Today we’re going to cover a lot of ground, so fasten your seat belts.
1. We’ll start off with a description of “The Toughest Job in the World” and see a video of some of the 27 people crazy enough to apply for it. I’m warning you, this job is a real Mother!

2. Then, there’s a tribute to my Mom who I imagine is reading 10 Minutes of Brilliance in Heaven. I doubt she is in Hell or Pittsburgh, because she led a good life and was never very fond of either of those places.

3. Next is a piece about having a second Mother’s Day every year. I swear it’s not a Hallmark Card conspiracy. Some people think that might be a good idea, but I’m sure Jewish mothers would say, “What? You don’t love me the other 363 days?”

4. Then, there’s a piece about my hometown, Ballmer, Merlin (aka Baltimore, Maryland). People from Baltimore called themselves “BaltiMORONS!” That’s either just plain stupid or quite possibly “truth in packaging.”

5. Next, take a short 10 Minutes of Brilliance True or False Pop Quiz.

6. And finally, there are some wonderful ironic photos I thought you’d enjoy courtesy of my friend and former college roommate, Tony W. (Tony asked me not to use his entire name, so I said, “Tony Witlin, if that’s what you want, you’ve got it.) Tony found them online so I don’t know who to attribute them to.

EXCUSE ME FOR A MINUTE. I HAVE TO TAKE CARE OF SOMETHING: Hey, Micheal Y from Buffalo Grove. Would you please take care of the copy at the end of the blog in the yellow box that says we have 11,000 subscribers? We have over 20,000 now. I don’t remember how to correct that. Thanks)

We’ve got a lot to read today, so let’s get started.

The Toughest Job In The World Is A Real Mother!

A few years ago a Boston newspaper ran an ad for “The Toughest Job in the World.” Over 2 1/2 million people saw the ad in a newspaper or online. Guess how many people applied for it? Only 27 people applied. And job were scarce back then. No wonder. It wasn’t the title that scared away 99.999% of the applicants. The requirements were a real killer.

Here are the some of the job requirements for an admittedly tough and possibly impossible job you might never want to apply for:

Requirements for the Toughest Job in the World

  • Must be able to work 135+ hours a week, no breaks
  • Ph. D. in psychology or real-life equivalent
  • Crisis management skills a must
  • Proficiency handling sticky situations (literally and figuratively)
  • Ability to work with associates with minimal ability
  • Demonstrated knowledge and experience in negotiating, counseling and culinary arts
  • Unlimited patience
  • Understanding of medicine, finance, social media and video games
  • Valid driver’s license, CPR certification and Red Cross membership
  • Positive disposition at all times

And if that weren’t enough to scare you away, The Toughest Job in the World doesn’t even pay a salary. Nada. Nothing! Although three meals a day are included (as long as YOU cook them.)

If you haven’t guessed it yet, The Toughest Job in the World is a real Mother. No really, it’s being a real mother, a job so tough, only women can handle it. Here’s some footage from some people who applied for The Toughest Job in the World.


Moms are the unsung heroes of the Real World. A smart and caring friend of mine, Mia Redrick, one of the premier “Mom coaches” in the country, runs an organization called  Time For Mom-Me, that empowers moms in every aspect of motherhood, including the often neglected facet of looking out for themselves. Mia’s advice is buried treasure that can add so much to handling the toughest and most important job in the world.

If you’re a Mom with young children or you know someone who, check out this valuable resource.

And if I forgot to mention it later, Happy Mother’s Day to Moms, America’s most valuable natural resource!

A Tribute to My Mom Who Had Three Wonderful Children. And me

Last year, I ran my Mother’s Day blog TWO WEEKS after Mother’s Day. Boy, was my Mom pissed.! But true to the spirit of my Mom, at least she apologized for my tardiness.


Mom always did have a great sense of humor. Here’s a picture of my Mom with one of the part-time employees from my Dad’s department store.

My Mom and Santa Claus. Oh, my Mom is the one on the left.

I owe my Mom a lot. She gave me a sense of wonderment and curiosity about the world, a love of learning, and a responsibility to stand up for what’s right.  But most of all she gave me her sense of humor.

We still have regular conversations, although they’re somewhat one-sided now. I still don’t win them, but then that is fate of men (sons, husbands and significant others), now isn’t it”

My Mom lived to be 93 and for most of those years she was full of life. She got her Masters degree when she was in her late 70s. In a wheel chair. I can’t imagine anything that would have stopped her from doing anything she wanted to do. It drove my Dad crazy.

