Bite Me, Tony

Bless me Father for I have sinned. It has been 21 days since my last confession. Okay, not really. It has been 21 days since my last blog post . But you get the drift. A blog post can often feel like a confession and maybe, in fact, it is, at least in some respects. A lot has happened since my last confession. We got our second (Pfizer) COVID vaccine and endured zero side effects. Simultaneously, my doctors went all DEFCON 1 when some routine blood work indicated my kidneys were in imminent danger of failing; somehow that drama seems to have cleared up without much ado, other than my having to drink a white powdery concoction (Lokelma) four times a week while keeping an eye on my potassium intake.  Then, looking like a cross between a furious Shrek and a mustache-less Mr. Potato Head, there is the lumbering behemoth from the Coral Gate condominiums who has, for reasons unknown, decided that I am Public Enemy Number One ( possibly because I put on a face mask as he approached from the

It's Groundhog Day and, per the forecast of Punxsutawney Phil, we are in for six more weeks of winter. Not exactly terrible news for us here in South Florida but surely a hellish prognosis for much of the rest of the country. Yesterday, the Northeast was hit by a massive winter snowstorm that is ongoing even as I type these words. They're expecting 9-15 inches of snow and it isn't expected to let up until tomorrow. Furthermore, there are already electric power outages, and tidal surges flooding the streets in some areas of Queens, among other places. It's bad enough being in the swampy chowder of South Florida when a hurricane knocks out the power in mid-August but I can't imagine losing the heat when the temps outside are in the 20's and 30's (or below)! Can I?   Actually I can. Once, many years ago, I was living in a house in Oklahoma City with a good friend who was a shy,  mild-mannered banker by day, Brobdingnagian drag queen by night (towering 6'4&q