Sorry about the freak out session the other night. The blogger it was directed at probably didn’t deserve it, but, well, too late now. I dunno. It’s just that I’ve always had a tough time with the anonymity thing. I just can’t feature anyone thinking they’re clever or what have you when they’re too completely afraid to sign their own name to their budding genius and suchlike.

Besides, do we really think, say, Paul Kanjorski gives a hoot about Zippy the Wonder Pundit, some anonymous assassin from BlogInANanosecond.com? I’m not saying anonymous bloggers don’t add to the oft-intelligent internet discourse, I’m just saying I think they command much less respect than they would if they were making with the critic routine under their own names. Shoot me.

And I’m not blowing my own horn except to say that I’ve had to face very many of the people I ripped to shreds on these electronic pages of mine, and I’d do it all over again if I thought it would help to further Wilkes-Barre along. In fact, many times over it was a rush going toe-to-toe with those that deal in intimidation and threats. Fact is, they bitch at us when we’re apathetic, while my example proves that they will bitch even louder when we pay too much attention. Ahhhhh. Close scrutiny got you down? Tough.

Anyways, sorry about going ballistic and all, but after listening to Sue Henry today, I’m almost certain I’m suffering from intermittent explosive disorder. Can I go on disability now? Can I drink all night, sleep all day and beat the tar out of the mailman when my government check doesn’t arrive on time? Can I? Can I? Huh?

Does anybody know if the Leisure Tavern delivers?

Look…if I road rage all the time, then I shouldn’t be trusted with a driver’s license. And if I can’t be trusted with what all of those illegal aliens find it so easy to obtain--a driver’s license--then I can’t be gainfully employed in any meaningful sense. So…what’s left? I go on the public dole.

Yippee! Victim status at last!!!

The latest news from Wilkes-Barre? Well, let’s start with the bad news--the Coal Street Pool.

I’ve heard some grumbling about this latest development, but I would caution people to reserve commenting until we know more about the on-going developmental discussions between the Penguins organization and city officials whereas the future of the Coal Street complex is concerned.

Without knowing too much about the decision to close the pool, if the mayor says it’d take a quarter million to return it to it’s glory days, I’m inclined to take him at his word. Much like the decision to shutter the Heights fire station, this sounds like another example of not throwing good money, which happens to be in short supply, after bad. Or what he’d likely call, “not being afraid to make the tough the decisions.”

Unlike some communities around here, in spite of the closing, we’ve still got a city pool to enjoy down at Kistler School. And a nice one at that.

Even so, I can’t help but to think about all of the poorer kids that reside in both the Interfaith complex and Sherman Hills. Fact is, they don’t have a pool of their own out back. And I know from 1.) being poor and, 2.) living at Interfaith, it was a genuine treat to have a first-class pool waiting for us right down at the bottom of the hill. Truth be told, that’s where I first laid eyes on wifey.

Back in my day, if any mayor closed the pool, we’d likely ride a train all the way down to South Wilkes-Barre and dive into the other pool. These days, there aren’t too many trains running from the Heights to South Wilkes-Barre. In lieu of the pool, maybe Tom Leighton can bring the freight trains back? Besides the convenient transportation and all, it’d give us something else to break into and pillage. Again, just like those old days. How did it go again? There was whiskey in the Norfolk & Western boxcars, and gigantic spools of paper in the…ah, forget it. I’m not sure what the statute of limitations is on all of that.

Anyway, despite our mayor’s penchant for not announcing anything until the girders are being delivered, he’s got big things in mind for that park. Only time will tell, but I hope he pulls it off. Whatever it is.

From The Citizens’ Voice:

Now…on to the good news.

R/C Theatres will begin showing second-run movies, with an admission price of just $1 a ticket, beginning June 24 — a full week ahead of the official grand opening set for June 30.

That’s sounds doable to me depending on which second-run movies they decide to show. I mean, I don’t wanna see no Broken Prostrate Mountain or anything polluted by that utter puke Sean Penn. But otherwise, this sounds like a plan. They should run the indisputable all-time classics like, say, Smokey and The Bandit, Killdozer, Dirty Mary & Crazy Larry, Solar Babies, or anything with John Saxon’s name neatly displayed on the marquee. But, a buck a ticket? Hell, I’ll buy. Who’s in?

Junior Mints, anyone?

Buy your own, prick!

This is by no means a shock at this point, but it’s really good news for the downtown.

