Screw the cynics. I don’t care if Christ was born on December 25th or not. I don’t want to hear the “We know it couldn’t have been in the winter because the shepherds were in the fields with their flocks and so it must have been in the spring…blah, blah, blah.” I’ve got a great looking Christmas tree up; our very old home made star is shining at the top; and the living room smells like Santa’s after shave. So Merry Christmas. And I open presents on Christmas Eve, because ever since Santa brought me a flying toy airplane when I was a kid, I lose control of my eyebrows. They tend to flip up and down under that kind of pressure. They also do that when my Lady Wonder Wench walks into the room wearing something she says is “a little more comfortable.” Cynics say you’ve got to be kidding after you’ve been together all this time. Stupid cynics. Cynics are dumb. Now they’re saying “radio’s dead, and the podcasts did it.” Sounds like the same song they were singing in the fifties when TV turned on. But a couple of guys by the name of Alan Freed and Murray Kauffman introduced rock and roll to “the kids.” TV only showed Elvis from the waist up. But radio “got down.” So far down that the cynics who called themselves “forces for GOOD in the community” had public destructions of rock records. Reminded me of Hitler burning books. Then in the 80s, AM radio was dead, until Rush Limbaugh lit the fuse on political talk. Cynics say he’s a right wing fascist, homophobic psychopath who should be SILENCED ! He’s everything they say he is, just like Sean Hannity, Dr. Laura, and all their imitators. But “Silence them!” ? Why ? They’re better than Saturday Night Live for laughs. Dumb cynics. Get a life.Cynics don’t think. They tell us there’s no way out of the Iraq mess. Sure there is. When all else fails, THINK. Shouldn’t be too hard to out think these guys. They’re a bunch of macho idiots who are ready to commit suicide to “have 74 virgins.” To me that shows a definite lack of thinking things through. Can you imagine 74 women in the same house ? All of them intent on being virginal ? I say bury an 800 gazillion megaton hydrogen bomb under downtown Baghdad, with a triggering device in some safe house in my home town Brooklyn, where people have lots of experience with dangerous weapons. Then bring all our troops home, and tell the entire region, we don’t care what kind of religion you want to follow, or what language you want to speak, or even if you want to let some other Hitler wannabe like Saddam take over your government, but one false move on our oil supply and it’s Lake Iraq. The bad guy’s cynics wouldn’t believe me, and they’d mess with the pipelines. So I’d tell all the civilians they had 24 hours to get out, and I’d push the button. And when the dust settled in a year or so, I’d ask the cynics running the rest of the countries in the world to guess if I’d hidden one of our 800 gazillion megaton hydrogen bombs in their countries too. We wouldn’t have to actually DO it. All we’d have to do is make them THINK.Cynics don’t really think things through. For example: “Boiled milk ??? LOUIE…are you nuts ?” “George Herman Ruth, you put that baseball away right this instant. Come in here and study so you can make something of yourself!” “Those nutty bicycle builders Wilbur and Orville were in here at the bank again looking for a loan. I told them to go fly a kite.” It’s safer being a cynic. They figure, “Why take chances ?” Most new and different ideas fail. So if you’re a cynic you get to say, “Ha…I told you so.” And if it doesn’t fail, you get to point out that it’s not perfect. “Hey… did you hear…there was another plane crash. Those guys should be STOPPED.”

But it’s much easier being a cynic. Most Radio is run by cynics. There are actually “safe song lists.” If you play one of those songs, focus groups have “proven” that people won’t change the station so you won’t lose ratings. That’s why you hear the same songs so often on the radio. Most of the GRR (Guys Running Radio) club would have kicked John Kennedy out of the organization for having the wrong attitude. Remember “We’re going to the moon, not because it’s easy, but because it’s haaaaaaad.”

