I'm getting subtle pressure from certain readers to elevate the level of  my blog discourse, so today -- with President Obama heading to the Middle East -- here's my Fix-it plan for that troubled corner of the world.

As Obama suggests, Israel's borders should be returned to pre-1967. What is currently the West Bank should become a New Palestinian State. Then the following sequence should occur:

Immediately after the New Palestinian State declares statehood, it’s enemies, including Israel and the United States, should mass on its borders, declare the Western versin of Jihad and enforce a no-fly zone. Our mandate should be to drive all inhabitants of the new nation into the sea. Great Britain, which is good at these things, should enforce a blockade so the criminal state cannot get weapons or additional people to defend itself. If possible, we should attempt to round up the rogue nation's leaders and haul them before the International Criminal Court.

 If the new nation, by dint of its guile and courage, miraculously survives, it should apply for membership in the United Nations. The application should be rejected because the New Palestinian State is a threat to global stability. Once the New Palestinian State has signed an armistice with us and our allies, it should be allowed to join the UN, but the vote should be deeply divided. As sworn enemies of the new state, we should vote against its admission to the community of civilized nations.

 From this point onward the New Palestinian State should develop a close, collaborative relationship with a major nuclear power. Pakistan is a logical candidate.  With the nurturing assistance of Pakistan, the New Palestinian State can evolve into a nuclear power in its own right, thus lending an aura of  Apocalyptic portent to an already volatile region.

Roughly twenty years after our initial invasion of the New Palestinian State, the US and its allies should again mass menacingly on the country’s borders. Our warships in the Persian Gulf and bases in Iraq can help ratchet up the threat. Our goal should be to place the New Palestinian State in abject fear for its survival. If everything goes as planned, the new Palestinian State will do the right thing, give up and cease to exist. If it does not and instead launches a successful preemptive attack that results in territorial gains that make it even harder to be invaded, we must take strong action.  We should condemn the New Palestinian State as a criminal occupier and insist that the borders be returned to how they looked when the New Palestinian State was nearly destroyed at its birth.

Only when the New Palestinian State agrees to these simple, humane measures will we have lasting peace in the Middle East.

Northern Exposure

Everyone tried to be so grown-up and artsy about it, but now that The Covey  Theatre Company’s production has wrapped up its Syracuse run of “The Graduate,” can we dispense with burying the lead?

MOE HARRINGTON WAS NUDE ON STAGE!!!!

.

RIGHT HERE IN SYRACUSE, N.Y.

FOR, LIKE, A WHOLE MINUTE OR SOMETHING.

AND I SAW IT!!!!

photo courtesy of www.ameliabeamish.com

The first lady of Central New York theater, playing the iconic role of Mrs. Robinson, took it all off in a poignant, discretely lit scene. In doing so she joined an elite group of entertainers who have performed au naturel in local venues that don’t require a two-drink minimum.

“I thought of it as just another costume change -- a very tight costume with a slight breeze,” Moe told KramerPost.

Nine weeks of grueling workouts and eating mainly egg whites and cottage cheese transformed the curvy diva into a cut cougar. From my first-row vantage Saturday at The BeVard Studio , I was mightily impressed. On top of everything, I think there was a play going on.

 The highpoint came when I turned to my wife Leigh to discover that her view of Moe was blocked by another actor, some young guy who was definitely not nude. For reasons I cannot explain, this made me extremely happy.

Moe said afterwards that she felt “supported” by the audience and cast.

“A few middle aged women came up and thanked me for doing it as a show of solidarity for all women.” 

This is, perhaps, progress -- a sign of an  evolving Syracuse primed to doff its cloak of dowdiness and embrace a more open-minded ethos. 

“There were people who didn’t come to the show because of the nudity, and that’s fine,” Moe said. “But at the end of the day you can’t complain about something you’ve never seen, otherwise you’re a Republican.”

Incidentally, Moe will be in my new play, Reaching for Marsby, next March. The current script calls for her to appear fully clothed. In light of recent events, a major rewrite is underway.

