50 Ways To Play Canasta. With Apologies To Paul Simon. Sing Along!

The other night Barb and I began teaching some good friends Canasta. For those of you who don’t know, it is an old card game that has regained popularity. It’s played with two decks of cards, a scorepad, and lots and lots of rules, many of which seem entirely arbitrary. “House rules” are also a staple. It’s a tough game to learn, so I thought I would teach it with a song.

Beth and Ira, this one’s for you.

(To the tune of 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover)

[Verse 1] To play this card game is not really hard, you'll see.
You're dealt ten cards and then you get another three
And with luck the cards you get aren't too crappy,
There must be 50 rules to play Canasta.
50 rules to play Canasta.

[Verse 2] I said "it's seven of a kind that you must get.
Your partner joins you, in your quest to make a set.
It's not a solo game it's more of a duet."
There must be 50 ways to win Canasta.
50 ways to win Canasta.

[Verse 3] There's lots of  wild cards that can help you in your quest.
The twos and Jokers, they can get you to the crest.
Put them together and that's probably the best!
There's 50 ways to win Canasta.
50 ways to win Canasta

[Chorus] Put your cards in your rack, Mack.
Don't show me your hand, Jan.
That's a good ploy, boy.
Play your aces with glee.
Don't make a big fuss, Russ
It's not mysterious, just
Drop off your threes, Bea.
That's the way it must be.

Put your cards in your rack, Mack.
Don't show me your hand, Jan.
That's a good ploy, boy.
Play your aces with glee.
Don't make a big fuss, Russ
It's not mysterious, just
Drop off your threes, Bea.
That's the way it must be.

[Verse 4] I said don't play those sevens, girl, you'll just get screwed
They'll count against you and you'll be in a foul mood.
The risk ain't worth until more sevens you've accrued,
There's 50 ways to lose Canasta.
50 ways to lose Canasta.

[Verse 5] "A special hand is what I want to get," she said.
"If you don't make it--go home with someone else instead."
It doesn't matter if your cards are black or red.
There must be 50 ways to lose Canasta.
50 ways to lose Canasta.

[Verse 6] Perhaps it's best to stick to tiles and to Mah Jongg.
No partner yelling if perchance you get it wrong.
Plenty of direct flights go from here into Hong Kong
There's 50 ways to quit Canasta.
50 ways to quit Canasta.

[Chorus]Put your cards in your rack, Mack.
Don't show me your hand, Jan.
That's a good ploy, boy.
Play your aces with glee.
Don't make a big fuss, Russ
It's not mysterious, just
Drop off your threes, Bea.
That's the way it must be.

Put your cards in your rack, Mack.
Don't show me your hand, Jan.
That's a good ploy, boy.
Play your aces with glee.
Don't make a big fuss, Russ
It's not mysterious, just
Drop off your threes, Bea.
That's the way it must be.

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You can always get a hold of me at chidoc@post.com Look forward to hearing from you.

Marlo Thomas, Why Are You Haunting Me?

It’s a creepy feeling. The feeling you get when suddenly a new person’s posts start appearing in your Facebook feed. Someone who you don’t know and you don’t care about. You can’t fathom why you should suddenly be seeing their stories, their missives to their loving spouses, and their Fathers’ Day remembrances of their gone but much-missed parent.

So for the last week, I have been a bit creeped out to open my Facebook page and find another post by Marlo Thomas. Yes, that Marlo Thomas, That Girl herself.

There is nothing inherently wrong with Marlo Thomas’s posts. She shows photos of herself with her husband Phil Donahue; she remembers her daddy Danny; she sends out a message of peace and love on Juneteenth. It is wholesome and uplifting and just what you would expect.

So why does it give me the shivers? I just can’t figure out how the Facebook algorithm decided to share Marlo and Phil’s life with me. I am quite certain that I have never said her name aloud in our kitchen where Alexa might overhear and report the info to Facebook. I have never done a Google search on Ms. Thomas, nor asked ChatGPT what it would be like to be Marlo Thomas. And a comprehensive review of my nearly eight years of blogging would not bring up her name even once. So why the new Facebook connection?

Of course, I am not unaware of the existence of Marlo Thomas. As a youngster, Make Room for Daddy was one of my favorite shows (yes I know, Angela Cartwright, not Marlo, played Danny’s daughter.) The mid-1960s brought us That Girl and although it wasn’t quite as compelling as The Mary Tyler Moore Show it was ok. It had a hat toss now and then and it introduced the world to Ted Bessell before he went on to fame and fortune in Me and the Chimp.

