I was talking to a beautiful girl. Perhaps I should write that I was speaking with a beautiful woman. Young woman might be a better description. In truth, she was far more interested in age than me. Her actual age is a state secret. It is sufficient to disclose that she is much younger than me.

She grouped and categorized her suitors by their ages, as if by going out with a twenty-one year old home for spring break would make her a coed again. Would a tryst with a thirty-eight year old result in grey hairs? Would dating a fifty year old, G-d forbid, necessitate Crestor and orthopedic shoes? This is normally the province of vain middle aged men reliving a youth that never happened.

I bring this to your attention as a way to highlight the diminishing differences between men and women. It is not unusual for women to focus on their age. My mother is still twenty-two. Really. Ask her. There are any number of industries dedicated to making women look and feel younger. Defining beauty, a moveable target, may involve hair, skin, clothing, plastic surgery, or even hideous things like Spanx. Men, potbellied and balding, measured their ages by their escorts, as if a twenty-eight year old is the equivalent of vitality. Another line got blurred today.

My friend is retaining her youth through her lovers.

 But there is a price for this – conversation. Some of these May / September relationships work. Many of them only succeed in the bedroom. What do you talk about when you don’t share any cultural references? Music, politics, and sports all have a timeline. The big moments, the big players are well known, but the perspective is very different. The Beatles, the first moon walk, and Richard Nixon’s resignation are very real to me. They would be history, important history at best, to someone just ten years younger than me. And someone twenty years younger, born in 1975, would have become politically aware as Reagan was leaving office. Are there shared events? Certainly. But the connections trend toward the physical.

My friend is retaining her youth through her lovers. It appears to be working. She has never looked better or more confident. So who am to judge? Still I wonder if the gentlemen know or care about her age. Would a thirty-one year old feel older and more mature is she was dating me? Is age contagious?

It appears that the only person you can always fool is yourself.

I got caught speeding 24/7 in a 35 – 40 zone. And when I hit the when I hit the wall, and I did, I didn’t stop or even slow down. I just kept on going.

I finally realized, the first week of February, that I had not had a day off since Thanksgiving. What was the tip-off? What did the wall feel like? It wasn’t the lingering cold. It wasn’t the bout of Shingles. It wasn’t even when my back went out and I had to
drag myself to the massage therapist.

My moment came while sitting at my desk, 10 o’clock in the morning, when I found myself contemplating that evening’s cigar. That’s when I knew that I had had enough.

Four months of intense effort had come to this. I had been working on several major cases, one huge and the others terribly complicated. And though I welcomed the challenges and the opportunity to mine thirty plus years of experience, I may have had too much of a good thing.

Some people talk about their inner child. I don’t have an inner child. Never did. I have an inner adult, and he is an even bigger S.O.B. than me! He hates waste. He accepts few excuses. There are no breaks till all of the work has been completed. No extras or luxuries until the necessities have been covered.

My vacation had been scheduled for months. The last week of February is dedicated to going someplace where Sally can get a real tan. Cancun, Punta Cana, or a cruise. She lays out in the sun while I enjoy the warmth and hide in the shade. We had booked a cruise and I was suddenly finding myself counting down the days till we left.

And when the time came, I took my laptop out of my luggage. My Blackberry afforded me limited contact with my office while I was gone, but I eliminated most of my access. I paid the price for this peace – 863 emails were waiting for me when I returned last Monday. Still, I got some needed rest and I’m ready to get back to work.

No tickets. No walls. I’m hoping to schedule another day off soon. I might even get in a little golf.

I hold in my hand my last Newsweek. A thirty year relationship ends this week.

Some people may view a weekly newsmagazine as an anachronism. Others may feel that a magazine subscription is a wasteful expenditure. And there are people who could never find the time to commit to reading a weekly. None of those apply to me.

I am not dropping Newsweek in favor of an online publication. I tend to print long articles from the New York Times and other publications when I find something of value online. I’m willing to spend the money on books or magazines to read at my leisure. And yes, I make time to read, to learn, and to understand what is happening both here in the States and around the world.

No, I am dropping Newsweek because Newsweek has abandoned me. The magazine that I hold in my hand more closely resembles the gossip rags one finds on the racks by the grocery store check-out and in doctors’ waiting rooms than the comprehensive newsmagazine I read and loved.

Tina Brown, Editor in Chief of Newsweek and The Daily Beast, is attempting to convert her online site into a tangible ink and paper publication. Instead of pictures enhancing articles, we now have copy explaining pictures. Lots and lots of pictures. Ads are up. Content is down. The magazine assumes that we have the attention span of a beagle. Paragraph. Paragraph. Squirrel!

