Grief Griefing!

Okay, so I bet you’re intrigued by this post’s title. What does the feminist movement have to do with mass transit? Allow me to explain. In America, and much of the Western world, women want to be like men. They want the same jobs as men, they want to play the same professional sports as men, and they want - more than anything - to be viewed as equals. No more of this around-the-house cleaner/cook/all-around-maid. No, sir. The politically correct way of referring to soldiers is “Our brave men and women in uniform.” How many women are there in the military? And how many are in combat positions? Still, it’s “men and women.” Such familiar words as “policeman” and “fireman” are now labeled as misogynistic. For the record, it’s “police officer” and “firefighter.” The last one in particular makes me chuckle. Come on already, does anyone actually believe that women are just as qualified as men to put out fires? Who’d you want to save you from a burning building and carry you to safety - a 6′4″ gorilla of a man, or an idealistic woman? It’s an outrage.

Everything you just read is mysteriously absent on the subway. Somehow, when it comes to getting a seat on the train, the mindset is that a man is supposed to give up his hard-earned seat for a woman. It’s the gentlemanly thing to do. If a man sits down and there’s a woman who’s standing, she will give him the look of death. She’ll gaze at him with piercing eyes as if to say, “How dare you not give your seat to me!” And when a man is the closest one to a seat that opens up, there’s usually a woman who darts over from afar to steal it from him. There’s a certain sense of entitlement. As a woman, she deserves to sit. Let the man stand. My question is this: What happened to equality? Aren’t women and men the same in every area? Shouldn’t women be treated exactly like men, in all circumstances? It seems that the answer is no. Feminists promote equality only when it benefits them. However, if they can gain by being different, then they’ll be 1950’s-era housewives.

I believe that if you are in possession of something from which others would benefit - especially if sharing it with them would come at no cost to you - you should do the unselfish thing. I am a lucky man; my wife is a phenomenal cook. This recipe in particular is incredible. Don’t worry, I’m not about to use this blog as a platform for expressing mushiness. I am merely mentioning the fact that you need to check out the following recipe for yourselves. Men, you will love it. I guarantee it. Wives, your husbands will be happy men. And, hey, you’ll probably enjoy it too. And now I present to you: Pastrami Potato Kugel.

Trust me on this one, folks. It’s worth a try.

Ingredients: 8 potatoes; 5 eggs; half cup oil; 1 teaspoon salt; dash of black pepper; cut-up pieces of pastrami.

Instructions: Combine all ingredients except potatoes and pastrami. Mix well. Either blend or grate potatoes in food processor. Mix potatoes with egg mixture. Put half of the mixture into a 9″x13″ pan. Sprinkle cut-up pastrami on top. Put remaining potato mixture on top of pastrami. Bake at 350 degrees for 1:15 to 1:30.

This is a serious post. Enjoy!

On the E train this morning, there was a homeless woman with 2 black garbage bags, which presumably contained all her possessions. After we pulled into the 71^st Ave. station and waited for a considerable amount of time, a cop boarded the train and approached this woman. Then the following exchange took place. Cop: Can I speak with you for a minute on the platform? Homeless Woman: Sad look. Cop: You’re not in trouble; I just want to ask you something. Homeless Woman: Sad look. Cop: Let me help you with your things. As soon as she exited the train, the doors closed and we were on our way. Thanks, officer, for improving the neighborhood and taking out the trash! Give that cop an A.

That bus driver should be fired. I’m serious. After picking up passengers, she (I’m not passing judgment on women bus drivers in general; I’m merely presenting the facts as I deem relevant. I just happen to believe this piece of information is extremely relevant.) stopped the bus. We sat there for 5 whole minutes. There were no passengers running for the bus or anything. She merely stopped and we waited. Now, there’s a law in New York about talking to bus operators, so we passengers avoided speaking directly to her. One guy sitting to my right (addressing either himself, or the other passengers) exclaimed out loud, “She always does this. She’s gonna make 40 people late because she has to keep to her schedule.” Another frustrated passenger replied very loudly, “If there’s a dispatcher at the station, we could always tell him about this.” We all grumbled grumblings and moaned moanings and muttered mutterings, but to no avail.

It was insane. Fire her! Overall grade: F

That subway ride was incredible. The only thing I can think of is that another train had just come and left the station seconds before. When I got to the station, an E train arrived immediately. That happens from time to time, but the following never does. I got a seat. Not only did I have a seat, I had an entire row of seats to myself. Of course, I took the end seat, where I leaned my head back against the wall. The “seats” are blue-gray and flat, all the way across. I was able to actually see the color of the seats while sitting down. This was during rush hour, people, rush hour! There were even seats after Roosevelt Avenue. I couldn’t believe it.

I’m still in shock. Overall grade: A+

I’m not a chauvinist. Okay, perhaps I am, but so what? Today at the 8:00 minyan there was a lone woman sitting in the women’s section. Now don’t get me wrong, I understand that the women’s section is specifically designated as a place for women to pray. I’m not questioning the institution. What gets me is this: What in the world is a woman doing at a weekday shacharis at the West Side Jewish Center? From her appearance it didn’t seem like she’s ultra-religious, so what’s the deal?

One of my loyal readers suggested that I comment, from time to time, about the previous day’s trip home. Last night’s ride back to Queens was actually decent. I got a seat right away - and it was a seat with a wall behind my head (instead of a window), so I could lean my head back. Although the train got really crowded as the trip continued, I pretended not to notice all the women standing and holding on for dear life. I earned my seat, and I didn’t give it up! Overall grade: A-