Happy New Year!

The call came this morning from my longtime pal John Lotz. He is retired and living the good life in Florida these days, but once upon a time we raised a little hell while toiling in the radio biz in Tampa. I love the guy. He has always been like a big brother to me--a wild and crazy big brother, but a guy I always respected and admired.

John had a stroke last year and is now, at 77, in an assisted living facility. His two wonderful daughters insisted on this since John no longer has his wife, Barbara to make sure he takes care of himself. Barbara died the year before last and he misses her like a limb. They were a perfect team.

John sounds just like he did almost forty years ago. The years betray no "old guy" lack of energy in his voice. It's as if we were just picking up a conversation we started last week on the golf course. The only difference is that I no longer frustrate myself with that "good walk spoiled" and he now plays with a two handicap. He was always a marvel on the course.

As we wrapped up our annual catch up phone call, I promised John that 2010 will be the year that Linda and I make a visit to Orlando. She loves him too.

Good friends are like jewels. Treasure them and keep them close.
They'll keep you vertical in 2010.


As Art Buchwald once opined, "Whether it's the best of times or the worst of times, it's the only time we have."

Happy New year to you all!
And, may Dick Clark continue to be in Times Square for as long as it makes him happy.

The most powerful thing we have is the power of choice. Chose to be vertical in 2010.

Hey Fatso....What Do You Want For Christmas??

Well, not another five pounds. That's for sure!

What is it about the holidays that makes you say, "Screw it. I'm having another piece of that delicious blubber inducing calorie bomb, thank you very much."
Maybe it's the chilly air and the lack of sunshine? (Can't use that one in Southern California.)
Or, how about this one? When you're a kid you can look forward to a toy or maybe a new bike, but as an adult that part of the old Christmas magic is gone; so you smother your disappointment in chocolate fudge and baked brie pastry puffs. (Chocolate fudge=230 calories per 2 inch square and baked brie pastry puff=420 calories for a 3 ounce serving.)

The reason I know the caloric values of these two slices of food heaven is from my recent discovery of the Nutristrategy.com website. Nutristrategy shows you just how much exercise is needed to burn off various holiday goodies and, frankly, it's depressing.


The only good news I could find was very revealing to me. Nutristrategy
shows that if you like champagne you're well on your way to winning the Christmas waistline sweepstakes. Ten minutes of swimming will burn off 4 ounces of champagne for you. But, as I can attest from my days of dancing with alcohol molecules, if you have several more servings of bubbly you will be too hammered to eat anything and will have passed out and negated the necessity of doing any duty in the pool. In other words, staying sloshed can keep you happy and in your slimjim jeans for the foreseeable future.

That's it for the good news.

Baked ham, just 4 crummy ounces, will take you 30 minutes of gardening to get rid of. (Think massive glasses of champagne and simply passing out in the garden.) A measly 2 inch square of chocolate-covered toffee means you owe your gut a whopping 30 minutes of flag football with the relatives. "Oh God, why have you forsaken me??!!"

Pecan pie, just a sliver, requires 40 minutes of running at 6 miles per hour.

Sonofabitch! Pass me a heart attack instead.



Nuts, eggnog, sugar cookies and all the usual suspects are equally devastating to the adult waist unless you are willing to pay the price of excruciating boredom at the gym.



So, go ahead and slip me ALL the good stuff. Kids shouldn't be the only ones who have fun at Christmas.

I'll meet you in the fatboy department at Kohl's or Nordstrom's and we can lie to each other about how soon we'll be back into those old "high school days" sizes before spring training starts.



One small caveat to keep in mind.
Stay away from the fruitcake at all times.








Many years ago a young satyr ate some and turned into a representative from the state of Massachusetts.

Seems Like Only Yesterday

It's always easy for me to remember.

I didn't plan it , but the shortest day of the year is more than slightly significant to me.

December 21, 1999 I received a call that changed everything. It was my doctor telling me that it was way past time for me to leave the party I had been attending for the past thirty years.

"Mr. Copper you need to stop drinking NOW."

To give you an idea of how far down the road I was, my response was: "Oh, okay...just beer and wine right?"

"NO!", the doctor suggested. "You need to quit drinking altogether."

Everyone acts as if his or her life is unique. As we get older we find that our lives are sort of generic and that many others have been provided one of the same handful of story lines available to all humans. Yes sir, lots of company on the old "nothing exceeds like excess" train. I'm just happy to be counted among the number who "passed the bar".

Often I think of what I might have accomplished if I had spent more time working on my career and personal relationships instead of squandering hours in saloons with other dipsomaniacs. I did hear some pretty good jokes and managed to participate in some outrageous adventures that will provide entertaining stories for years to come, but nothing more. Like Gertrude Stein said of Oakland, "There is no there...there." (Having worked in Oakland, I can vouch for that fine analogy.)

But, no regrets. I am thrilled to have had the past ten years and to have made some amends. My wife is still with me; the kids have done well and now I have a fine new grandson to play with. (There should be at least a five year window before he outgrows me.) The world is spinning in greased grooves, thank you very much.

And, that's just fine with me.

Ten years.

"It seems like only yesterday

I gazed through the glass

At ramblers, wild gamblers

That's all in the past" ---Steely Dan "Deacon Blues"

Creepy Claus

Have you ever asked yourself why we allow our children and grandchildren to spend time with really creepy old guys this time of year?
Be honest! Would you let your kid sit on any of these laps in January or February???

Attention kiddies!!!!

The next time one of these clowns asks you what you want for Christmas ask to borrow mommy or daddy's cell phone....and CALL THE COPS!

Just another public service announcement from lovable old Mr. Copper's website. (Pay no attention to the creepy old guy behind the curtain typing this blog.)

Room Warming in Gropenhagen

The UN sure knows how to summit.
In just a few days the United Nations climate summit gets underway in Copenhagen and the delegates are in for a warm reception from the local prostitutes.
It seems that Copenhagen Mayor Ritt Bjerregaard, (way cool name), sent postcards to city hotels warning summit guests not to patronize Danish "sex workers" during their conference. The ladies are not pleased.

The hookers union--yep, have one--has decided to offer FREE sex to anyone who produces one of the postcards sent to city hotels warning guests to beware of strange women offering their own special "welcome wagon".

The Sex Workers Interest Group, (Copenhagen local), may actually be doing more for the "we're all going to melt" global warming pantywaists than any of the pathetic poindexter ideas the UN is currently attempting to foist on the rest of us.
No doubt delegates taking advantage of the free horizontal mambo lessons being offered by these patriotic Danes will not once find it necessary to turn up their room thermostat during their stay. I see real progress being made here.

Go S.W.I.G.! And, all delegates make sure to "look for the union label".

In the meantime, I will continue to suffer here in San Diego. Even though the temperature dipped into the upper 50's last night, I will refrain from calling in a team of hookers. (My wife kind of frowns on that.) However, I will continue to throw a butt load of logs on the fires that burn in my fireplace most every night.

I try to resist everything.....except temptation.
Screw you Al Gore!