I miss the great writers and thoughtful, in-depth reporting. There are weeks that I have scanned this version in less time than it would have taken to read a Fareed Zakaria article.

So good-bye Newsweek. Thank G-d I still have Esquire.

The dinner was phenomenal. Stuffed veal chop. Kosher! Sally was wearing a Sue Wong. I had on my tux. We were at the LaunchHouse Gala last Saturday evening at the Cleveland Skating Club. The people at our table were interesting. The dance band, terrific. Even the silent auction items were worth a bid or two.

How did we get here? All it required was a suspension of disbelief.

Two young guys, Dar Caldwell and Todd Goldstein, refused to accept what everyone knew to be true – that starting a business, any business, required a ton of money, that young people don’t want to stay in Cleveland, and that tech businesses can only be created on the coasts. Creating their incubator / business accelerator, Goldstein Caldwell and Associates, required a suspension of disbelief.

Todd and Dar were not alone. Last year they joined forces with the City of Shaker Heights. Through the leadership of Mayor Earl Leiken, and City Council members such as Nancy Moore, Lynn Ruffner, and Rob Zimmerman, Shaker’s Development Corporation created a special space for business in what had been an abandoned auto dealership. The City took a chance. The leaders chose to create instead of manage. They converted the building into a haven for people who refuse to accept conventional wisdom.

Dar, Todd, the City and others who were prepared to zig while everyone else zagged created LauchHouse. And Saturday night we were celebrating LaunchHouse’s success, dreaming of its future, and raising some of the money it will take to get us there.

We weren’t celebrating sizzle. We were celebrating steak or in my case, veal.

The time has come to aggressively pursue moderation.  It is time for us, the majority of Americans, to assert our right for representation in the statehouse, the House of Representatives, the Senate, and even in the White House.  It is time for us, the members of the 3 1 5, to elect one of our own. 

What/Where is the 3 1 5?  It is right here.  It is the middle.  On one extreme are those with faith in faithlessness and an almost slavish devotion to science.  This extreme can be represented by Pi or 3.14.  The other extreme sees the invisible hand of their G-d in everything, right down to the yardage gained by their football stars.  They can be represented by the New Testament verse 3:16 from the Book of John.   

3 1 4 on one extreme.  3 1 6 on the other.  Me?  I’m living in the 3 1 5. 

I watched the Republican debates this past week.  Four men vying for the most powerful position in the world were fighting over which was least likely to hunt down elderly illegal Mexican women who are busily making cookies and tacos for their grandchildren.

Of course, the grandmother debate was a welcome break from the usual discussions of abortion, Obamacare, and the bombing of Iran.  Thursday was the 19^th debate.  Even my Republican friends have stopped watching.

So Friday night I caught Real Time with Bill Maher.  Mr. Maher has made a fetish of attacking people of faith.  On last night’s show he assailed Mitt Romney for donating heavily to the Mormon Church and taking the appropriate tax deduction.  Mr. Maher would like to reduce faith in a higher power and all religion to believing in a talking snake.

We, the 3 1 5, are under siege.  It may be easy to laugh at Rick Santorum, a former US Senator who is running for President, Vice-President, or the part of Milhouse when The Simpsons finally come to Broadway, but there are people voting for him.  He may have won the Iowa Caucus.  And as much as he would like to limit the government’s regulatory involvement in business, he and his fellow Republican hopefuls wish to insert their religious beliefs into our personal lives.

The Democrats are far less concerned with our bedrooms.  In fact, the bedroom, or our interpersonal relationships, may be the only area they don’t wish to regulate.  My other blog, Health Insurance Issues With Dave, has discussed the government’s overreach into the payment and delivery of healthcare.  Another issue is the recently passed Dodd Frank legislation that was meant to prevent another 2008 style meltdown.  Yes, we needed more government oversight.  Unfortunately, we shot past more and went all of the way to excessive.

In an effort to correct one party’s excesses we elect the other side and get blindsided by their excesses.  Back and forth.  Back and forth.  We in the 3 1 5 suffer from whiplash as one extreme or the other gets their moment of power.

Do we, the 3 1 5, have a presidential candidate?  None come to mind.  Perhaps you could name a prospect or two?  It is time for us to give this some thought.  Stuck in the middle of a large lake, we are in a row boat with one oar.  We aren’t moving forward.  We won’t, we can’t, until we acquire a second oar and learn to use them in tandem.

