Thursday, March 14, 2013

Existing in New York City Among the Capitalist Pigs, Part II

Foto by tgw, New York City, 2013
Watching the Rich Playing Golf on the Rich Man's Golf Course 
I've been feeling lousy.  In the true sense of the word.  Lethargic.  Trapped in the web of tedium vitae.  Ennui is a good word for my situation, too.  Last Friday (March 1), I passed out in the lobby of Bellevue Hospital while waiting on line for almost 2 hours to get a refill for my heart meds.  Where the hell did all these down and outters come from? I asked my subconscious companion as I stood there and stood there and waited and waited.  A couple of times I almost got the moxie up to split the scene but, hey, I thought, shit, I've waited this long, a little longer won't hurt me.  WRONG!  Suddenly my head started spinning.  Suddenly my stomach got queasy.  And the next thing I know, I was down for the count on Bellevue's marvelous marble lobby floor.

I tried to get up off the floor but a couple of big tough Black security guys forbade me to complete that action and they radio-ed for a stretcher that soon arrived.  Four of these big urban cowboys lifted me onto that stretcher and wheeled me post haste down a long corridor and straight into the Bellevue Emergency Room where I was soon being pushed passed a whole lot of down and outters on stretchers, some with NYPD cops as their escorts.

Next I know I'm told they're keeping me overnight to check my vital signs giving me no say in the matter.  Then I was wheeled by a nice Black lady wearing a white uniform up to 17 North and deposited in a room by a window overlooking the East River running north, a window from which I could see far up the river, up the FDR Drive, past the 59th Street Bridge (I refuse to call it the Ed Koch Bridge), past Roosevelt Island, and up to where the East River meets the Harlem River.

I stayed in Bellevue for 5 days this time.  Monday now over a week ago I was wheeled into an OR and during a two-hour surgery, I became the proud possessor of an ICD, an Implantable Cardioverter Defibrillator.  Then I had one more night in the hospital and Tuesday around 11 am, I was sent packing by my cardiologist.

Once back home, I thought, whoop-tee-do, I'm back in the saddle again.  This time, if I take a nose dive for the grave, my ICD will shock me back alive (a la a resurrection) and I'll be once again living in the highest of cottons.

But oh how wrong I was. I soon found the two-inch incision, though healing as predicted, during its healing process was draining me of my energy.  The healing wound plus the immune-system drainers of the heart meds I'm on (beta-blockers, aspirin, and statins (all of which I hate with a pharmaceutical dissident's passion)) have combined to leave me with restless leg syndrome, sleepless nights, and a lethargy that makes me sometimes feel the only sleep I'm ever again going to get will be when I'm R.I.P. six-feet under some Queens or Brooklyn turf (except I've requested I be cremated and my ashes thrown to the New York City winds).

By this past Saturday, I was so googly eyed and drained of energy, I decided to bury my head in the boring sands of television.  Not even the craziness of Christian television brought me out of my lethargic slump.  I didn't regain a bit of my upsetting-the-cart vigor until 3 o'clock Saturday afternoon when on NBC I found the Cadillac World Golf Championship event being broadcast live from Miami, Florida, and the old Doral Resort's Blue Monster Golf Course.  And who was leading this big-buck tournament?  Why to me the greatest golfer of all time, the recently much-abused billionaire golfer, Tiger Woods (though records claim he's only worth 500 million).

Of all the sports, baseball and golf are my favorites.  Mainly because, as a kid, I excelled first in baseball and then later during my senior year in high school after my bad-ass attitude had lost me a chance at a professional baseball career, I took up golf.  One of my cousins on my father's side of the family had turned me on to the game.  This cousin became a Texas amateur champion and every time he came to my hometown to play in a tournament and twice while playing in two Paris, Texas, tournaments, he used me as his caddy.

So I got intrigued watching Tiger Woods this past Saturday and Sunday playing almost perfect go on to sweep win the tournament and garner himself a cool million or two bucks.

As I watched this golf tournament, I became focused on how even the commercials (high-end automobiles; stock investment companies; golf equipment manufacturers; big banks) during the broadcast were aimed at people with money.  Golf itself is a very expensive sport to learn and play.  To play on Miami's Doral courses (there are five) costs over $250 a round.  Membership in golf clubs varies with most public and private clubs (which used to mean no Negroes and no Jews allowed...and still, in spite of Tiger Woods' popularity, there are no Black players on the pro tour that I know about...and very few if any Jewish players).  Initiation dues run from $2,000 up to over $200,000 ($650,000 at a new country club in the Long Island Hamptons) with annual dues running from $3,000 a year to up over $100,000 a year.

