New Jersey 101

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• We call it Great Adventure, not Six Flags.
• We call it the shore, not the beach.
• We call it pork roll, not Taylor Ham or Canadian Bacon.
• We call it a sub, not a hoagie or a hero.
• We call it the Parkway, not the Garden State Parkway or GSP.
• We call it the Turnpike, not the New Jersey Turnpike or NJT.
• We call it the City, not New York City or the Big Apple.
• We all know a guy named Anthony Bologna and of course, call him Tony Baloney.
• We think a hard roll with butter is a complete breakfast (two food groups = ahead of the game).
• We all declare the region we’re from – instead of saying we’re from “New Jersey,” we say I’m from “North Jersey”, “Central Jersey” or “South Jersey.”
• We say stuff like “I got your _____ right here” and believe it is a logical sentence.

Organ Donation Controversy

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I’ve written a lot of articles for senior citizens’ markets, so when I read about former Vice President Dick Cheney’s heart transplant, it piqued my interest. At 71 years old, Cheney is one of the lucky few older Americans to receive a life-saving organ donation. In a previous post, I wrote about how the United Network for Organ Sharing was considering putting an age limit on potential transplant recipients.

At the other end of the age spectrum, three-year-old Amelia Rivera was denied a transplant due to her mental retardation, her parents claim.

Then today, I saw this article on www.nj.com about a proposed rule that in order to be considered as a transplant recipient, you must be registered to donate your own organs (once you’re done with them, of course) or you will not be considered for a transplant.

Now, I’m all for organ donation, but some people aren’t. It’s still called “donation” and I think until you call it what it is under this proposal, involuntary organ harvesting, it’s going too far. It shouldn’t matter how old you are or whether you plan to donate your organs once you pass on; it should just be a matter of medical necessity. Eminent domain should not apply to our bodies.

Friday Kvetch-Fest

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Okay, you peeps, I’m resurrecting the Friday Kvetch-Fest.

My thing is, how can you say you’re speechless?

And, that expression, work like a dog? C’mon! Pooches are lazy as the day is long!

And is the day really that long? It’s standard-issue, really. 24 hours, no matter if you set the clock forward or back. Would anyone mind if I just keep my clock at the same time, and then take that extra hour later in the year when I need it? Who’s in charge of this time and space thing, anyway. I demand names!

All right, then. I have vented. Back to our regular programming!