I have had the same beard for over 30 years, but that it was just darker than the last time we met.

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A Reader Writes About Hair and Abs and Food

Is that you Ira?

Is that you Ira?

Is that you Ira?

Not to worry Ira; the only reason you felt uncomfortable with your new hair, and the possible clash with your beard, is that, subconsciously, your mind could not associate your “mature” looking hair with your 30ish’ body architecture. Images of you have caused such a sensation globally that the Web is now replete with illustrations such as the one here, fashioned – of course – after your new sculpted body. You have started a new trend Ira. Next, IRA’s Eatery, featuring Mussels Marinara.

Robert Doornick

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New Olympics Sports—For Adults Only

These new Olympics sports can only be entered and watched by people over 17. Click on the pictures to see these videos:


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He’s Naked!

At a dinner party over the Thanksgiving weekend, someone mentioned my website and how much fun it was to check in periodically. I explained to some questioners that I was trying to build a six-pack. One friend revealed that I was working on it and might qualify for a three-pack, which I challenged. To prove my point, I showed my latest progress photo that was still in my camera—the one I’d taken in the mirror.

I was startled to hear this woman yell out for the whole table, “He’s naked!” I panicked, wondering what shot she had seen if she had accidentally moved the viewer to another frame. I didn’t remember taking any nude pictures of myself. Nor having any one else do it. What the hell was she looking at? Uh-oh. I was in trouble.

I quickly reached over my hostess and grabbed my camera and saw that it was just the photo I had intended to present. You can see it at the top of the page in “My Progress Photos.” Yet for his woman, a man in gym shorts with no shirt is considered naked. Whew! Big sigh of relief. Yet I forget how self-conscious some folks are when it comes to displaying or perceiving the human form. Maybe it was the shock of seeing even a photo of a bare male chest at a dinner table.

Wonder what she thinks of the underwear ads on this site and billboards all over the country? Or when she goes to the beach in the summer?

Anyway after a closer look, she agreed that it looked like I was already in the six-pack range. Back to crunches and making extra-special sure what is on my camera when I pass it to others.

PS/Update: I told this story to someone who insisted that the woman at the dinner was just being cute to get attention. But I don’t think so. She’s no professional actress. She was surprised and blurted out the first thing that came to her.

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How To Catch And Cook A Pheasant

Went hunting for pheasant twice last week. With a double-barreled, side-by-side, 1929 American-made (an L.C. Smith), 20-gauge shotgun that has art deco, large-leaf engravings. Five and a half hours walking in swamps, mud, cornfields, hayfields, woods, brooks and briars. Joyfully watching two friends’ dogs sniff and search for birds. There are now two pheasants and a quail in the freezer that I prepared for Thanksgiving dinner.

Ira, Blitz the German Shorthaired Pointer, and shotgun get the birds—11/10/09

Ira, Blitz the German Shorthaired Pointer, and shotgun get the birds—11/10/09


Pheasants and quail caught for Thanksgiving dinner—11/10/09

Pheasants and quail caught for Thanksgiving dinner—11/10/09

Non-hunters can never know the glorious hearts of canine breeds that find those still and silent birds. These pets track bird scent with the grace of ballerinas and have almost inexhaustible energy. When close, some dogs freeze, point and wait for the bird to bolt…or the hunter to prod the prey into the air, where it rockets suddenly at 40 to 60 miles per hour. Hopefully a retrieval follows.

Other dogs, like my English Springer Spaniel, Bella, are flushers. They track and do the bump as well. You just have to keep them relatively near by, because the shotgun only has an effective range of 35 or 40 yards. The pointers can wander all over, maybe a football field away. Some will stay motionless with nose aiming at the pheasant for 20 minutes. Then the hunter has plenty of time to close in for the shot. But a flusher out of range is a real frustration. You just watch the birds fly away, and curse, and yell at your dog.

As I mentioned in my bird stocking post (https://www.irasabs.com/?p=2430), the pheasants have a much better chance than chickens raised for supermarkets. In fact on the second day, during four hours of hunting, my friend and I fired at five pheasants and a woodcock, but only took one pheasant home.

My English Springer Bella after a swim—6/11/08

My English Springer Bella after a swim—6/11/08

Bella was lame for many months, so she hasn’t hunted for two years. She now seems healed. Hopefully we can search the fields together soon. She loves to romp and jump. She gets so excited when I take out the neck bell that helps me locate her as she scours the bushes and grasses. It is grown-up Hide and Seek.