Most professional golfers must have sponsors in order to maintain their pro tour statuses.  The winningest pros of course have the most in terms of sponsorship bucks, with golfers like Tiger Woods, Phil Mickelson, and the current hot-shot Rory McElroy easily worth millions in sponsorships, Tiger, as I stated, is the first pro golfer billionaire, money he scooped in off sponsorships and not tournament prize wins.  Most of the consistent top-ten finishers in pro tournaments make millions of bucks a year, drive top-end automobiles, live in mansions, and travel from tournament to tournament in their own private jets.

Capitalist pigs love golf and owning golf courses and owning pro golfers.  How disgusting was it to me to see the announcement during this Miami Doral tournament that this old course and spa had just been bought by Donald Trump (you know a piece of property is spiraling downward in value when Trump buys it).  How further disgusting was it to see this big inflated-egoed pompous ass arrive at this tournament in a helicopter and then plump his big fat butt in a golf cart that whizzed him from his helicopter up to his privileged clubhouse parlor overlooking the last hole.  How further disgusting was it to see that the Donald has now blown up into a big-time fat slob.  What a phony Donald Trump is.  He's never really worked a day in his privileged life, his father making the family fortune before passing it on to his worthless son.  Trump is the bankrupt champion of the world's real-estate wheelers and dealers.  He's constantly declaring bankruptcy with his projects, i.e., his constantly bankrupted Atlantic City gambling casinos.  This pompous ass has admitted under a deposition he has exaggerated his worth.  According to the Capitalist Pig List put out by the Forbes Money Worshipers, Donald is worth about 3 billion, which lobs him down around 400 on the billionaire list.  Donald by the way, being a boy from Queens, New York, hates blacks.  Remember, Donald the Blowhard believes our President isn't an American citizen.

Seeing Tiger Woods win on Donald Trump's latest acquisition gave me great relief from boredom.  Tiger easily trounced all the White boys in Miami for his 2nd tour win of this year.  Tiger, by the way, has overcome his shenanigans with the high-priced whores that wrecked his marriage and put him in a bad light a few years ago and is back smelling like a rose again.

Obama Continues to Kiss Republican Ass
This phony progressive president continues talking out both sides of his White/Black mouth.  He's pretending to hold back a decision on this disgusting TransCanada Keystone Pipeline bullshit as he awaits a special study on the matter he's commissioned.  Who's heading up this study?  Why a TransCanada executive.  What do you think the results of that study will be?

And gun control.  Pres. Obama sloughed that touchy subject off on Joe "DuPont Asskisser" Biden.  Months now after Newtown we still have no bans on any kind of weapons.  By the way, who makes gunpowder?  Could it be DuPont?  I predict there'll be no new gun laws on the Federal books as time erases our memories of the horrors guns of all sorts wreak on our dumbasses.

Is Pres. Obama going to cave in to his Republican buddies on cutting Medicare and Social Security (two citizen-paid-into successful Fed programs)?  Well, yes, it looks like he is.  Fuck old people.  Old people are supposed to drop dead the minute they turn 65; how dare they keep living on past that day of insurance-company calculated lifespan.

LOOK OUT!  Jeb Bush Looms on the Republican Horizon
There's all kind of Beltway rumoring going on about Jeb Bush reving up the Bush Family Empire jets readying to toss his crooked hat into the 2016 presidential bruhaha.  This little privileged Bush prick certainly knows how to steal elections.  I laughed my ass off hearing Jeb say his little Georgie Porgie AWOL brother would be exonerated in a good light by passing time.  Jesus X. Christ, how do we stop these idiots from taking us down these paths of war economy doom?

The New (Nude) Pope
The Italians took the papacy back over with this Argentinian Italian.  I wonder what his background is in terms of exiled Fascists from the Axis?  Or how about his connection to the Mafia?  Anybody who sucks up and worships these throwback Popes...and, yes, I meant that suck up part as a pun...are in my books too fucking nuts to have any say in anything...check out superCatholic Paul Ryan, a true little privileged nutjob who's out to wreck our economy.

for The Daily (Weekly) Growler 

The Art of My Old Pal Will Shuster

The 40th Wedding Anniversary

1 comment:

Marybeth said...

I hope you are feeling okay. I've been loving your Will Shuster gallery.