Accelerated News

One of the joys of being a horseplayer is picking winners. Sure, you lose more races than you win, but when you win it is always enough to keep you going. I've been kept going since 1968.

If there is a hierarchy to horse racing, it is horseplayer to owner of horses. An owner of horse has way more skin in the game than a mere horseplayer. They, with luck, skill, a good trainer, a decent jockey, a good ride, and patience —lots of patience— get to stand in the winner's circle with their entourage and have their photo taken and be memorialized.

There is always an entourage when you own horses. Just look at a winner's circle when Mike Repole horses win—and of course if you follow horse racing—you know Mike's horses win often, and at the highest level. If Mike treats all those people to dinner after the race he'll need a catering hall. They must arrive in a bus.

Enjoying the game no less than a mega-owner like Repole is someone like Richie, Bobby G's longtime friend. Richie owns mainly New York Breds, usually not having more than 2 or 3 horses at a time. He's been in the ownership game for decades. 

Somewhere in that hierarchy of horseplayer and horse owner is someone in the middle who knows someone who owns horses. And through friendship with Bobby G. I know Richie for over 20 years now.

I was once treated to lunch with him and his entourage of friends and wives in Belmont's Trustees room. I've been the paddock when his occasional entries were saddled. Those visits never coincided with an appearance in the winner's circle though.

Richie has had a box at Saratoga now for decades. A box at Saratoga is as plain as it gets. Dusty wood and four Bentwood wicker chairs. It is not plush, but it's location, location, location. He doesn't even get a TV monitor..

Bobby G. and I always put a few bucks on Richie's horse in a race. Like anything else, we win and we lose. Over the years Richie has passed through a slew of trainers: Frank LaBocetta, Stanley Hough, Gregory DiPrima, Barclay Tagg, Lisa Lewis. He's won with some of them, some not. When you're an owner like Richie, you don't get Todd Pletcher or Chad Brown. Not even Linda Rice.

No problem. It's the game. I once asked his good friend Bob why don't you go in with Richie on some partnerships. Richie has been in partnerships with other small owners, like himself. Bob quickly told me: "Partners? It's bad enough one of us has the disease."

Richie has bred New York Breds. In the early aughts, Richie had a horse he was able to name Sweet Moving D after his wife, who apparently is a darn good dancer. Sweet Moving D did win some races, and finished second and third a few times to amass $88,538 in earnings. 

And so it goes for owners like Richie. They have a horse who probably breaks its maiden, then might win a second race, but is not in the league with horses who race for lofty conditions and purses.

Here we are in 2025 and Richie is still at it. He's got two lately, Accelerated News and Fleeting Free, both New York Breds, and now trained by the latest trainer Richie has worked with, Melanie Giddings, one of the emerging female trainers on the NYRA circuit.

Melanie is a seasoned horsewoman, starting her own solo career in 2023, after working as an assistant trainer for Mark Casse, Steve Asmussen and lately Jeremiah Engelhat's assistant for nearly six years.

All trainers start out working as assistants. Some stay in that role, others feel good enough to go off on their own and develop relationships with owners and take home more of the prize—of course when you do well and start to pull in some winners. It's a tough game being the lead trainer.

Richie has just hooked up with Melanie, with Accelerated News having raced 4 times with Lisa Lewis, not winning and only finishing second once, fourth two times, and amassing only a paltry $13,580 in purses this year. No world beater.

Accelerated News comes into the race this past Friday at Saratoga with Melanie being Richie's trainer for the first time. It's a new dawn, it's a new day.

Accelerated News is a four-old in a race for New York Bred maidens going 6½ furlongs with only 5 other horses, all 3-year olds, two unraced.

Accelerated News is of modest breeding. It she were a dog she'd be a mutt, or more politely called a "mixed breed." Her mare is undistinguished, bred with a sire for only $10,000, auctioned for only $51,000 at a Saratoga sale in 2022

She did not race as a four-year old, a sign there might have been some problems that had to be worked out. That's why patience is required in all aspects of the sport.

A trainer's job is not to just insure the safety of the animal, but to also think about where the horse should be entered. What distance, what surface are major points to consider.

There is something in racing called the condition book produced by the racing secretary's office of what races the track proposes to have run. This of course outlines distance and surface, turf or dirt, enter in a restricted New York bred, weight to carry, age, gender,  (races can be restricted to fillies and mares) and most importantly the eligibility conditions of the race. Who can be entered in any given race based on their prior wins or no wins in prior races.

Horses, if ready, can start racing at two. Accelerated News did not race as a two-year old, or as a three-year old. Richie's Accelerated News started as a four-year-old in Florida at Gulfstream Park in January of this year.

Gulfstream has an artificial dirt track and a regular turf course. There aren't many tracks these days that race on artificial all reason. Lisa Lewis had Accelerated News going in routes, a mile or more, on the turf course, or the artificial surface at Gulfstream. The results were hardly anything to crow about. Less than mediocre. Enter Melanie.

There is one thing you can gain by knowing how to read the Racing Form. It contains all the information you can know about how a horse has been running without asking the horse itself. The Form notes that Lisa Lewis was the trainer of record prior to Melanie taking over.

Melanie's numbers are not gangbusters, but she shows two wins at the Saratoga meet, where some trainers can go the entire meet without a winner. She shows a 15% win ratio for the year with 12 wins on 82 starts. A 15% win ratio is nothing to be ashamed of. Lisa was showing 10% on 31 starts. Anemic.