Marlo does have a Chicago connection, marrying Phil Donahue during the period when The Phil Donahue Show was being produced here. I even saw Marlo in a Chicago theater role here a few years later, as she starred in the Briar Street Theater production of Six Degrees of Separation. No hat tossing or Ted Bessell with that one.

In recent years, we all saw her fundraising for St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital. For her good works, she has been presented with the Presidential Medal of Freedom. She is a beacon to all.

I just can’t figure out how she wound up invading my Facebook space. Who is going to be next, Agent 99?

You can always get a hold of me at chidoc@post.com. I look forward to hearing from you.

United Airlines Makes Me An Offer. Can I Refuse?

Like many of you, Barb and I have travel credit cards from a few different airlines. When we use them we accumulate an airline mile or two for every dollar we spend. When we purchase flights using the cards we enjoy perks like free baggage checking and slightly early boarding. And there is a nice extra that we always forget to use, once-a-year admission to a fancy airport lounge.

We carefully nurture our miles, hoping to earn enough for a big trip somewhere, someday. But I admire United Airlines for seeking out creative new ways for getting us to redeem our hard-earned credits. Today’s email from the airline invited me, as one of a select group of card owners, “to join us in our brand-new, state-of-the-art training facility in Houston as you spend a day in the life of a flight attendant.” At the amazingly low cost of 10,000 miles!

My pulse is racing as I envision the exciting day in Houston. The invitation promises not just a tour, but also chances to sit in on Flight Attendant Classes, to slide down evacuation slides, and even to simulate a water landing–what the airlines call “wet ditching.” Sure sounds like the most fun I have had since Disneyworld…not. And did I mention that “light breakfast items” and lunch are included? I bet there will be enough food to cover a whole tray table, while my neighbor hogs the armrest.

Sadly, I think United’s marketing people sent this invitation to the wrong person. With all the information they have on file about me they should know this 67-year-old retiree who has never been in the service industry is not all that interested in how United Airlines trains their in-air staff. This exclusive offer should have found a better offeree.

If I’m going to go for training in Houston, it will either be to learn how to cheat from the Houston Astros or get the hang of flying to the moon at NASA’s Johnson Space Center. I want to fly high with the big boys!

Disney Devotees Divided. I Am Overwhelmed By Responses To My Modest Proposal.

Through the years, I have blogged on some controversial topics. With my tongue firmly in cheek I have bitten Biden, trashed Trump, grumbled for gun control, and campaigned for the Constitution.

But I bit off more than I could chew when I floated my feelings for the Manor of the Mouse.

Loyal readers will recall that a week ago I blogged an open letter to Bob Iger, CEO of the Disney Corporation. I let Bob know of my dream for Disney World, a dream where the Colossus of Disney Artificial Intelligence would create a free phone app that all park visitors would use to ensure easy access, shorter lines, and a better food experience. I named my app Disney Daze, and it is still Bob’s for the taking.

To my subscribers and other regular readers, the piece was a ho-hummer–a few comments and a thumbs up or two. No big deal.

But then, like a storm chaser hunting the next big tornado, I posted a transcript of my blog on the pages of two Facebook groups dedicated to visitors to Disney World. I found the storm I was looking for.

To be clear, the response was overwhelmingly positive. The Facebook posts received hundreds of smiles, hugs, and hearts. There were plenty of comments saying “Great Idea!” and “I wish this existed when I took my five kids to Disney.”

But I unleashed a horde of people who were not so happy with my idea proposal…

“Who wants to be tethered to their phone all day?” responded people who responded so quickly after I posted that they were obviously tethered to their phones anyway.

“Who says the lines are too long? We only spent 50 minutes waiting for Remy’s Ratatouille Adventure,” said people who apparently thought having to wait for almost an hour to go on the adventure was superior to not having to wait almost an hour to go on the adventure.

Some folks advised me to try Genie+, an app they claimed would do everything my app would do. After using Genie+ for a week in Orlando, I can tell you that this balky and confusing app that requires users to start pinging it a 7 am is not what I have in mind!

I was a bit surprised by people who claimed the food at Disney was already magnificent and memorable, virtually Michelin-star quality. And of course, I got the “if you hate Disney the way it is then you should never go there,” comments, the Mouse version of “America, Love it or Leave It.” So 1970s!

Perhaps my favorite comment was from the fellow who compared me to a 19th-century British economist, though not in a good way. Still, I consider the comparison a rare honor.

My conclusion is that Disney World, much like Donald Trump, has a hardcore base that will never ever leave it. And I wouldn’t be too surprised if the examination of a Venn diagram of those two bases would show a lot of overlap. But that is a story for another day and for a sociologist, not a 19th-century economist.

