In the old days, a man like the Godfather would have cut a deal with the powers that be—wherever and whomever they were. He didn’t concern himself with the correct punctuation. His deal offerings always seemed to work out. I loved when Marlon spoke softly and with great refinement: “I offered him a deal he couldn’t refuse.”
Society, especially in our great state of California, is being made crazier by the minute—or is just me who can’t understand what in the world our politicians are trying to do with us business people?
WHAT, IN THE NAME OF HELL, ARE THEY UP TO NOW?
Without exception, the folks who were designated by us to lay down the rules we follow were, by and large, put into their position by us. We voted them into office. None of them have felt the extreme severity of the financial crises we, their employers, have been relegated to endure during the course of the last fifteen months. In my less than humble opinion, it has become scientifically effectuated. Those of us who have been vaccinated or been cured of Covid-19, are safe to fully return to participating in society the way it was before the virus struck.
For those of you who are interested in finding the truth for yourselves, examine the track record the United States citizens have been privileged to since the time of your individual birthdate. For me personally, the number of vaccines and/or curatives during my lifetime is far more than merely impressive. Google: “vaccines invented since the early thirties”. It’s enough to fill a book. At eighty-seven years of age, I’m considered a reasonably healthy dude. Every injection science has offered up has worked on me without a hitch, thank God. The same goes for Cathy and my two daughters.
All of us should take a deep and deserved breath. Science has worked well for us. I, for one, plan on returning to work as quickly as possible. I’ve been successfully vaccinated. That being said, here’s the absurdity of our politicians’ delinquency of pure thought and misdirection: If I can’t give it, and I can’t get it, why in the name of hell should I be wearing a mask?
…And one more thing.
At the top of this merciless thing, I referred to as “being sane”, or better stated, “in search of sanity”, isn’t an implication I have reached a state of sanity. At best, I am in constant search of it, considering I have spent an enormous part of my existence attempting to stimulate a degree of truth, emanating from the abnormal number of thespians who have inadvertently from time to time sought out the abundance of my well-disguised directorial skills.
Note: It was some fifty years hence when not yet “da harv” first discovered one or two things which were to become a constant prevalence during his lifetime in this wrongly labeled attempt at survival of those of us seemingly endowed with the uncommon attribute of creativity. In other words, I became aware of my brilliant power of observation.
1. The theatre is a tough racket to succeed at—or in—if you can even get in in the first place.
2. Especially when you join the less-than-elated groups of husbands and wives, who are both actors and decide to raise a family while simultaneously attempting suicide by way of mutual starvation!
Like they often say in our trade, “I couldn’t get arrested if I tried.”