Is there more compelling evidence that the tariffs proposed by President Trump are wrong than the fact that Chuck Schumer supports them? Then again, Lou Dobbs, who many consider a mensch, does too. My instincts always tilt toward free trade, even when countries take advantage of us. It's now wait and see.
Yesterday someone posted a warning on my Facebook feed. I usually avoid them, as there are a lot of bad actors out there who offer false info and who doctor photos. This one claimed an HIV positive Cadbury employee tainted chocolates with his blood, and urged to "please share." I did. I should have ignored it as usual or, at least, googled to see if it was valid. It appears it isn't and I feel really dumb. My apologies to Cadbury, whose products I love.
Here's a shout out to Bensonhurst's own Joe Nesci, who after 30 years is stepping away from his position as head coach of NYU men's basketball. He won 512 games, lost 270, a stellar winning percentage of .654. In 1994 his team lost the Division III championship game. Well done, sir.
The six-episode 10th season of The X-Files was disappointing, not so the eleventh. Every one of the first eight episodes but the first has been good. Last night's approached the series' best, a small town going berzerk, supernatural elements at play. It was tough to take, as it violated a taboo that prime time TV would never have allowed years ago. I will not act as a spoiler to anyone who has yet to view it. I always complain about the shelving of one of the best episodes in the show's history, Home (Season Four, Episode Two), which centers on a rural inbred family, and which has never been rebroadcast, not even in the current syndication run on My9. I wonder if last night's episode will suffer the same fate. The former was simply creepy, the latter disturbing.
The floating book shop was up and running two days sooner than expected, as the Sheepshead Bay area had at most two inches of accumulation, even on cars, while just 16 miles west 20 inches or more fell. I should have ventured to an alternate site today, as melting snow was pouring down from the scaffold at my usual nook. I thought all the spots I used were out of harms way, but some books got wet. Fortunately, I kept my own in plastic. My thanks to the gentleman who bought a Franz Kafka bio.
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