Florida does not card New York Bred races. Racing states have their own breeding programs. The New York Breeding program was started by Governor Carey, a governor who liked horses. Trainers gain success by finding the right race to enter a horse. As for Accelerated News, being a New York Bred, a  filly maiden, all Melanie had to do is find a race in the condition book restricted to New York Breds, for maiden fillies. She found the 6½ furlong race to be run on dirt, Accelerated's first try on natural dirt.

I once asked a racing secretary how do they create a condition book of races. There are only so many named races, Listed Black type races, or Grade I, II or III races where the conditions are spelled out way in advance, requiring trainers to sometimes pony up advance nomination fees to enter. The rest of the races are created by the racing secretary based on who is working out, getting in shape, and showing a desire by trainers to get in a race.

Keeping track of these possibles, the Racing Secretary will create a number of proposed races for the coming two weeks in the hope that enough trainers will enter their horses to "fill" the race. Not all created races attract enough starters—they do not fill. Thus, there are always more races proposed than can be run. 

With a race in mind to enter, a trainer can then train a horse for that distance and surface. This is where they either succeed, or fail. Good trainers pick the right spots and train up to the race accordingly.

Success is not guaranteed, because there are other trainers who are doing the same thing. But do they have the right horse and the right jockey lined up to do it?

Accelerated's competition doesn't look too tough. She in the only four year-old, and thus carries the most weight, 124 pounds vs. the 119 for the other entries. At this time of the year the right four year-olds in decent shape should beat the three year-olds. They should be bigger and ostensibly more developed.

There is one enrtrant that looks like what is called a "career maiden."  A career maiden shows numerous starts with no wins. Our Preferred Pal shows second three times and one third in 5 starts this year, the last two starts are both seconds. This can reveal what is called "seconditis" where the horse just can't seem to be urged past anyone to win. (Our Preferred Pal finished second again.) 

There is another horse, Sunshine Lily, trained by Richie's old trainer, Gregory DiPrima, who has yet to win a race this entire year. DiPrima must be semi-retired because he's only saddled 10 starters this year. Sunshine shows nothing, 4 starts so far, and is in with a trainer who is not clicking.

There are two unraced horses, both trained by Hall of Fame trainer Bill Mott, with one sporting a hefty   auction price of $100,000 and decent breeding, and first time Lasix, Manhattan Beauty.

Unraced horses are the great unknowns. You might apply parts of what is now Don Rumsfeld's famous opaque quote about unknowns: "But there are also unknown unknowns—those we don't know we don't know." You basically only have the works to determine readiness. Word of mouth might seep out from the backstretch, and you can see activity on the tote board that someone thinks they're in with a chance. This is called being "live on the tote." Manhattan Beauty, because of the Bill Mott connection, and probably the auction price is sent off as the favorite at $1.55 (3/2) to $1, Manhattan Beauty finishes last in the 6 horse field.

The Racing Form is packed with info. Aside from everything else, they crunch numbers and produce all important, useful trainer stats. They are a thing of beauty.

While Trainer Mott might win with a firster, it is only the occasional firster, since we see that his win percentage with them is a weak 6%. 

Many trainers do not have a firster fully cranked to win. The race is meant to be a bit of public workout, seeing how they break from the gate with competition. It's a feeling out process; the first round is a boxing match.

And then we come to Richie's horse, Accelerated News who shows something if you know where to look.

•First, Accelerated News is the only 4 year-old amongst 5 other 3 year-olds, two of whom have never race.

•Four year-olds at this time of year have an edge over 3 year-old. Four year-olds are bigger and stronger at this time of year compared to a 3 year-old.

•Richie has taken the horse from the care of Lisa Lewis and is now going with Melanie Giddings, who I feel he's going to have a beautiful friendship with. 

•Melanie is already an accomplished horsewoman who has gone out on her own after being an apprentice to several top trainers. Her numbers are good, and in certain instances they stand out. She is part of an emerging group of females who have gone out on their own and are looking to build a stable on their own.

•Melanie is hitting at a 15% win ratio with 82 starts. At the meet, she's already got 2 winners. Two training victories at Saratoga this early in the meet is a great accomplishment. There are trainers who haven't won a race yet,

•But it's in the trainer stats that Melanie shows her hand. These stats became part of The Racing Form now for many years. They started when Steve Crist was the publisher, and they are a man-made wonder of programming.

•The Form has maybe 30 categories of events that its computers track and print out several of the results of the categories as they apply to the race, e.g. if the horse is a firster, the computer tells you how that trainer does with first time firsters.

If the horse is moving from dirt to turf, or turf to dirt, there is a stat for that. The stats for Melanie are encouraging.

She wins 13% of the time when she's starting a horse for the first time her care: 1st/trn. 

She wins 29% of the time when she's starting a horse after a layoff of 61-180 days. Her horses fire off the bench. VERY good to know.

There are some other categories, but the results nearly equal her overall win ratio of 15%. When you get a trainer stat that exceeds the win ratio there's more to consider.  It's a good thing. And 29% is significantly more that the overall 15%. A green light.

•Accelerated's 4 starts have all been on artificial dirt, or turf, and all at a mile or more. Starting at Gulfstream you have to race on an artificial dirt surface.

