Many of the major nations are undergoing painful economic choices and decisions. As I write these words, a demonstration of 250,000 peacefully marched in London, except for a minority of 500 who became aggressive, throwing ammonia-filled light bulbs at police, smashing windows and scrawling graffiti on bank and corporate buildings. France has had a series of strikes and demonstrations with cars burned with Molotov cocktails or overturned. Spain, Portugal, Ireland, Greece, Italy---you name it---all are fighting fiscal chaos. Wisconsin and Ohio have witnessed, for the most part, peaceful but noisy demonstrations against attempts to cut services or to limit the public unions from collective bargaining, and these conflicts illustrate the malaise and pain of today.
Most of the winter of discontent centers around attempts to get a handle on fiscal expenses and deficits, which have necessitated cutting large chunks of public service, education , medical services and other matters dear to the public heart. Large unemployment and slowed economies complete the dismal picture of countries in economic distress. It would appear from the international scene that drastic fiscal cuts in an effort to stem the deficit are not always successful. In the short term, such cuts may appear to have saved money, but, in the long view, revenues eventually suffer and the economy stalls. Whatever choice you make, it is bound to be painful.
My inclination is we still have to emphasize job creation, and that means priming the governmental pump to create jobs or making incentives to stimulate business. It is pure astigmatism to cut education when we are facing an international market where emerging nations are closing the educational gap or, in some cases, have passed us. It is totally self-defeating to cut that area where we need to train a better work force and to preserve the flow of new ideas for which America has been famed.
We also still have to face the major task of dealing with entitlements, those areas which comprise the major part of governmental expenditure: reforming the income tax code, controlling medical costs and developing a workable health plan, and streamlining social security---the real guts of our economy. Moreover, I hate to say it, it may well mean in the future raising taxes, even after we clean up the income tax code. Without jobs and without training for the future, we are going to slip into mediocrity. Without dealing with the major areas of expenditures, we are going to continue increasing the deficit and further mortgaging future generations. But the first thing we have to do is get people working. It is amazing what that can do for morale and a positive “can-do” attitude.
Yes, it is Hobson’s choice: whatever we do will hurt, for sure. But it has to be done.
Monday, March 28, 2011
Friday, March 25, 2011
THEY WERE RIGHT: GROWING OLD IS NOT FOR SISSIES
I noted in an early blog this month that I took a fall, slipping and falling hard on the garage concrete floor. I had a doctor's appointment by pure chance that day, and he gave me a lookover and saw nothing was broken. At that time I had a small bruise on my butt, but, wow, did that expand: in the next few days, it looked like I was wearing purple underwear as I was deeply bruised from groin to full right cheek of my butt. He later x-rayed me and confirmed no break but also confirmed that my L-4 and L-5 lower lumbar discs were severely compressed and suggested I see a neurosurgeon.
I did so yesterday, and the neurosurgeon is suggesting a round of three shots and extensive physiotherapy. It is obvious that the fall aggravated my sciatica and, he and I hope, the treatment will give me some relief. That failing, he could operate for a stenosis, a narrowing of the spine putting pressure on the sciatic nerve, which can be opened up to relieve the pressure through surgery. Naturally, I would prefer not to be cut. I always remember an old friend who used to say, "Doctors practice---and I don't want them practicing on me."
It has not been a fun month, as walking, sitting,bending and most activities hurt. In the last few days I can walk without pain and the bruising has finally gone, so at least I feel human again.
I think I'll cancel the month of March and start over again!
I did so yesterday, and the neurosurgeon is suggesting a round of three shots and extensive physiotherapy. It is obvious that the fall aggravated my sciatica and, he and I hope, the treatment will give me some relief. That failing, he could operate for a stenosis, a narrowing of the spine putting pressure on the sciatic nerve, which can be opened up to relieve the pressure through surgery. Naturally, I would prefer not to be cut. I always remember an old friend who used to say, "Doctors practice---and I don't want them practicing on me."
It has not been a fun month, as walking, sitting,bending and most activities hurt. In the last few days I can walk without pain and the bruising has finally gone, so at least I feel human again.
I think I'll cancel the month of March and start over again!
Thursday, March 24, 2011
ELIZABETH TAYLOR: 1932-2011
A legend is now gone. How often do you see an obituary for other than a world leader on the front page of the New York Times, a full page on the obituary page, plus two other articles on her life?
