Give the man the respect he so well deserves

It is fitting that during his final "Tonight" show, Jay Leno showed clips from Rodney Dangerfield, whose famous line was "I don't get no respect." In a sense, neither does Leno. Even as he crushed David Letterman in the late-night ratings, many critics continued to swoon over Letterman and, at best, make snide remarks about Leno's success. But Jay has a way of connecting with people that Letterman does not, and I, for one,  respect that. I'll be looking forward to Leno's new show in the fall at a time when I will be fully awake to watch it.

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During my last week at work before retiring nearly four years ago, I was sick as a swine yet I came to work every day. I was alternately sweating and cold, and felt extremely weak.   I often wonder why I still came to work. It certainly wasn't because I was expecting a farewell party; I had made it clear that I wanted none. Maybe it was the work ethic that has been part of me since I had my first job at age 10. Or maybe I feared that people would think I really wasn't sick and was just goofing off in my final week. (Why I should care what they thought is another question.) Maybe I thought I wasn't really sick and this was just an emotional last-week thing. In any event, it wasn't till I was through with the job that my problem was diagnosed: I had Lyme Disease. Fortunately, it wasn't contagious or I would have been the one giving my colleagues a farewell "gift."

Enough strutting and fretting for one lifetime

Watching "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" last night, I found myself wondering whether I, like the movie's title character, would like to get younger and younger. I decided that, knowing what I know now, I wouldn't make the same mistakes over again -- just different ones. The more I thought about getting younger, the more frightening the prospect seemed to be. Maybe it's a good thing that we have, in Shakespeare's metaphor, just one hour upon the stage. 

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Speaking of the film, it is amazing that Hollywood could turn a short story of 20 or so pages into an epic that lasts nearly three hours.

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Gee, it's almost three weeks and I still haven't received notice that my rebate submission has been accepted. (see entry for April 28.)

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Shane McGowan of The Pogues has one of the most distinct voices in the world of music. Note that I said "distinct," not "great."

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Jimmy Carter may well be our finest ex-president.

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My subconscious may finally be giving me a break. Although I have been retired nearly four years, I used to dream every night that I was still at work, a scary thought. Now I only dream that every third night or so.