Sunday, February 27, 2011

"Happy Evil Visitation Day To Me ..."

My birthday is Tuesday, March 1st.

I thought I'd give you time to get me a present. I'm not getting any younger, you know? There's got to be some benefit to getting older. Checks are acceptable.

This year I decided to find out how birthdays got their start.

Turns out that birthdays were not always celebrated ... much less even counted. The ancients (they lived a long time ago) developed calendars after they noticed that the moon had cycles. Before then, everyone noticed that they got older ... they just didn't track it.

The first birthday parties started as protection. These ancient guys believed that a person was visited by evil spirits when they had a birthday. So to protect them from harm, they called up all their friends to have a party. The more good cheer ... the less opportunity for the bad stuff to happen. Noisemakers were used to scare the spirits away and candles were signals to the gods to send a "prayer" to be answered. Blow out the candles and make a wish? That was the way to send a signal and a message.

Here are some of the people I share March 1st  Evil Visitation Day with:

Catherine Bach, actress who played Daisy Duke
Ron Howard, Opie of Andy Griffith (and a few other things)
Roger Daltry of "The Who"
Harry Belafonte, "Day-O"
Pete Rozelle, NFL commish
Yitzhak Rabin, Israeli premier
Harry Caray, Cubs announcer
Dinah Shore, "See the USA in Your Chevrolet" (I just lost all my readers under 50)
Glenn Miller, Greatest bandleader of all time

So ... let's sing together:

Happy Evil Visitation Day To Me
Happy Evil Visitation Day To Me
Help Me On Tuesday ... Keep the Spirits Away!

Tuesday, February 22, 2011


Last week, I went to lunch with a friend that I hadn't seen in years. It was one of those lunches that makes you feel like time stood still .. you know reminiscing about stuff, telling lies ... laughing. I felt like I was 20 again ... until I heard, "Hey, Momberg ... been growing your forehead since I saw you?"

Reality hit: What happened to my hair?

It used to be on the top of my head (and the sides and back too). It was long ... it was dark ... it was ... the 70s.

And I had a moustache. A big bushy Groucho Marx moustache which took up most of my face (the glasses took up the rest).

Hair, the musical, had just come out. So us 20- somethings wanted HAIR ... Long beautiful hair ... Shining, gleaming, streaming, flaxen, waxen.

Ah yes.

Hair is a funny thing. We really care about it.

When you're a baby, you really don't know if you have any or not ... but your parents do. If you are a girl and bald, count on having a bow stapled to your head. If you're a bald headed boy, your dad will buy you mini baseball caps.

When you're pre-adolescent, you can probably remember the day that you first saw it grow under your arms and down South. For a boy, this was a sign of manhood ... well ... pre-manhood ... your voice changed later but at least you had your HAIR.

As we grow into adults we color it, spike it, tease it, perm it, shave it ... we'd probably tweet it if we could.

And then we get old.

Not only do we LOSE it ... it travels to places that we never thought hair could even grow. The ultimate insult.

So while you have it ... nurture it and look at it every day. Because one day ... someone might just say to you ... "Can you put on a hat? The glare hurts my eyes" or "I've seen more hair on a billiard ball."

... or my favorite ... "Maybe you should just let your eyebrows grow long and comb them back!"

Saturday, February 19, 2011

Sam I Am

You probably missed me.

That's what all writers think when we are "behind" in our work. In my case it's been more than a week since my last blog ... and I know you were probably going through withdrawal.

I have a Sammy conversation for you:

Last week we took Sam out for breakfast (his favorite meal). I told him we would pick him up at 9AM. I had him repeat it a few times so that I knew he heard it. Sunday morning at 9 sharp I walked into the lobby at Menorah Manor and to my surprise ... no Sammy. He is usually ready and waiting a half hour early.

So I took the elevator to the fourth floor and was greeted by one of his nurses who said, "Oh there you are. He was so worried about you. He wasn't sure you were coming ... you are so late."

"What?" I asked, "I told him that I would be here at 9."  

"He said 7."

I just shook my head and walked into his room. He was snoring with the big headphones on and his pants unzipped.


He squinted ... "Joel! I thought you weren't coming. You are two hours late."

"I told you 9."

"Yeah but you called this morning at 6."

"No I didn't."

"Yes you did. I looked at the phone and it said new message."

I looked at his phone. "Dad that was a message from three days ago."

"So why did it say 'new message'?"

"Because you never listened to it."

"I did listen to it ... this morning."

I just stared at him.

He continued, "... and another thing ... you talk so fast. I could barely hear you say you were coming at 7."

"That's because I didn't say that."

"I don't want to argue. But do me a favor next time ..."

"What's that?"

"Don't hang up so fast ... by the time I get to the phone you have already left a message."

Folks ... I'm not making this stuff up.

Thursday, February 10, 2011


The best breakfast this side of New Orleans is served on Sunday mornings at The Ozona Pig.

It's not right down the street ... unless you live in Ozona, Florida  right across the street from Molly Goodhead's. It takes me about 45 minutes to get there from my house ... even on Sunday morning.

Ozona Pig is a barbecue restaurant .. and a good one. Opened Monday through Saturday for lunch and dinner, The Pig decided to share their kitchen with a talented cook and her devoted husband.

Donny Ford is the guy who created the electronics for my man cave (consequently, he's my hero) and  he is married to Ann ... who has always wanted to have a breakfast restaurant. Their friends own Ozona Pig ... don't typically open on Sundays ... and offered the place to Ann and Donny to do their magic.

Donny invited Debbie and I to check it out last weekend. I'll admit, driving to Ozona on Sunday morning to sample breakfast sight unseen was not on my bucket list. But ... it has made my Top 10 all time favorites.

Here's a page from the menu:

Potato Brisket Hash
Home Fries topped with 2 over-medium eggs + cheddar cheese, then piled high some of the Pig's Beef Brisket and garnished with Hot BBQ Sauce. Served with a Hot Buttermilk Biscuit
Ultimate Individual Breakfast Pizza
Homemade Hand-tossed pizza crust topped with sausage, Canadian bacon, onions, cheese & eggs
made-from-scratch Buttermilk pancakes served with fresh fruit, Homemade Nutty Granola & warm 100% real maple syrup
Granola Yogurt Bowl
'Fruit on the bottom' low fat vanilla yogurt topped with Homemade Nutty Granola & fresh fruit. Served with 3 mini-cakes

And the specials .... Deep fried apple filled won tons with caramel sauce, stone crab omelet and to die for shrimp and grits.

Don't miss it ...

Palm Harbor 
311 Orange St
Palm HarborFL 34683

By the way ... my friend Chrissy gave me a shout out or tagged me ... or something like that ... you know, mentioned me in her blog I Shoulda Been a Stripper ... She is Cleveland's first lady ... funny, irreverent and a great writer. Check her out.

Also check out Gillian at by A Daft Scots Lass. She's originally from Scotland, now living in South Africa with two wee lassies aged nearly 8 and 4... A working mum blogging her life and funny as hell.

Be sure to read ...  BOSSY BETTY who says "In my old age, I plan to become the crazy cat lady in the neighborhood--the woman both pitied and viewed with a strange sense of fascination by all. That life of fame will have to wait though. These days I am a hard-workin' teacher and mama to two boys. I've been married to a man--a real, live man-- for 29 years. He's real nice and he's clean too! In the mornings I go Nordic walking around my neighborhood and at night I sleep the sleep of the happy." 

These are three of my favs


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