I did not know Elizabeth Taylor but I once saw her and am still reeling from the impact of her presence. It was 1951, and my father had taken me on my first trip to California. One night we were having dinner at Chasen’s, a Hollywood landmark of the celeb world, when this girl came in with her escort. It was Liz Taylor and her first husband, Nickie Hilton, who were escorted to the table next to ours. As she sat down, she looked around the room. I saw those incredible eyes full blast. They were not violet, they were PURPLE, and I felt as if I had been hit in the chest. “My God,” I gasped, turning to my father, “that’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen!”
My older brother literally had an encounter, so to speak, with her in the early sixties. He was on a business trip to New York and was staying at the Drake Hotel where he and I often stayed when in the Big Apple. Hank, my brother, had just picked up a copy of the Wall Street Journal outside the hotel and came into the lobby and then into the elevator, engrossed in the paper, not watching where he was going. Suddenly he felt a pneumatic thump on his chest and looked up to see he had frontally assaulted Elizabeth Taylor. He gasped, stuttered and apologized profusely, feeling like an idiot---but a very happy one. She got off the elevator before him and even smiled. For obvious reasons, he never forgot that incident and often joked about how he had “bumped into” Elizabeth Taylor.
The only other beautiful woman who ever had that effect on me I saw in 1952. I was living in New York. King George VI (the king of the acclaimed “The King’s Speech”) had just died, and the British actors then appearing on Broadway, includimg Laurence Olivier and Brian Aherne, organized a memorial service at The Little Church Around the Corner, an Episcopal landmark on lower Fifth Avenue. My mother had an older cousin living in New York who invited me to join her at this memorial service. Olivier gave the tribute to the late king, and it was a memorable service and tribute. The literati and glitterati of New York were abundant in that church.
After the service ended , the church emptied from the front pews to the back. I was waiting my turn in an aisle seat when this girl came by and happened to turn her head in my direction. I felt the same kind of thump in my chest as I saw those gorgeous brown eyes. It was Audrey Hepburn, then nineteen and appearing, prior to her Hollywood fame, in a Broadway production as a sea nymph in Collette’s “Ondine”. She was a close second to Elizabeth Taylor. Sadly, she’s also gone.
Sixty years later, the memories of those two beautiful women are still ever present.
In addition to their beauty, both gave much to the world, and they were equally beautiful in spirit. They are missed.
I did not know Elizabeth Taylor but I once saw her and am still reeling from the impact of her presence. It was 1951, and my father had taken me on my first trip to California. One night we were having dinner at Chasen’s, a Hollywood landmark of the celeb world, when this girl came in with her escort. It was Liz Taylor and her first husband, Nickie Hilton, who were escorted to the table next to ours. As she sat down, she looked around the room. I saw those incredible eyes full blast. They were not violet, they were PURPLE, and I felt as if I had been hit in the chest. “My God,” I gasped, turning to my father, “that’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen!”
My older brother literally had an encounter, so to speak, with her in the early sixties. He was on a business trip to New York and was staying at the Drake Hotel where he and I often stayed when in the Big Apple. Hank, my brother, had just picked up a copy of the Wall Street Journal outside the hotel and came into the lobby and then into the elevator, engrossed in the paper, not watching where he was going. Suddenly he felt a pneumatic thump on his chest and looked up to see he had frontally assaulted Elizabeth Taylor. He gasped, stuttered and apologized profusely, feeling like an idiot---but a very happy one. She got off the elevator before him and even smiled. For obvious reasons, he never forgot that incident and often joked about how he had “bumped into” Elizabeth Taylor.
The only other beautiful woman who ever had that effect on me I saw in 1952. I was living in New York. King George VI (the king of the acclaimed “The King’s Speech”) had just died, and the British actors then appearing on Broadway, includimg Laurence Olivier and Brian Aherne, organized a memorial service at The Little Church Around the Corner, an Episcopal landmark on lower Fifth Avenue. My mother had an older cousin living in New York who invited me to join her at this memorial service. Olivier gave the tribute to the late king, and it was a memorable service and tribute. The literati and glitterati of New York were abundant in that church.