No One Expects The Braggish Inquisition!

We have enjoyed our friends at Monty Python once before. So glad to see them back together again as we revisit their most famous skit.

Scene: Florida. A large private room in the Mar-a-Lago Resort. Those present are Former President Donald Trump and his attorneys Todd Blanche, Susan Necheles, and Joe Tacopina. They are gathered around a 75″ TV screen showing Tucker Carlson, while Tacopina studies his cell phone:

Tacopina: Trouble in New York
Necheles: Oh no – what kind of trouble?
Tacopina (distracted, mumbling): Theee ae ging t char Pent Trp.
Blanche: Pardon?
Tacopina (still mumbling): Theee ae ging t char Pent Trp.
Necheles: I don’t understand what you’re saying.
Tacopina (irritated and over-enunciating): They are going to charge President Trump.
Blanche: Well what on earth for?
Tacopina: Blimey I don’t know – I just got a text from my PA saying DA Bragg is going to charge President Trump. I didn’t expect you to give me the Braggish Inquisition.

[JARRING CHORD]
[The door flies open and New York District Attorney Alvin Bragg charges in, flanked by Stormy Daniels and Karen McDougal.

Bragg: NOBODY expects the Braggish Inquisition! My chief weapon is surprise…surprise and Michael Cohen…Michael Cohen and surprise… My two weapons are Michael Cohen and surprise…and all those checks he signed… My three weapons are Michael Cohen, surprise, and all those checks he signed…and the business documents that were falsified… My four...no… Amongst my weapons…. Amongst my weaponry…are such elements as Michael Cohen, surprise….blah, blah, blah. Stormy, read the charges!

Daniels: Former President Trump you are hereby charged that you did on diverse dates pay hush money to moi and did cause Michael Cohen to take out a home equity loan to pay for it. And then pay him back and cover it up.

McDougal: And don’t forget about you and me!

Bragg: Former President Trump, how do you plead?

Trump, Neheles, Tacopina, and Blanche (in unison): We’re innocent.

McDougal and Daniels (diabolical laughter): Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

Bragg: I will soon change your mind about that! I will use Michael Cohen, surprise, signed checks, business documents, yada, yada, yada…and the best known of our devices of torture…the Iron Maiden!

Bragg points to the door as Melania Trump enters the room.

Melania: Oh you stupid Donald. I have pictures of everything. And it will take more than $150,000 to get rid of me. A lot more. Besides, I can’t wait to see you in an orange prison jumpsuit to match your hair.

Bragg: NOW how do you plead?

Trump: Guilty! Guilty! Guilty! I’ll do anything to get away from her.

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Our Australia New Zealand Trip May Be Rated X. Find Out Why!

Now that Barb and I are home from our family-flavored week of fun in Orlando we are looking beyond the simulator adventures at Disney and Universal towards authentic thrills on our post-retirement journey to Australia and New Zealand. We have researched online, chatted with travel agents, studied cruise line brochures, and read the literature from two guided tour companies we have dealt with in the past, Tauck Tours and Abercrombie & Kent. Despite our efforts, we are no nearer to piecing together our Perfect Month Down Under than when we started.

To try to resolve the issue I gave Google an audible request to once again search for “Tauck Tours in Australia.” Perhaps I was mumbling, perhaps there was too much background noise, or perhaps I was drooling over the thought of a Vegemite sandwich, but for whatever reason, my iPhone misheard me, and instead of searching for Tauck Tours it did a (very thorough) search for “Talk to whores in Australia.”

Shazam! I was given a whole new outlook on our future plans! Now admittedly, I had not anticipated talking to ladies of the night (or in Oz is it “ladies of the morning”?) on our trip. I don’t believe I have talked to hookers on any previous vacation. In fact, it is doubtful I have ever intentionally talked to one, at home or abroad. But this seemed like a Google challenge.

So did I dare to click on any of the provided links? With no wish to be immediately harangued with ads for every sex product under the sun, and no desire for Russian scammers to reveal my prurient searches to friends, family, and co-workers if I did not send them $10,000 worth of bitcoin by the end of the day, I decided not to click my way through to any of the beauties that I knew were just one small mouse click away. I let the opportunity pass.

I am sure that we will make our voyage sometime in the next year. By land, sea, or air we will see the wonderous sites of Australasia, from Melbourne to Wellington, from Ayres Rock to the Marlborough Wine Region. But have I passed up the chance to say to a stunning Ozzie Prozzie, “G’day Mate. Can I slip another shrimp on your Barbie?”

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President Biden, Let Me Be Your Dave.

Hey fellow Democrats, have I got a plan for you!

