This is the last week for the regular school year in these parts. Classroom sessions are down to half days as the kids bring in cupcakes, drinks, and other party snacks to celebrate the end of the school year. This past year has really been an eye opener for me. I really got to see up close and personal the youth of today. From the kindergarten virgins to the cynical and hard core high schoolers who are ready to take on the world to the lost in space college kids wondering what life is really going to throw at them in a few years time.
It has been an informal study. Psyc and Sociology are so long in my past that I can’t remember much of those "head banging"classes or what we were supposed to get out of them. (Something about our mother and breastfeeding and being in bed?) Kids I can say are resilient. They can be the best of friends one minute, mortal enemies the next and best buds by the time they get off the bus. They are remarkable in that they are like soft clay and can be formed and molded into any shape if you let them. Some more willing than others and some seem to cast themselves with the ease of a soft summer breeze.
That’s what I’m talking about, a soft summer breeze. I remember the anticipation of the last weeks of school, almost as they were a couple of years ago. (Yesterday is too soon, the short term memory is the first to go so it’s a few years back.) Wondering if all the slacking off and day dreaming all term was about to come home to roost on the final day of school, when the report cards were handed out. Did I pass? That was the main question. Not how well I did, but did I pass! The last weeks of June in Junior High were glorious and also terrifying at the same time. I remember very clearly sitting in those old classrooms, with the large double hung windows and the up and down window shades, looking out to the grassy lawn between the school and the railroad tracks. Each of those classrooms had a unique smell to them, old chalk and damp paper towels. And if the janitor was going by, pushing his mop and bucket, the smell of pine disinfectant wafted across our desks as an unseen cloud summoning our senses to high alert, much like the fire siren just outside the school, for someone, somewhere, lost their lunch and it was clean up time.
The warm summer breeze would come into the classroom from outside, usually in the afternoon bringing with it the combined smells of the blacktop parking lot, the warm smell of the creosote railroad ties and at least once a week the smell of fresh cut grass and wild onions as the janitor would drive the tractor around the school grounds. The Janitor, for those who don't remember was of German descent. His name was Carl, I believe, but we called him Adolph behind his back. World War Two was over not quite twenty years while I strolled the hallowed halls of Oak Street Jr. High. Speculation ran wild about Carl's exploits during the war. We never even knew when he came from Germany. But to see him mount that tractor and engage his trusty rotating reel mower apparatus, it was almost if you could see, just squinting your eyes a little, that he was a member of Rommel's lost Afrika Korps headed into oblivion in the vast deserts of North Africa taking on the enemy of crabgrass and dandelions.
As those last weeks seemed to drag by, as we waited for the inevitable, I would keep time by the trains passing by outside the windows. The faded olive drab Pullman Green on those well worn trains with their fold over wicker seats would rattle by every half hour going either to Gladstone or Hoboken. I had the schedules memorized and would often slip away during the summer, at the first opportunity, to ride the rails to watch the World Trade Centers being erected or the quiet calm of the Millington Gorge and its trestle.
Finally that day would come and school would be out. With the dreaded report card in hand, and the next year's class assignment, we were sent into the world for ten weeks of bliss! As we would be exiting the classroom, for the summer, I can still remember Mr. Houtz, or Mr. Pataki, placing a comforting hand on my shoulder and a wink, relieving me of the total terror I was feeling regarding the report card. I knew it wasn't as bad as I had envisioned. Bad enough to hear the same old lectures about not doing enough in school but after a while it became an acceptable risk for the start of summer.
Those first days of vacation started the wheels of planning spinning. What to do, where to go, what adventures would be told in September. The first thing I did was always set up my tent in my back yard. That old canvas friend kept me safe and secure many a summer night. But the best part was just laying on the cot, with my eyes cast skyward, looking through the trees, daydreaming. I would drift into and out of sleep while the warm breeze of summer moved the leaves on the trees and played cat and mouse with the tent flaps. The overhead drone of some propeller plane would come and go and I would imagine the people headed to different places.
Soon the summer would be drawing to an end. Those warm days and nights would soon be gone and the breeze that moved the air around before air conditioning would soon bring winters chill. As September came we always had one last blast and that was the Kiwanis Fair at Oak Street. Those vast plains that Rommel's alter ego would practice his battlefield moves would become alive with tents and rides and games and food. It was the end all to a always perfect, but somehow surprisingly short, summer. A summer we hoped and planed for that today is a distant memory.
Those old trains have been replaced with cookie cutter sterile aluminum tubes, the Fair is no longer held in September, and Oak Street School has been enlarged and is probably air conditioned and Adolph has finally hung up his riding crop and goggles and his ghost rides the fields of glory while the choirs of angels sing the praises of Valkyrie.
I've long since moved away but just for a moment, I can be anywhere, and close my eyes and I'm thrust back 45 years into that old classroom waiting for summer to begin. Feeling that warm summer breeze surround my soul and take me back in time.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Deja Vue all Over Again or Bayou Blues (Part II)
Just when you think it can't get any worse, it does. My heart goes out for the folks of the Gulf Coast States. Here we are 5 years after Katrina and the core problems remain. What really got fixed? Are they any safer now than before? Thousands of people are still without their homes. Hundreds of businesses and jobs lost. Promises of help, relief, and fixes to the problems that caused the disaster have rung even less than hollow.
Now let's pour some billions of gallons of oil onto the ocean and kill what business was left and hear once again the hollow promises of Washington say they will "Fix" the problem. It's 2005 all over again.
Obama and the country slammed George Bush for his administrations reaction and help for the Katrina disaster. A disaster of this magnitude will be better handled by my staff because we learned of the mistakes and shortcomings of the past administration. What did they learn? Fire the head of the department that was caught out of sync with the issues?
We talk about the banks and insurance industry being "too big to fail" and yet our government does it to us all the time. They fail us. The locals in Louisiana wanted to build sand bars to catch the oil before it went into the marshes. US Army Corp of Engineers says "you can't do that", you need an Environmental Review to see if there would be harmful impacts on the environment!
Where do they get these people from? Impact on the Environment? Hello! You've got oil coming ashore faster than a plastic sled on a luge run and you've got concerns about tidal flows and impacts the sand will have on the Environment?
This whole situation makes me sick. No wonder so many in the world laugh at us. The US government struts around like the Emperor with his new clothes and has the nerve to tell others how to govern their environment while Big Oil has bought and paid for each and everyone of the congress of the US.
We as a nation need to seek and find really responsible people to represent us. The existing two party system is really dead and it's corpse is floating ashore on the Bayou in Louisiana. The parties represent their interests not ours. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and expecting different results!
I wouldn't blame the folks along the Gulf Coast to rebel and seek secession from the USof A because the good old USof A isn't helping them one bit!
Now let's pour some billions of gallons of oil onto the ocean and kill what business was left and hear once again the hollow promises of Washington say they will "Fix" the problem. It's 2005 all over again.
Obama and the country slammed George Bush for his administrations reaction and help for the Katrina disaster. A disaster of this magnitude will be better handled by my staff because we learned of the mistakes and shortcomings of the past administration. What did they learn? Fire the head of the department that was caught out of sync with the issues?
We talk about the banks and insurance industry being "too big to fail" and yet our government does it to us all the time. They fail us. The locals in Louisiana wanted to build sand bars to catch the oil before it went into the marshes. US Army Corp of Engineers says "you can't do that", you need an Environmental Review to see if there would be harmful impacts on the environment!
Where do they get these people from? Impact on the Environment? Hello! You've got oil coming ashore faster than a plastic sled on a luge run and you've got concerns about tidal flows and impacts the sand will have on the Environment?
This whole situation makes me sick. No wonder so many in the world laugh at us. The US government struts around like the Emperor with his new clothes and has the nerve to tell others how to govern their environment while Big Oil has bought and paid for each and everyone of the congress of the US.
We as a nation need to seek and find really responsible people to represent us. The existing two party system is really dead and it's corpse is floating ashore on the Bayou in Louisiana. The parties represent their interests not ours. The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and expecting different results!
I wouldn't blame the folks along the Gulf Coast to rebel and seek secession from the USof A because the good old USof A isn't helping them one bit!
Friday, April 30, 2010
Raising Arizona
The recent events in Arizona have done something no one else has done before to this level, talk about the inept actions about our border security. Now I am not agreeing with or disagreeing with the law but what I am saying is that our Federal government has dropped the ball and maybe the folks who live in these areas of the country, where border security is a problem, are fed (nice pun but not intended) up with the inaction.
As Americans we take so much for granted in our lives, police protection for one. We do not have the widespread corruption and lawlessness that plagues our neighbors to the south. Why is that? We are a country that is founded on laws and courts to address these issues. We might think otherwise sometimes but the fact is that our population is very well protected from the crap going on south of here.
The people in Arizona and other southwestern states are getting the brunt of the spill over of these illegal immigrants and the trouble that follows. Read sometimes the local papers from the border region and see how farmers are killed, property damaged or stolen, crops ruined or livestock killed or stolen by these illegals. This is stuff we don't hear on CNN or Fox. Why? Because it is not glamorous or sound bite worthy. Our attention span can only deal with fast action news and tailored soundbites.
The border has always been a problem, but it is getting worse. Congress has done nothing but wring its hands about how to protect us and I'm not saying just the borders. Our security at the airports is a joke. It is reactionary rather than preemptive. Our casinos have better security than many of our government facilities. Why? Because their livelihood depends upon a secure environment for their guests.
So why can't the government take the same pro active stance as a private industry? Oh, someone will get their feelings hurt. We'll be acting discriminatory against our neighbors to the south.
Our government in Washington just doesn't get it. They are not for the people they are only there for themselves and those who do make it to Washington with a great deal of ideology and gusto find out they have to pay to play and the next thing you know they are just the same as those who are there.
I have to give praise to those legislators in Arizona who had the wherewith all to take a position. Whether or not they took a stand. A stand when others just stand and wring their hands and find a million excuses why we can't get things done.
The courts will probably decide the law is unenforceable and ill conceived and probably unconstitutional but the fact remains that someone had the nerve to stand up and tell Washington that they need to act.
As Americans we take so much for granted in our lives, police protection for one. We do not have the widespread corruption and lawlessness that plagues our neighbors to the south. Why is that? We are a country that is founded on laws and courts to address these issues. We might think otherwise sometimes but the fact is that our population is very well protected from the crap going on south of here.
The people in Arizona and other southwestern states are getting the brunt of the spill over of these illegal immigrants and the trouble that follows. Read sometimes the local papers from the border region and see how farmers are killed, property damaged or stolen, crops ruined or livestock killed or stolen by these illegals. This is stuff we don't hear on CNN or Fox. Why? Because it is not glamorous or sound bite worthy. Our attention span can only deal with fast action news and tailored soundbites.
The border has always been a problem, but it is getting worse. Congress has done nothing but wring its hands about how to protect us and I'm not saying just the borders. Our security at the airports is a joke. It is reactionary rather than preemptive. Our casinos have better security than many of our government facilities. Why? Because their livelihood depends upon a secure environment for their guests.
So why can't the government take the same pro active stance as a private industry? Oh, someone will get their feelings hurt. We'll be acting discriminatory against our neighbors to the south.
Our government in Washington just doesn't get it. They are not for the people they are only there for themselves and those who do make it to Washington with a great deal of ideology and gusto find out they have to pay to play and the next thing you know they are just the same as those who are there.
I have to give praise to those legislators in Arizona who had the wherewith all to take a position. Whether or not they took a stand. A stand when others just stand and wring their hands and find a million excuses why we can't get things done.
The courts will probably decide the law is unenforceable and ill conceived and probably unconstitutional but the fact remains that someone had the nerve to stand up and tell Washington that they need to act.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
I'm from Albany ...
I was in a hurry this morning to get to work, so I dashed into my favorite morning stop for my chocolate iced doughnut and Dr. Pepper, and a quick perusal of the morning headlines. One caught my attention, "OTB Bailout".