The Innovation Center is situated near Public Square next to Boscov’s Department Store and less than a block away from the city’s theater scheduled to open later this month. The bookstore will fill the basement and first levels of the former Woolworth’s building. Frank said the Barnes & Noble plans also feature a full-service café that serves Starbucks products, similar to the café located inside the Barnes & Noble store in Wilkes-Barre Township.

Being a voracious reader, I’m liking this development. Add it to my suddenly growing list of downtown businesses I can either walk to, bicycle to, or drag a wagon loaded down with grandrodents to. City living just keeps sounding better and better with each passing day, doesn’t it? Oh…admit it already! Jeez.

Hell, I might even plunk down five bucks so as to buy me a Starbucks coffee and see for myself what all of the hoopla is about? Five bucks? For a frickin’ cup of coffee? It had better be better than liquid sex, or my recently diagnosed disorder might kick in Johnny on the spot.

County to 580...557: “We got a call of a man assaulting a copy of Atlas Shrugged at the book store on South Main. No description given.”

557: “17.”

580: “17.”

Not my fault, officer. See, I gots me one of them newfangled disabilities, and ain’t no yuppie sumbitch gonna rip me off.

No, I hadn’t heard, but I figured it had to be soon. You know, after personally being in North, Northeast and East stations and then getting a glimpse inside this new firehouse, I got to thinking that the folks who eventually staff it ought to be fairly pleased about doing so. Oh, by the way. I showed up there a couple of weeks ago wearing a “hose dudes” shirt and sporting a chirping scanner, so the construction dudes didn’t even give me a second thought when I got to poking around in there just a tiny bit. They probably thought I was the fire chief or some such thing. Sneaky bastard, ain’t I?

I’m pretty sure there’s still some hard feelings in the department in the aftermath of the regrettable Heights brouhaha and all. And I’m quite certain the staffing issues are causing some lingering discontent. Especially whereas the reduced overtime is concerned.

But, isn’t this $50 million over five years devoted to the fire department starting to look like a plan? Am I somehow wrong? We’ve got two recently rehabbed firehouses that are certainly not ancient by any stretch of the imagination. New doors, new roofs and new HVAC systems in place. We’ve got a brand-spanking new firehouse. And we’ve got new apparatus soon to be in every single station.

A couple of years ago, we had nothing but aging apparatus always in need of some sort of repair. We had a rain forest in which dam near everything rusted out, a turn of the century firehouse barely bigger than an expensive Home Depot storage shed, and the Heights firehouse that was built before the advent of electricity, which, ironically, had something to do with it’s eventual undoing. Is it just me, or is the fire department in much better shape than it was just two short years ago?

I know about the staffing issues. And I understand the effect the staffing has on the safety of everyone involved, be they resident, or be they firefighter. I’m just wondering about the current mood of those who rush into burning structures while the rest of us run away. Are you folks feeling better about things, or not?

Believe it or not, I’m all good with Bush bashing when it’s well-deserved.

Um…try urinating yourself and mumbling profanities whenever any of those gay boys get too close for comfort. Then again, that’ll cause the straight boys to steer well clear of you too. Damn near everyone, for that matter. Trust me, it works.

Should homosexuals be allowed to marry? Sounds kind of weird to me. The thing I don’t get is, with so many heterosexuals eschewing marriage in favor of “shacking up,” why are the homosexuals so adamant about being married? Don’t they know what they’re asking for?

If I had to guess, I’d say most homosexuals just want to be left alone. I know I do. But, as with every issue, we’ve got the usual activists pushing their agenda wherein the teeny tiny minority gets to dictate public policy to the majority. I don’t think there’s near as many legitimate homophobes as there are average people just sick and tired of the oft-sickening and increasingly vitriolic activists.

Should homosexuals be allowed to marry? Sounds kind of weird to me. Why not give them some legal rights resembling what legally married boys and girls enjoy, and then move onto the more critical issues that are currently dragging us down?

As I have stated many times, I really don’t care what anyone does so long as they don’t touch any of my stuff. And as long as gays aren’t touching any of my, ahem, stuff, they ought to be allowed to do as they may and have some legal protections and such in place.

Enlightened thinking on my part? No, just the musings of someone who has had quite enough of the small stuff being continually fought over to no avail, while the really, really big stuff goes on being virtually ignored.

With that said, don’t expect to hear any Village People at the block party.

Sez me.

Later