I hatched the whole plot on a chilly, sunny, day earlier this week. Walking into the house I saw my reflection in the glass door pane. And for a split-second, just for an instant, I thought I was looking at our nation’s Commander-in-Chief, our President, the Honorable Joseph R. Biden. Maybe it was the sunglasses, maybe it was the white hair, but the slight resemblance was there.

Now, this similarity is not necessarily complimentary to me. After all, Joe B is 14 years older than I am. But for Democratic voters, those 14 years are the problem, and I am the solution.

We all remember the movie Dave, right? Kevin Kline stars as a nobody who happens to look like the President, and is recruted to impersonate him after the President suffers a secret stroke. My plan, and you need to hear me out on this, is to let me be this year’s Dave!

The 2024 Presidential Election is right around the corner. We anticipate that Good Ole Joe will announce his plans to run for re-election shortly. The issue with that re-election run is that too many potential Biden voters are concerned about the President’s age.

What, they worry, will happen if Biden suffers a stroke, a heart attack, or a sudden death. Are we all comfortable with Kamala Harris assuming the Presidency, temporarily or gasp, permanently? Might that fear push some centrist Dems, some staunch independents, and some RINO/Never-Trumper Republicans to all get behind a semi-sane GOP candidate such as Nikki Haley? Will we have to suffer a potential red wave on the horizon?

I think we need to change the impression of Biden as old and ready to fall down in a stiff breeze–and do it now, while there is still time. So let me be the Prez’s stand-in. I can sign bills (if a divided Congress can pass any) with a flourish. I can give State of the Union addresses and then cartwheel down the aisles of the Senate Chamber. I can be videoed doing my sweaty morning regimen of elliptical riding, push-ups, and planks. I’d even submit to some bare-chested shots à la Putin. All to show a hale and healthy “Biden” that people would be comfortable voting for.

I realize this opportunity will necessitate a move to the DC area and secret living arrangements. Now that I am retired I can do that. I just have to make sure that nobody inside the Beltway recognizes me, especially not my nephew and his wife. They tend to be Republican and might spill the beans.

I do realize that there is a risk that the real President might suffer an incapacitating incident or perhaps even expire while in office. I will just carry on the ruse, Weekend at Bernie’s style. Mr. Biden’s State Funeral will have to wait until his term is over.

So, Democratic National Party, I am waiting to hear from you. I think we can make it work, don’t you?

I Am A Premature Flasher. Can You Help Me? (It’s NOT What You Think!)

I have a problem. It is something I first noticed a year or two ago. Sadly, it seems to be getting worse. I am sure Barb is aware of my issue, but we have never talked about it. In fact, she has never mentioned it at all. But it is there. And I don’t know whether or not there is any help for me.

You see, I am a premature flasher. I am the guy in the car in front of you who starts to signal his right turn three blocks before he is actually turning. If I am planning on making a lane change I flip that signal lever half a mile before my car slides over. I’m not trying to fool the drivers following me, I just can’t help myself.

There are regulations detailing when a driver should start signaling. I vaguely remember reading them in “Rules of the Road” when I was sixteen and studying for my first driver’s license exam (the only test I failed in high school.) And I have read this current online recommendation:

“Put your turn signal on approximately 100 feet before you reach the intersection. When driving on the highway and indicating an exit, lane change, or overtake, start your indicator lights approximately 900 feet before you make the change.”
Idrivesafely.com

100 feet? 900 feet? That’s what the experts recommend? No doubt about it, I am signaling my intentions waaay too soon. Highway, toll road, local through-street, it doesn’t matter. Once I know I am going to be turning, that signal gets clicked on, and like an old-time Timex watch it just keeps on clicking.

Does it make me a better, safer, driver? Of course not. All it does is confuse the Lyft driver behind me. “Where the heck is that moron going to turn?” they mutter in Arabic or Swahili to their passengers. Or maybe they think I am one of those space cadets who is staring at his phone and doesn’t even realize the signal is blinking away.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not saying I am any more dangerous than the cretins who zip in and out of traffic without signaling at all. They are a hazard to (my) life and limb. At worst (I hope) the only thing the premature signaling does is slow traffic down just a bit.

But what if this affliction gets worse? What if I feel compelled to turn on my right turn signal as soon I pull out of our garage and then alternate the left and right blinkers non-stop as I drive to Woodman’s Grocery or to Target? Good thing I am not driving to the lab anymore!

So if you know a solution to my problem, or a therapist you can refer me to, please text, DM, or email me. At this point, I would even settle for an online support group. As embarrassing as it is to admit it, I need help!

I Have A Big Announcement To Make. Read On So You Won’t Miss Out!