OTB Bailout? How can horse betting, done in the open and legal, be in a financial mess? Oh wait, I see it now, the government has a hand in it! No wonder it flopped. It is amazing that for decades many "Families" controlled the para mutual industry and they lived very handsomely. They employed probably more people than the government and they made a good profit.
Well along comes the government, wanting their cut of the profits in addition to the taxes, and they create Off Track Betting (OTB). Many years go by and suddenly OTB goes belly up! Go figure. This answers many questions about how we've gotten into this mess. Remember, "I'm from Albany, and I want to HELP!"
OTB Bailout? How can horse betting, done in the open and legal, be in a financial mess? Oh wait, I see it now, the government has a hand in it! No wonder it flopped. It is amazing that for decades many "Families" controlled the para mutual industry and they lived very handsomely. They employed probably more people than the government and they made a good profit.
Well along comes the government, wanting their cut of the profits in addition to the taxes, and they create Off Track Betting (OTB). Many years go by and suddenly OTB goes belly up! Go figure. This answers many questions about how we've gotten into this mess. Remember, "I'm from Albany, and I want to HELP!"
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Stop and Look, or It will Pass you By
I remember my dad taking the same train into Hoboken each day, so he could work in Manhattan. It was the same route day after day, just so he could sit in an office all day without interacting with the world outside. Then taking the same route in reverse to get home. Each day was almost as if it was programed. I looked up to my dad, even though he probably n
ever knew it for all the grief and aggravation I gave him. I often thought that it would be fun to travel each day on the train to and from the City. But life had other things in store for me.
I traveled the same route to and from home to work for many years. Just a few blocks for the first 16. After that work wasn't always in the same place. The past 17 years it was in one local until last April. But during all the past 35 years I worked outside. I could see, feel, taste and embrace all four seasons. Summers were ungodly hot, winters down right nasty and fall and spring could be no picnic. But persevere I did as I enjoyed seeing how the earth lived and breathed with each passing day. But yet I couldn't see the forest for the trees.
Spring and Fall are my favorite times of the year. Summer is a close second but I'm still having a bit of trouble getting my arms around Winter after 35 years of working out in the cold and damp collecting garbage, plowing or shoveling snow and just never getting warm enough to feel good.
For the past 20 years I ran my own business and I tell you it couldn't have been located in a better part of the world. I've traveled extensively around the US and some parts of Europe. I have seen a lot of this country but I still feel the Catskills and Hudson Valley reign supreme. The Rockies have their snow covered mountains and all, but here it's just something to see these mountains rise up from the river and reach almost a mile high. At early evening looking westward, as the setting sun silhouettes the Catskills. You can see the "purple mountains majesty" as the prolific words penned by Katherine Bates, the author of "America the Beautiful" standing right there for all to see.
The Rockies start at one mile in elevation and grow to about a mile above that so the height issue is negligible. The Western States have their forests and streams and rivers. Well so do we. I'll stack any waterfall in the Catskills against anyone anywhere (I'm bias as you can see) in the US.
So, I have been driving around on all these highways and back roads of the Catskill / Hudson Valley Region for the past 20 years and enjoying it. Like the other day for instance; I c.JPG)
ame across a heard of 20 or so deer just wandering around. I also saw a group of beavers working on their latest addition to their lake side villas. Besides the animals I love the birds.
On Friday morning, on a ride up to the Ashokan Reservoir I saw blue birds, gold finches, cardinals, orioles, blue jays, red tailed hawks, and many more colorful birds I can't begin to name. Woodchucks abound in the woods, and I'm not talking about the environmental types. Rabbits go scurrying about trying to decide which way is safe? Ever the nervous Nellies. And the squirrels, those useless "park rats", running and hesitating, just waiting to become the latest pot hole filler.
But now as I am slowing down my life style and not living solely by the "clock" I have been able to really appreciate the view outside my window. Like my dad before me, I began to tak.JPG)
e everything I saw as being "just background" to the everyday work routine. From time to time I noticed something spectacular or different, but those were like candid snap shots in life. Filed away in some distant scrap book in the synapse of our memory. Today those candid stills are becoming more like an I-Max presentation. Showing feature length in our mind when we sit back and close our eyes and relax.
If I see something now, I stop and take the moment to fix the scene in my mind. Breathe a cleansing breath and give thanks to God for his beautiful handiwork on our Earth.
Like this morning the visuals with all the flowering trees and the small green leaves awakening into bloom for this year, and a low angle sunrise made true "Kodachrome Moments." Moments we all take too much for granted. We need to just slow down, appreciate and give thanks for a wonderful world we live in. For if we don't stop and look, it will pass us by.
ever knew it for all the grief and aggravation I gave him. I often thought that it would be fun to travel each day on the train to and from the City. But life had other things in store for me.I traveled the same route to and from home to work for many years. Just a few blocks for the first 16. After that work wasn't always in the same place. The past 17 years it was in one local until last April. But during all the past 35 years I worked outside. I could see, feel, taste and embrace all four seasons. Summers were ungodly hot, winters down right nasty and fall and spring could be no picnic. But persevere I did as I enjoyed seeing how the earth lived and breathed with each passing day. But yet I couldn't see the forest for the trees.
Spring and Fall are my favorite times of the year. Summer is a close second but I'm still having a bit of trouble getting my arms around Winter after 35 years of working out in the cold and damp collecting garbage, plowing or shoveling snow and just never getting warm enough to feel good.
For the past 20 years I ran my own business and I tell you it couldn't have been located in a better part of the world. I've traveled extensively around the US and some parts of Europe. I have seen a lot of this country but I still feel the Catskills and Hudson Valley reign supreme. The Rockies have their snow covered mountains and all, but here it's just something to see these mountains rise up from the river and reach almost a mile high. At early evening looking westward, as the setting sun silhouettes the Catskills. You can see the "purple mountains majesty" as the prolific words penned by Katherine Bates, the author of "America the Beautiful" standing right there for all to see.
The Rockies start at one mile in elevation and grow to about a mile above that so the height issue is negligible. The Western States have their forests and streams and rivers. Well so do we. I'll stack any waterfall in the Catskills against anyone anywhere (I'm bias as you can see) in the US.
So, I have been driving around on all these highways and back roads of the Catskill / Hudson Valley Region for the past 20 years and enjoying it. Like the other day for instance; I c
.JPG)
ame across a heard of 20 or so deer just wandering around. I also saw a group of beavers working on their latest addition to their lake side villas. Besides the animals I love the birds.On Friday morning, on a ride up to the Ashokan Reservoir I saw blue birds, gold finches, cardinals, orioles, blue jays, red tailed hawks, and many more colorful birds I can't begin to name. Woodchucks abound in the woods, and I'm not talking about the environmental types. Rabbits go scurrying about trying to decide which way is safe? Ever the nervous Nellies. And the squirrels, those useless "park rats", running and hesitating, just waiting to become the latest pot hole filler.
But now as I am slowing down my life style and not living solely by the "clock" I have been able to really appreciate the view outside my window. Like my dad before me, I began to tak
.JPG)
e everything I saw as being "just background" to the everyday work routine. From time to time I noticed something spectacular or different, but those were like candid snap shots in life. Filed away in some distant scrap book in the synapse of our memory. Today those candid stills are becoming more like an I-Max presentation. Showing feature length in our mind when we sit back and close our eyes and relax.If I see something now, I stop and take the moment to fix the scene in my mind. Breathe a cleansing breath and give thanks to God for his beautiful handiwork on our Earth.
Like this morning the visuals with all the flowering trees and the small green leaves awakening into bloom for this year, and a low angle sunrise made true "Kodachrome Moments." Moments we all take too much for granted. We need to just slow down, appreciate and give thanks for a wonderful world we live in. For if we don't stop and look, it will pass us by.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Cable or Sattelite?
Every evening I sit in my recliner, pull out the lap top and watch TV while I check my e-mails and dig for trivial information. During this evening ritual there is always a slew of commercials about cable or satellite tv services. Like always, everyone is trying their own spin on their product vs. their competitors.
Having grown up with TV and rabbit ears I would have never thought about paying for television. Isn't that what the ads are for? In 1974 I moved to Kingston, NY and tried my hand at a roof mounted antenna. No Good! We got more ghosts than a Casper Cartoon marathon. I had to go with cable. It was a bitter pill that I had a hard time swallowing. Paying for TV? So I tried to put it into perspective, the cable company was providing me with the antenna and I was paying for the service of them delivering the service to my home. OK, that worked. I could understand that explanation. They had a vast array of capital investment and they needed to be compensated for operations, maintenance and upkeep.
Premium channels at the time were either Showtime or HBO, depending upon the cable company you had. Nobody in those early days had both, at least not here. And of course you had to pay extra for those "Premium Services." If you chose not to then you didn't spend the money.
Then, without noticing the cable companies started raising their prices and changing the overall makeup of the channels provided. I started to question, early on, about why we had all these "Sports Channels" in the basic package but you had to pay extra for educational programming. It didn't make sense to me. I like some sports, baseball, curling, Iron Man competitions but did I need ten channels of this stuff? The marketing gurus at the cable companies were pushing our youth towards a precipice of untold proportions. The sports figures making mega bucks and really doing nothing but playing some game for entertainment value gave rise to the unrealistic dream of youth who put aside their studies to seek a lotto payout with some sports franchise. These kids had a better chance of a dollar and a dream than making those seven figure figures playing some game. This should have been "Premium service," not the educational channels.
When cable first started we were paying $15 a month to start and now well over $50. The cable companies became larger, and more powerful. Big conglomerates bought up all the small systems under the guise of economies of scale will give lower prices. I can't say how many times I heard that one! Never did I see the cable bill go down. Pretty soon the wire into your house became a thing of the past. You had to rent converter boxes to watch you TV plus you had to pay a rental on the remote for the converter box.
Now I might have been born at night, but I did have my eyes open and I just can't see how we let this animal get so big it's eating us out of house and home. Let's look at the facts:
We pay for the cable or satellite service to entertain us. So if we want to see the service we are paying for we have to rent their controller and remote. We want local stations in the mix, yet the cable companies got some high pressure lobbyist in Washington to let the cable or satellite company decide what's local. Case in point, Kingston is 50 miles from Albany, NY, and 90 from New York City. New York City are the local stations, Albany are not! Another thing is the offering of channels YOU want! Well how about offering an ale carte menu of channels? Buy just what you want to watch and not pay for those channels that you don't want!
Having grown up with TV and rabbit ears I would have never thought about paying for television. Isn't that what the ads are for? In 1974 I moved to Kingston, NY and tried my hand at a roof mounted antenna. No Good! We got more ghosts than a Casper Cartoon marathon. I had to go with cable. It was a bitter pill that I had a hard time swallowing. Paying for TV? So I tried to put it into perspective, the cable company was providing me with the antenna and I was paying for the service of them delivering the service to my home. OK, that worked. I could understand that explanation. They had a vast array of capital investment and they needed to be compensated for operations, maintenance and upkeep.
Premium channels at the time were either Showtime or HBO, depending upon the cable company you had. Nobody in those early days had both, at least not here. And of course you had to pay extra for those "Premium Services." If you chose not to then you didn't spend the money.
Then, without noticing the cable companies started raising their prices and changing the overall makeup of the channels provided. I started to question, early on, about why we had all these "Sports Channels" in the basic package but you had to pay extra for educational programming. It didn't make sense to me. I like some sports, baseball, curling, Iron Man competitions but did I need ten channels of this stuff? The marketing gurus at the cable companies were pushing our youth towards a precipice of untold proportions. The sports figures making mega bucks and really doing nothing but playing some game for entertainment value gave rise to the unrealistic dream of youth who put aside their studies to seek a lotto payout with some sports franchise. These kids had a better chance of a dollar and a dream than making those seven figure figures playing some game. This should have been "Premium service," not the educational channels.
When cable first started we were paying $15 a month to start and now well over $50. The cable companies became larger, and more powerful. Big conglomerates bought up all the small systems under the guise of economies of scale will give lower prices. I can't say how many times I heard that one! Never did I see the cable bill go down. Pretty soon the wire into your house became a thing of the past. You had to rent converter boxes to watch you TV plus you had to pay a rental on the remote for the converter box.