•Trainers have success,—and therefore owners—when they find the right spot for a horse to run. Accelerated being a new York Bred is a natural for entering a New York Bred race. And not winning, is a natural for a maiden race, hopefully a Maiden Special Weight race where the horse cannot be claimed out of.

•Melanie has found a race for Accelerated in the condition book which in on the dirt—first time for Accelerated—because it's 6½ furlongs, a sprint, not a route race. Melanie is looking for where Accelerated can win. There is in no money in not winning.

The jockey to ride is Shaun Bridgmohon, not seen too much at NYRA tracks these days. He came on the scene quite a few year's ago and was cleaning up in races  at an Aqueduct winter meet because he had a had 5 pound weight allowance afforded apprentice jockeys until their 35th winner. He mostly rides in Kentucky these days.

•There is another stat that tells you how often the trainer/jockey combination is winning at the meet. For Accelerated and Melanie, it's 24%. at the meet. A good win ratio. Turns out, Richie tells us Melanie and Shaun are a romantic item. They are coupled in the winner's circle as well.0

So wagers are placed on Accelerated and last Friday's first race is eagerly awaited to watch. Fox Sports does a fantastic job covering the sport with good camera shots and highly knowledgeable people commenting. Their telecasts are a delight.

This first race is not a stellar field. I don't yet have a personal way of quantifying the competitive strength of a field. Like boxing, it's who did you beat. None of these horses finished behind a next out winner.

The Racing Form does a nifty piece of programming which tells you if the winner of a race the entrant was in went on to win the next time out. If your horse is reasonably behind the italicized horse, then you can deduce that your horse was probably in a competitive race, since the winner was good enough to win next time out as well. You got beat, and maybe close, to what might be a very good horse. Nothing wrong there, especially if that horse is not in today's race. Being close to repeat winners is a strength.

"Pace makes the race" is an adage that goes back probably before Pittsburgh Phil, a legendary handicapper and bettor from the late 19th century to the early 20th century. All the analysts on any racing show will ask out loud, "who takes the lead?" An unfolding race is imagined.

It's easy to see that Accelerated News is not a front runner. That quality goes to Miss Im Pulsive, ridden by Katie Davis, a journeyman jockey from a racing family that boasts of her father Robbie Davis being a jockey (now retired), her brother Dylan being a jockey, and sister Jacqueline being a jockey. All with varying degrees of success.

Of the three siblings, Dylan is the most successful. You can feel comfortable with Katie if the horse is a front runner and you think they'll go all the way. Jacqueline rides mostly at Finger Lakes, but there was a race when all three of them were in the same race. 

Miss Im Pulsive's two starts have been with Katie. Continuity with the same jockey is a positive. The jockey/trainer ratio is a solid 29%, but the trainer, Amelia Green,  hasn't won at the meet with only 4 starts. Miss Im Pulsive is sure to take the lead.

So what happens when the gates open up?

If you can't see the race you can see replays, or you can read the chart of the race shortly thereafter. The chart is the historical record of how the race unfolded. It too contains a raft of information. 

Aside from seeing Manhattan Beauty being the favorite at $1.55 to $1, we see Miss Im Pulsive going off as the second choice at $1.80 to $1 and Accelerated being $3.40 to $1. Hardly a long shot.

As expected, Miss Im Pulsive takes the lead and cuts some ungodly fractions for horses of this caliber: 221/5 for the quarter; 451/5 for the half. These are stake horse fractions.

There are pretty much 4 of them across the track, with Accelerated on the outside, running the furthest distance. But Miss Im Pulsive shows her colors and quits, and Accelerated is in front by a head at the quarter pole and starts to explode.

The lead at the top of the stretch is 5½ lengths and is looking like a winner. Richie is probably getting ready to leave his box and trot downstairs and have his picture taken.

By the time Richie reaches the bottom step Accelerated News finishes with an astounding 123/4 length lead. Nice work when you get it.

Richie is snagged for a post race interview by Acacia Courtney Clement, an attractive, knowledgeable horse woman who is a communications graduate from Fordham, and whose great-uncle was Tom Courtney, a winner of two gold medals in track at 800 meters and as the anchor in the 4x400 relay for the U.S. at the 1956 Melbourne Olympics.  Acacia was once Miss Connecticut. She is married to Miquel Clement, the head trainer now for the Clement barn since his father passed away at 59 a few weeks ago. 

Miguel is the apple that didn't fall far from the tree. He's already won graded races. Racing people are a lot like circus people: there are lots of family connections.

Richie bursts with excitement and tells Acacia that Bridgmohon has won races for him in Baltimore. Richie is a seasoned owner who has been in the game for decades.

Richie has won races before at Saratoga. But any win is good; a win at Saratoga is wonderful, since he takes home a purse of $49,000, of which 10% goes to Bridgmohon and 10% to Melanie. Some bills are getting paid.

What's next for Accelerated? It is not impossible to think Melanie will find another race for her before the meet ends at Saratoga.  You can only win a maiden race once. From here, the waters get a little deeper. Most horse don't win more than 3 races in their careers. 

Melanie has to hope the condition book has a New York Bred next level allowance race, or find a non-winners of two lifetime. Accelerated's competition will next consist of horses that have won a race. They won't be complete pushovers like this race.

But for now, Richie is smiling.

