There’ll be swingin’ and swayin’ and records playing.
Dancing in the street. Unquote.

Alright 25 show us what’s on “tap.”
Right-left-right cha cha cha.
24’s about to wrap.
Let’s do the hokey pokey.
Double down and bet the store.
We ‘ll turn on the victrola.
And dance across the floor.
A little twist and hully gully.
If that’s what it will take.
Then we’ll lindy hop and jitterbug.
No more dancing just in place.
Hit the ground and sprint ahead.
Add input to affect a change.
Come on boogie woogie bugle boy.
The top man of your craft.
“Stroll” into the New Year and bring along your draft.
Let’s “tap” into the Bossa Nova.
Rock and Roll and “all that jazz.”
Bunny hop and two step.
Swing dance with great pizzazz.
Step one, dance two.
Shouts The Chorus from the line.
Fine tune an Arabesque, stay on Pointe and redefine.
Add elbow grease to team effort.
Realign your goals in mind.
Offer a leg up, if anyone falls behind.
So as you chasse across the finish line.
Or Fred Astaire across the ceiling.
We will welcome in this brand new year.
Position one as we are kneeling.
Hit it Elton.
“So goodbye yellow brick road.
Where the dogs of society howl.
You can’t plant me in your penthouse.
I’m going back to my plough.”
And to all a Good Night!

                   ATE
Sometimes all it takes is 20 minutes of insane courage for something great to happen.
The 8 ball- eight card fit-eight hands playing at two tables – 8 is enough- Dinner at 8. 18 is chai – . Eight heart stealing Gomberg kid’s.

One thing the number 8 symbolizes is the ability to make decisions. With a legacy of parents who got a babysitter and then drove around trying to decide where to go and what to do, we have taken our primordial history and flipped it. Date book in hand, organize the games, get the tickets. Don’t let history repeat itself. Be decisive right or wrong. Make a decision. The road of life is paved with flat squirrels who couldn’t make decisions-end quote- 😎

The Pythagoreans called the number eight “Ogdoad” and considered it the “little holy number”. Number 8 – make it a Gr8 Friday.

Calling all first time nine hole-rs.

You’re only as good as your last shot. 

Is it just the positioning-or the synergy between you and the club. 

Or all of the above- or not?

Forget about precision.

Focus on one thing at a time.

  Just go out there have fun, you

   will do just fine.

“The time has come 

The Walrus said.

To talk of many things.” Of shoes — and ships — and sealing-wax—

Is it your eye on the ball, or the follow through, or simply the strength of your swing? 

The further you hit the ball.

The more you’ll double down. 

Outdoors and 9 holes breezy.

Or 18 as in chai.

Plant your feet on the course, hit a putt in just two.

Count blessings you’re out there learning something brand new. Phew!

We’ll Drink a Cup of Kindness yet.

For the Sake of Auld Lang Syne.

2025 let’s see what’s waiting at the door.

Signing off on 24,’

 and all that came before.

We’ll bring along our mojo.

Add an extra step to our beat.

Let’s try a new approach.

Pulling back on our bittersweet’s.

The unknowns are the challenges.

So far from our control.

We are ready, willing and able.

To the sound of the drum roll.

Creating a new template,

To diminish woes and strife.

The ultimate of goals.

To maintain a meaningful life.

We’ll add some new faces.

Replace the naysayers of joy.

Let’s welcome 2025

Hear, Hear the Real McCoy.

A you’re Adorable, B you’re so Beautiful.

Somedays a song enters our mind and we skip along -dot, dot, dot. 

“If they could see us now, that little gang of ours.”

Cause it’s a long, long way from May to December and I don’t want to walk without you Baby. Walk without my arm about you Baby.

I have often walked down the street before. But the pavement always stayed beneath my feet before. All at once am I-  speaking of my Sweetie Pie only 60 inches high. Every inch is packed with Dynamite. That’s my little Honey Bun. Get a load of Honey Bun tonight.

10 cents a Dance. That’s what they pay me. Gosh how they weigh me down. 

Cause oh how we danced on the night we were wed. We vowed our true love, though a word wasn’t said. The world was in bloom, there were stars in the skies. Except for the few that were there in your eyes… This put us sitting on top of the world, rolling along, yes rolling along. 

Maybe I didn’t love you.
Quite as often as I could have.
Maybe I didn’t treat you.
Quite as good as I could have.
But you were always on my mind. Always on my mind.

Hit it.
One Day you’ll look to see I’ve gone. For tomorrow may rain and I’ll follow the Sun. “You might just make it after all.”

Have a lyrical kind of Saturday with a Fringe on the top. Mic Drop.

What happens when corned beef and pastrami meet on the corner of Potato Knish and Dr. Brown’s Soda? They bump into the Salami on rye with deli mustard sandwich and all get ready to watch as Mr. Ed whispers to Ozzie and Harriet a cute story about (who remembers their neighbor Thorny- Played by Don Defore? Yup! Run on sentence.

They are meeting over at Donna Reed’s house to watch the Beaver and his brother Wally take on Ken Osmond a.k.a. Eddie Haskell in a game of H-O- R- S-E, in their driveway.

After a pot luck dinner with bread pudding for dessert they sit around the piano and sing out loud with My Little Margie, Aunt Bee who got a ride over with Barney and was escorted by Opie. Oh “kay” then. They take out the game of Clue and wait for That Girl ( Marlo Thomas) to be Bewitched by (Elizabeth Montgomery) all the while Ann Sothern, who came with Don Porter is taking the minutes of the day.

In prances Eddie Albert with the fur clad, diamond bearing Eva Gabor from their Green Acres via Park Avenue Pad. And- a good time was had by all.

They also played monopoly trying to remain financially solvent while forcing their opponents into bankruptcy. So who let the dogs out?

The surprise guest was Jim Backus. He came in and announced “I Married Joan,” and they all agreed that everyone Loved Lucy.

The category is Sitcoms in the Sixites. We’ll take our fav Columbo for $1000.00. Please. And I quote – “Just one more thing. There’s something that bothers me. One more question. My wife. What did you pay for those Manolo Blahniks?

Make it a “Sunday in the Park” kinda day!