Now I might have been born at night, but I did have my eyes open and I just can't see how we let this animal get so big it's eating us out of house and home. Let's look at the facts:
We pay for the cable or satellite service to entertain us. So if we want to see the service we are paying for we have to rent their controller and remote. We want local stations in the mix, yet the cable companies got some high pressure lobbyist in Washington to let the cable or satellite company decide what's local. Case in point, Kingston is 50 miles from Albany, NY, and 90 from New York City. New York City are the local stations, Albany are not! Another thing is the offering of channels YOU want! Well how about offering an ale carte menu of channels? Buy just what you want to watch and not pay for those channels that you don't want!
So I recently looked into this whole morass and found that the cable companies have a franchise with each municipality that allows them to operate as a monopoly in that community. So there is usually a cable commission that oversees the franchise in each community. I asked a member of the local commission about this and I was told, they have no power over regulating the cable company!
No power? The cable company comes to the community every few years to renew their franchise. It sounds like to me there should be some bargaining room here. Have the commission set the tone. Some one will have to blink. What would happen if a competing cable company would come in and offer a better arrangement? What happened to competition? I think we all need to get on our local cable commissions and demand they have the cable companies to stop fleecing us!
Friday, April 2, 2010
Easter Message
Easter is here! Holy week is finishing up, as today is Good Friday. I'm really not an avid church goer. I go on the usual holidays, Christmas, Easter, or whenever the mood strikes or there is some special event, Baptism, Confirmation, First Communion, or a Funeral.
Why don't I go more? That's a question I've debated all my adult life. As a youth, I would walk with my sister Peg to our church, four blocks away for Sunday school and then Church services. I really had the passion to go each Sunday. I especially enjoyed going with my grandmother to German services, held in her church on the other side of Staten Island. I was so captured by the wholeness of the "Church" experience I even thought about being a minister. I studied for 1 1/2 years for the Lutheran Ministry until there was a "parting of the philosophical way."
Church services were really special things, I thought. Everyone was there. People were dressed in their best clothes. The women and girls wore hats and gloves. The minister in his vestments had a regal and noble air about him. He always had a kind word, spoken in a low, metered tone that instilled hope, compassion, reverence and authority.
Sunday mornings we had sometimes three services. The pews were always packed. The organist or musical director was always on cue and filled the church with a sound that reached deep down into your soul and brought it out for all to see. The minister would dazzle us kids with his "Fire and Brimstone" oratory. He had a knack of looking us all in the eye yet watched the congregants with the sharp eye of a modern day surveillance system. His sermons and readings of the gospel would leave us kids so scared to do anything wrong, lest we be "smote by the hand of God!" Whatever that meant! It just sounded down right scary, until about Tuesday when life returned to normal and us kids would be getting into trouble all over again.
Christmas Eve service was always a grand occasion. The Church was festooned with all kinds of Christmas decorations, evergreens, candles, bows, pointsettas and other decorations. The place smelled of pine. (You would think the Pine Sol lady was cleaning the floors.) And right there in the center of the Church, by the altar, was the manger, with the baby Jesus. A sacred location. No one ever dared to approach the manger while it was there. It was also revered when it was stored in the closet of the Sunday school auditorium.
Church service was always at midnight on Christmas Eve. By rights I should have been tired and cranky, but the adrenaline was flowing. The count down clock was on. Minutes dragged slowly. First there was dinner with the relatives, then Christmas cookies. Cookies that my mother thought she had hidden out of my reach. Never underestimate the power of a kid! (I learned to scale vertical objects at an early age and find the treasure that was hidden!) A quick car ride to Church, the service then it was home for PRESENTS!!!! That's how I saw the world on Christmas.
Easter was a similar production, only the time slots were different. We got up before the sun. No breakfast. Got dressed. In the car and a quick ride to Church before the sun rose. Once through the doors to the Church, the dark cool night exploded with light, sound and fragrance and all the majesty that could be crammed into the four walls of the Church. The Church was wall to wall flowers. It was like going with my father to the nursery to buy flowers for the graves. Only the dirt smell of the geraniums was missing. Walking into Church made it seem like we walked out of Winter and right into Spring! It was a true sign that Spring had now arrived and bloomed in the Church since Friday at noon time, when all the windows were covered with dark heavy purple drapes shutting out all the light.
Easter service, called sunrise, was a spectacular event. It seemed the choir was really more into the spirit of singing, the organist played louder and longer. And it was like a great play performed before an obliging and participating audience working at a fevered pitch to an absolute climax! A climax of such proportion that as a kid you would expect Jesus to descend slowly out of the eaves of the Church right on cue onto the alter. That climax, of song, music and pontificated religious oratory hit a fevered pitch just as the mornings first rays of sunlight exploded into this packed gathering of the faithful! It would make me tingle all over!
I don't know what changed when we moved to New Jersey but it seemed a lot of the magic was lost. Yea, the services were the same, to a degree, but the setting seemed more sterile and bland. Maybe it was the newer built church? Our old church was one of those end of the 19th century Victorian Churches with a vast array of stained glass windows that illustrated various scenes of the life of Christ in vivid detail as opposed to the newer church and it's modernistic interpretation of the Savior.
I knew my father and mother missed the grandeur of the Church we left behind, for we went to many different churches in Jersey over several years before settling where we did.
I was always a kid who loved the out doors. I never knew why but I always felt being alone in the woods as an almost spiritual experience. The complex underlying and intertwined sounds of the stillness of nature had a narcotic effect and would lull me into a trans like state. The more I sat and listened the more enveloped I became in the grasp of the natural world. A world created by God.
My educational experience in school really bored me to death. My teachers would always point out to my parents that I had such "High capabilities and Intelligence!" But I seriously failed to apply myself. I felt bored and disconnected. The education I was being given did not answer the questions within my mind. Questions I knew I had but couldn't formulate. Things I wanted to learn about but were not taught.
Then one summer I spent a few weeks with my best friend at his Uncle's farm in upstate New York and that's were it started to come together. I was on my own for the first time in my life and I could experience things, explore, investigate and absorb. This is where I felt the hand of God came down and laid on my shoulder and encouraged me to go forward to be a minister. Yet I was not a "Holy Individual". Me a minister? Man that got a lot of laughs then and still does from those who know me. Yet that was the path I choose to take.
Fast forward a few years and I was as disillusioned about organized religion as anyone could be. The politics, the absolute acceptance of the dictum's forced on the students. It was as if they were producing robots to go out and put on the show each and every Sunday. I was devastated!
Here I thought that the minister had all the answers and found him to be as frail and unknowing as I. The only difference I could find that his absolute faith in the religion was his faith in the religion.
Now my faith on the other hand was unshaken. Rock solid in commitment. But I needed to explore why it was and I found no suitable answers. I guess it was the scientific mind at work. For everything there is an answer. I felt and still do in many ways that life is a very big riddle and we have to search for the answer for full satisfaction and understanding of our faith. Unknowingly I set myself down a long road to answer that question and many more. That road was the road of life and the experiences that are set before us.
Some people argue that life is pre-ordained and it is totally God's plan as to how our life unfolds. Others say it is totally happenstance and you take the chips of life where they fall. Others have no clue and don't care and blame others for their lot in life.
It is my feeling that it is a combination of many forces and situations that determine where our lives head. I feel that everyday we are given a choice when we get up as to what is going to happen. The circumstances and choices we take and make each moment change and alter our course in life. This alteration in life is sometime minute or great depending on the choice or choices made. The random happenstance of things and events happening are all part of equation. Let's say the loss of a loved one. It's not our lot in life as to who gets called home to God. He is testing our faith in His decisions as to how we will accept the loss.
I used to be really upset about the loss of a loved one or friend and would question why. I evidenced the loss of children in accidents or fires or by the hands of others for no reason. I couldn't comprehend why God could do such a thing. When I would ask a minister about this they would always say the same thing, "Gods will!" I just couldn't by that simple phrase. They never seemed to go much further than that. I felt almost ashamed that I did not have it within me to be that strong in my faith. I felt my faith was unshakable but there was always something more I wanted something i thought they knew but never said. Was it that I failed to know enough to ask the right questions or was it back to my annoyance with the ministry studies that they never gave us the fundamentals about faith?
But through the years of seeing loved ones called home and the loss of total strangers I slowly began to realize that it is nothing more than God testing our faith and his ultimate will. He is providing us with eternal life after we leave this mortal coil. A gift that many people have a hard time putting their heads and or arms around simply because we fail to grasp the totality of it and the beauty and reward that is within the Divine gift.
Have I sat down and studied the Bible or any other religious text and come up with this conclusion? The answer is no. Have I sat in on study groups and debated this with a room full of theological experts? Still the answer is no.
The way I came to this "Epiphany" was over the last 40 years of my life distilled into the last year where I was truly tested by the loss of my life's work. I had rolled the dice and worked for the last 35 years building a career, a business and what I thought was the best for my family only to have someone yank it out from under me. This put all those life experiences and unanswered questions into a complete and comprehensive thought about life and service to God. But still how did one event become a catalyst for this clarification of Faith? Simply put, my granddaughter.
As many scholars debate and pontificate their positions and interpretations of the theological teachings of all the worlds religions the simplicity of it all becomes hidden like the forest for the trees.
That is why this Easter, I will go into Church with a renewed spirit of my faith. A faith that has not been reborn, remade, repackaged or reconstituted but a faith that is restored with the fullness of it's meaning. As the Easter lesson tells us that "Christ has died!, Christ has risen!, Christ will come again!" It is that last statement of Christ coming again I really think is something more than the old boy showing up in Times Square on New Years Eve and proclaiming the second coming. I think it is something much deeper and exquisite. Like the finding of Christ within us all. And the day that we all can say and truly, truly without hesitation and doubt that we have him deep within our hearts and souls is the day that he will come again to embrace us in his entirety and save us from all temptation and give us the full eternal life without hate and sin.
Happy Easter to all
I'm not a born again. I'm simply a Christian who is deeply connected to God within myself and I feel that while religion and its teachings should be shared religion is still a deeply spiritual thing that is between ones self and the creator.
Why don't I go more? That's a question I've debated all my adult life. As a youth, I would walk with my sister Peg to our church, four blocks away for Sunday school and then Church services. I really had the passion to go each Sunday. I especially enjoyed going with my grandmother to German services, held in her church on the other side of Staten Island. I was so captured by the wholeness of the "Church" experience I even thought about being a minister. I studied for 1 1/2 years for the Lutheran Ministry until there was a "parting of the philosophical way."
Church services were really special things, I thought. Everyone was there. People were dressed in their best clothes. The women and girls wore hats and gloves. The minister in his vestments had a regal and noble air about him. He always had a kind word, spoken in a low, metered tone that instilled hope, compassion, reverence and authority.
Sunday mornings we had sometimes three services. The pews were always packed. The organist or musical director was always on cue and filled the church with a sound that reached deep down into your soul and brought it out for all to see. The minister would dazzle us kids with his "Fire and Brimstone" oratory. He had a knack of looking us all in the eye yet watched the congregants with the sharp eye of a modern day surveillance system. His sermons and readings of the gospel would leave us kids so scared to do anything wrong, lest we be "smote by the hand of God!" Whatever that meant! It just sounded down right scary, until about Tuesday when life returned to normal and us kids would be getting into trouble all over again.
Christmas Eve service was always a grand occasion. The Church was festooned with all kinds of Christmas decorations, evergreens, candles, bows, pointsettas and other decorations. The place smelled of pine. (You would think the Pine Sol lady was cleaning the floors.) And right there in the center of the Church, by the altar, was the manger, with the baby Jesus. A sacred location. No one ever dared to approach the manger while it was there. It was also revered when it was stored in the closet of the Sunday school auditorium.