Two for the road

Yes, I want to live in an America that harnesses the power of wind and sun, where quality health care is a right, not a luxury and where our children have the tools they need to compete in a global economy. But there's  something else I want. I want a 5-year national  moratorium on "I Gotta Feeling" by the Black Eyed Peas.

I didn't used to hate the song, but I do now.  I heard it the other night -- again -- this time at Venue on N. Salina Street in Syracuse. It was my clue to call it a night. I'm not the only one in revolt. There's a Facebook group R U Sick of that G.D. Black Eyed Peas Song, "I Gotta Feeling."


http://www.facebook.com/group.php?gid=159706445831&v=wall


I'm its newest member.  There are only 12 of us, but we speak for millions -- those who hate "I Gotta Feeling" and those who hate it but just don't realize it yet. If you're a radio deejay, a pre-teen planning a birthday party, the owner of a hip-hop club or anyone else who has the power to shut down this song, please do the right thing. 


Let's do it, let's do it, let's do it, let's do it.


Mazel tov.

And while we're at it, how about a moratorium at all sporting events on that Cha Cha Slide riff "Everybody clap your hands"?


Thank-you.


And God bless America.

The awards lunch that never happened

A last bit of bookkeeping from my previous gig. The column below was scheduled to run in a certain Syracuse daily on April 4.  An editor, or possibly editors, killed it the night before, and no one told me (the writer), leading to my resignation. There were a couple of versions of the column but here's the one that should have -- and could have -- run. 

They’ll be honored at a luncheon for making Central New York a better place. The eight 2011 Post-Standard Achievement Award winners are an impressive bunch. But what about the other end of the spectrum? 

So as not to overlook them, I’m hosting a ceremony, too. The Jeff Kramer Human Train Wreck Awards will be at noon at the DeWitt Arby’s on Erie Boulevard on April 28, the day after the Post-Standard event.  If you’re on the guest list (see below), lunch is on me, provided you show valid photo I.D. (Your own, not someone else’s.) 

Meet the winners:

Moon River

Bar joke -- or disease? 

When my "friend" Charlie Miller took this photo of me last night at
Kelley's Bar and Restaurant on Onondaga Hill, he thought he was being amusing. But for millions of men like me, Posterior Cleavage Exposure Disorder (PCED) is no laughing matter. Afflicted by a long trunk, thick, short legs and no hips, sufferers of PCED constantly contend with shirts that aren't long enough and ill-fitting pants prone to sliding into arears. How you treat the differently waisted says a lot about you. Remember, we're God's children, too.

Most ATM cards accepted.

Into the Blogosphere

This is the initial posting of my new blog, called KramerPost. It has no theme or purporse or art. Presumably all that will come with time. I'll start by posting one of my columns that never ran in the Syracuse Post-Standard because it ran afoul of ... I'm really not sure. Here's the column ... it was supposed to run last August:

Normally I like to keep it light in this space. but now and then a topic pops up of such urgency that the public’s health and safety must take precedence over entertainment. Such is the case today as I’m ethically bound to discuss a life-threatening medical emergency known as canine paraphimosis.

Earlier this month we were on a family vacation in Massachusetts when the smaller of our two shelter dogs, Rondo -- a buff, Chihuhua-like animal -- experienced what veterinary texts describe as the “red rocket” becoming stuck in the” cleared-for-liftoff position.”

To a lesser degree, this is nothing new. During the two years since we adopted Rondo, we’ve learned that the passionate Chihuahua nature isn’t easily tamed, even by neutering. It’s not unusual for us to be watching a ballgame on TV or an episode of Project Runway and look down to see Rondo, all 13-pounds of him, having his way with our larger co-dog, Larry, whose befuddled expression suggests he’s holding a cancelled ticket to see Bret Michaels perform at the Regional Market.

But this time E.T. wouldn’t go home even after several hours. Credit my 10-year-old daughter, Miranda, for realizing that it had gone on long enough.

“Mommy, call the vet,” she said.