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Basket Case

This is a somewhat early effort by Carl Hiaasen, the reporter for the Miami-Herald who has produced a  shelf of books set in South Florida, usually populated with a cast of characters who have been in prison, should be in prison, or are of microscopic intelligence roaming South Florida like the dinosaurs once did.

In more recent novels Carl sets out with a sharp satire of the politics of South Florida and the unchecked real estate development, usually accomplished with some cozy relationships between the developers and the town boards that approve the applications to build.

The main character is Jack Tagger, a middle-age obituary writer for the Union -Register. Jack has been sent to newsroom purgatory, the obituary beat, because he cracked wise at a stock holders meeting for the conglomerate owners of the Union-Register, lead by a polo playing dillettante Race Maggard III.

Carl's anger at the state of newspaper ownership by media conglomerates is channeled through his character Jack. Jack rails against the staff cuts that leave the paper bereft of enough reporters to adequately cover the newspaper within the paper's radius. He believes that without reporters going to the town and county meetings official corruption goes unearthed.

Jack made his bones when he uncovered bribes and official malfeasance with bus contracts. He was a page one reporter until the stockholders meeting sent him to the then dead end job of writing obits.

Obituary writing has become an exulted writing assignment in the time after Carl's 2002 book. The tribute obits written by New York Times and other large city reporters are so numerous and well written that they appear in the online edition and have to wait for space to move up to the print edition. A reporter might have two bylines in a day appear in the print edition. They might be the busiest reporters at the paper.

Jack is 46, and his editor, Emma Cole is 27. Emma had taken up nursing, but didn't like it. Emma of course is expected to fire Jack, "beak her cherry," on firing someone, but doesn't yet have the cause. She and Jack are a bit contentious but we all know where this repartee is going. The bedroom.

When Jack has to write the obit for a once-upon-a-time rock star, Jimmy Stoma, Jack's investigative juices start to flow as he interviews Jimmy's sister Joan and the new wife, Cleo, a wanna be rock star who made a viral video that apparently showed off female genitalia, à la Paris Hilton. Carl describes Cleo down to ger painted toes, white, that he thinks look like paint chips.

Joan is a suitable character herself who dresses in costume as if she's a member of a SWAT team and other authoritative characters, and poses and talk provocatively to subscribers via her podcast living room, setup with klieg lights, the works. She doesn't fully strip. She teases. Hey, everybody got to earn a living.

The story takes off as Jack stars to unfold what happened on the diving accident in the Bahamas that killed Jimmy Stoma, a seasoned diver.

As the story progresses, former members of Jimmy's band start showing up dead, or injured at the hands of Cleo's goons. Emma gets kidnapped by the two murderous henchmen of Cleo that results in a hostage exchange in the middle of Lake Okeechobee with Jack and another reporter, Juan in a Johnboat. There are firearms.

The thugs are in one of those air boats, pictured here,,  they ply the shallow, swampy waters of South Florida. There was once a TV show from 1960-1961, "The Everglades," about Florida police zipping around in an airboat catching the bad guys. The boat was the star.

We're getting near the denouement. Imagine two knuckleheads getting caught in the blades of the airboat, that when revving, sounds like a prop plane on a runway.

Carl describes the resulting carnage with detail, and wit, and leaves you knowing that it was a grisly scene. He tells us Jack is having nightmares over it.

And here's where I'm going with this. After the dust settles from getting Emma back and the two idiots meeting their end, Juan tells Jack: "We're not meant to forget such things—it's the price of survival."

I stopped reading and kept re-reading the line. I had trouble finding it again because it is just a sentence at the end of a paragraph that is broken into two lines.

Live long enough and you'll probably survive something that might have killed you. Carl Hiaasen has the fictional Jack having nightmares over the scene of recovering Emma and dispatching the goons. I have memories of my own survivals

Basket Case was written in 2002. Carl Hiaasen would have his own emotional survival when on June 28, 2008 a disgruntled wacko was so upset about his defamation suit against the Capital-Gazette, a newspaper out of Annapolis Maryland, being thrown out of court that he stormed into the newsroom armed with  pump shotgun, plenty of ammo, smoke bombs, and a means to block exits and took out 5 people and injured 2 more. One of those killed was Carl's brother Rob. The Hiaasens are a multi-generational newspaper family. In a later book. Carl dedicates the book to his brother.   

The gunman, Jarrod Ramos was found hiding under a desk. He received 5 consecutive life sentences. and remains in prison.

But getting back to Basket Case, Jack is having career anxiety and quits his job at the paper, even after being promoted to an investigative team. He's burned out writing obituaries, and can't stop thinking about how long people live before they die. When he reaches his 47th birthday he is somewhat relieved because he has now outlived those who died at 46.

But all is not glum. Jack has met Ike, a 93 year-old former obituary writer who imparts his philosophy about achieving longevity.

Ike is on the pier fishing near the phone booth Jack has to be near to get a call from the kidnappers who've got Emma. Ike knows Jack from reading newspapers. He tells Jack he's has three heart attacks , lost half his stomach, fourteen feet on intestines. And is trusty old prostate is one thing or another. Plus he's had two divorces in community property states. "so there's not much on God's green earth that scares me."