Church service was always at midnight on Christmas Eve. By rights I should have been tired and cranky, but the adrenaline was flowing. The count down clock was on. Minutes dragged slowly. First there was dinner with the relatives, then Christmas cookies. Cookies that my mother thought she had hidden out of my reach. Never underestimate the power of a kid! (I learned to scale vertical objects at an early age and find the treasure that was hidden!) A quick car ride to Church, the service then it was home for PRESENTS!!!! That's how I saw the world on Christmas.
Easter was a similar production, only the time slots were different. We got up before the sun. No breakfast. Got dressed. In the car and a quick ride to Church before the sun rose. Once through the doors to the Church, the dark cool night exploded with light, sound and fragrance and all the majesty that could be crammed into the four walls of the Church. The Church was wall to wall flowers. It was like going with my father to the nursery to buy flowers for the graves. Only the dirt smell of the geraniums was missing. Walking into Church made it seem like we walked out of Winter and right into Spring! It was a true sign that Spring had now arrived and bloomed in the Church since Friday at noon time, when all the windows were covered with dark heavy purple drapes shutting out all the light.
Easter service, called sunrise, was a spectacular event. It seemed the choir was really more into the spirit of singing, the organist played louder and longer. And it was like a great play performed before an obliging and participating audience working at a fevered pitch to an absolute climax! A climax of such proportion that as a kid you would expect Jesus to descend slowly out of the eaves of the Church right on cue onto the alter. That climax, of song, music and pontificated religious oratory hit a fevered pitch just as the mornings first rays of sunlight exploded into this packed gathering of the faithful! It would make me tingle all over!
I don't know what changed when we moved to New Jersey but it seemed a lot of the magic was lost. Yea, the services were the same, to a degree, but the setting seemed more sterile and bland. Maybe it was the newer built church? Our old church was one of those end of the 19th century Victorian Churches with a vast array of stained glass windows that illustrated various scenes of the life of Christ in vivid detail as opposed to the newer church and it's modernistic interpretation of the Savior.
I knew my father and mother missed the grandeur of the Church we left behind, for we went to many different churches in Jersey over several years before settling where we did.
I was always a kid who loved the out doors. I never knew why but I always felt being alone in the woods as an almost spiritual experience. The complex underlying and intertwined sounds of the stillness of nature had a narcotic effect and would lull me into a trans like state. The more I sat and listened the more enveloped I became in the grasp of the natural world. A world created by God.
My educational experience in school really bored me to death. My teachers would always point out to my parents that I had such "High capabilities and Intelligence!" But I seriously failed to apply myself. I felt bored and disconnected. The education I was being given did not answer the questions within my mind. Questions I knew I had but couldn't formulate. Things I wanted to learn about but were not taught.
Then one summer I spent a few weeks with my best friend at his Uncle's farm in upstate New York and that's were it started to come together. I was on my own for the first time in my life and I could experience things, explore, investigate and absorb. This is where I felt the hand of God came down and laid on my shoulder and encouraged me to go forward to be a minister. Yet I was not a "Holy Individual". Me a minister? Man that got a lot of laughs then and still does from those who know me. Yet that was the path I choose to take.
Fast forward a few years and I was as disillusioned about organized religion as anyone could be. The politics, the absolute acceptance of the dictum's forced on the students. It was as if they were producing robots to go out and put on the show each and every Sunday. I was devastated!
Here I thought that the minister had all the answers and found him to be as frail and unknowing as I. The only difference I could find that his absolute faith in the religion was his faith in the religion.
Now my faith on the other hand was unshaken. Rock solid in commitment. But I needed to explore why it was and I found no suitable answers. I guess it was the scientific mind at work. For everything there is an answer. I felt and still do in many ways that life is a very big riddle and we have to search for the answer for full satisfaction and understanding of our faith. Unknowingly I set myself down a long road to answer that question and many more. That road was the road of life and the experiences that are set before us.
Some people argue that life is pre-ordained and it is totally God's plan as to how our life unfolds. Others say it is totally happenstance and you take the chips of life where they fall. Others have no clue and don't care and blame others for their lot in life.
It is my feeling that it is a combination of many forces and situations that determine where our lives head. I feel that everyday we are given a choice when we get up as to what is going to happen. The circumstances and choices we take and make each moment change and alter our course in life. This alteration in life is sometime minute or great depending on the choice or choices made. The random happenstance of things and events happening are all part of equation. Let's say the loss of a loved one. It's not our lot in life as to who gets called home to God. He is testing our faith in His decisions as to how we will accept the loss.
I used to be really upset about the loss of a loved one or friend and would question why. I evidenced the loss of children in accidents or fires or by the hands of others for no reason. I couldn't comprehend why God could do such a thing. When I would ask a minister about this they would always say the same thing, "Gods will!" I just couldn't by that simple phrase. They never seemed to go much further than that. I felt almost ashamed that I did not have it within me to be that strong in my faith. I felt my faith was unshakable but there was always something more I wanted something i thought they knew but never said. Was it that I failed to know enough to ask the right questions or was it back to my annoyance with the ministry studies that they never gave us the fundamentals about faith?
But through the years of seeing loved ones called home and the loss of total strangers I slowly began to realize that it is nothing more than God testing our faith and his ultimate will. He is providing us with eternal life after we leave this mortal coil. A gift that many people have a hard time putting their heads and or arms around simply because we fail to grasp the totality of it and the beauty and reward that is within the Divine gift.
Have I sat down and studied the Bible or any other religious text and come up with this conclusion? The answer is no. Have I sat in on study groups and debated this with a room full of theological experts? Still the answer is no.
The way I came to this "Epiphany" was over the last 40 years of my life distilled into the last year where I was truly tested by the loss of my life's work. I had rolled the dice and worked for the last 35 years building a career, a business and what I thought was the best for my family only to have someone yank it out from under me. This put all those life experiences and unanswered questions into a complete and comprehensive thought about life and service to God. But still how did one event become a catalyst for this clarification of Faith? Simply put, my granddaughter.
My granddaughter Emily has developmental issues. They say she has ADHD and autistic spectrum whatevers. I think a catch all for, "well there's something amiss but we haven't got a clue so let's put her in this group." To look at her and talk with her you'd never know it. But I think that through this child's shortcomings God handed me a tool of unprecedented value. This little girl will sit transfixed and watch that nun on EWTN saying the rosary and Hail Mary's for hours. Her questions about religion are unbelievable! Since I am now driving a school bus I am her day care provider when school is out. It's a great fit! She has such unconditional for her E-Pa and I for her. Because of her issues she will ask questions after questions on a subject. Much like I thought but never had anyone to discuss. She see the world in a much simpler and innocent way that we as adults overlook.
A year ago his past Christmas Eve she lost her other Grandfather. This is where I think the beginning of this religious experience began. I wrote about George in a Blog titled "Good Bye and Good Luck." A piece I never thought I had in me. A piece I wrote about someone who was involved with my daughter but not so much with my life. I person I knew but not closely. I needed a tool in which to explain the death of "Pop Pop's" to Emily. In soothing her emotions I did so to many of my daughter's in-laws with the piece.
It was as if God sat down beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder and said, "Curt, you have the answers you have been seeking all these years now here's how you will see them!" Even as I write this "Novella" I can feel his presence here with me.
He handed me another opportunity last summer, shortly after I lost the bulk of my business when my Father in law passed away. I was the one the police notified and I had to break the news to my wife and family. I could feel his hand on my shoulder again guiding me and giving me the strength to make it through the ordeal and to help console others. A real skill I never could understand how a minister could obtain. It's not something that is taught. It is something that is felt and is deep within. It is like a sleeping part of our psyche that comes to life when we really need it without fail. It is the true believer that can understand this emotional component of ourselves.
Am I a sinner? Yes and will be to the day I die. The last and only person I know of who was so pure and without sin was Christ. We all sin. It's a fact of life and we all must try to avoid the temptation to surrender to the "Dark Side". But succumb we do. Some a little, some a lot. Yet our God is so loving and forgiving that he casts our sins aside when we ask him to. I see into the innocence of the child and I ask why must this child be subjected to the trials and tribulations we as adults must face? Again the answer is faith. Much like some of the moralisms from the George Burns movies "OH God!" We have to have opposites in our life in order to know the right from the wrong, the pleasant from the cruel. How can we know faith without doubt. Our faith is the result of our doubts. It is those very doubts that give us the strength to look for the answers that give us the faith we need and require to become fulfilled.
I remember some Bible passages and one that really sums a lot of this up is that God has created us in His Image. As a kid I always had this image in my mind of this huge bearded entity in the heavens throwing lightening bolts out and looking really pissed off. But the question that really needs to be asked, answered and understood is: "If we are in his image do we all possess God within us?" And if we do possess him within us then why aren't we more like him in our actions? Why do we inflict such hurt and discord on our fellow man? Why can't we live by his simplest rule of life, "Do unto others . . . ." Such a simple statement with profound implications!As many scholars debate and pontificate their positions and interpretations of the theological teachings of all the worlds religions the simplicity of it all becomes hidden like the forest for the trees.
That is why this Easter, I will go into Church with a renewed spirit of my faith. A faith that has not been reborn, remade, repackaged or reconstituted but a faith that is restored with the fullness of it's meaning. As the Easter lesson tells us that "Christ has died!, Christ has risen!, Christ will come again!" It is that last statement of Christ coming again I really think is something more than the old boy showing up in Times Square on New Years Eve and proclaiming the second coming. I think it is something much deeper and exquisite. Like the finding of Christ within us all. And the day that we all can say and truly, truly without hesitation and doubt that we have him deep within our hearts and souls is the day that he will come again to embrace us in his entirety and save us from all temptation and give us the full eternal life without hate and sin.
Happy Easter to all
I'm not a born again. I'm simply a Christian who is deeply connected to God within myself and I feel that while religion and its teachings should be shared religion is still a deeply spiritual thing that is between ones self and the creator.
Thursday, March 4, 2010
Do we move forward, backward or just slightly to the diagonal?
It began innocent enough a few months ago. I was trying to find a long lost friend who I believe still lives in New Hampshire. My daughter Jennifer suggested I try going on "Face book" and look. Only trouble was you had to join. We'll I'm a real private person who does not want to be in the spotlight. So I reluctantly was dragged kicking and screaming into this new age of connectivity. So into the digital age I dove! "Let's Reach Out and Touch Someone?"
I know in the past few months I've reached out and touched more people from my past than all the years in between. The nice thing about this is I can do this now when I find the time, between bus runs, and in the evening, now that I'm slowing my daily pursuits to a crawl compared to being on the go for 18/7 for the past 30+ years.
Our lives have many parts to them, almost as if they were individual lives of their own. We have our formative years of growing up and gaining our basic education, the college, military or early work years and then coasting until retirement.
Once we left High School the greatest change our worlds, in a sense, happened. Life after High school made us put the past behind us and gave us a chance to explore new directions. Sometimes, though, those new directions were at the great expense of those friends and acquaintances we had growing up.
The bonds of childhood and adolescence are deep yet under appreciated until well into adult hood. By that time a lot of distance has passed and the trail gets cold. Friends also have a way of taking new and different directions. And those paths can parallel, converge, cross or even be right there in plain sight without us knowing.
So now we enter the age of the computer and instant communication. Not saying the old Bell Telephone wasn't instant, I mean, poof, you're there. Marshall McLuhan and his global Village has really come to be. We can instantly reach out and touch someone seemingly worlds away. As an example, just think about dinner time, when that phone rings, and that familiar voice comes on the phone and says in a very thick accent: "Hello, my name is George, and I would like a moment of your time if you please?" "I have a wonderful opportunity I would like to share with you." Well you know just from his accent he ain't from around these parts, let alone his name being George!
For the most part I'm really noncommittal about all this instant juice running around. Kids tuned in and loosing sight of the world around them, people talking in the supermarket or some "clack, clack, clack, click click," sound from a person using their thumbs to communicate. Lost into a parallel dimension of neither sight nor sound, they've entered the "Text-it Zone!" Some day they will awake and find the world has passed them by.
