Why did noted psychiatrist, Dr. Irving Salan, say Donald Trump was a certified nut?

    The late Dr.  Irving Salan was a psychiatrist for the rich and famous back in the 90's. His cost for an hour on the couch was $300. A high price in those days. The first Tuesday of every month he held an open house party at his magnificant Park Avenue office in New York City . I was hired to entertain the 40-50 past, present and future clients. Also a dozen of his friends in the medical trade.
     My internist, Dr. Sydney Kreps, was a close friend of Dr. Salan's and arranged our introduction. We bonded immediately. I appeared at dozens of his monthly parties. Sometimes with one of my "Shills." For example, Pat Paulson who was on the Smothers Brothers TV Show. Pat pretended he was seeking a psychologist to travel with him on the road for a summer tour. Because he claimed to be suicidal.
     Dr. Salan's guests caught on immediately and plied Pat with questions that he answered frivolously and hilariously. It was quite an evening of fun. Another time I brought along friend Bob Pagani who was a uniformed guard at Madison Square Garden. Bob could always find me a front row seat when the Knicks played a basketball game. Nor did I have to pay.
     Anyhow, I arranged for Bob to appear at Dr. Salan's party when it was in full swing, knock on the door and claim he was looking for illegal aliens hiding in his apartment. With half-a-dozen huge rooms and walkin closets, that was possible. He was invited in to look and the large group of guests became silent and apprehensive. That is, unil Bob and I became involved in sarcastic banter that quickly revealed the hoax. There was good natured laughter and applause.
     When Dr. Salan retired, he moved to the farm he purchased in New Hampshire, along with his wife Elaine and two German Shephard dogs. They were docile, loving and very protective when anyone came to the house. Then, both dogs would stiffen, growl and poise, ready to attack.
     I visited Dr. Salen a few times as his overnight guest and we would take long walks in the woods with his two dogs wagging their tails. On one walk, just before he passed away, I asked him to tell me something about his patients. "Well," he said, "I'm an MD sworn not to tell tales out of my private practice. I will say that this real estate mogul, Donald Trump, is a certified nut job. No way I could change his mentality. And I certainly tried!"

Is Priority Mail Failing?

     Yes it is! I was awaiting a contract from Colorado to Connecticut that was mailed Priority Mail six days ago, and it still hasn't arrived! How come? Where did it go? I don't have a tracking number. The sender does, but has not responded to me yet. Meantime, I wait and wait. Who knows how this will turn out?
     The Pony Express during the 19th Century required eight days to make a delivery from Connecticut to Colorado. They delivered the mail accurately, i.e. to the rightful person. There were occasional robbers. But the Pony Express had very fast horses and there were Way Stations to mount a fresh horse. The rider could also rest and eat at the local saloon in a hotel or inn.
     When I had my own independent record company in New York City many years ago, I had to send master tapes to Los Angeles for manufacturing a thousand 45 rpm copies. Federal Express was new and I didn't like them sending everything to Memphis for destinations elsewhere. Also, a film producer I knew had mailed some original color negatives to his studio via FedEx, and they got lost!
     He had $500 insurance on the package, but FedEx required him to produce the original receipts for the negatives. It was an older movie, most of the actors were dead. I suggested he offer to exhume the bodies and take new photos, as proof for the insurance payment. His $500 check arrived the next day. I was rewarded with lunch at "21" in New York.
     Rather than trust the USPO or FedEx for sending my master tapes coast to coast, I would drive out to Idlewild Airport (JFK) and look over the passengers traveling to Los Angeles. Then, I would approach a well dressed person in their 30's and ask him or her to deliver my package for $20. (That was about $200 in today's economy).
     I did this a dozen times and nobody ever turned me down. Nor did they ever fail to deliver the very next day! All this was way before 9/ll, the Vietnam War and today's security scrutiny at airports.
In earlier days it was possible to drive to the airport, park in a nearby garage, walk up to the ticket counter and buy a cheap ticket anywhere in the country.
     So, let's show a little more respect for our parents and grandparents. They had it better and they did it better.