STAN: Is Goldberg going to go on and on about his mother?
HARRIET: Well, it is a blog about Mother’s Day.
STAN: Well, I’m sick and tired of hearing all this cr*p about Mothers. Hey, did you see that? I tried to say the word cr*p, dam* it, Goldberger bleeped it out! He really s**ks.
HARRIET: Well, this is a family blog, Stan. And besides Stan, your imaginary. Jack writes everything you say. Now, let Jack finish.

Where was I? Oh yeah, once when my sister Rainy was around 2 1/2 or 3, she caught her led in the slats of her crib and started screaming, ” Mom, Help me! Mom, please!

My mother came running in and Rainy said, “Help! Get me outta here. My leg’s caught in the crib.”

“OK, Lorraine, stay calm. I’ll be right back. Now don’t go anywhere!”

My Mom came back in with our gardner, Joe. Joe had a big saw in his hand. It was even BIGGER if you were a little kid with your leg stuck in a crib!

My sister screamed, ” Mom, no, you’re not going to cut my leg off, are you?

“Well, you don’t think I’m going to ruin a perfectly good crib, do you?,” my Mom deadpanned.

Yes, she was always a bit of a rascal. Now you know where I get it from.

She wasn’t  a trouble maker, mind you, but someone who didn’t mind giving the world a little “oudgie” every chance she got.

Here another story about my funny and fearless Mom.

Ever since I can remember, my Mom didn’t get along with her youngest brother, my Uncle Donald. She wasn’t hostile or mean to him, bshe thought her brother was lazy and stupid and had no problem letting him and the world know it.

After my Mom graduated college (at 18), she became a substitute teacher. One day she had to substitute for a geography class my Uncle Donald was in. (Would someone please explain to my young Readers what Geography is?)

My called on Donald throughout the class, embarrassing him again and again because he hadn’t studied or done his homework (ever).

After class, my Mom wrote a note, sealed it in an envelope and told Donald to take it home to “his” Mother. If you’re following this story carefully, you’ll note my Mom and my Uncle Donald had the same mother, aka my grandmother.

Donald gave the note to his Mother, she read it and was steaming mad. There was no signature on the note, so my grandma demanded to go with Donald to school the next day to tell Donald’s teacher a thing or three. When she got to Donald’s class the next day, My Mom was still the substitute teacher.

My grandmother saw her daughter was standing at the front of the class “Bernice, you didn’t write this note, did you?”

“What does it say?” my Mom asked.

“It says: “Congratulations! Your child is the dumbest person on the planet.‘”

“Why,” Mom said, “Do you have any more children you think would qualify?”

STAN: OK, not a bad story. But I don’t know why everyone makes such a big deal about Mother’s Day?
HARRIET: Don’t you remember good things about your Mom?
HARRIET: What? What did you say?
HARRIET: You didn’t have a mother, Stan? Of course not. That’s what I’ve been telling you. You’re not real, San. You’re just something Jack dreamt up to make the blog more interesting.


STAN: That’s it, Harriet! I’m outta here! I QUIT! I want off the blog. It’s obvious I’m not important to anyone here.
HARRIET: No, Stan, no. You’ve got it all wrong. You’re very important to Jack. He never writes a blog without you. To Jack, you’re practically his leading man. His hero. In fact, Stan, Jack thinks “You’re the Tops.

WITH THAT COMMENT, HARRIET BREAKS INTO SONG, SINGING COLE PORTER’S YOU’RE THE TOPS (Bloomers, go ahead, sing a few bars to yourself, then read on. Young Readers ad Millennials, text someone until the singing is over.

What? Celebrate Another Mother’s Day. It must be a Hallmark plot!

When I first heard about ANOTHER MOTHER’S DAY, I was pretty sure it was just a plot by Hallmark Cards to get us to spend another $18.6 billion dollars celebrating Mom. But was a brilliant idea. Sadly in ended a few years ago. Still it’s worth revisiting. Maybe one of my Readers will bring it back.

Another Mother’s Day was a not-for-profit organization that encouraged people to honor a Mother other than their real Mother. At their site, they tell stories of how some mothers spend their entire existence just putting food on their table (Mothers in Darfur don’t even have a table!)

Darfuri women spend the greater part of their existence trying to feed their families.

In the largely barren land of Darfur, women must walk up to seven hours a day, three to five times a week, just to find a single tree with usable firewood.

They spend more than a thousand hours just to keep their family warm. Outside the relative safety of the displacement camps, they are vulnerable to acts of violence and sexual assault. Young girls are kidnapped and sold into slavery.

The danger is so great that, in order to avoid leaving the camp, many women pay for fuel by selling some of very food they hoped to cook.

