June 21, 2006

A belated Happy Father's Day to all it applies to.

       Sunday was an enjoyable, but long day. I had breakfast at the POP Diner (formerly the Sage) with
my Mom and dad. Then Tara got to meet the crew that is my father's church.
       The older I get, the more I appreciate the community that is Emanuel: The United Church of Christ. I
know I've talked about this before, but the thing about the UC of C is that it is a church by the people for
the people. It's not like Scientology, where they make up their own bible and have far out beliefs. Indeed
their beliefs are very similar to Catholicism, even the prayers are virtually the same. The biggest
difference is that while us Catholics are led by a Pope that we have absolutely no say in choosing, their
church gets more of a say in who leads them. In fact right now they are interviewing new pastors.
Meanwhile us Catholics get stuck with whoever the bishop tells us we have, and besides Fr. Pete and a
few others, its slim pickens out there.
     The interim pastor my dad's church has now, is Susan Stringer (another thing we Catholics will
probably not see in our lifetimes, a woman pastor) who is very nice and very energetic. She came over
and introduced herself to Tara and I, and congratulated us on the wedding.
     The membership in Dad's church is small, there were only about 30 people at the service. But it
someway that made it all the more intimate. For their kiss of peace, everybody got up and walked
around shaking hands. Those who hadn't yet met Tara introduced themselves. I don't know that I've ever
seen anything like that before.
       During her sermon, Pastor Susan said that "most of you come here every Sunday and sit in the
same place." She doesn't know the half of it. My family has sat in the same pew, the second one from
the back on the right side of the church, for as long as I can remember. I believe that my
grandfather chose that pew because he helped out with the collection and things like that. (My
father does the same thing now) So that means that we've been sitting there for well over 50 years.
       They invited us down for coffee and cake after the service, but we were on our way out to Wantagh
for part II of our day. Dinner with Tara's folks.
       Tara's dad, Tim is the grill master of Nassau County. I think if he could do it all over again, he
would have become a chef. There's a show on now called "Hell's Kitchen" where a foul-mouthed hot
tempered chef screams at the contestants who are preparing a series of restaurant style meals. Tim
would be perfect on this show. His cooking is that good, and the loudmouthed chef would be no match
for The Grill Master. TGM would turn the Chef into a ball of jelly.
        After dinner I had to go to work, which thankfully was fairly quiet, because I was shot. I didn't get
home till almost 3 AM, and thankfully I didn't have to be to work till 5 PM Monday, because I was out like
a light.              

        This past Sunday, June 18, the man who first asked "Will you still need me, will you still feed me,
when I'm 64," indeed turned 64.
          I have to imagine that when Paul McCartney wrote that song (it appeared on 1967's Sgt. Pepper's
Lonely Hearts Club Band--but Paul himself says he believed he wrote it when he was in his teens) that
this was sort of the way he imagined himself at that age. Happily retired on the Isle of Wight with three
grandkids. And for many years, it seemed like the legendary rock and roll hall of famer was going to get
that wish.
         Instead as Sir Paul turns 64, he's a widower about to go through a divorce from his second wife
who is also the mother of his 2 year old daughter. Now I'm sure when Paul imagined himself at 64, he
didn't envision himself having a toddler daughter.
         Suffice it to say, that 64 is going to be a rough one for Paul McCartney. And that's a shame.
Because as far as celebrities go, he's one of the better ones there is.
         Whether or not you liked his first wife Linda, (and she seems like a saint compared to this woman
he's divorcing), you have to give them credit. They stayed together for almost 30 years, rarely traveling
alone. Howard Stern told him one time "When I was a kid every chick I knew had a crush on you... you
could have had anyone! Tell me someone you banged that we all know, to which McCartney replied "I
didn't BANG anyone." If any couple could write a book about how to have a successful marriage and
raise a solid family while in the spotlight, it was Paul and Linda McCartney.
       Sadly, Linda died of breast cancer in 1998, the same disease that took the life of Paul's mother 40
years before. Paul secluded himself in England for a while. Then in February 1999, he was inducted into
the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame (accompanied by his daughter Stella who wore a shirt that said "About F-
ck-ng Time!") After that things got strange.
        He was at the 2000 Rock and Roll Hall of Fame awards, and then went to a pub afterwards and was
tossing back beers like he was still in Liverpool. He was introducing people to a younger woman named
Heather, who many folks thought was his daughter. (Heather was Linda's daughter by her first marriage
to Melvin See an anthropologist). But it was actually a woman he had just started dating named Heather
Mills.
        Mills was a former model turned activist, who had lost her leg in a motorcycle accident. They had
met at some charity event in late 1999 and began dating. From the get-go, at least from where I was
watching, she seemed a bit rough. Shortly after she started dating McCartney, she was on with Oprah
Winfrey, talking about her mission to rid the world of land mines. Oprah gave her all the time she needed
to make her points, then when the interview was about to end Oprah leaned over and said "I had a crush
on your boyfriend when I was a kid." Everybody laughed, but Heather looked like she wanted to kill
Oprah. I thought to myself: "She better get used to that sh-t. Every woman between born between 1946-
1964 has a crush on him.
       And then on Larry King Live right before they got married, Larry asked her about going out with a
Beatle and she snapped, "Well I don't want to talk about that, I want to talk about the minefields."
Nobody was begrudging her the right to talk about such an important issue, but you couldn't help but get
the feeling that she was using McCartney to pursue her agenda, noble as it might be.
      So I can't really say I'm surprised that it didn't work out. Nor am I surprised that the British media is
giving her such a hard time. She's very hard to like and he's like their patron saint. I can't help but feel
bad for him.
At 64, I hope he's not sincerely wasting away.

    I stopped caring about basketball a few years ago, but I have to admit, it bothers me just a little bit
that Pat Riley, one of the biggest weasels in sports, gets the hoist the NBA Championship trophy.
Another example of how sports rewards the lowest forms of humanity.

    And speaking of sports lowlifes, Gary Bettman has to be a happy man. I'll give him his due. He got
the Stanley Cup Finals, he wanted between two cities most people couldn't find on a map. And he kept
the Cup down in the South. As Post Chief Copy Editor Barry Gross said Monday night, "If there's one
place that the Cup should be besides Tampa, its Raleigh, North Carolina."

Got some birthdays just past and some coming up: Legendary reporter Thomas C. Liddy, (June 14)
Travel expert Chris Bunting (June 19), and the beautiful and talented Emily E. Cody who joins the over 30
club.

Everyone Else Have a Great Week
Wild B.