So for me, the only positive thing I have seen from this instant communications age is that the cold trails of lost friends can be uncovered and found again. But this too is not without consequence. Imagine finding out your best friend from school married that "bitch you couldn't stand!" Or some old flame that would make a reunion seem strained at best. So now you have a dilemma. Go forward and connect or unplug and forget about it.
Unlike the face to face meeting we are able, through technology, to still isolate ourselves from those not so pleasant acquaintances of the past and escape without dreging up "Those Feelings." But with the rediscovery of dear friends of the past, we can now do face to face with digital TVs on computers. Oovoo, Skipe, just to name two.
So the race to be connected is really a double edged sword. We can relish in the light of re-found friends yet scorn the invasion of the privacy we once thought absolute. Do we move forward, backward or just slightly to the diagonal?
I know in the past few months I've reached out and touched more people from my past than all the years in between. The nice thing about this is I can do this now when I find the time, between bus runs, and in the evening, now that I'm slowing my daily pursuits to a crawl compared to being on the go for 18/7 for the past 30+ years.
Our lives have many parts to them, almost as if they were individual lives of their own. We have our formative years of growing up and gaining our basic education, the college, military or early work years and then coasting until retirement.
Once we left High School the greatest change our worlds, in a sense, happened. Life after High school made us put the past behind us and gave us a chance to explore new directions. Sometimes, though, those new directions were at the great expense of those friends and acquaintances we had growing up.
The bonds of childhood and adolescence are deep yet under appreciated until well into adult hood. By that time a lot of distance has passed and the trail gets cold. Friends also have a way of taking new and different directions. And those paths can parallel, converge, cross or even be right there in plain sight without us knowing.
So now we enter the age of the computer and instant communication. Not saying the old Bell Telephone wasn't instant, I mean, poof, you're there. Marshall McLuhan and his global Village has really come to be. We can instantly reach out and touch someone seemingly worlds away. As an example, just think about dinner time, when that phone rings, and that familiar voice comes on the phone and says in a very thick accent: "Hello, my name is George, and I would like a moment of your time if you please?" "I have a wonderful opportunity I would like to share with you." Well you know just from his accent he ain't from around these parts, let alone his name being George!
For the most part I'm really noncommittal about all this instant juice running around. Kids tuned in and loosing sight of the world around them, people talking in the supermarket or some "clack, clack, clack, click click," sound from a person using their thumbs to communicate. Lost into a parallel dimension of neither sight nor sound, they've entered the "Text-it Zone!" Some day they will awake and find the world has passed them by.
So for me, the only positive thing I have seen from this instant communications age is that the cold trails of lost friends can be uncovered and found again. But this too is not without consequence. Imagine finding out your best friend from school married that "bitch you couldn't stand!" Or some old flame that would make a reunion seem strained at best. So now you have a dilemma. Go forward and connect or unplug and forget about it.
Unlike the face to face meeting we are able, through technology, to still isolate ourselves from those not so pleasant acquaintances of the past and escape without dreging up "Those Feelings." But with the rediscovery of dear friends of the past, we can now do face to face with digital TVs on computers. Oovoo, Skipe, just to name two.
So the race to be connected is really a double edged sword. We can relish in the light of re-found friends yet scorn the invasion of the privacy we once thought absolute. Do we move forward, backward or just slightly to the diagonal?
Tuesday, March 2, 2010
How Did It Get This Bad? or "Life After Man"
It is sad, troubling and down right scary that, America, the engine of democracy and arsenal of the world has become a nation without a future? You ask, "how could I say we have no future?" Simple, we've just let it happen and like global warming once it's here it's hard to deal with and will take greater effort to overcome.
Jobs, good jobs, any jobs, have just about disappeared from most of our small towns and cities. A new term has been applied to the old manufacturing areas of this country, "Rust Belt." Everything is just rusting away like that old car in the woods, or that lawnmower left behind the shed.
Politicians dam near break their arms trying to pat themselves on their back when they say umpteen thousand jobs have been saved or created! Just great! The new joke is not how many (Ethnic Insert) does it take to screw in a light bulb ..... ? But how many of these new jobs does it take to make a whole one?
So many union jobs, now don't think I'm pro or con on unions, just the facts here, have been lost over the years that the biggest employer of union labor is Government! What that tell you? Once an indicator of the health of our manufacturing prowess the barometer is heading below hurricane pressure and falling fast!
America has been the dream land to many of the worlds people. Our country and its culture have been built on the premise that hard work, ingenuity, a little luck and by the grace of God a person could become something. Immigrant families came to America, and they still do, (although some not within the legal framework) with aspirations for a better life, not only for themselves but also for their children and their children.
Not everyone was destined to become a Rockefeller, Carnegie, or an Astor. But they had the opportunity to dream and aspire to a greater level than what they had elsewhere. They had opportunity! What do we have today? Somewhere along the line the human condition intervened and what was once thought of as success morphed itself into a feeding frenzy of greed.
The broken down empires of Europe got themselves into a urinating contest about 100 years ago and dam near killed each other in the process. They exhausted resources both in men and material for what? To show who had the bigger set? And like spoiled children they couldn't work out a compromise and they went at it again about twenty years later.
America, concentrating on its own growth and emergence as an industrial and potential world player was too far removed from the bedlam that was occurring just three thousand miles away. We had vast untapped natural resources and growth potential. We were the young kid on the block and not an old wheezing rocking chair bound artifact of a former time. We were full of "piss and vinegar!" We had what it took to get the job done. A sleeping giant, some say. But when awoken, the American spirit took that potential to the limit. We supplied the needed resources and materiel to get the job done and overcome the belligerents and quite down the neighborhood.
After the second time around with this nonsense, there was a vacuum, that left the world out of balance. We were faced with a dilemma, we cleaned up the neighborhood with the lesser of two evils only to loose the streets to a new gang of thugs? Or do we step up to the plate and help our our neighbors.
We did what our country's Judeo-Christian heritage taught us to do, help out the less fortunate. It is much like spending our time and money to help rebuild a neighbors store, after a fire, and we let ours go. They had the newer store and everyone went to them. Lower prices to get new customers in the door, fancy state of the art displays and a security system paid for and operated by us while our store lost customer base and was slowly robbed.
Investment money in American business became a system of cut and run. Buy it, gut it and sell it and put the money elsewhere. People in the neighborhood can go across the street to shop.
So over a period of years our side of the street became the low rent district. Nobody wanted to invest here. Businesses were going across the street or down the block and people living on our side of the neighborhood were forced into lower skilled and lower paying jobs. One family incomes became two and then three and sometimes today four or more and yet we're still broke! No money and little to no future. Sure there are jobs going unfilled. But not everyone can be a nurse or a teacher. Where's the painter, plumber, electrician and other skilled craftsman going to come from? Who's around to fix a broken TV or Bike? Just throw it away because it's cheaper to get a new one than fix the old!
We worship the "cause de celebrity" (sic) and pay vast sums of money to bask in their glow and charm. We buy products that we are told we, "Just got to have," because "Joe Cool Beans" says so. We let our banking system become nothing more than a bookmakers dream by running the odds on broken down racehorses. Sooner or later the old nag will win and the payouts will be staggering and break the bank! We talk a good line about "Buying American," yet we scream bloody murder when we see the price!
Our government, once a model for all to imitate, is nothing short today of a legalised Mafia exacting tribute through taxes and and helping their well healed friends. Politicians take the easy road and blame the other guy for the lack of direction and results. Deflect the issue and maybe we won't see the Emperor without his clothes! All the while we wonder how we got here.
How can we really understand this situation without looking inward? We are the masters of our own destiny, not some special interest lobbyist, greedy banker, or self promoting politician. This country was founded on the principals of freedom and self reliance, yet we have succumbed to an almost indentured servitude to these people. We say we abhor them but we are unwilling to refute their being! We are like the sickly addict in the darkened alleyway, looking for that fix to make us forget the problems and are willing to take whatever is thrown our way as a panacea of indulgence rather than take a tonic for what ails us.
We have let the system self perpetuate itself. Our own inaction and self fulfilment has allowed this to happen. The system was suppose to protect us, the people! But we have failed ourselves. We need to start someplace. We need to get beyond the "I'm right and he's wrong" element that divides us. We have started to evolve into that wheezy old codger in the rocking chair from Europe of 100 years ago. Getting into a Urinating contest with each other over no real reason rather than building a sustainable and coexistent future. Are we becoming just like the elected officials that bicker and point at each other and get nothing done? Are we evolving, or should I say we are de-evolving into our own worst nightmare?
Let's get our crap together. Like global warming, we can reverse the trend, but we have to start someplace and the best place is to embrace the notion that we are all God's children, and he being the father, should be pretty pissed off at us! We need to look for what holds us together rather than what drives us apart. Life is to short to keep going this way. If we don't come to grips with our problems and seek a common solution through understanding, compassion and compromise those programs on the History Channel, foretelling "Life After Man" will be true long before we know it!
Jobs, good jobs, any jobs, have just about disappeared from most of our small towns and cities. A new term has been applied to the old manufacturing areas of this country, "Rust Belt." Everything is just rusting away like that old car in the woods, or that lawnmower left behind the shed.
Politicians dam near break their arms trying to pat themselves on their back when they say umpteen thousand jobs have been saved or created! Just great! The new joke is not how many (Ethnic Insert) does it take to screw in a light bulb ..... ? But how many of these new jobs does it take to make a whole one?
So many union jobs, now don't think I'm pro or con on unions, just the facts here, have been lost over the years that the biggest employer of union labor is Government! What that tell you? Once an indicator of the health of our manufacturing prowess the barometer is heading below hurricane pressure and falling fast!
America has been the dream land to many of the worlds people. Our country and its culture have been built on the premise that hard work, ingenuity, a little luck and by the grace of God a person could become something. Immigrant families came to America, and they still do, (although some not within the legal framework) with aspirations for a better life, not only for themselves but also for their children and their children.
Not everyone was destined to become a Rockefeller, Carnegie, or an Astor. But they had the opportunity to dream and aspire to a greater level than what they had elsewhere. They had opportunity! What do we have today? Somewhere along the line the human condition intervened and what was once thought of as success morphed itself into a feeding frenzy of greed.
The broken down empires of Europe got themselves into a urinating contest about 100 years ago and dam near killed each other in the process. They exhausted resources both in men and material for what? To show who had the bigger set? And like spoiled children they couldn't work out a compromise and they went at it again about twenty years later.
America, concentrating on its own growth and emergence as an industrial and potential world player was too far removed from the bedlam that was occurring just three thousand miles away. We had vast untapped natural resources and growth potential. We were the young kid on the block and not an old wheezing rocking chair bound artifact of a former time. We were full of "piss and vinegar!" We had what it took to get the job done. A sleeping giant, some say. But when awoken, the American spirit took that potential to the limit. We supplied the needed resources and materiel to get the job done and overcome the belligerents and quite down the neighborhood.
After the second time around with this nonsense, there was a vacuum, that left the world out of balance. We were faced with a dilemma, we cleaned up the neighborhood with the lesser of two evils only to loose the streets to a new gang of thugs? Or do we step up to the plate and help our our neighbors.
We did what our country's Judeo-Christian heritage taught us to do, help out the less fortunate. It is much like spending our time and money to help rebuild a neighbors store, after a fire, and we let ours go. They had the newer store and everyone went to them. Lower prices to get new customers in the door, fancy state of the art displays and a security system paid for and operated by us while our store lost customer base and was slowly robbed.
Investment money in American business became a system of cut and run. Buy it, gut it and sell it and put the money elsewhere. People in the neighborhood can go across the street to shop.
So over a period of years our side of the street became the low rent district. Nobody wanted to invest here. Businesses were going across the street or down the block and people living on our side of the neighborhood were forced into lower skilled and lower paying jobs. One family incomes became two and then three and sometimes today four or more and yet we're still broke! No money and little to no future. Sure there are jobs going unfilled. But not everyone can be a nurse or a teacher. Where's the painter, plumber, electrician and other skilled craftsman going to come from? Who's around to fix a broken TV or Bike? Just throw it away because it's cheaper to get a new one than fix the old!