I'll Never Forget The Day Jennifer's Music Teacher Was Arrested!

     It was a summer morning and teacher Dorothy was driving three of her middle school students to see the Barnum & Bailey Circus in New York City at Madison Square Garden.  Along the way from Westport, CT there was a lot of verbal banter in the Volkswagen "bug." All four were having an enjoyable experience. As Jennifer said, "I don't like Dorothy. I love her!"
     They lucked into a vacant parking space just next to Madison Square Garden and enjoyed two hours of exciting circus feats by clowns, jugglers and high wire antics. The band never stopped playing throughout the show and Dorothy, a viola teacher, hummed along with the Sousa marches.
     Afterwards, with cotton candy and ice cream cones, they returned to the car and were schocked to see the red roof was dented down about six inches . A note on the windshield said: "Sorry about the accident. When  we walked the elephants at intermission, one of them had his own red stool and thought your red car was his stool. We have notified our insurance company and they will pay for repairs." It was signed by the General Manager.
     Fortunately, they could all fit inside the car without much difficulty, except for Dorothy who had to hunch her head down a few inches. Then it was off to the nearby Westside Highway, the Cross County Parkway and the Merritt Parkway to Westport. About an hour's drive normally.
     But this was not going to be a normal day. As they approached Greenwhich,CT, there was an overturned car heavily damaged. Nearby were several Highway Patrol cars, a fire engine, an ambulance and a pickup truck involved in the accident. Dorothy slowed down, then speeded up to protect the children from seeing a tragedy.
     A minute later they heard a siren and saw the Highway Patrol car along side theirs. The uniformed officer signaled them to pull over and park on the highway shoulder. Dorothy did and rolled down her window when the officer came over. He was at least six feet six tall, probably weighed 250 pounds and a handsome man in his thirties.
     He asked Dorothy for her driver's licence, insurance and owner's certificate. She quickly complied and then he ordered her to step out of the car. Once out, he patted her down for weapons and then read her the Miranda Doctrine. She was under arrest for leaving the scene of an accident!
     Dorothy protested vehmently to no avail. When Dorothy said, "an elephant sat on my car!"
That did it. The officer replied, "Tell that to the judge. You're going to court right now." And so they all went to Greenwhich Municipal Court and stood before the judge. This robed dictator set bail for Dorothy ($10,000), which she posted by check, and her car was impounded.
     Jennifer called her dad in Westport to pick them up, which he did, and they all managed to laugh over the unexpected events of the day. Eventually, Dorothy's case was dismissed when the circus management vouched for the elephant's irresponsible sitdown on her car.
    

The Side Effects Will Kill You!

     I've seen far too many new drugs advertised on TV, in newspapers and magazines, that will cure everything from Obstructive Sleep Apnea (OSA) to severe incontinence. The manufacturers, such as Pfizer, make millions and even billions, without losing sleep or having to urinate three times a night.
     It seems very disingenuous for the profiteers to earn six figure salaries, say over the past two decades and climbing higher, but they still haven't cured even the common cold. What are they waiting for?  How many more patients have to die, just waiting for a doctor's appointment? Especially at VA Hospitals.
     General Trump (yes, he is our Commander-in-Chief), claims he can fix anything. He is also good at saying "you're fired" and his salute is that of a seasoned military man. Very short, sharp and snappy. Just wait until he gets five stars and then outranks the late General Eisenhower, supreme commander of all our armies in World War II. Then he'll nuke North Korea back to the stone age.
     But I'm getting off the subject. Xaralto promises to replace warfarin pills for blood thinning, to avoid blood clots. However, don't count your lucky stars yet. The ads warn customers they can't drop their pants for a shot of pills if they have an artificial heart valve. Otherwise they could suffer a heart attack, kidney stoppage, internal bleeding, shortness of breath, vomiting, headaches, dizziness and fainting. And then they would die.
     So I'll stay with my warfarin and take my chances. I have an excellent urologist who is considered one of Connecticut's best. He is also Chairman of the Norwalk Hospital Urology Department. And his office is a beehive of activity with patients coming and going, in both senses of the words. Hmmmmm. No pun intended.
     Recently I had a cystoscopy performed by the good doctor in his office. I could have selected the hospital, but there is too much paperwork, prior preparation, anesthesia and staying overnight. Although I don't like the size or look of the device he uses to examine my bladder, and then zap any growths that look malignant, the procedure was over in 20 minutes. No pain, no shame. Just a smaller instrument next time doc, please, in six months.
     This is my 143rd Blog, Questionable Commentaries, and I will have 200 by the end of this year. Are you listening advertisers? Meantime, check out my lawsuit against President Trump well defined in the April 14, 2017 issue of NEWSWEEK Magazine by reporter Zach Schonfeld.

