By Philip Drucker
Today marks a dual milestone in my now not so recent decision to commit my thoughts to paper, or at least electronic particles aligned into patterns identifiable by the average human optical system as some sort of effort however crude at communication. For this my friends, is my 100th Blog post since I began in earnest and from my cancer bed at that to help document and perhaps shed some light and understanding on whatever it was about the evil in men’s hearts that the Shadow knew.
That and seeking out new life forms, cancer cells and MAGAs for the most part, and tepidly going where I’d like to say no one has gone before, but that would be stretching it a bit thin to say the least and you all know that’s not my style, at all. So, let’s just stick with when I got something to say, I say it. No quarter asked and none given. Although, if you do want to buy me a coffee from time to time that would be perfectly acceptable. That’s me in a nutshell. A goober who will work for coffee, and chocolate got to have some chocolate and maybe some French fries cooked in truffle oil every so often.
For those of you unfamiliar with my past, after finding out I had a bad case of colon cancer and seeing how I was bedridden and had a little time on my hands, and maybe a little time left on my expiration date, I started to post let’s call it political commentary, first on Facebook, then on several other social media platforms until I finally caved and started my own website I so creatively named “The Drucker Report”. One of the features of the DruckerReport.com was a blog named The Weathervane, as in you might need a weather vane to know which way the wind blows. Bob Dylan? “Subterranean Homesick Blues”? No? Well, it seemed clever at the time.
Not quite sure why, but at some point, the “you’re so weather vain/clouds in my covfefe” (yes, I thought that was witty too) classic rock/political jabs at satire blog changed into a series of subscription newsletters via email called “Communiqué” with the tag line “If you have to ask, you don’t need to know.” I still don’t know what that means, but it sounded good so I kept it. Shortly thereafter, and much to my surprise, the Communiqués found a following within the I hate Trump and am in no way shy or apologetic about it community know to those who are known as the Resistance.
Today, the DruckerReport.com and Communiqués still honors their founding classic rock/politically active roots by advertising itself as “A Yardstick for Lunatics, One Point of View”, which is a line from The Strawberry Alarm Clock’s (a band once banned from my childhood home as they were clearly into drugs) “Incense & Peppermints”.
“Who cares what games we choose, little to win and nothing to lose.” Classic I tell you, just classic.
Somewhere along the line I also started writing a column for the Los Angeles Free Press, a newspaper that originally started in the 1960s and was banned from my childhood home because, you guessed it, it was filled with bell bottomed, long haired, question authority, hippy dippy ideology and we all know that all long-haired Joni Mitchell, John Fogerty and gasp! Frank Zappa types all of whom were clearly advocating for the use of drugs. That and the FREEP featured lots of naughty advertisements for shall we say, the monetization of free love? Stinky hippies. It was a good thing we had Nixon to protect us from all that potential corruption of our mind and spirit going around back then. Or, at least so said my father on a near daily basis. My mom wasn’t so sure. She liked wearing mini-skirts and leather boots and was an admitted Nancy Sinatra fan.
My weekly column, eventually called Phil Drucker Rants ran for two years until I was boy interrupted by my second go ‘round with cancer and forced to reduce my participation to guest author with an article or two coming out, well, whenever it comes out.
Along this roadhouse sideshow, a scratch, unedited version of a book I had written about mostly the above, that and watching the Republicans try to take away my healthcare and kill me, thank you John McCain, where ever you are as our nation turns its lonely eyes to you, woo-woo-woo, was released on a limited basis and real cheap as a kind of teaser check out the column which leads me to milestone number two.
The book, “Phil Drucker Rants, A Resister’s Diary of Redemption or How I Survived Cancer and The Destruction of Democracy, Volume I” is for the first time, properly edited and formatted via Amazon in both hard copy and kindle versions for those of you who can’t decide on paper or pixels, so to speak.
Kindle eBook
Paperback
It is also available through the links posted on DruckerReport.com under you guessed it, hallucinogenic drugs, or is it links? You might have to check that one out for yourself, damn hippies. I wonder if my parents would have banned the DruckerReport.com from my childhood home. If they could ban the Beatles for 14 years, anything is possible.
And so, as we near my magical 1000 words or bust self-imposed but usually ignored limit, I would like to thank those of you who have been here since the beginning. You have no idea how much I appreciate your comments and support (emails are welcome via philipdrucker@gmail.com. Cancer is a harsh mistress to say the least and your thoughts, prayers, healing light and caring words are comforting to say the least.
My heartfelt thanks to all of you who have joined me on this part of the journey and to those of you I have yet to meet, feel free to buy the ticket, lick it, and take the ride. Or something like that. Sha-La-La, (at 2:25) for now, over and drop out. - PD 10/9/2020
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