Friends and Blog Readers:

I know that there is nothing that you would rather spend your hard-earned cash on than…me. And now I am giving you the opportunity to own a very special piece of yours truly.

Yes, now you can buy me! Well, not me exactly, but wonderful trading cards that feature me. And they are not exactly trading cards. These are NFTs of me. My backer in this enterprise, a curly-haired wild man by the name of Sam Something-or-other, tells me NFT stands for non-fungible tokens. That makes no sense at all, but as I understand it, I get to sell all of you the rights to things worth about as much as the chocolate Hannukah gelt my grandkids play with. Or maybe worth as much as bitcoin. (That’s something else I just don’t get.)

Instant delivery, so if you act now, you can have these wonderful NFT trading cards of moi to give as holiday stocking stuffers. There are three fantastic Super Hero action poses; me as DishwasherMan. me as DogWalkerDude, and of course the best one, me as DoctorAmerica (only available for two more weeks.)

I know you are already reaching for your wallet. And here’s today’s special deal. Each card normally sells for the low, low price of $35. But if you act today, you can get the full set for $100. That’s a ginormous $5 savings!

And if you are wondering where the money goes, all profits will go directly to me. None will go into a campaign fund if I change my mind and decide to run for Village Trustee and none will go into my legal defense fund (if I ever should need one–no charges are currently pending. That was all just a little misunderstanding.)

Act now! To order your set of these exclusive, limited edition, Les Raff Super NFT Trading Cards call 244-794-6353 (BIG-SWINDLE.) Better still, order a dozen sets to give to all the loved ones in your life. Operators are standing by to take your ~~money~~ call!

See you when the next scam comes along!

The My Fair Lady Project, Part 4: I’m An Ordinary Man

The project continues. In the original Ordinary Man, Henry Higgins lets us know just the type of man he really is. If only Donald Trump would do the same!

(For a look at the original wonderful Lerner and Loew lyrics, click here.)

I'm an unassuming  man
Who desires nothing more in life than to take a forceful stance
To do exactly as I like to as the country I advance
A striking man am I, I'm crazy to a tee.
I want to just preside
'Tis Cut and dried
Doing whatever I think is best for me
Well, just an unassuming man

But -- let McConnell in my life 
And my majority is through
He will let Joe Biden roam
Until to the door I'm shown
And then I'm off to plan my newest coup

Let DeSantis in my life
And perhaps I'm heading to a fall
Just the blind leading the blind
He's like me but more refined
And so the MAGA camp is split up, I just want to spit up, he's got gall!

I want to lead a Red Cap rally
The FIBS are searching through my desk
I want to change the election tally
My life is nothing but burlesque!

Let Giuliani take my side
It's rowing against the tide
He will act just like a fool
A loser in the white gene pool
I'd be better of denying
That to win it I was trying
Than to ever let Giuliani take my side

I'm a very harmless man
Calm collected self-directed I would never make a fuss 
I never bother any person as long as they say they love us
A glorious man am I, one with so many charms
You know I've always spun, for Number One
Never the man to set off bloke alarms
A very harmless man

But, let Bill Barr into my life
And vote steals are hard to prove
He will say it's all bull-shit, 
That its time for me to quit
He'll prove that he's a RINO 
And give himself a fine glow
For his next move!

I am a man sophisticated
Who knows his white wines from his red
It's those nuts to whom I'm related
That make me wish that I were dead. 

Oh!

I let Pence into my life
He is worse than any wife.
I gave the man a chance
To prove some balls were in his pants
But he failed in his position as the leader of sedition
Should've never let Mike Pence into my life.

I'm a most amazing man
My mind is sharper than a genius, I know more than Albert E
I learn all the facts I need to just by watching Fox TV
A brilliant man am I who plays by all the rules
Like those of bankruptcy, and you see
I know just how to use financial tools
Just a most amazing man

But, let the Times into my life
And they will go right after me.
In headlines and in Op-eds
They will rip my words to shreds
They'll fake news me and confuse me
And never say excuse me, yes it's true!

The Dems are painting me a bully
They think I am so crass
They plan to win the mid-term voting
But I am going to kick their f'ing ass

Oh!

Don't let McCarthy in your life

Don't let Pelosi in your life

I shall never let a loser in my life

———–

This is episode 4 of our My Fair Lady project, using a title or lyric from each song in the original Broadway cast album to inform or inspire a blog post.

Previous Posts in the series:

My Fair Lady Project Part 1: Overture

My Fair Lady Project Part 2: Why Can’t the English

My Fair Lady Project Part 3: Wouldn’t It be Loverly