After the service ended , the church emptied from the front pews to the back. I was waiting my turn in an aisle seat when this girl came by and happened to turn her head in my direction. I felt the same kind of thump in my chest as I saw those gorgeous brown eyes. It was Audrey Hepburn, then nineteen and appearing, prior to her Hollywood fame, in a Broadway production as a sea nymph in Collette’s “Ondine”. She was a close second to Elizabeth Taylor. Sadly, she’s also gone.
Sixty years later, the memories of those two beautiful women are still ever present.
In addition to their beauty, both gave much to the world, and they were equally beautiful in spirit. They are missed.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
PLAY BALL IN TROPICAL SPRINGTIME
A good friend gave me two tickets to the Red Sox-Rays game last night at City of Palms Park in Fort Myers FL and asked me to take a younger British visitor to our island to a baseball game and explain the game to him. We had superb seats, directly behind the catcher with the protective netting to keep us from getting nailed by a plethora of hard foul shots.
It turns out, Patrick, the British lad, is a sports nut and follows baseball on Sky TV in U.K. when they show games. He was very astute in understanding the strategies and nuances of the game. About the only thing I could teach him was to keep a box score in his program. We did this for a few innings and then we said to hell with it and just watched the game, but he caught on to scorekeeping quickly. In exchange he gave me some greater appreciation of cricket, which I am beginning to enjoy when we summer in England. As I said, he is a real sports nut, very keen on Football (Soccer, that is!), American Football and even Basketball.
I don't get too many baseball games these days, but City of Palms Park is an ideal setting, surrounded by Royal Palm trees, plus the weather was in the seventies with low humidity. The park was sold out---over 8000 at the game---and you would have thought I was in a tropical New England judging by the nasal Yankee accents I heard. "Where did ya pahk the cah, Harry?", one woman behind me asked. I felt out of uniform without a Red Sox replica jersey. Patrick and I, just to be contrary, cheered for the Tampa Rays, who, incidentally, won 7-4.
I know many people find baseball as exciting as watching grass grow, but, again, I'm a contrarian: I love the symmetry of a baseball diamond, the grace of the fielders in action, the crack of a solid hit and the base running. It was my game as a kid, and the kid in me still loves it. It is a kind of pleasure to see a competition where body contact is incidental and secondary to the individual talent of each player.
A good super hot dog and a couple of excellent Belgian beers made the evening complete. Anglo-American relations were never better than at the old ball game. By the way, a cute young high school girl did a great job on the national anthem a capella---and she knew all the lyrics!
You can take me out to the ball game anytime when it's like this!
It turns out, Patrick, the British lad, is a sports nut and follows baseball on Sky TV in U.K. when they show games. He was very astute in understanding the strategies and nuances of the game. About the only thing I could teach him was to keep a box score in his program. We did this for a few innings and then we said to hell with it and just watched the game, but he caught on to scorekeeping quickly. In exchange he gave me some greater appreciation of cricket, which I am beginning to enjoy when we summer in England. As I said, he is a real sports nut, very keen on Football (Soccer, that is!), American Football and even Basketball.
I don't get too many baseball games these days, but City of Palms Park is an ideal setting, surrounded by Royal Palm trees, plus the weather was in the seventies with low humidity. The park was sold out---over 8000 at the game---and you would have thought I was in a tropical New England judging by the nasal Yankee accents I heard. "Where did ya pahk the cah, Harry?", one woman behind me asked. I felt out of uniform without a Red Sox replica jersey. Patrick and I, just to be contrary, cheered for the Tampa Rays, who, incidentally, won 7-4.
I know many people find baseball as exciting as watching grass grow, but, again, I'm a contrarian: I love the symmetry of a baseball diamond, the grace of the fielders in action, the crack of a solid hit and the base running. It was my game as a kid, and the kid in me still loves it. It is a kind of pleasure to see a competition where body contact is incidental and secondary to the individual talent of each player.
A good super hot dog and a couple of excellent Belgian beers made the evening complete. Anglo-American relations were never better than at the old ball game. By the way, a cute young high school girl did a great job on the national anthem a capella---and she knew all the lyrics!
You can take me out to the ball game anytime when it's like this!
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
SIGNS OF SPRING
You in the frozen north are more than overdue for some thawing relief. March in the north can be a real mixed bag, as I remember, with brief hints of spring followed by one last snow storm. I hope relief is on the way for you.