We worship the "cause de celebrity" (sic) and pay vast sums of money to bask in their glow and charm. We buy products that we are told we, "Just got to have," because "Joe Cool Beans" says so. We let our banking system become nothing more than a bookmakers dream by running the odds on broken down racehorses. Sooner or later the old nag will win and the payouts will be staggering and break the bank! We talk a good line about "Buying American," yet we scream bloody murder when we see the price!
Our government, once a model for all to imitate, is nothing short today of a legalised Mafia exacting tribute through taxes and and helping their well healed friends. Politicians take the easy road and blame the other guy for the lack of direction and results. Deflect the issue and maybe we won't see the Emperor without his clothes! All the while we wonder how we got here.
How can we really understand this situation without looking inward? We are the masters of our own destiny, not some special interest lobbyist, greedy banker, or self promoting politician. This country was founded on the principals of freedom and self reliance, yet we have succumbed to an almost indentured servitude to these people. We say we abhor them but we are unwilling to refute their being! We are like the sickly addict in the darkened alleyway, looking for that fix to make us forget the problems and are willing to take whatever is thrown our way as a panacea of indulgence rather than take a tonic for what ails us.
We have let the system self perpetuate itself. Our own inaction and self fulfilment has allowed this to happen. The system was suppose to protect us, the people! But we have failed ourselves. We need to start someplace. We need to get beyond the "I'm right and he's wrong" element that divides us. We have started to evolve into that wheezy old codger in the rocking chair from Europe of 100 years ago. Getting into a Urinating contest with each other over no real reason rather than building a sustainable and coexistent future. Are we becoming just like the elected officials that bicker and point at each other and get nothing done? Are we evolving, or should I say we are de-evolving into our own worst nightmare?
Let's get our crap together. Like global warming, we can reverse the trend, but we have to start someplace and the best place is to embrace the notion that we are all God's children, and he being the father, should be pretty pissed off at us! We need to look for what holds us together rather than what drives us apart. Life is to short to keep going this way. If we don't come to grips with our problems and seek a common solution through understanding, compassion and compromise those programs on the History Channel, foretelling "Life After Man" will be true long before we know it!
Monday, March 1, 2010
The Sounds of Silence
As a kid my parents would always walk my sisters and myself a little faster when we encountered people on the sidewalk who talked to themselves. They never said why but as a kid you learn to pick up on weird behavior.
So as an adult I became familiar with those unfortunate souls who would spend their time walking the streets of Kingston talking to either themselves, the public at large, or the imaginary person standing alongside themselves. You got used to who was slightly off balance and those who would or could do some real harm. But being a trash collector for many years, nobody really messed with us. We all sort of passed in the greater scheme of things without firing a shot. Respecting reach others space.
I'm not proud of my behavior twenty or thirty years ago when I would laugh and crack jokes about these folks with my co-workers, for I was uncaring and thoughtless. These poor folks had something that devastated their minds to the point, either through illness or a sudden and horrific trauma or loss that caused this behavior.
But I can't help myself when I'm in a store today and I see people walking up and down the aisles talking to themselves. I begin to think that there's more of them then us. I was beginning to think that maybe somebody opened the door to the loony bin and let all the crazies out. Then I discovered these folks were talking on hands free cell phones. Man what a relief! I was beginning to think everyone was slowly cracking under the stress of everyday life or too much caffeine!
So now my question is, "have we as a society gotten so insecure and initiated to reaching out and touching someone we have to talk and be connected all the time?" What ever happened to private space and time for inner reflection? You know, "Quiet Time." Are we falling apart as a species? Is the only way we can communicate with our fellow man through some implant in our ear and a keyboard in our hands?
I remember when we first moved to Jersey. There was no dial one. You waited for the operator and then you told her the number you wanted to call. Nothing was instant! Today you can almost think and the phone connects you. Are we becoming so dependent on technology that the minute the power goes out we can't function? Are the sounds of silence so overwhelming they hurt our ears? Have we tuned out the world only to hear ourselves? Are we missing out on life? Has the techno-hug replaced the real thing? To me this is a real "Hang Up!"
So as an adult I became familiar with those unfortunate souls who would spend their time walking the streets of Kingston talking to either themselves, the public at large, or the imaginary person standing alongside themselves. You got used to who was slightly off balance and those who would or could do some real harm. But being a trash collector for many years, nobody really messed with us. We all sort of passed in the greater scheme of things without firing a shot. Respecting reach others space.
I'm not proud of my behavior twenty or thirty years ago when I would laugh and crack jokes about these folks with my co-workers, for I was uncaring and thoughtless. These poor folks had something that devastated their minds to the point, either through illness or a sudden and horrific trauma or loss that caused this behavior.
But I can't help myself when I'm in a store today and I see people walking up and down the aisles talking to themselves. I begin to think that there's more of them then us. I was beginning to think that maybe somebody opened the door to the loony bin and let all the crazies out. Then I discovered these folks were talking on hands free cell phones. Man what a relief! I was beginning to think everyone was slowly cracking under the stress of everyday life or too much caffeine!
So now my question is, "have we as a society gotten so insecure and initiated to reaching out and touching someone we have to talk and be connected all the time?" What ever happened to private space and time for inner reflection? You know, "Quiet Time." Are we falling apart as a species? Is the only way we can communicate with our fellow man through some implant in our ear and a keyboard in our hands?
I remember when we first moved to Jersey. There was no dial one. You waited for the operator and then you told her the number you wanted to call. Nothing was instant! Today you can almost think and the phone connects you. Are we becoming so dependent on technology that the minute the power goes out we can't function? Are the sounds of silence so overwhelming they hurt our ears? Have we tuned out the world only to hear ourselves? Are we missing out on life? Has the techno-hug replaced the real thing? To me this is a real "Hang Up!"
Sunday, February 28, 2010
You get what you pay for
Having spent the past thirty five years in the solid waste industry i have really seen the excess of our consumable society and it is sad. I have seen enough food thrown away that could feed thousands. I see memories discarded as if they meant nothing. Toys thrown away because some small part broke, therefore casting a death sentence to the life and enjoyment that toy should have brought the child.
So much of our refuse is packaging. Bottles, jars, boxes, plastic shrink wrap and many other ingenious ways to package an item so it can be sold regardless of it's quality. Glitz and visual sell not quality. Package it so there are less clerks in the store to help you. Expand the profits, sell inferior products, cheap prices, volume sales, drive the quality merchants out of business and deprive the consumer of true choices.
This past Saturday I went shopping to look for a new chair for my room. I was looking to replace a recliner that is virtually brand new but is an accident awaiting to happen. It's unbalanced and when it tipped over twice on my granddaughter I said it"s time to find something better. The sad thing about this is that this chair was bought at a top of the line furniture company, for big bucks and long time quality reputation.
So off to a local furniture retailer. What an education. He informed me that he buys American just for those quality issues and product life. As we talked I could see the quality in his product line but unfortunately there are too many "Discount Places" that sell furniture that is junk.
You know that heavy particle board stuff with the plastic look alike wood grain that is nothing more than contact paper. Furniture that once put together you can't move for fear of breaking. I know I've bought a piece or two over the years. It looks good but put anything other than air on it and it sinks like our economy. Yet we throw it away and go out and buy more of this crap. And within a year or two we do the cycle all over again.
While we are so fixated on buy the cheapest crap on the face of the earth good quality furniture makers are going out of business. There once was a time that furniture was handed down from generation to generation. My dresser belonged to my grandparents and is probably over 100 years old. It is as sound today as it was when it was made. If that was a particle board dresser it would have been replaced 25 or 40 times by now.
So while I was shopping for the chair I did a little comparison shopping. I looked for a five drawer high boy dresser made out of mahogany with dove tailed drawers made from solid wood. I found one for about $700.00. Seven Hundred dollars! You got to be insane. I can get a nice five drawer mahogany looking particle board for $275. About one third the cost. So now do the math. A dresser that costs $700 and lasts for 100 years costs about $7 a year. The particle board dresser, lasting 3 years if lucky costs $91.66 a year. If replaced every 3 years for the $275 price in 100 years it will have cost $9,350, without indexing for inflation and adding in disposal.
Now look at the disposal of that dresser. The particle board dresser probably weighs 75 pounds. Over the next 100 years it would be discarded 34 times at a weight equal to 2,500 pounds. No wonder we're filling up our landfills.
So with just this one item we can save $8,650 in 100 years. We can also save on fossil fuels because good quality furniture can still be made here in the good old USofA and we don't have to ship it halfway round the world on a freighter that burns dinosaurs at a unbelievable rate each day.
Let's get with it people. We got to start thinking smart. We'll save money, landfill space and resources if we buy quality not price.
So much of our refuse is packaging. Bottles, jars, boxes, plastic shrink wrap and many other ingenious ways to package an item so it can be sold regardless of it's quality. Glitz and visual sell not quality. Package it so there are less clerks in the store to help you. Expand the profits, sell inferior products, cheap prices, volume sales, drive the quality merchants out of business and deprive the consumer of true choices.
This past Saturday I went shopping to look for a new chair for my room. I was looking to replace a recliner that is virtually brand new but is an accident awaiting to happen. It's unbalanced and when it tipped over twice on my granddaughter I said it"s time to find something better. The sad thing about this is that this chair was bought at a top of the line furniture company, for big bucks and long time quality reputation.
So off to a local furniture retailer. What an education. He informed me that he buys American just for those quality issues and product life. As we talked I could see the quality in his product line but unfortunately there are too many "Discount Places" that sell furniture that is junk.
You know that heavy particle board stuff with the plastic look alike wood grain that is nothing more than contact paper. Furniture that once put together you can't move for fear of breaking. I know I've bought a piece or two over the years. It looks good but put anything other than air on it and it sinks like our economy. Yet we throw it away and go out and buy more of this crap. And within a year or two we do the cycle all over again.
While we are so fixated on buy the cheapest crap on the face of the earth good quality furniture makers are going out of business. There once was a time that furniture was handed down from generation to generation. My dresser belonged to my grandparents and is probably over 100 years old. It is as sound today as it was when it was made. If that was a particle board dresser it would have been replaced 25 or 40 times by now.
So while I was shopping for the chair I did a little comparison shopping. I looked for a five drawer high boy dresser made out of mahogany with dove tailed drawers made from solid wood. I found one for about $700.00. Seven Hundred dollars! You got to be insane. I can get a nice five drawer mahogany looking particle board for $275. About one third the cost. So now do the math. A dresser that costs $700 and lasts for 100 years costs about $7 a year. The particle board dresser, lasting 3 years if lucky costs $91.66 a year. If replaced every 3 years for the $275 price in 100 years it will have cost $9,350, without indexing for inflation and adding in disposal.
Now look at the disposal of that dresser. The particle board dresser probably weighs 75 pounds. Over the next 100 years it would be discarded 34 times at a weight equal to 2,500 pounds. No wonder we're filling up our landfills.
So with just this one item we can save $8,650 in 100 years. We can also save on fossil fuels because good quality furniture can still be made here in the good old USofA and we don't have to ship it halfway round the world on a freighter that burns dinosaurs at a unbelievable rate each day.
Let's get with it people. We got to start thinking smart. We'll save money, landfill space and resources if we buy quality not price.
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Summer Idyl
Growing up as a kid on New York City's Staten Island I thought I had the world by the tail. Unlike many of my friends we had a small fenced in backyard. In this back yard I had all the different habitats one needed to explore and let imagination go wild. Each day this small crust of earth gave me a new stage to perform my flights of fancy. Not having much else, I had to use my mind to create images and story lines. Usually I played in my little domain by myself.
I had everything you could imagine, right there in my back yard. I had Sherwood Forest or the Jungle Primeval, all within a clutch of lilac bushes. I had the caves of the lost treasure of the sierra madre right under my back porch. The top deck of the porch doubled as the command deck of any ship of the line. Many a manned space mission was commanded from this platform. Flights of fancy included Captain Hook's Frigate and his battles with Peter Pan. I often tried to fly using the clothes line. Going down was OK, but coming up was impossible. So I would drop or fall to the ground and walk back to the porch.