Another Mother’s Day was a great idea that didn’t survive our world’s own self-interest. Mother helping another Mother who had so little. Maybe someone will bring it back.

HARRIET: Wasn’t that a touching story, Stan? You know, a mother’s love for her children is the strongest force in the Universe. It’s stronger than Hate, Greed or Power or the stupidity, narcissism and arrogance of Donald Trump!
STAN: I guess so. But I still don’t see how it relates to me. I’ve never even had a Mother.
HARRIET: Well, you might one day, you never know. Maybe Jack will write your Mother into the blog.
STAN: Never happen, Harriet. Never in a million years.


My Mom around 1950, with my sisters Rainy and Barbara, some Eddie Haskel-type neighborhood kid and why, yes, that little blogger in the baby carriage is me.

My Mom, the Roller Blader. She wasn’t really Roller Blading. My sister was at a park and saw my Mom near a Roller Blade outfit. It didn’t take much to convince my Mom to put it on.

One more funny Mom story. Well, funny to everyone except the new relatives who were shocked!

My oldest sister, JoAnn, had an engagement party in New York at my brother-in-law-to be’s apartment. Both families were equally represented and it was the first time anyone other than my sister and my soon-to-be brother-in-law ever had both families in the same room.. Throughout diner, my sister’s in-laws bragged about this book and that book..And this author and that author. This went on all evening, hardly giving anyone else a chance to talk. They were show-offs from NY talking down to the rubes from Baltimore.

My Mom was an avid reader, but didn’t feel she had to brag about it. Finally, during dessert, my Mom had a chance to speak. Rosalie, my brother-in-law to be’s mother asked my Mom, “Do you like to read?”

“No, Rosalie,” my Mom answered, “we don’t really read books in Baltimore. But we sure like to f*ck.”

Of course, my Mom, forgetting her manners for a moment, didn’t use any asterisks to express how she was feeling. My Mom was quite a character.

SFX: Knock. Knock.
STAN: I didn’t know blogs have doors!
HARRIET: Shut up, Stan, give Jack some creative license, please. Well, aren’t you going to get it?
SFX: Sound of a door opening
STAN: Yes, how can I help you?
STAN: Yes?


STAN’S MOM: Don’t you recognize me?
STAN: Should I?
STAN’S MOM: Stan, I’m your Mother.
STAN: Right! Look lady, I don’t have a Mother.
STAN’S MOM: You do now! Jack just wrote me into the blog.


STAN: Are, are you sure you’re my Mom? My real Mom?
STAN’S MOM: Of course, Stan, I ought to know my own son, shouldn’t I?
STAN: B-but, how are you so sure?
STAN’S MOM: Your favorite food is crepes. You hate asparagus. And the only time you drink beer is when you’re having hard shell Maryland crabs.
STAN: Hard shell crabs?
STAN’S MOM: Yes, with Old Bay.
STAN: How do you know all that?
STAN’S MOM: I’m your Mother, Stan. Of course, I know. Look, if you don’t believe me, just look over here to the right.

STAN: It’s true! You are my Mom! God, this is the happiest day in my blog life.
STAN’S MOM: Hey, Stan, how come you didn’t send me a Mother’s Day card? No card. No gift. No phone call. And when was the last time you cleaned up your room, Little Stanly? Or took a bath? Or ate your broccoli? Or visited your grandmother?

STAN: Listen to her. She’s only been my Mom for five minutes, and she’s already driving me crazy.
STAN’S MOM: I love you Stan.
STAN: I love you too….Mom!

Baltimore, Home Sweet Home. Sorta.

I have a “Love/Hate relationship” with Baltimore, my home town. Well, maybe it’s more of a “Love/Embarrassed By relationship.” On the one hand, I love my family and friends, that’s what makes Baltimore great for me. I also love the Os (Baltimore Orioles), the Ravens, Edgar Allen Poe, Cal Ripken, Brooks Robinson, Johnny Unitas, Edmart Deli, Linwoods and, of course, the Baltimore Colts. They’re stiul there, right?

edgar Allen Poe

Edgar Allen Poe supposedly returns to Baltimore every year on the anniversary of the Raven’s first championship

Cal Ripken, Jr.

Cal Ripken, Jr, a k a, the Iron Man


Brooks Robinson, like Cal Ripken, Jr, Brooks waqs classy on tyhe field or off

Third Baseman Brooks Robinson, like Cal Ripken, Jr, was classy on and off the field.








EdMart Deli

EdMart Deli, the best place on the Planet for lean corned beef on rye with cole slaw and Russian dressing or for you traditionalists, on rye with mustard.

