A year ago today, the first bombshell hit to start the process of turning 2022 into the worst year of my life; as the year went on, they continued to drop, getting bigger and bigger. And for whatever reason, reminders keep popping up on my phone and my watch. Hey Apple, there are Memories I have no desire reliving, stop notifying me. I am NOT fishing for sympathy, but just bitching about Apple and its relentless algorithms which I can’t figure out how to turn off. Maybe if I use the onion on my belt…

But at least there are some reasons to celebrate. I had a lovely dinner last night with a rather fetching gerontologist. And there’s birthdays, which today include a guy whose spirit is alive in current jurisprudence; a rather petite fellow; a guy who was truly opposed to change; a guy whose views were evolutionary rather than revolutionary; a guy who was no fan of live theater; a leading candidate for shittiest carmaker; the spiritual father of Rashida Tlaib; a guy who was a total amateur; a Jewish cowboy; a guy who was anything but normal; a guy reputed to put Milton Berle to shame; one of my personal heroes and profound influences; an apparent clone of Roberts; and the star of a remarkable number of my favorite films.

Well, let’s see if Links are at all cheery.

 

This will turn out to be a guy in a lawn chair with some helium balloons tied to the arms.

 

I’m sure this is somehow connected to the Great Balloon Plague of 2023.

 

This Jew is making popcorn.

 

“Fuck ’em, they didn’t vote for me.”

 

Just in case you think politics is deeply dishonest and deeply stupid… here’s more proof.

 

Hey, let’s meddle in the internal politics of another country. Of course it’s the brain trust of Tommy “I Love Totalitarianism” Friedman and Joe “Where’s the pudding cup and my daughter?” Biden.

 

Every bit of this rings true to me.

 

OK, I’ll admit it, this did cheer me up a bit.

 

Know what always cheers up the Old Man? Clark Terry. And the Easter Egg here is the bassist.