Cynics are Kool. And they make sure it’s spelled with a K, “because that’s how all the guys spell it.” I hate “Kool.” I’ve got the HOTS for my Lady Wonder Wench, and for amazing music, and for flying my little airplane, and for Stephen Hawking’s books. Cynics are afraid to have the hots for anything, because they don’t want to take the chance that “the GUYS” will laugh at them. That’s where we get that macho crap. “I ain’t holdin’ her hand in public. The guys would think I’m pussy whipped.” Good. Go ahead, Mr. Macho. Walk down the street with your hands stuck in your pockets looking Kool. Won’t take long until some guy who’s got the hots for her is doing the hand holding, and you can keep your hands in your pockets for any dumb reason you want.

Cynicism is not a childhood disease. You have to “Grow Up” to get it. There are no cynical kids. You also have to Give Up to get it. Columbus couldn’t have been a cynic. He said, “I’m going to sail west to get to India which is east of here.” People said, “Go ahead, but I’m not going with you ‘cause you’ll just sail off the edge of the earth.” But he went anyway and eventually landed in San Salvador, thought it was India and claimed it for Spain, and has ever since been given credit for discovering America, although there were lots of people already here who discovered it a Long Long time ago. If Columbus were a cynic, he wouldn’t have gone ‘cause he didn’t want the other guys in puffy hats and pantaloons to laugh at him…and we’d still be speaking Iroquois.

My friend Dick Stadlen runs a bunch of radio stations in the mid-west, but I don’t classify him as one of the GRR, because he’s a long way from being a cynic. He even wraps presents himself. Not well, but he does it. You can’t be a cynic while you wrap pretty paper around a box, just so somebody else can tear it off a little while later. His Lady Diane doesn’t give him a hard time, because she loves him, even though the results of his gift wrapping often look like a green and red spit ball. Dick says, “Wrapping paper is like Santa Claus. It’s not part of the original ritual but I like it anyway. If there had been wrapping paper, Matthew would have said: ‘And lo the Magi’s gifts were inside 600 square cubits of paper. And the paper was festooned with pictures of Frosty the Snowman. And Joseph was going to throw it away, but Mary sayeth unto him…holdeth it…just a minute…that’s nice paper. Save it for next year. And Joseph did rolleth his eyeballs. And the baby Jesus was more interested in the paper than the frankincense.’”

Truth be told, I really don’t care when Christ was born. I don’t even care if Christ was the “Son of God.” He gave us lots of good ideas and lots of love. So of course the cynics crucified Him because cynics are always afraid of new ideas. And there’s not much room for love in a cynic’s life, because love’s hot and cynics are all Kool.

I figure, even if you don’t believe in Christ, you’ve got to admit His birthday celebration is pretty neat. So is Hanukkah, Qwanza, Solstice, and any other holiday that involves candles, good stuff to eat, and some great loving. (I like mine served hot.)

So, screw the cynics. Merry Christmas, and by the way Happy New Year, too.



This blog and podprogram usually go up on Sunday mornings. No blog next week. Taking the week off. First blog of the new year will explain everything you ever need to know about anything. Happy.

THIS JUST IN…a comment from my friend Paul Berge:

“You have to “Grow Up” to get it.”

“You have to “Grow Up” to get it.”No wonder I still don’t get it, Dick. I refuse to grow up. I still want a BB gun at Christmas and even if I do shoot my eye out, at least I got the BB gun.

“You have to “Grow Up” to get it.”And real Lionel trains under the tree…

“You have to “Grow Up” to get it.”And screw WDM, I still have faith that we’ll eventually find Xray glasses that really work….

And realize that Bosco is far superior to CocoMarsh…

And the ’59 Chevy was the best car ever…

And Sandy Becker would’ve made a better Pope than that German guy…

And Yoohoo in bottles…

And Three Musketeers bars for a nickel…

And nickels…

And singing harmony on a warm summer evening out on the stoop…

And nuthin’ to do…

And no guilt about doin’ it.

Merry All them holidays.


Paul Berge
Ahquabi House Publishing, LLC

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