Friday, April 27, 2012
Thursday, April 26, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
Friday, April 20, 2012
http://ping.fm/C0I82 One more day left to get your free Kindle edition. #4 in Free Memoir on Amazon today in U.S., # 3 in UK. Don't miss the laughs and nostalgia.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
THANKS EVERYONE! 4:00 ON 4.19.12 AND CAN WE COME IN AND LAUGH, TOO IS #7 IN FREE KINDLE MEMOIRS, 946 OVERALL. GET YOUR SHARE OF LAUGHTER. FREE UNTIL MIDNIGHT APRIL 20 AND AGAIN ALL DAY ON APRIL 27. AFTER THAT, $2.99. http://ping.fm/4HjA0
We all need a good laugh. FREE today and tomorrow on Kindle "Can We Come In and Laugh, Too?" http://ping.fm/Tilew http://ping.fm/KKQiY
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
http://ping.fm/OaVTJ
www.youtube.com
My mom Rosetta loved dancing and laughing her whole long life. Here she is dancing on her 90th birthday back in 1999 with her grandsons Jason and Scott. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all be that spry at 90? If you enjoyed this and laughed along, please click LIKE. Better yet, click SHARE and let your Facebook friends enjoy it. The Kindle edition of Rosetta's memoir "Can We Come In and Laugh, Too?" will be FREE on April 19 and 20 so be sure to download your copy and tell your friends.
www.youtube.com
My mom Rosetta loved dancing and laughing her whole long life. Here she is dancing on her 90th birthday back in 1999 with her grandsons Jason and Scott. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could all be that spry at 90? If you enjoyed this and laughed along, please click LIKE. Better yet, click SHARE and let your Facebook friends enjoy it. The Kindle edition of Rosetta's memoir "Can We Come In and Laugh, Too?" will be FREE on April 19 and 20 so be sure to download your copy and tell your friends.
Tuesday, April 10, 2012
EXCERPT FROM THE MAFIA FUNERAL AND OTHER SHORT STORIES--
Upon arriving at the church, he stared in astonishment at the forty black limousines lining the street in front, even extending around the block, waiting to transport mourners to the cemetery. A man dressed in a somber black suit, black shirt and black tie, shouted, “Jerry, over here,” as he sat stopped in traffic. The man approached the car, beckoning to him.
“Uh, you, you’re Jerry, right? Pull over here.” He crooked his finger toward the curb.
As he said that, one of the limos pulled forward and one backed up, creating a space just big enough for the bright yellow convertible to be fourth in line. Jerry inched the convertible into the spot like a daisy sprouting in a sea of black, then called out to the man, “How did you know it was me?”
After a few grunts that passed as a laugh, the man said, “Yellow convertible driven by a guy with auburn hair? Not that hard to miss, my friend. You’re part of the procession.” Then the mountain of a man squinted, taking in the whole scenario. “Hmmm. Wish I had a camera to take a picture of this for the guys back in Cleveland. Ya gotta admit, it’s gonna be a pretty funny lookin’ procession with that yellow rag top of yours and all the black limos.”
Off-duty cops leaned against their motorcycles, killing time until they took their positions as the official escorts. Regal palms swayed in the gentle California breeze. Jerry gulped and ran around the car to let Susan out.
As they entered the church, Angie greeted them, then told the priest that Jerry was one of the pallbearers. Inexplicably, the priest narrowed his eyes to glare at them. As Angie walked them to their pew, he explained in hushed tones that the priest was very upset because five of the six pallbearers were Jewish. The priest had insisted the pallbearers should be Catholic. However, he said, he’d made it clear to the old man in no uncertain terms that these five were his brother’s best friends and religion had nothing to do with it. When the priest protested again, he’d played hardball. The corners of his mouth drew into a wry smile. “I told him that we’d helped build his church and we could take our support elsewhere.”
He patted Jerry on the shoulder. “I added that friends are friends, whatever their religion, and insisted he show respect. The old guy hasn’t said two words to me since.”
Looking around the church, it quickly became obvious that the limos belonged to several “out of town” mourners. Jerry and his wife recognized some very high-profile mobsters from photos they had seen in newspapers through the years. The five Jewish pallbearers and their spouses huddled on the left side of the church, right next to Angie and his friends. To genuflect or not? They whispered among themselves, then finally decided to honor the customs of the church. The priest, now standing at the pulpit, glared laser beams in their direction. Like a scene in a funny movie, the eulogy began.
http://ping.fm/oHKBL
Upon arriving at the church, he stared in astonishment at the forty black limousines lining the street in front, even extending around the block, waiting to transport mourners to the cemetery. A man dressed in a somber black suit, black shirt and black tie, shouted, “Jerry, over here,” as he sat stopped in traffic. The man approached the car, beckoning to him.
“Uh, you, you’re Jerry, right? Pull over here.” He crooked his finger toward the curb.
As he said that, one of the limos pulled forward and one backed up, creating a space just big enough for the bright yellow convertible to be fourth in line. Jerry inched the convertible into the spot like a daisy sprouting in a sea of black, then called out to the man, “How did you know it was me?”
After a few grunts that passed as a laugh, the man said, “Yellow convertible driven by a guy with auburn hair? Not that hard to miss, my friend. You’re part of the procession.” Then the mountain of a man squinted, taking in the whole scenario. “Hmmm. Wish I had a camera to take a picture of this for the guys back in Cleveland. Ya gotta admit, it’s gonna be a pretty funny lookin’ procession with that yellow rag top of yours and all the black limos.”
Off-duty cops leaned against their motorcycles, killing time until they took their positions as the official escorts. Regal palms swayed in the gentle California breeze. Jerry gulped and ran around the car to let Susan out.
As they entered the church, Angie greeted them, then told the priest that Jerry was one of the pallbearers. Inexplicably, the priest narrowed his eyes to glare at them. As Angie walked them to their pew, he explained in hushed tones that the priest was very upset because five of the six pallbearers were Jewish. The priest had insisted the pallbearers should be Catholic. However, he said, he’d made it clear to the old man in no uncertain terms that these five were his brother’s best friends and religion had nothing to do with it. When the priest protested again, he’d played hardball. The corners of his mouth drew into a wry smile. “I told him that we’d helped build his church and we could take our support elsewhere.”
He patted Jerry on the shoulder. “I added that friends are friends, whatever their religion, and insisted he show respect. The old guy hasn’t said two words to me since.”
Looking around the church, it quickly became obvious that the limos belonged to several “out of town” mourners. Jerry and his wife recognized some very high-profile mobsters from photos they had seen in newspapers through the years. The five Jewish pallbearers and their spouses huddled on the left side of the church, right next to Angie and his friends. To genuflect or not? They whispered among themselves, then finally decided to honor the customs of the church. The priest, now standing at the pulpit, glared laser beams in their direction. Like a scene in a funny movie, the eulogy began.
http://ping.fm/oHKBL
Friday, April 6, 2012
Is blaming Las Vegas for the recent $822,000 GSA spending spree another way of shifting blame? Read my take on it in today's Las Vegas examiner.com http://ping.fm/9S5Ol
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
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