Standing tall and erect on that back porch I could see straight up a neighborhood street to the New York State Armory on Manor Road. This Massive building was built to resemble an old castle. Turrets and narrow slit windows for the archers. Heavy knobed doors. Iron Bars on the windows. It was as real as it got, until a trip to Europe many years later and I saw the real thing.
So the yard on Staten Island served my imagination as a sort of internship at a small backwoods repertory theater group. Learning my craft of imaginary play. Fighting the wrongs of the universe. Until we moved to Jersey.
When we moved to New Jersey in 1961 I was bowled over by the enormity of the woods right out our back door. The woods was so thick and tall, it just about filtered the sunlight out. It was cool on a hot summer day. The entire experience was numbing. It was almost as if my imagination went bonkers on steroids! Think of the adventures, the comedy, the tragedy, and boy there was plenty of that. No longer would my imagination be confined to a postage stamped yard. Here we had acres to explore.
My Dad bought me a canvas army surplus wall tent. We constructed a camp site in the back yard. The camp was far enough from the house so that I knew the house and the protection it provided was close at hand, yet far enough away, that I felt in the wilds. Close enough on those rare nights you would get the ever living crap scared out of you, you could sneak off to safety.
We had a fire pit, a sitting log, a horse hitching post, just no horse. All the comforts of home.
Usually around Memorial Day we would put up the tent and clean up the campsite. We had two old second world war army cots to sleep on. Complete with army blankets and quilts. The tent was dark green and was like an oven in side during the day and a freezer at night. The smell of the water treatment was nauseating and it made everyone who stayed in it smell like the tent. But it was mine! It was my space and I had Divine intervention in my domain.
On summer days off from school I would run down to the tent with my magazines in hand. Mad Magazine, National Geographic, Saturday Evening Post (just loved Norman Rockwell), to name a few. Or I would bring my Hardy Boys books to share their the world. I would lay down on the cot with the blanket and quilt and fuss for a while while I got my pillow just right and then step into another dimension to be swept away with adventure.
As I laid there the entire world disappeared outside. A hypnotic drone of piston driven aircraft would slowly pas over head. The birds in the trees sang, the crows coughed and gagged, and occasionally you would hear the sound of a squirrel running through the underbrush. Harrison Brook, at the edge of the property gurgled and plopped as it flowed to the Atlantic Ocean. It was the quite of my world and I savored it. I would lay on the cot and close my eyes and be taken to worlds unknown by the shear solitude of the day.
During those nine great years that I took place in this summer ritual, I came to experience that what many call the silence of the woods is just as loud as traffic on a city street. Nature is singing their melodious aria to the glory of God its creator.
My roll off business takes me through some of, what I feel, is the most beautiful scenery in the world, the Hudson Valley and the Catskills. Many time's while I'm on the road during the warm weather I will pull over at favorite spots, turn off the motor, roll down the windows, and just listen. Soaking in all that nature has to offer. Reminding me of those Summer Days of my youth.
I had everything you could imagine, right there in my back yard. I had Sherwood Forest or the Jungle Primeval, all within a clutch of lilac bushes. I had the caves of the lost treasure of the sierra madre right under my back porch. The top deck of the porch doubled as the command deck of any ship of the line. Many a manned space mission was commanded from this platform. Flights of fancy included Captain Hook's Frigate and his battles with Peter Pan. I often tried to fly using the clothes line. Going down was OK, but coming up was impossible. So I would drop or fall to the ground and walk back to the porch.
Standing tall and erect on that back porch I could see straight up a neighborhood street to the New York State Armory on Manor Road. This Massive building was built to resemble an old castle. Turrets and narrow slit windows for the archers. Heavy knobed doors. Iron Bars on the windows. It was as real as it got, until a trip to Europe many years later and I saw the real thing.
So the yard on Staten Island served my imagination as a sort of internship at a small backwoods repertory theater group. Learning my craft of imaginary play. Fighting the wrongs of the universe. Until we moved to Jersey.
When we moved to New Jersey in 1961 I was bowled over by the enormity of the woods right out our back door. The woods was so thick and tall, it just about filtered the sunlight out. It was cool on a hot summer day. The entire experience was numbing. It was almost as if my imagination went bonkers on steroids! Think of the adventures, the comedy, the tragedy, and boy there was plenty of that. No longer would my imagination be confined to a postage stamped yard. Here we had acres to explore.
My Dad bought me a canvas army surplus wall tent. We constructed a camp site in the back yard. The camp was far enough from the house so that I knew the house and the protection it provided was close at hand, yet far enough away, that I felt in the wilds. Close enough on those rare nights you would get the ever living crap scared out of you, you could sneak off to safety.
We had a fire pit, a sitting log, a horse hitching post, just no horse. All the comforts of home.
Usually around Memorial Day we would put up the tent and clean up the campsite. We had two old second world war army cots to sleep on. Complete with army blankets and quilts. The tent was dark green and was like an oven in side during the day and a freezer at night. The smell of the water treatment was nauseating and it made everyone who stayed in it smell like the tent. But it was mine! It was my space and I had Divine intervention in my domain.
On summer days off from school I would run down to the tent with my magazines in hand. Mad Magazine, National Geographic, Saturday Evening Post (just loved Norman Rockwell), to name a few. Or I would bring my Hardy Boys books to share their the world. I would lay down on the cot with the blanket and quilt and fuss for a while while I got my pillow just right and then step into another dimension to be swept away with adventure.
As I laid there the entire world disappeared outside. A hypnotic drone of piston driven aircraft would slowly pas over head. The birds in the trees sang, the crows coughed and gagged, and occasionally you would hear the sound of a squirrel running through the underbrush. Harrison Brook, at the edge of the property gurgled and plopped as it flowed to the Atlantic Ocean. It was the quite of my world and I savored it. I would lay on the cot and close my eyes and be taken to worlds unknown by the shear solitude of the day.
During those nine great years that I took place in this summer ritual, I came to experience that what many call the silence of the woods is just as loud as traffic on a city street. Nature is singing their melodious aria to the glory of God its creator.
My roll off business takes me through some of, what I feel, is the most beautiful scenery in the world, the Hudson Valley and the Catskills. Many time's while I'm on the road during the warm weather I will pull over at favorite spots, turn off the motor, roll down the windows, and just listen. Soaking in all that nature has to offer. Reminding me of those Summer Days of my youth.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Points to Ponder (Version 1.1)
Everyday we're faced with the absurd, unbelievable common place notices, warnings, and situations that really make one wonder about the world we live in. I've tried to put together a list of some of these things I notice on the computer, and this is what I've found:
Computer problems are a real drag. I'd love to meet the designers who come up with some of these tidbits. Ever look for something in one of those search boxes and the answer comes back "No Matches Found". But sure as the day is long you know that a "Match" does exist! Try as you might you'll never figure out the proper term to enter to get your answer!
How about when something goes wrong on the computer and that dam box comes up, and no matter what the message is, it ends with a little box that says "OK?" "OK" is your only choice? The world could be falling apart, your hard drive unraveling and turning everything into cyber dust, but your choice is "OK!" What sadistic son of a gun came up with that teaser? I can see some shrimpy geek with a face full of pimples, thick glasses, and bad teeth, sitting in his cubby in a windowless room designing this equivalent of an electronic wedgie. How many times have you sat in front of your computer screaming, "It's NOT OK!!!!!"
Ever have your computer just stop functioning? It's as if the computer has had a good dose of the "deer in the headlights syndrome." It just stares back at you and doesn't even blink. Nothing you do works. It's as if time has stood still in cyberland. Finally you turn off the computer and wait. You turn it back on and it is still staring at you. Unflinching, glaring almost as if it's silently smiling and laughing inside. Then the error box comes on and says, "the program is not responding!" No kidding! I didn't notice. Wow! How insightful! I paid how much for this program and this is the best it can do? Then you sit and wait, some more.
Finally everything disappears and the computer reboots itself and gives you another mind blowing message, "Sending report to Microsoft!" Where do these reports go? Who reads them? The same greasy haired geek with the pocket protector who plays "World of War Craft" as "Ramboman?" Like these guys are going to do something. They keep these little quirks in the programs so they can sell you the next upgrade at big bucks!
While we all toil at our daily endeavors we've got to hand it to those who are "Trying" to make our lives better through technology, they give us plenty to wonder about.
Computer problems are a real drag. I'd love to meet the designers who come up with some of these tidbits. Ever look for something in one of those search boxes and the answer comes back "No Matches Found". But sure as the day is long you know that a "Match" does exist! Try as you might you'll never figure out the proper term to enter to get your answer!
How about when something goes wrong on the computer and that dam box comes up, and no matter what the message is, it ends with a little box that says "OK?" "OK" is your only choice? The world could be falling apart, your hard drive unraveling and turning everything into cyber dust, but your choice is "OK!" What sadistic son of a gun came up with that teaser? I can see some shrimpy geek with a face full of pimples, thick glasses, and bad teeth, sitting in his cubby in a windowless room designing this equivalent of an electronic wedgie. How many times have you sat in front of your computer screaming, "It's NOT OK!!!!!"
Ever have your computer just stop functioning? It's as if the computer has had a good dose of the "deer in the headlights syndrome." It just stares back at you and doesn't even blink. Nothing you do works. It's as if time has stood still in cyberland. Finally you turn off the computer and wait. You turn it back on and it is still staring at you. Unflinching, glaring almost as if it's silently smiling and laughing inside. Then the error box comes on and says, "the program is not responding!" No kidding! I didn't notice. Wow! How insightful! I paid how much for this program and this is the best it can do? Then you sit and wait, some more.
Finally everything disappears and the computer reboots itself and gives you another mind blowing message, "Sending report to Microsoft!" Where do these reports go? Who reads them? The same greasy haired geek with the pocket protector who plays "World of War Craft" as "Ramboman?" Like these guys are going to do something. They keep these little quirks in the programs so they can sell you the next upgrade at big bucks!
While we all toil at our daily endeavors we've got to hand it to those who are "Trying" to make our lives better through technology, they give us plenty to wonder about.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Driving In A Winter Wonderland
For years I either shoveled sidewalks, crosswalks, or plowed the streets of my adopted hometown, Kingston, New York. When I retired from that job in 1989 I still had to plow and shovel each storm, but at my own transfer stations. Year after year, the same old, same old. Cold snow, fierce winds, biting cold and soaking wet clothing. This is the first winter in the past 35 years that I haven't had to be out the door before waking up to plow snow. It is so nice! The constant task of snow removal clouded my vision and I really began to hate winter. All I saw was the "dam white stuff" piling up and taunting me with who'll break down first, the snow storm or me. Most of the time it was the equipment. And it was expensive!
While I'm still not happy about shoveling my driveway or sidewalk, it's not as big a deal as before. I don't have to do it before anything else. When it snows, the bus doesn't run. I stay home, get paid, entertain my granddaughter and shovel at my leisure. The last couple of storms didn't amount to anything so there was nothing to shovel and life was good.
This past weekend I had the chance to take a bus charter up into the heart of the Catskill Mountains to a remote place called Frost Valley. The name itself speaks volumes. I left home on Sunday Morning and really felt a tinge of spring in the air. The sun was out, the sky was blue and it was a gorgeous day. But as I drove further and further up into the mountains the splendor of winter began to appear. Subtle at first but gaining strength in each foot of elevation I climbed. Snow and ice were everywhere. Huge ice water falls hanging like frozen fountains on the rock out crops. Snow hanging on the trees, clinging hard to keep from falling to earth. Snow strategically covering the ice patches on the streams almost like soft pillows amongst the cold running water. Further up the mountains the snow adorned the trees as if it had been magically sprayed on by a Divine hand. It was breathtaking!
On the way home, as I came out of the mountains, I began to see the slow metamorphosis of the white crystal empire turn into a earth toned, water stained like canvas, with sad dirty piles of the six sided fancies we refer to as snow. It wasn't pleasing to look at. It was as if winters beauty had been cast aside like an old rug that was worn out.