Ike attributes his longevity to "healthy salt air" and having made up his mine not to die of anything but old age. "I stopped smoking because I was afraid of cancer; swore off booze because I was afraid of driving my car into a tree; gave up hunting because I was afraid of blowing my head off; quit chasing trim because I was afraid of being murdered by a jealous husband. I shaved the odds, is what I set out to do."

In the Epilogue, Jack wants Emma to meet Ike, but he's not around, until he is, and surprises Jack with having overheard his conversation about quitting. Jack ask where was he. "Battling an unmannered polyp."

Ike is a spiritual character. Jack meets Ike again on the pier when he's with Emma and he's quit his job at the Union-Register. Ike gives him a gung-ho journalism speech about the profession saving the world looking for truth.

Ike is as salty as the sea air. He leaves Jack with one more piece of advice to achieve longevity.  "Next time you go to the doctor, be sure to have 'em check the plumbing. They stick a camera up your ass, but it's no worse than your average divorce."

I'd pay to hear an ad put it that way.

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Married, But Not to Each Other

It blew up on all the media when the CEO of the $1.3 billion AI company Astronomer, Andy

Byron, and his head of HR, Kristin Cabot were caught canoodling when the Kiss Cam at a Cold Play concert caught them embracing—and then ducking—in their seats.

Kristin looks truly alarmed, as if a spaceship of Martians had landed on the stage. Chris Martin, lead singer of Cold Play, quipped "those two are either having an affair, or are just shy." 

The fallout was nearly instantaneous since there is almost nothing that doesn't go viral today if it's embarrassing. And if it implies hanky-panky with possible A-listers, or the 1%, then it's really got legs.  These weren't two people from the mail room. The married CEO resigned, and Kristin, also married, took a leave from the company. Well, they are married, just not to each other.

As for Andy and Krisitn caught at the Cold Play concert, Myron Cohen would have said: "hey, everybody's got to be someplace."

Kristin Cabot is a descendant of the very upper crust Brahmins of Boston, the Cabots. It's almost like when Sybdney Biddle Barrows was busted for running a prostitution ring and it was revealed that she was a direct descendant from the Barrows who came over on the Mayflower. The tabloid press, ever ready to attach a nickname, labeled her "The Mayflower Madame." A film and musical followed. Sex sells.

Not withstanding the public shaming of the Andy and Kristin. there's nothing new here. It's got to be the most famous busted relationship of a CEO since William Agee was finally linked to a high level employee Mary Cunningham at Bendix in the 1980s. They were a power couple way ahead of Bill and Hillary.  They eventually married 20 months after the rumors could no longer be denied.  Bill was recently divorced when he was squiring Mary around town. Mary was also divorced. They married 20 months after the rumors ere confirmed

Their affair wasn't outed on a Kiss Cam, but it resulted in Mary leaving the company, and lots of editorializing  about CEOs and other powerful figures having affairs with subordinates.

The sports reporter Dick Schaap once got in a TON of trouble years ago when he said Joseph and Mary were the most famous stablemates since Secretariat and Riva Ridge, two top class thoroughbreds from Meadow Stable in the 1970s.

Of course Bill and Mary weren't caught on a Kiss Cam and they were already in the market to be dating. But Andy and Kristin were paraded through the electronic town square. Where did they go after the Kiss Cam? Back to a hotel room they may or may not have already had lined up in order to discuss the concert's playlist?

Years ago, decades ago, another century ago it was 1966 and I was a senior in high school. New Year's Day saw the subway workers in NYC go out on strike as the ball went down in Times Square. It would be the first of many strikes during the mayor's, John Lindsay's, administration. It fact, NYC began to be  called Strike City.

By then I was a dedicated viewer of The Tonight Show starring Johnny Carson. Carson was big. With the city somewhat at a standstill, I figured I might be able to get into a taping of The Tonight Show since people with tickets might not make the show. I was living with my grandmother on East 19th Street, and the walk to 30 Rock was hardly impossible. I was right. 

I got in with what was called a provisional ticket, and found myself in the TV audience at 30 Rock. I distinctly remember Ed McMahon warming the audience up before they went on the air with a sly warning that the audience would be shown on camera and that "if you're with someone you shouldn't be, you might want to duck down." Everyone laughed. Maybe some nervously.

That night Johnny introduced a new singing duo named Simon and Garfunkel, and joked that they sounded like a name inside a suit label as he flapped his jacket open. Droll. They of course sang 'Sounds of Silence.'

I don't remember who else was on that night, but I was pumped that I got in. The transit strike dragged on and I figured to try it again. Again success, although this time, even then, Johnny took the evening off and Corbet Monica, a comedian of that time was the guest host.

I do remember Betsy Palmer was on, and a Greenwich Village performance artist named Theodore were on. He scared Betsy Palmer. And probably a few others.

Before the show, Ed McMahon made the same sly warning as he walked up an aisle in the audience. Hey, I've heard this before. But others probably hadn't.

Chris Martin of Cold Play is set to play another concert and set to issue the same warning Ed McMahon made nearly 60 years ago: duck.

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Concetta Franconero

Connie Francis, 87, Who Wrung Every Teardrop From Ballads Dies, the NYT obit headline informs us.

Connie got a 21-gun salute, with a full page obit all to her own after the jump from the front page, below the fold in Friday's paper. I think there are some editors left at the NYT who are Connie Francis fans.

