I don’t feel much like writing just about now. Maybe it’s the beautiful weather. Maybe I’m becoming weary of the post-election venom coming from the other side which, from my vantage point, seems to far outweigh in quantity and vigor the gloating coming from our side.

I need a bit of a break from it all.

That’s why spending a few hours with the Usual Suspects at the Post Lounge is what the doctor ordered. I’m quite certain that the talk won’t be political, as I assume that they too are in need of an island of time to talk about other things. The conversational soup will likely contain the following ingredients:

Football: There is almost always a game on, which produces a certain amount of hooting and hollering. It also provides an oppurtunity for the Giants and the Jets fans in the group to berate the other guy’s team.

Music: “Turn that up.” “No, turn that shit down.” “Who the hell changed the Oldies station?” “Turn the damned radio off. I brought a Ray Charles CD with me.” “Don’t any of you guys have a damned MoTown CD. I freakin’ love MoTown.”

Kids: What are they up to? How they have managed to make you happy, or piss you off over the last week?

Grandkids: For those who have them, it’s babysitting, babysitting, babysitting.

Meds: Just about all of us have this in common. It’s always nice to know who’s taking the same stuff for a “side effect check.”

Traffic: You can’t live in New Jersey and not talk about traffic.

Cigars: Who brought what today? There’ll be the usual swapping, sampling and commentary.

Liquor: “Yo, try the Gentleman Jack. It’s good stuff.” “Baloney. Too expensive. Not worth the price. Gimme a Jim Beam and soda.”

Beer: “Budweiser is the KING of beers!” “Bullshit. That stuff is kidney wash, plain and simple.”

Although “politics” will not be on the agenda, we always take time to honor and offer a toast to our men and women in the military who now don the uniforms that we all once wore.

It’s a nice place to be, and, yes, everybody knows your name.

Right now the temperature in my part of New Jersey is in the mid sixties. I took my walk today in shorts and a tee shirt and managed to get pretty sweaty in the process. Many (if not most) of the people I encountered along the way obviously dress according to the calendar, rather than the thermometer. I even saw a handful of people in wool coats! I don’t know how they avoid heat exhaustion.

So much for mindless meanderings. I’ve got some stuff to do.