We have had gorgeous weather here the last few weeks with warm days without humidity and cool nights. Now I am perceiving the subtle signs of spring which are not so obvious as they are in the north. Some of the signs are:
(1) The air is getting a softness, a gentle touch where, even when the winds come up, the bite of the wind is missing,
(2) The nights are softer and the stars even brighter. We are blessed with relatively unpolluted skies so the stars are a great display.
(3) The leaves of the trees are glistening with new growth. In late winter the leaves start gradually to fall, but the trees are never bare. Now the new growth is taking off.
(4) The woodpeckers in the dead palm next to our house are back home in the palm and very active. The female is always pecking away, arranging the nest holes. They are either gone further south in the so-called winter or hibernating. Every morning, when I go out to get the paper delivered to my driveway, they sound off. It's probably a warning, "Look out , the big jerk's around," or, I choose to think, they're saying, "Good morning!" Whatever, they're back and great fun to watch. Fortunately, there's no wood in my house: a tile roof, stucco, plastic and aluminum are the main materials, although I hear them in the early mornings pecking at the tile roof.
In another few weeks in April, the humidity will rise and the temperatures start to soar, so we enjoy this brief episode of spring. Carpe diem!
We have had gorgeous weather here the last few weeks with warm days without humidity and cool nights. Now I am perceiving the subtle signs of spring which are not so obvious as they are in the north. Some of the signs are:
(1) The air is getting a softness, a gentle touch where, even when the winds come up, the bite of the wind is missing,
(2) The nights are softer and the stars even brighter. We are blessed with relatively unpolluted skies so the stars are a great display.
(3) The leaves of the trees are glistening with new growth. In late winter the leaves start gradually to fall, but the trees are never bare. Now the new growth is taking off.
(4) The woodpeckers in the dead palm next to our house are back home in the palm and very active. The female is always pecking away, arranging the nest holes. They are either gone further south in the so-called winter or hibernating. Every morning, when I go out to get the paper delivered to my driveway, they sound off. It's probably a warning, "Look out , the big jerk's around," or, I choose to think, they're saying, "Good morning!" Whatever, they're back and great fun to watch. Fortunately, there's no wood in my house: a tile roof, stucco, plastic and aluminum are the main materials, although I hear them in the early mornings pecking at the tile roof.
In another few weeks in April, the humidity will rise and the temperatures start to soar, so we enjoy this brief episode of spring. Carpe diem!
Friday, March 11, 2011
TWO RULES OF LIFE---BY FLESHPOT
Reading in the papers about Jim Tresell, coach of Ohio State, and his slap on the wrist from Ohio State, who fined him $250,000 and banned him from coaching the first two games of next season for failing to report in a timely manner his knowledge of the sale (or bartering) of Ohio State clothing by several key players, makes me chuckle. Just more of the moral hypocrisy of the sporting world. Oh, perhaps the N.C.A.A. will impose a more severe fine on him, but I doubt it: look what they did to Jim Calhoun, the UConn basketball coach who has a record of infractions that makes Tresell look like an archangel.
I also note Tresell has written a new book: "Life Promises for Success: Promises from God for Achieving Your Best." Is the book as long as the title?
All of which leads me to two rules of life that I have learned from bitter experience which I will pass on to the three or four people (just kidding!) who read my blog. The first rule was gleaned from bitter experiences, especially with a crooked business partner and many other phonies whom I have run into during my life. The second rule came from many years of human observation.
Here are my two cardinal rules:
(1) Never trust anyone who injects the name of God or Jesus Christ into a business situation or deal---you will for certain be screwed.
(2) You can be certain that principle will never get in the way of profit.
These two simple rules have never ceased to amaze me and have rarely, if ever, not come to pass. I would be delighted if I could be proved regularly wrong.
I also note Tresell has written a new book: "Life Promises for Success: Promises from God for Achieving Your Best." Is the book as long as the title?
All of which leads me to two rules of life that I have learned from bitter experience which I will pass on to the three or four people (just kidding!) who read my blog. The first rule was gleaned from bitter experiences, especially with a crooked business partner and many other phonies whom I have run into during my life. The second rule came from many years of human observation.
Here are my two cardinal rules:
(1) Never trust anyone who injects the name of God or Jesus Christ into a business situation or deal---you will for certain be screwed.
(2) You can be certain that principle will never get in the way of profit.