As for myself, I never was. It always sounded to me like she was crying, which I guess was her appeal to many. I worked with a fellow, a little older than myself, who was a HUGE Connie Francis Fan, He went to as many of her concerts as he could. He boasted of getting her autograph in a restaurant. He also played the saxophone, I guess pretending to be a member of Bill Haley's band. Into his 50s, Alan still had do-wop hair.

I've never added any Connie Francis songs to my iPod. I will now that she's passed away, because that's what I do. I'll look for a cheap Greatest Hits CD, since I don't have one of those either. I do like music.

Anecdotes make an obit, and there's one in Connie's that appears in both the NYT obit and the Wall Street Journal's. (Yes, the WSJ writes obits, just not as many as the NYT.)

It is interesting how the two papers describe the incident with Bobby Darin and her father. I wonder if they re-enact it in the Broadway play 'Just in Time' about Darin.

The New York Times's version is not quite as dramatic as the WSJ's. Apparently the story goes, as described in the NYT:

"Like Mr. Darin, with whom she was romantically involved until her father chased him off with a gun..."

The WSJ:

A romance bloomed with fellow teen idol Bobby Darin. But when her father heard rumors he stormed into a rehearsal and pulled a gun on Darin, ending their relationship and seeming to set Francis on a pained and traumatic path. She was married four times and would say that only her third husband, Joseph Garzilli was worth the trouble.

Poor Connie.

The NYT tells us Connie was born December 12, 1937, in Newark to George and Ida Franconero. She grew up in the Ironbound neighborhood. Her father, the son of Italian immigrants, was a dockworker and a roofer who loved to play the concertina, and he put an accordion in his daughter's hands when she was 3."

The translation to her father's description was he was one tough Guniea who protected his daughter like Fort Knox protects gold. He reminds me of Natalie Wood's suffocating Italian family in the 1963 movie 'Love with the Proper Stranger.'

The anecdote I was hoping to see in either paper was the one where Ms. Francis would tell anyone who was listening that the only way an Italian girl was leaving the house was in a wedding dress or a coffin."

Connie will be remembered by many.

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Born When?

It has got to be the first obituary headline I've ever seen in the New York Times where the deceased's age is not given. Why is this? Because it just can't be confirmed, but the deceased is believed to be over 100, and I guess the editors thought better of a headline...Possible Centenarian, not wanting to admit to suspicion, or, as might be said, "throwing shade on his achievements." 

Whatever the headline lacks, Fauja Singh, Who Lived a Marathon And Set an Age Record in One, is nevertheless no longer with us, as the print edition tells us.

Mr. Singh gave his date of birth as April 1, 1911, which easily makes him over 100 years old. But there are no reliable records from where he was born, Beas Pind, in the Punjab region of India, which at the time was under British rule. His parents were farmers. He started running to overcome the depressing feelings he had over the death of his wife and a daughter who died in childbirth, and a son who died in a freak accident during a storm.

I can understand unknown birth dates. My grandfather's brother Peter came to this country from Greece in 1912 when the Ellis Island records say he was 18, (but was he?) accompanied by my grandfather, who was already in the country. My grandfather had gone back to Greece to bring his younger brother over to join him in what was then the family business of a shoe shine parlor and blocking hats at St. Mark's Place in Manhattan, that later morphed into the flower business on East 18th Street.

If you're considered to be 18 in 1912, then I guess you're birth year is 1894. This made my bachelor great-uncle 47 in 1941 when the United States entered WW II.

The armed forces needed manpower, and even a 47 year-old bachelor got drafted. My uncle spent his years in the Army in Kentucky assigned to the Quartermaster Corps. At that age, basic training must have been an adventure. I'm sure he was in the shape of his life. His discharge papers said his character was "excellent." I was always proud of him.

On October 13, 2011 at a track meet in Toronto, Fauja Singh set eight world records for the 95-plus age group, winning at distances from 100 meters to 5,000 meters.

As a Sikh he wore the required turban, and became known as the "Turbaned Tornado." This moniker could easily have been used if he segued into professional wrestling, which he didn't.

After his performance in Toronto, he followed it up three days later by completing the Toronto Waterfront Marathon in 8 hours 25 minutes and 16 seconds. He was judged to be the first "reputed centenarian" to complete a marathon.

He did receive assistance getting across the marathon finish line, and despite having a passport, he could not produce a birth certificate, something a remote village in India in 1911 neglected to provide. World records were not officially recognized, but still no one near whatever his  age was ahead of him. Unlike counting rings on a tree, human age cannot be independently ascertained. Carbon dating bones while you're alive might be out?

He completed his first marathon in London in 2000 in 6 hours 54 minutes. He followed up with marathons in New York, Toronto and Frankfurt. He appeared in an advertising campaign by Adidas.

By 2016 his marathon days were over. A children's book was written about him, with a forward from Mr. Singh.

As you might expect, actuaries are very sensitive to age. When are you truly eligible for a pension, or a certain premium on your life insurance for example.

The British government did grant him a pension, but the obit does not say when they did or at what age Mr. Singh was recognized as qualifying for one. 

No doubt however about getting his pension. Queen Elizabeth sent him a congratulatory telegram on his 100th birthday.

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Is the Rabbit a Dumb Bunny?

