December 12, 2010. Words are flying out like endless rain into a paper cup

Words are flying out like
endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe (Lennon and McCartney)

In less than 3 weeks I'll be 54 years old. Yet in my mind, I'm 25. Not that I could or would try things that I did at 25. There are substitutes.

I'd look silly going to the school yard to play Basketball.

At 25, I drove a 280 Z. How ridiculous do balding, aging men look in a Sports Car? Not quite as ridiculous as that same man, 45 pounds overweight trying to get out of the car. Invariably a beautiful 25 year old woman will walk past. This overweight, comb-over of a man will suck in his gut, make sure he has his viagra and greet the woman. Things go well until she says, "Hello sir, you remind me of my grandfather!"

In the words of the Late Harry Chapin, "A tame and toothless tabby can't produce a lion's roar." What Harry neglected to say, Was "Nor do I want to." For you see, I don't mind middle age. I'd be lying if I said that I didn't mind PD. But as one door closes another opens.

My outlook is much better than it was. I found a hobby. Instead of remembering Baseball games that occurred in my imagination, I've discovered words. words like "avuncular," "conundrum," "ennui," and "Curmudgeon." When these words appear upon my screen I don't have PD, I'm not middle aged, my hair isn't falling out and I weigh 195 bounds.

PD, in a way, helped me to discover this pleasure. I still occasionally get the frustration of striking out. I'll go for weeks without an idea. Other times I come up with "Eggs but no Ham." Writing that was a blast. So far deep inside my archieves, I will reprint, """Eggs but no Ham."

Apologies to Dr. Seuss


Would you like

that piece of ham?
I can not eat Ham,
for Schwartz-I-am
I was circumcised at eight days old,
and ever since then, I’ve done what I’m told.



Would you try it
just this once?

No I think that I’ll stick to
my Gefilte Fish for Lunch.
I will not eat that piece of Ham,
Nor can I date the Shikse named Pam.
But I’d like to, said
Schwartz-I-am.

I’m sorry you can’t eat
a slice of Ham.
How about a can of Spam?

Nobody wants Spam in a can.
Not I, nor that nebish name Stan.
I will not eat it
when I Pray.
I will not eat it
at the end of day
A Jew won’t eat Spam in a can
I will not try it Schwartz-I-Am

Would you try it in the Shul?
Would you eat it with a Fool?

Would you get this through you head.
I cannot eat food that’s ill-bred!
I will not eat them in a Shul.
Nor will I eat them with you, you fool!
The animal must chew its Cud.
So I guess your party is just a Dud.
To a boy named Murray such is banned.
I will not try it, Schwartz-I-Am.

Would you eat them
in the Temple?
Please come here and
try a sample!

I will not eat them in the Temple.
What’s your problem are you really that simple.
I will not eat it from a box.
I’d just prefer a bagel and Lox.
You see this Beanie upon my head.
It’s just not the way that I was Bred.
I will not eat Spam in a can.
I will not eat it, Schwartz-I-Am.

A Shrimp! A Shrimp!
A Shrimp! A Shrimp!
Could you just this
once try a Shrimp?

A Fish that shelled, I will not eat!
Not even with that Shiske Sweet!
I would not, could not, eat his food.
I could not, would not, I’m not being rude.
I will not eat your Lobster Bisque.
My Mother may catch me, I won’t take the risk.
A Cheeseburger, I’ve never had.
Not even as a Little Lad.
I will not date that Shikse Pam.
Although, I’d like to, Schwartz-I-Am.

But,
Nobody will know,
There’s no one to show
Would you, Could you, Just like Moe.

I would not, could not,
even with Moe

Would you, could you,
on the Sabbath?

I would not, could not, on the Sabbath
Not with Moe. Not with the Shikse Pam.
Not in the Temple. Not in the Shul.
I cannot eat this what you serve,
So you’ll have more left in reserve.
Ask me no more. Do you have some Schmaltz?
You went to the wrong store, this Nova has no zalts!
Now listen while I tell you just one last time,
for I fear that I can no longer rhyme.
I will not eat a slice of Ham.
I will not eat Spam in a can.
But I changed my mind about the Shikse named Pam
I am no fool said, Schwartz-I-Am.

December 5, 2010. Paperback Writer

We all live many lives.

As a child, I like many other boys of my generation, wanted to play baseball. I was slow and couldn't hit a curveball.

As a teenager I wanted to be a Rock and Roll Singer. I can't hear a beat, and am completely and utterly tone deaf.

In College, I wanted Girls. That's for another story.

In Law School I wanted to argue before the Supreme Court. That actually has happened. On my last trip to Washington, I got into a heated argument with a Tea Partier protesting in front of the Court. I remember asking him, "Justice Thomas, don't you think that this is inappropriate?"

Around the time that I was diagnosed, I discovered the greatest outlet for my frustration and anger. I would write.

I started by recanting tales on a blog called "Memoirs of a Disgruntled Attorney." I went by the name of JelloMarx. These tales even bored me. I started writing parodies of songs, movies and my favorites, Dr. Seuss. I was elated the day that I learned that something that I wrote called "Eggs but no Ham," about a man named "Schwartz-I-Am." was posted in the New Orleans YMHA. Some of them were good, some not so good. But I found an outlet.

Friends and family wondered if I could be serious. I wrote on some Political sites, but found that most of the people there, both liberal and conservative are crazy.

One day, I decided to write about PD. The response has been great and it has kept me out of a funk.

I'd like to publish this, but it's not why I write it. I write because it helps me to remember how truly good my life has been and will continue to be.