Iowa, that wonderful combination of patriotism and payola, is finally behind us.  New Hampshire and South Carolina are next.  What do these first competitions tell us?  Sometimes, not much.  Much like a preseason football game, the participants risk a season ending injury while the winner gets little more than bragging rights.

The Iowa Caucuses are over, but the Cunix Caucus has just begun.  My last blog gave my readers the opportunity to predict the eventual Republican nominee and the winners of the 2012 Presidential and U.S. Senate races.  Fifteen of you chose to participate.  The results will be published this time next year.

Making predictions is tricky.  Some of my prognosticators voted with their heads.  Some used their hearts.  At least two reflected the real mood of the country.  And that mood is nervous.

My friend Dave, a guy who absolutely despises President Obama, predicted his reelection.  My friend Sandra, an unabashed Liberal, had Mitt Romney as the winner this November.  They have lost faith in the voting public and are positive that their candidate is going to lose.

This pessimism is reflected in the Right Direction / Wrong Track polling.  The January 4, 2012 polling revealed that 71% of the American public believes that we are on the wrong track.  71%!  Some feel that the President is taking us towards European style Socialism.  Others are sure that the Republicans are obstructing the President and preventing the Democrats from reviving the economy.

As always, there is plenty of blame for everyone involved.

As of today, January 9, 2012, all fifteen participants in the Cunix Caucus are batting 1000.  We will eventually have a winner.  It could even be me.  I just hope that the guy who gets elected, and now that Mrs. Bachmann is gone it will be a guy, will be the choice of the majority of the American people, not just someone who manages to score a plurality of the small minority of US citizens who bother to vote.

And now for something entirely different. 

Fragile

The strongest porcelain vase would shatter into a thousand pieces if it was pushed off of a shelf.  This beautiful vase had only been tipped a time or two.  Still, I could see the results.  A tiny crack here.  A chip or two reattached with Super Glue there.  It was no longer perfect, thus even more valuable than it had ever been before.

Welcome to the 2012 I Told You So Contest.  This is your opportunity to have your genius fully appreciated as you attempt to predict 2012 before it happens.  There is no cost to enter and the contest is open to anyone.  Please feel free to share this with all of the usual suspects – political pundits, market timers, and general know-it-alls (we know who we are). 

Though the contest is for fun, there are prizes.

1^st Prize – $50 Gift Card to Shuhei or the restaurant of your choice

2^nd Prize – Lunch with me

 The Rules:

All entries must be submitted to me by January 3, 2012.  The winner will be determined by the number of correct predictions.  In lieu of exactly correct answers, the closest to the correct answer will be given credit.  The decision of the judge (me) will be final.  The second tie breaker is a coin toss.

 Don’t be intimidated.  No one will get them all right. 

1. The Republican nominee will be ___________________________________.
2. The winner of the 2012 Presidential election will be _____________________.
3. The winner of the 2012 Ohio Senate race will be ________________________.
4. The winner of the February 5, 2012 Super Bowl will be ___________________.
5. The Cleveland Indians will win _____ regular season games.
6. The 2012 Cleveland Browns will win _______ regular season games.
7. The 2012 Academy Award for best picture will go to ______________________.
8. The Dow Jones Industrial Average will close on December 28, 2012 at ________.
9. There will be ____ justices of the US Supreme Court on December 31, 2012.
10. A gallon of milk will be $____ at Giant Eagle, Legacy village on June 30, 2012.

 Tie Breaker:

• The new Hobbit movie will be:

 a) Incredible    b) OK   c) Disappointing.

 

How many times have you said, “See, I told you so”?  Now is your chance to be recognized for all of your talents.

Oy, it is December.  Hanukkah started last night.  Hanukkah is a festival, a low-key celebration that is sometimes blown out of proportion here in the U.S.  It is not our answer to Christmas.  Hanukkah predates Christmas, by centuries.  In truth, I would like to wish my Christian friends a merry, joyous Christmas – with me as uninvolved as possible.

I received a call last Friday from one of my insurance representatives.  This particular young woman works for a second tier company that provides several important products in our market.  She lives in Wisconsin.  She has been my contact for less than a year.

Dave, I called to thank you for your most recent case.  (Yes, this woman has so little to do that she has the time to call each of her agents every time they write even the smallest of sales)

No Problem.

Well, (in an overly cheerful and way too familiar fashion) do you have all of your Christmas shopping done?

Um, yeah. (I confess that I was multi-tasking and thus unprepared for her question.)  I’m Jewish.  We don’t do Christmas.

After an uncomfortable pause, she again thanked me for the case and said good-bye. 