I know very little about opera. I know very little about a lot of things, and opera is right up there at the top. If by some mistake I was called in to audition for Jeopardy, I would have to bone up on astronomy, mythology and opera. Whenever the answer is about opera, or those other categories, I seldom get the question right.

I've only ever been to a few operas, enjoyed then, but not enough to make me close to a being a fan. I saw the movie version of 'La Traviata' with Plácido Doming and Teresa Stratas. I saw Carmen (I love the music, but it's too long with two intermissions, and I know I dozed off.)

I saw de Fledermaus at the Metropolitan Opera with Sid Cesar playing the comic role of the jailer. I saw light opera a few times, Gilbert and Sullivan, and took in the famous production of the 'Pirates of Penzance' with Linda Ronstadt and Kevin Kline. Seeing the opera scenes in the movie 'Moonstruck' shouldn't count. None of this will ever be enough to advance on Jeopardy.

I will however read obituaries about the passing of opera stars. I do this because I read almost all obituaries (seldom about dance) in the hope that I'll remember something that might get me on Jeopardy if I ever take the online test again. (Doubtful)

So it was with the NYT obituary of Stuart Burrow, a Welsh lyric tenor who was renowned for his roles in Mozart Operas. I stopped in my reading when the obiturist, Adam Nossiter reached back for a quote from a NYT review of Mr. Burrows performance in his Metropolitan Opera debt, in the role of Ottavio, in Mozart's opera 'Don Giovanni.'

The reviewer, Donal Henehan, wrote about Stuart Burrows flawless singing of the challenging 'Il Mio Tesoro' aria:

"The aria was phrased with musicianly grace., and its famous one breath endurance test was met without a hint of strangulation. Add to his musical virtues the sensible stage deportment of Mr. Burrows (he did not try to shirk the fact that Ottavio is one of the most ineffectual rabbit brains in all of opera) and you have an important Metropolitan debut."

To me the translation to this praise is that Mr. Burrows was great in a singing performance of a difficult aria from a character who is basically a dumb bunny. Dumbest bunny in all of opera no less. Wow.

I guess poor Ottavio is stupid, (timid?) but not so stupid to sing an aria flawlessly. Tough to please intellectually, I guess.

So, what does Ottavio do that makes him appear so stupid? Knowing nothing about the character, I consult ChatGPT, which I put some faith in. It answers my query of "What makes Ottavio in Mozart's 'Don Giovanni' a rabbit brain" as follows:

The phrase "rabbit brain" used in reference to Don Ottavio from Mozart's Don Giovanni is not a technical or scholarly term, but rather a colorful, critical insult—most famously attributed to the conductor and pianist Arturo Toscanini, who reportedly dismissed Ottavio as a “rabbit brain” ("testa di coniglio" in Italian). This phrase reflects a longstanding interpretive bias against the character.

And how does poor Ottavio earn the moniker?

Ottavio is often seen as weak and passive, especially when compared to other characters in the opera. Despite Donna Anna’s pleas for vengeance after her father's murder, Ottavio delays action and sings about justice more than he actually pursues it. This can make him seem spineless or overly cautious.

Example: In “Il mio tesoro,” he sings of comforting Anna and seeking justice—but it’s a gentle, elegant aria, not a war cry.

Poor guy. He's a wimp.

A question to ask, "are rabbits dumb bunnies?

They're smart enough to dig holes in my front lawn and hide from our outdoor, neutered female cat, who my wife tells once started picking off baby rabbits like popcorn when they emerged from hiding. What a mess.

According to ChatGPT, rabbits are, when asked about their intelligence: Are rabbits stupid?

Rabbits aren't stupid — they're just different from humans in how they think and respond to the world.

Here’s what rabbits are:

• Instinct-driven: They rely heavily on instinct for survival, which can sometimes make their behavior seem skittish or hard to understand.

• Social and trainable: With patience, many rabbits can learn their name, be litter trained, and even do tricks.

• Smart in their own way: They’re good at problem-solving in areas that matter to them (like escaping enclosures or finding food).

As for opera, it seems to me that you have to know the story before watching (or enduring) the opera. As for rabbits, they're a pain in the ass when they're digging holes in your lawn.

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Jane Stanton Hitchcock

It's been a while since I read an obituary so full of head-shaking, sparkling tidbits as are in the recent NYT obituary headlined: "Jane Stanton Hitchcock, Novelist Who Razed the Ritzy, Dies at 78."

You can almost bet that anyone whose name is composed of two surnames (with no obvious ethnic giveaways other than you figure their family was wealthy) that they went to private schools. So it is with no surprise to read later on in the obit that Ms. Stanton Hitchcock attended the Brearley School in Manhattan, the Wheeler School in Providence R.I. and Sarah Lawrence College, graduating in 1968."

Right from the lede, we start to feel the what a special person Ms. Stanton Hitchcock was...."a daughter of privilege who skewered the foibles of her tribe..."

Mr. Stanton Hitchcock "grew up in Manhattan at 10 Gracie Square, a blue-chip co-op on the East River that was once home to Gloria Vanderbilt, Brooke Astor and other New York society figures." [Beekman Place ain't bad either.] 

The obiturist for Ms. Stanton Hitchcock, Ms. Penelope Green, is so full of what might be inside information, that one wonders if she herself was not invited to some of the family's dinner parties that Jane grew up with that saw Leonard Bernstein take over the living room piano (he always took over the piano).