The Reason Why I Chose To Be Disobedient And Challenge The Establishment!

    More than six decades ago when I was studying music at Ohio State University. M.E. Wilson was a stodgy sour puss in his sixties who lectured on music history before an auditorium class of 200 freshmen and sophomores. I was one of the latter, bored by the professor's salty attitude.

     Wilson never hesitated to insult someone. During one session, an attractive female student quietly left her seat and tiptoed towards an exit door. "Where the hell are you going?" He shouted: "Nobody leaves this class while I am speaking! Do you hear me?" The young lady calmly answered, "I have to go to the bathroom." And she exited through the door as Wilson continued rambling on about Mozart who never wrote a march. 

     "Whoa!" I said and  I stood up for emphasis. "Mozart wrote several marches. My friend Lee Briskin is a pianist and I'll ask her to play one now." Lee obliged, the students applauded, I smiled broadly as Wilson just sulked. He also looked at me with daggers.

     This course was required. We had a written exam at the end of the three-month term and I felt confident I would receive an A or B, because I knew the answers. A week later I received a letter from the chairman of the Music Department, Eugene Weigel, stating I had failed the course and would have to take it again!

     No way Jose, I thought. I'm not going to sit through an hour a week for three months listening to the SOB who never knew Mozart also composed marches. The errors in my final exam were: interchanging the definitions of Maestoso and Religioso. Also, I had scored a 16 bar sample melody using parallel fifths, a definite no-no in music at Ohio State University. I defied their traditional approach to music.

     To add insult to injury, M.E. Wilson had scrawled a large F on my exam and wrote:  "Anybody who confuses the definition of Maestoso and Religioso or uses parallel fifths, will not receive a passing grade. Mr. Abel, you are disobedient!"

     That's when I switched my major to Communications and concentrated on creating allegorical satire. I was already considered class clown and voted BMOC (Big Man On Campus), with a large photo hanging in the Student Union.

     My next act of rebellion was to compose an original piece of music, using many parallel fifths, for the Ohio State University Marching Band. Named “Serenade to a Sand Dune,” featuring the drum line. It was played during a halftime football game and again at the Rose Bowl. According to the COLUMBUS DISPATCH, director Jack Evans said, “Alan Abel's music received the greatest ovation ever accorded the band. “

     This is the reason why I devoted my life to be disobedient and challenge the Establishment .

It Was A Very Good Year When I Was 13

          

                                               

     At the tender age of 13 I had been learning to play the snare drum for a year. Then my teacher, Giovanni Baietti, said he taught me all he knew. So I had to find another teacher, although I was already playing with the Salvation Army Band in Coshocton, Ohio.  Population 12, 000.

     There were 25  musicians in the band. I was the youngest, and we played mostly for marches to the town cemetery. An older drummer, Lewis Bucklew in his 40’s, was cross-eyed and could never stay in step. He was always skipping to catch up, because we were in the last row.