I almost felt badly for her.  Her last job may have been on a farm.  The company is inMilwaukee, but she could be commuting from the hinterlands. 

There were about 40 emails waiting for me Tuesday morning.  One of them was a hallmark e-card from the rep.  I figured that this was going to be her way of making amends.  I clicked on the link and got

A CHRISTMAS CARD!

 I can’t make this up.  It was cute and cartoony and there wasn’t a hint of Jesus or religion to be seen, but it was still a Christmas card. 

Someone tactless and spiteful might have sent her a card for Kwanzaa, Chinese New Year, or something equally foreign to her.  Not me.  Why bother?  Her world consists of two types of people: those who have turkey on Thanksgiving and those who serve ham, too. 

So instead of sending her a dollar’s worth of chocolate Hanukkah gelt, I will take a deep breath, smoke a cigar, and wish all of you a wonderful December no matter how you choose to spend it.

 

Eighteen holes of golf? Check. Stew into the slow cooker? Check. Welcome to a normal Sunday afternoon in my home. December golf in Cleveland is a bonus. I made sure I took as many strokes as possible. Who knows when I’ll play again?

I am not going to bore you with a stew recipe. Even though I marinated the meat almost 24 hours in beer, dredged it in almond meal, and deglazed the pan with dark rum, stew is stew.

We are going to talk about cookies.

The December meeting of the Ohio Blogging Association will be featuring a cookie swap. There should be some creative offerings since many of the local members write food blogs. I don’t think any of them will be sugar-free, so I will only be admiring from afar.

It has been over twenty years since I last made cookies. After reviewing a half a dozen recipes and not finding any I would like to attempt, I decided to create my own.

Cocoa Almond Cookies

3 Cups             Almond Meal

1/2 C               Butter/Margarine at room temperature

1/3 C               Liquid Sugar Substitute

2                      Eggs, beaten

2 T                   Unsweetened Cocoa Powder

1/2 t                Salt

1 t                    Vanilla Extract

1/2 t                Baking Soda

Preheat the oven to 375 degrees.

Cream the butter. Mix in the eggs, liquid sweetener, and vanilla extract. Add in the remaining ingredients. Mix until well incorporated. (I used a portable mixer on the low setting.)

Spoon the batter onto a parchment lined baking sheet. Bake for 15 minutes.

This recipe yielded two dozen cake-like cookies. They were not overly sweet, which is OK with me. Sally and I both liked them. I might try adding some almond slivers next time for a little crunch. Dried fruit could work, too.

Please let me know if you try this recipe and how you modify it. I will continue to post low-carb options. I promise – no golf tips.

Barb Fulgham is incensed. And she is not alone.

Barb was attempting to relax and watch a little television when her peace was invaded by the new political ad from the US Chamber of Commerce. You have probably seen the advertisement. It attacks Sherrod Brown (D-OH) with the usual litany of half truths and propaganda. The ad was slick, well produced, and totally frustrating to anyone but the most ardent of partisans.

My two blogs, Health Insurance Issues With Dave and Again? Really? have not been bashful about taking Senator Brown to task for some of his positions. My expectations may have been too high. But this new ad, this despicable trash polluting our airwaves, doesn’t move the country forward. Is sheds no light.

So let me state this as clearly as possible: They Aren’t Us. Your local Chamber of Commerce has nothing to do with the US Chamber of Commerce. Whether you live in Rocky River or Beachwood, Mentor or Solon, your local Chamber of Commerce consists of a lot of local businesses, small businesses, who want to help their communities. They are apolitical. Yes, individual chambers get co-opted now and then to back a local tax or school levy, but these organizations are first and foremost designed to promote their home town.

Your local chamber is not waging a war with Senator Brown. Your local chamber neither supports nor opposes Governor Kasich. Chamber boards spend their time discussing pancake breakfasts and business shows. They are not raising money to run commercials for or against anyone.

This is not a new issue. One of the dirtiest campaigns ever foisted on the voters of Ohio was run by the Ohio Chamber of Commerce in 2000 against Ohio Supreme Court Justice Alice Robie Resnick. We still don’t know where the Ohio C of C got all of the money to run its hateful ads. We just know that it didn’t come from local chambers of commerce. I was going to quit my local chamber until I verified that my dues weren’t financing the anti-Resnick campaign.

We are less than a year away from the 2012 election. The political advertisements will be everywhere – television, radio and print. The truth, the whole truth, may be nowhere. Ask yourself who is paying for these ads, and why.

But please remember: They aren’t us.