Jane gets a 19-gun salute with six columns, top of an obit page, two medium size photos, as well as three! reproductions of book covers for some of the many crime novels she wrote..."addictive" according to Ms. Green. (I ordered one, "Bluff.")

"A tart observer and professional wit (did she get paid for cracking wise in an elevator?)...it wasn't until she began mixing social satire with murder that she found her voice." 

This proved that crime can pay well if the stories sell well, which they did. Her last effort, "Bluff,"  published in 2019, is about a "56-year-old socialite (you can make yourself younger) turned poker player who sets out to murder the celebrity accountant who has stolen money from her family."

This is a thinly veiled personal account of her turning into a tournament poker player in real life, and making sure the celebrity accountant who stole money from her mother (and others) was taken to criminal court.

In real life, the mother's gardener tipped off Jane that the accountant was siphoning money off from the mother. It took Jane some time to convince her mother that she was getting duped, and even more time to gain an indictment and a trial against the accountant. But Jane was tenacious.

I don't know all the details of the book, but in real life the accountant was found guilty and received a seven and a half years sentence. The prosecutors asked for a 12-year sentence, but the judge felt some sympathy for the defendant and argued for the lighter sentence saying that  his victims were all well off and that Mr. Starr had lost his moral compass because of his affection for his fourth wife, a former pole dancer. I kid you not. It's in the obit.

That has to be perhaps the only time that a gentlemen's club dancer was instrumental in achieving a lighter sentence for their husband.

I regret never having met Ms. Jane Stanton Hitchcock, but given her described social circles and pursuit of poker, it's understandable why I never did.

My father would have said, "she was quite a gal."

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Fever Beach

Carl Hiaasen has lost his mind. May he never find it or have someone put it in a mailbox for guaranteed postage.

Just finished reading his latest, "Fever Beach," which goes to show you some good can come out of the January 6th siege of the nation's capitol. Mr. Hiaasen has created a cast of characters that in their own way resemble Jimmy Breslin's "The Gang that Couldn't Straight" about the Mafia in South Brooklyn.

Mr. Hiaasen's gang is the Strokers for Liberty, a rag tag cohort of heavily armed, but nearly benign White Supremacists in South Florida who can't think straight.

The Stokers, who believe in branding, try and portray the final "s" in their name as a swastika, only to have it come out looking like a smudged typo.

The Strokers, eventually The Strokerz, (get it?) are lead by a fruitcake named Dale Figgo, who tries to get a membership with nom de guerres like Bed Pan, Skid Mark, Raw Dog and Bottle Rocket all rowing in the same direction. There is probably someone named Stick Shift as well. Dale partially succeeds when they meet at night on Fever Beach, where the only illumination is coming from Tiki torches and not their brains.

There is also of course a overly horny, corrupt Congressman whose father cleans up his messes, and a charity /foundation which funnels money into creating a workforce of dangerous juveniles who are given access to serious power tools to build a house for the "community." They are called "The Wee Hammers."

There is an escort named Galaxy who has the video and the pictures of her with the Congressman during playful sex games. Galaxy portrays herself as underage to the Congressman because that turns him on even more, but who is actually in her mid-20s. Several fake driver licenses back up whoever she wants to be.

One of the highlights to me in book is when the congressman tells Galaxy that he's heard on Fox News, from Jeanine Pirro no less, that there are woke lobbyists on Capitol Hill who are trying to get legislation passed to ban black 8-balls in pool, and replace them with rainbow colored ones. Congressman Boyette is trying to get a bill passed that preserves black 8-balls, even though no one is trying to change them.

In this sea of wackos there are two do-gooders,  Twilly and Viva, who manage to get a pivotal vote changed on a seven  member zoning board for yet another unsightly, corruptly funded and approved development, by producing a board member who all thought was dead. For shits and giggles they also manage to blow up an excavator at the job site because Twilly carries dynamite in the back of his car and knows who to use it.

Several of the characters meet death by forms so strange that the medical examiner is challenged on how to code the cause of death using the International Classification of Diseases, which even has a code for death by wayward trolley. The flag pole death might spawn a new code.

Twilly and Viva are pretty much responsible for the breakup of the Strokerz and the waylaying of the condo project, The Bunkers. But Twilly knows it's just pissing in the ocean.

Another developer will succeed in building something and another group of wackos will congeal for awhile. It is after all South Florida.

Life goes on everywhere.

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Note:

After reading Carl's "Fever Beach," I'm left in awe how he stitches together so many ways to describe someone. Reading him is infectious to see if I can come up with my own cast of characters and misfits. Here goes:

Hans-Peter is a butt model for a famous toilet seat company in Wisconsin. He is called on to be a paid consultant to use and report on different toilet seat prototypes developed by the company.

Hans-Peter and the company are particularly interested in comfort and the appearance of residue that lands on surfaces that don't get cleaned by a singular flush. In other words, poop where you don't want it to land, unless you're providing stool samples for an annual physical.

As the company produces new prototypes, Hans-Peter is called in to consult. It is not bad work, but does require adherence a certain diet in order to poop as many times as is needed to get a good "feel" and "reading" of the proposed model.

Hans-Peter enjoys the work since it is indoors and keeps him out of the cold Wisconsin winters. His grandfather was also a butt model, but in those days his testing was done outdoors in what looked like a broom closet with a half moon carved into the door.

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