         Giovanni Baietti was also assistant director of the 300 member Ohio State Fair Band, high school boys representing 88 counties in the state. They camped on the fair grounds in Columbus for two weeks every August.

     Mr. Baietti said I could be a gofer that summer, even though I was only in the 8^th grade, and to bring my drum along. Also, I would get to stand last in line with twenty-four percussionists during concerts and be allowed to play  “Stars and Stripes Forever.”

     I was terribly excited to be with such a huge band, under the direction of Dr. Louis E. Pete.  He was a 50-year-old conductor of the Ashland Symphony, had a prominent mustache and would sternly castigate any musician who didn’t follow his waving baton.

       During the first week of rehearsals I was busy passing out the mail and running errands for staff members. But I did find time to practice and look over the music I hoped to play the following year. I didn’t make any friends in the band because they were all older boys.

     Then came opening night of the Ohio State Fair.  There were 10,000 people in the Grand Stand watching us play a 15 minute concert broadcast on the NBC Blue Radio Network. I was at the tail end of 24 drummers when a strong wind suddenly blew over all the wire music stands!

     In the middle of von Suppe’s “Morning, Noon and Night in Vienna,” panic prevailed among the young musicians. No music stands, no music. Dr. Pete clutched his head in vain. He might as well be trying to ride a dead horse.

      That’s when I jumped into this sea of flying sheet music and fallen stands. Without missing a beat I began playing a series of cadences mezzo forte as Dr. Pete conducted. Several dozen staff members frantically dashed about picking up music and stands.  Giovanni Baietti, with a huge smile on his face, held up a sign reading START AT LETTER ‘C’ ON COMMAND.

     Our concert resumed and ended with sighs of relief. Dr. Pete said, “Drummer boy. You saved the concert. I could kiss you.” One bandsman shouted, “I’ll bet your mustache tickles.”

     I became Number One drummer immediately and four years thereafter.  It’s called serendipity.

    

    

A BAN ON THE WHITE HOUSE BREAST CORPS

     The  POTUSA has signed an Executive Privilege banning female reporters from attending a White House news conference, unless they display substantial breasts. The women could use wads of cotton, fake breasts or obtain enlargement surgery. The latter for a C or D cup size.
     President Trump treasures the women  in his family for displaying well endowed breasts, albeit their rumps are non-existant. Perhaps this will lead to more secret visits to the White House by the Kardashian sisters and Jennifer Lopez. They all have ample behinds that are quite remarkable.
     One White House reporter who spoke anonymously because he is fearful of losing his seat on AIR FORCE ONE, said quietly on the phone, "When I see the Trump family those gals are really spooky, the way they dress, walk and seldom smile. I can only think of that movie "The Night of the Living Dead." They give me butterflies in my stomach."
     So it makes sense for the White House family's women to display what WAL-MART customers would call 'umbrella asses' and also Larry the Cable Guy's audiences, plus millions of TV viewers.
A recent newsletter from the MAYO CLINIC in Rochester,Minnesota revealed a steady rise in plastic surgery procedures to enlarge female breasts.
     Twenty years ago HBO programmed a special hour called simply 'BREASTS' that was a huge success and shown many times on all their channels. They followed that cash cow program with one for women and gays called "Private Dicks....Men Exposed."  That particular pecker property really gave HBO its best rating ever!
     And speaking of gigantic ratings on TV, you can't go any higher than the Academy Awards did on Sunday night February 26 at around 11:15 pm EST when someone surreptitiously slipped the wrong envelope for Best Picture to MC Jimmy Kimmel and "La La Land" was declared the winner.
     That news got a standing ovation with cheers and applause that rocked the auditorium. But not so fast. The real winner was the movie "Moonlight" and the folks in charge rushed to the stage for another ovation. The right one of course.
     But our hat's off to the Kimmel gang for pulling off probably the greatest hoax in Academy Awards history, thus capturing many millions to see the exploit.