These two simple rules have never ceased to amaze me and have rarely, if ever, not come to pass. I would be delighted if I could be proved regularly wrong.
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
TALK NOW, THINK LATER
“How can any reasonably intelligent person, you might ask yourself, accept the big lie that many conservative Republicans have long touted: that the simple formula of lower taxes and limited government will somehow solve all of the complex economic and social problems in an globally integrated world? And yet that is the pabulum that a whole host of Republican presidential hopefuls offer again and again to their base, and, through media coverage, to the rest of us. If you repeat the big lie often enough, some people -- many people, in fact -- begin to believe it.” I’m quoting from an article in the Huffington Post by Paul Stoller, a Professor of Anthropology at West Chester State, and to me he’s right on the money.
Today seems to be a new era of simple answers, The Age of Simplicity, historians might call it. I realize the average joe likes to have his ideas chewed, swallowed and digested so these ideas are in a nice easy cud and he can just reach out and grab a convenient one and take it for his or her own. Stoller is right: it’s pabulum.
That’s why in Congress sound bites have become the order of the day. They sound sonorous and ringing as they trip off the congressmen’s tongues. But, I ask you, are they thought out, thoroughly considered?
I simply wish they would form committees, bipartisan, of course, sit down and think things out, argue, find points of agreement, compromise and submit rational plans. That’s the way democracy is supposed to work. I do believe that is what the founding fathers had in mind when they signed the Constitution. I don’t mind fiery debates, that’s part of the process. Deal with the essentials honestly and realistically. But start the process, for God’s sake---and for our economic and social health. And some of these Presidential hopefuls might like to join the process, too. It would be refreshing to hear them say something thoughtful and meaningful.
Maybe that’s too simple in this Age of Simplicity
Today seems to be a new era of simple answers, The Age of Simplicity, historians might call it. I realize the average joe likes to have his ideas chewed, swallowed and digested so these ideas are in a nice easy cud and he can just reach out and grab a convenient one and take it for his or her own. Stoller is right: it’s pabulum.
That’s why in Congress sound bites have become the order of the day. They sound sonorous and ringing as they trip off the congressmen’s tongues. But, I ask you, are they thought out, thoroughly considered?
I simply wish they would form committees, bipartisan, of course, sit down and think things out, argue, find points of agreement, compromise and submit rational plans. That’s the way democracy is supposed to work. I do believe that is what the founding fathers had in mind when they signed the Constitution. I don’t mind fiery debates, that’s part of the process. Deal with the essentials honestly and realistically. But start the process, for God’s sake---and for our economic and social health. And some of these Presidential hopefuls might like to join the process, too. It would be refreshing to hear them say something thoughtful and meaningful.
Maybe that’s too simple in this Age of Simplicity
Thursday, March 3, 2011
AND THE OSCAR GOES TO...
Having been inspired by the fact that the Oscars were just awarded, I must make my A.O.M. (Asshole of the Month ) awards. It is a stiff competition with many contenders, but here goes in ascending order:
(5) Christina Aguilera. Botching the National Anthem at the Super Bowl was pretty bad. but then add in the recent arrest for DUI for her and her charming boyfriend makes for a total package.
(4) Hugo Chavez. The Venzuelan President has always suffered from foot-in-mouth disease, but El Presidente exceeded his lunatic standards by offering to support his buddy, Monmar Gaddafi.
(3) John Galliano. The British-born designer for Dior shot off his mouth loud and clear in bars, restaurants and other public venues on several occasions with virulent anti-Semitic remarks. He is being indicted in Paris, and it cost him his job.
(2) Charlie Sheen. What gives with this guy? A pure case of self-destruction generated by his drug and booze life style. A couple million per episode of Two and a Half Men obviously doesn't buy happiness.
(1) And the winner is----Monmar Gaddafi. Overwhelmingly the winner for a lifetime of butchery, corruption and pure evil, culminating in the Libyan revolt. May he be deposed and rot in hell.
Many more contend for this list. Feel free to add your own choices.
(5) Christina Aguilera. Botching the National Anthem at the Super Bowl was pretty bad. but then add in the recent arrest for DUI for her and her charming boyfriend makes for a total package.
(4) Hugo Chavez. The Venzuelan President has always suffered from foot-in-mouth disease, but El Presidente exceeded his lunatic standards by offering to support his buddy, Monmar Gaddafi.