But then there is the downside to hailing from Baltimore. People from Baltimore have the absolute worst name for people from Baltimore.

They’re called Baltimorons. Morons? What a moronic thing to call people. When I was young, all I knew about a moron was the joke, ” Why did the moron throw the clock out the window?” “Because he wanted to see time fly.”

It wasn’t long before I realized that a moron was somebody who was really STUPID! Someone who couldn’t figure anything out. “Back the, using the term “moron” was even even worse than what people used to call the mentally ill. “Retarded.”

I apologize for using the word “Retarded” here. But hey, I am from Baltimore.

Then there’s the fact that Baltimore is South of the Mason Dixon line. (That’s right, y’all, the South). Oh, Bmore (Baltimore’s nickname) may not be Deep in the Heart of Dixie South, but as late as the 1957, there were signs on public drinking fountains in Baltimore that said, “For Whites Only” and “For Colored People.” I apologize for using the term “colored people,” but hey, I am from Baltimore.

Then there’s the way people from Bawlmer talk. You know how people from England (or even Great Britain) sound so intelligent because of the way they talk. It seems so refined, doesn’t it? Well, Baltimorons sound like doofusses (a k a real jerks) because of the way they talk. They slur their words and sound unintelligent. In “Bawlmer,” they mow a lawn with a “Pauer moor,” and when they’re in trouble they call the “Poe-lease.”

My least favorite pronunciation, which you can still hear all over Bawlmer, is “Libary.” As in, they keep books in a libary.”

Libary? Libary? It’s really embarrassing to mispronounce the place where books were housed before everything went electronic.

It’s even more ironic when you know the slogan BaltiMORONS coined for their (my) hometown. Bawlmer: “The City that Reads.”

That morphed into an unofficial title, “The City that Bleeds” since Baltimore has one of the highest murder rates in the country.

It also picked up the moniker, “The City that Breeds” when teenage pregnancy rates skyrocketed.

Don’t even ask me about how they go bowling in Bmore. No, really, don’t even ask! (Apparently, they don’t even use bowling pins. They just line use 10 live ducks.)

Of course, back on the plus side, a lot of great TV productions are shot there. Like The Wire, Homicide and Norman Lear’s show, Hot l Baltimore, so named because the “e” in the word Hotel burned out on its neon sign.

But what brought all this about Bawlmer to mind was a recent NY Times mention of a less than popular TV show entitled, “The Psychotic.” Here’s the brief review from the Times on that show:

“The Psychotic.” A Danish Mass murderer is hired by a Swedish mass murderer to find out who killed his mom, who was half-Norwegian, and may have been a mass murderer herself. (And then the kicker!) It is set in Baltimore, as these things usually are.”

Buy hey, who am I to pick on Baltimore. I live in New Jersey.

New Jersey? Home of mobsters, Snookie and that big bully, Chris Christie.

New Jersey? Don’t get me started.

Next, Brilliant Readers, A True or False Pop Quiz

All right, Brilliant Readers, it’s time for a Pop Quiz. No need to take out a pencil and paper. You can do this one in your head.

1. True or False: The microwave was invented when a researcher walked by a radar tube and his ice cream melted.

ANSWER: False. The microwave was invented when a researcher walked by a radar tube and his chocolate bar melted. Really!

2. True or False: The winter of ’32 was so cold, Niagra Falls completely froze over.


3. True or False: Winston Churchill was born in a ladies room during a dance?
ANSWER: Sorry, Winnie, it’s True.

4. True or False: Leonardo da Vinci invented a primitive hair dryer.

ANSWER: False: But Leonardo did invent scissors.

5 Times the Irony

I stumbled upon some photos on the web that were so ironic, we gave our Caption Editor the afternoon off. That’s ironic in itself, since we don’t have one.

nothing written in stone

OK, some things are written in stone.


Not sure this would be the guy to trust to learn English.

psychicI guess he should have predicted that, right?


Carbon foot print books

Well, they did say it was for idiots?

Hey, I is no English major, but something's wrong here.

Hey, I is no English major, but something’s wrong here.

It’s come to our attention that some of our Readers, while Brilliant, sometimes read 10 Minutes of Brilliance while they’re drunk, inebriated, blotto, you get the idea, so we’re offering this easy-to-fill-out Sobriety Test.

10247506_276566222518321_3637967714339812067_nHope you passed it instead of out.

OK, Goys and Birls, that’s it for today. Thanks for stopping by and for staying til the end. It’s because of Brilliant Readers like you that we now have over 20,000 subscribers. Stay tuned for a very special blog, soon. The next time I get another Brilliant Idea!


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