For the birds the stakes are high. It is not a game. Yet they would probably not be alive in the first place if there weren’t hunting clubs eager to purchase them. Over 10 million pheasants are raised each year. It is an annual ritual anticipated by two million American hunters. These sportsmen welcome the challenge, the camaraderie, the preparation of the birds and the various recipes. My favorite way to cook pheasants is double-basted in raw eggs and flour, sauteed and topped with strawberry liqueur.

art deco shotgun engraving

art deco shotgun engraving

I only learned to hunt as an adult after I moved from Manhattan to Connecticut in 1990. Read the rest of this entry »

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Stalling Aging By Working, Using Botox, And Dating Younger Men

My high school classmate, Kay Rosenfeld, had some thoughts to add about reunions in response to the words from the woman who wrote just below.

Whoever you are — and you’re not one of my classmates because I’m one of Ira’s — I agree with just about everything you’ve said.

There are people that age and then there are those who grow old. I choose to be one of the former — and don’t plan to retire ever. Work keeps the faculties sharp and having to get up in the morning and look human inspires me to keep on looking good!

A little tastefully applied Botox (and whatever else) doesn’t hurt either.

Oh, yeah, one more thing — a younger man as a significant other will keep you on your toes (or whatever position you like). Works for me.

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One High School Reunion Is Enough

Here is a comment to my October 30th reunion post below from a reader who asked to remain anonymous in case her classmates visit this site:

Funny story, Ira.

I went to my 45th high school reunion…the only reunion ever for me….and the men looked like Dick Cheney and most of the women looked like old hookers or visitors to Disneyland. There were exceptions (and I was one, of course)….two of my women friends looked better than young. Plastic surgery and fitness can be a great thing. People who were at the top of their game looked the best. Many “retirees” looked really old and had nothing to say. I was surprised that there were so many people I didn’t know existed in my elite high school world of advanced placement. What a pain in the ass I must have been. I found myself making apologies to boys I broke dates with to go out with other boys 45 years later. I couldn’t believe they remembered that shit since i couldn’t even remember their names. All in all I think I spent high school aspiring to be the Snowball Queen and getting the hell out. One reunion is enough.

You are looking fabulous.

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I Am Not That Old

A friend from high school sent me this a few months ago. After just returning from my college reunion and seeing some classmates for the first time since 1962, I thought of this story. Then I saw the pictures some took of me, and I have to admit that I would never have recognized me if I was one of the other guys. So here goes…

YOU EVER BEEN GUILTY OF LOOKING AT OTHERS YOUR OWN AGE ANDTHINKING, SURELY I CAN’T LOOK THAT OLD? WELL…..YOU’LL LOVE THIS ONE!

MY NAME IS ALICE SMITH AND I WAS SITTING IN THE WAITING ROOM FOR MY FIRST APPOINTMENT WITH A NEW DENTIST. I NOTICED HIS DDS DIPLOMA, WHICH BORE HIS FULL NAME.

SUDDENLY, I REMEMBERED A TALL, HANDSOME, DARK HAIRED BOY WITH THE SAME NAME HAD BEEN IN MY HIGH SCHOOL CLASS SOME 30-ODD YEARS AGO.

COULD HE BE THE SAME GUY THAT I HAD A SECRET CRUSH ON, WAY BACK THEN?

UPON SEEING HIM, HOWEVER, I QUICKLY DISCARDED ANY SUCH THOUGHT.

THIS BALDING, GRAY HAIRED MAN WITH THE DEEPLY LINED FACE WAS WAY TOO OLD TO HAVE BEEN MY CLASSMATE, AFTER HE EXAMINED MY TEETH, I ASKED HIM IF HE HAD ATTENDED MORGAN PARK HIGH SCHOOL .

‘YES, YES I DID. I’M A MUSTANG! ‘ HE GLEAMED WITH PRIDE. ;

‘WHEN DID YOU GRADUATE?’ I ASKED

HE ANSWERED, IN 1975. WHY DO YOU ASK?

‘YOU WERE IN MY CLASS!’ I EXCLAIMED.

HE LOOKED AT ME CLOSELY.

THEN THAT UGLY,

OLD,

BALD,

WRINKLED,

FAT ASS,

GRAY HAIRED,

DECREPIT,

SON OF A BITCH ASKED….

‘WHAT DID YOU TEACH?’

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