(3) John Galliano. The British-born designer for Dior shot off his mouth loud and clear in bars, restaurants and other public venues on several occasions with virulent anti-Semitic remarks. He is being indicted in Paris, and it cost him his job.
(2) Charlie Sheen. What gives with this guy? A pure case of self-destruction generated by his drug and booze life style. A couple million per episode of Two and a Half Men obviously doesn't buy happiness.
(1) And the winner is----Monmar Gaddafi. Overwhelmingly the winner for a lifetime of butchery, corruption and pure evil, culminating in the Libyan revolt. May he be deposed and rot in hell.
Many more contend for this list. Feel free to add your own choices.
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
SCREW THE GOLDEN YEARS!
While returning from my driveway this early morning after retrieving the newspapers, I slipped and fell hard on my right hip. I think I'm O.K., just bruised, but it so happens I have a doctor's appointment this afternoon---happy serendipity---and he can check me out. My sprinkler system comes on three days a week in the early morning, and I think wet sandals caused me to slip once I came into the garage with its concrete floors. I've noted before concrete does not get softer with age! The old cliche about growing old is not for sissies immediately came to mind. Falling is one of the frequent misfortunes of getting old as our balance becomes more precarious. My wife forbids me to get on a ladder, other than a small one, to change a light bulb, and even then she hovers next to me.
I feel lucky compared to a recent fall by our woman priest's husband. He is a big guy, 6'5" and a good 250 pounds. While his wife, the rector of our church, was in Chicago at a meeting, he was being the good husband, clipping overgrown vegetation off his porch. He leaned against the railing to reach one more errant branch, and the railing, which turned out to be rotten, collapsed and he fell twelve feet, breaking two ribs and fracturing his spine at L1 and L5 (that is high and low). Somehow, he staggered to his feet and made his way up the steps and lay down on his bed. His wife happened to call to check in; he reluctantly told her the story, and she called a doctor friend nearby who came over and promptly called the ambulance. As I write this, he is undergoing surgery at the local hospital.
A couple of years ago, my brother-in-law in England was on a ladder clipping overgrown grape vines on a trellis, and he fell off the ladder, smashing his face against a stone urn below. He is a retired Lieutenant-Colonel in the British Army and keeps fit by running. In his state of shock, he grabbed a tooth that was knocked out, staggered, holding a towel to his bleeding face, to his dentist a couple of blocks away. The receptionist almost screamed when she saw him and called an ambulance. He was rushed to the hospital. Speaking of serendipity, guess who was on duty that day? Another Lieutenant-Colonel in the British Army who happened to be a facial surgeon! Three and a half hours later, seven plates and fourteen titanium screws later, his face was repaired---and you can't see a scar today!
That is why we old farts have to be careful, lest we tarnish these "Golden Years"!
I feel lucky compared to a recent fall by our woman priest's husband. He is a big guy, 6'5" and a good 250 pounds. While his wife, the rector of our church, was in Chicago at a meeting, he was being the good husband, clipping overgrown vegetation off his porch. He leaned against the railing to reach one more errant branch, and the railing, which turned out to be rotten, collapsed and he fell twelve feet, breaking two ribs and fracturing his spine at L1 and L5 (that is high and low). Somehow, he staggered to his feet and made his way up the steps and lay down on his bed. His wife happened to call to check in; he reluctantly told her the story, and she called a doctor friend nearby who came over and promptly called the ambulance. As I write this, he is undergoing surgery at the local hospital.
A couple of years ago, my brother-in-law in England was on a ladder clipping overgrown grape vines on a trellis, and he fell off the ladder, smashing his face against a stone urn below. He is a retired Lieutenant-Colonel in the British Army and keeps fit by running. In his state of shock, he grabbed a tooth that was knocked out, staggered, holding a towel to his bleeding face, to his dentist a couple of blocks away. The receptionist almost screamed when she saw him and called an ambulance. He was rushed to the hospital. Speaking of serendipity, guess who was on duty that day? Another Lieutenant-Colonel in the British Army who happened to be a facial surgeon! Three and a half hours later, seven plates and fourteen titanium screws later, his face was repaired---and you can't see a scar today!
That is why we old farts have to be careful, lest we tarnish these "Golden Years"!
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