Winter can be a depressing time of year but when it displays itself in its full grandeur it ranks right up there with Gods other seasonal displays of nature. The fresh bloom and rebirth of life each spring, the warm, soft lushness to the summer greenery, and the hot blend of tapestry like colors that come each fall. Each of the four seasons speak volumes about the Divine hand of the ultimate artist at work. It's almost like God is showing how each season is not only a display, but a statement. A statement that we need to accept and take unconditionally about the world he has allowed us to rent space on. This is his domain and not ours. By his good grace he has allowed us to live hear and prosper.
Our native forefathers never had the concept of land ownership. They lived with the land. The land gave to them as they treated it. A simple extension of the golden rule. Take nothing more than you need and there will be plenty for all. Generations of mankind lived this way for thousands of years. And now man has to have possession of one of Gods greatest achievements, a living, breathing, and constantly evolving thing we call earth.
So the next time you're out and about and cussing up a storm about the snow coming down on the roads while you're driving, stop look around and accept the beauty that is around you and the ever unfolding diorama that God is setting before us each and every day. It truly is like "Driving in a Winter Wonderland."
While I'm still not happy about shoveling my driveway or sidewalk, it's not as big a deal as before. I don't have to do it before anything else. When it snows, the bus doesn't run. I stay home, get paid, entertain my granddaughter and shovel at my leisure. The last couple of storms didn't amount to anything so there was nothing to shovel and life was good.
This past weekend I had the chance to take a bus charter up into the heart of the Catskill Mountains to a remote place called Frost Valley. The name itself speaks volumes. I left home on Sunday Morning and really felt a tinge of spring in the air. The sun was out, the sky was blue and it was a gorgeous day. But as I drove further and further up into the mountains the splendor of winter began to appear. Subtle at first but gaining strength in each foot of elevation I climbed. Snow and ice were everywhere. Huge ice water falls hanging like frozen fountains on the rock out crops. Snow hanging on the trees, clinging hard to keep from falling to earth. Snow strategically covering the ice patches on the streams almost like soft pillows amongst the cold running water. Further up the mountains the snow adorned the trees as if it had been magically sprayed on by a Divine hand. It was breathtaking!
On the way home, as I came out of the mountains, I began to see the slow metamorphosis of the white crystal empire turn into a earth toned, water stained like canvas, with sad dirty piles of the six sided fancies we refer to as snow. It wasn't pleasing to look at. It was as if winters beauty had been cast aside like an old rug that was worn out.
Winter can be a depressing time of year but when it displays itself in its full grandeur it ranks right up there with Gods other seasonal displays of nature. The fresh bloom and rebirth of life each spring, the warm, soft lushness to the summer greenery, and the hot blend of tapestry like colors that come each fall. Each of the four seasons speak volumes about the Divine hand of the ultimate artist at work. It's almost like God is showing how each season is not only a display, but a statement. A statement that we need to accept and take unconditionally about the world he has allowed us to rent space on. This is his domain and not ours. By his good grace he has allowed us to live hear and prosper.
Our native forefathers never had the concept of land ownership. They lived with the land. The land gave to them as they treated it. A simple extension of the golden rule. Take nothing more than you need and there will be plenty for all. Generations of mankind lived this way for thousands of years. And now man has to have possession of one of Gods greatest achievements, a living, breathing, and constantly evolving thing we call earth.
So the next time you're out and about and cussing up a storm about the snow coming down on the roads while you're driving, stop look around and accept the beauty that is around you and the ever unfolding diorama that God is setting before us each and every day. It truly is like "Driving in a Winter Wonderland."
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Good Morning Dave
Sometimes parallels can be drawn by how life imitates art. Unless you've lived under a rock for the past forty years there have been some amazing breakthroughs in science and technology. The jury is still out on the overall benefit of some but the main consensus is that these advancements are really for the betterment of mankind.
In 1969 man left this planet to explore the moon. The power of the "state of the art computer" they used on those flights today had less calculating capability than today's average cell phone. This is techno-mechanical evolution.
Around that same time period, 1969 - 1970, a movie titled "2001 A Space Odyssey" took the world by storm. Future technology showcased telephones that could transmit live television pictures, meals cooked almost to order immediately, and computers that could interact with man. Look at today's net books, cell phones, laptops etc. We link up and see each other in conversation in real time anywhere in the world.
A few years ago there was a movie titled "I Robot". Taking technology further with robots and computers that could interact with man and preform tasks at a simple request. Man harnessing machine for his own betterment.
Now look at today. We've got a major auto manufacturer who is having more problems with their product than a baker on wedding day with a cake that won't rise.
The manufacturer of these cars says's it's mechanical. Some say it's electronic. Being the skeptic I am I want to lean towards the electronic. The electronic world, while man has studied it and has harnessed it for our own advancement, still doesn't quite know it to the point of it being a fool proof technology?
We hear about it all the time. Technical failure. It's the buzz word that's used to describe all kinds of major screw ups that no one can understand or replicate. It's almost as if technology takes on a life of it's own. Teasing us. Humiliating us. Taunting us to look for an answer that we can't see or understand.
Now what does the movies have to do with any of this? In "2001" the computer has conflicting information fed to it and it just goes hay wire. For as advanced as this computer was supposed to be, it took on a mind of it's own and made judgement calls. A judgement call it arrived at on it's own using the conflicting information man fed to it. That call resulted in a really bad outcome for the crew of that space ship.
In "I Robot" there is an underlying theme about random bits of computer code joining together and forming new codes and actions. Again all of this was done by man not being able to control the technical situation and letting it slip out of his hands like a slimy eel covered in swamp slime.
Today we have vehicles, computers and the alike that have all these electronic gremlins. I know this first hand. One type of electronic gremlin I have come across is while flying in those new generation"fly by wire" European Airbus airliners. I can't recall how many times we were just about to push away from the loading gate when the pilot comes on the public address system and says's he has to shut everything down to reboot the computer! REBOOT the computer? We're not talking about a Windows style freeze up here are we? What do you mean REBOOT? If the hard drive crashed does that mean the plane is next? I really feel safe in a plane where they have to turn it off and kick start it and hope it flys to the next location. I can see in my mind the pilot on the phone calling Geek Squad for instructions. Only to be told they need to bring it in to the nearest location. And bring it in FAST! What if this dam thing stops dead at 35,000 feet? What if the "Blue Screen of Death" appears on landing in the fog over a crowded city? Computer crash takes on a whole new meaning.
So, you ask, what is the common thread in all of this? I believe it is nothing more than a distinct parallel to the choice handed down to man in the Garden of Eden. While the gift of knowledge has it's profound and unmistakable benefits to mankind it also can lead to mans own demise. In our quest for the expansion of our knowledge and technology are we some how lifting the lid on a Pandora"s box of fast held secrets of the universe? In mans quest to go where man has never gone before has he evolved to such a point that his capabilities are such that unlocking these secrets will be kept in check? Is man really capable of harnessing up the unknown and riding it off into the night sky? With the complexity of the advancements we make, how can we evaluate all the variables that exist and potentially coexist or could combine into another entity altogether with it's own mind? Do we really know where we're going? Is our quest for having it before the other guy at any price or to get the product on the shelf and fix it later with new updates really for our betterment? Is this technology driven society no longer being driven by innovation but by greed? How soon will we waking up hearing Hal say, "Good Morning Dave?"
In 1969 man left this planet to explore the moon. The power of the "state of the art computer" they used on those flights today had less calculating capability than today's average cell phone. This is techno-mechanical evolution.
Around that same time period, 1969 - 1970, a movie titled "2001 A Space Odyssey" took the world by storm. Future technology showcased telephones that could transmit live television pictures, meals cooked almost to order immediately, and computers that could interact with man. Look at today's net books, cell phones, laptops etc. We link up and see each other in conversation in real time anywhere in the world.
A few years ago there was a movie titled "I Robot". Taking technology further with robots and computers that could interact with man and preform tasks at a simple request. Man harnessing machine for his own betterment.
Now look at today. We've got a major auto manufacturer who is having more problems with their product than a baker on wedding day with a cake that won't rise.
The manufacturer of these cars says's it's mechanical. Some say it's electronic. Being the skeptic I am I want to lean towards the electronic. The electronic world, while man has studied it and has harnessed it for our own advancement, still doesn't quite know it to the point of it being a fool proof technology?
We hear about it all the time. Technical failure. It's the buzz word that's used to describe all kinds of major screw ups that no one can understand or replicate. It's almost as if technology takes on a life of it's own. Teasing us. Humiliating us. Taunting us to look for an answer that we can't see or understand.
Now what does the movies have to do with any of this? In "2001" the computer has conflicting information fed to it and it just goes hay wire. For as advanced as this computer was supposed to be, it took on a mind of it's own and made judgement calls. A judgement call it arrived at on it's own using the conflicting information man fed to it. That call resulted in a really bad outcome for the crew of that space ship.
In "I Robot" there is an underlying theme about random bits of computer code joining together and forming new codes and actions. Again all of this was done by man not being able to control the technical situation and letting it slip out of his hands like a slimy eel covered in swamp slime.
Today we have vehicles, computers and the alike that have all these electronic gremlins. I know this first hand. One type of electronic gremlin I have come across is while flying in those new generation"fly by wire" European Airbus airliners. I can't recall how many times we were just about to push away from the loading gate when the pilot comes on the public address system and says's he has to shut everything down to reboot the computer! REBOOT the computer? We're not talking about a Windows style freeze up here are we? What do you mean REBOOT? If the hard drive crashed does that mean the plane is next? I really feel safe in a plane where they have to turn it off and kick start it and hope it flys to the next location. I can see in my mind the pilot on the phone calling Geek Squad for instructions. Only to be told they need to bring it in to the nearest location. And bring it in FAST! What if this dam thing stops dead at 35,000 feet? What if the "Blue Screen of Death" appears on landing in the fog over a crowded city? Computer crash takes on a whole new meaning.
So, you ask, what is the common thread in all of this? I believe it is nothing more than a distinct parallel to the choice handed down to man in the Garden of Eden. While the gift of knowledge has it's profound and unmistakable benefits to mankind it also can lead to mans own demise. In our quest for the expansion of our knowledge and technology are we some how lifting the lid on a Pandora"s box of fast held secrets of the universe? In mans quest to go where man has never gone before has he evolved to such a point that his capabilities are such that unlocking these secrets will be kept in check? Is man really capable of harnessing up the unknown and riding it off into the night sky? With the complexity of the advancements we make, how can we evaluate all the variables that exist and potentially coexist or could combine into another entity altogether with it's own mind? Do we really know where we're going? Is our quest for having it before the other guy at any price or to get the product on the shelf and fix it later with new updates really for our betterment? Is this technology driven society no longer being driven by innovation but by greed? How soon will we waking up hearing Hal say, "Good Morning Dave?"
Friday, February 19, 2010
Southern Politeness!
I wish I could take credit for this one but I can't. But I really feel it sums up a lot of feelings. Imagine this conversation taking place at Atlanta's Hartsfield Airport.
You gotta love this one even if you've never lived in the South. Some of you will enjoy this more than others.... Southerners can be so polite!
Atlanta Tower: "Saudi Air 511 -- You are cleared to land on runway 9R.
" Saudi Air: "Thank you Atlanta. Acknowledge cleared to land on infidel's runway 9R - Allah be Praised."
Atlanta Tower: "Iran Air 711 --You are cleared to land westbound on runway 9L.
"Iran Air: "Thank you Atlanta ATC. We are cleared to land on infidel's runway 9L. -Allah is Great."
Pause...
Saudi Air: ATLANTA TOWER- ATLANTA TOWER !"
Atlanta Tower: "Go ahead Saudi Air 511."
Saudi Air: "YOU HAVE CLEARED BOTH OUR AIRCRAFTS FOR THE SAME RUNWAY GOING IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS. WE ARE ON A COLLISION COURSE. INSTRUCTIONS, PLEASE!"
Atlanta Tower: "Well bless your hearts. And praise Jesus. Y'all go on ahead now and tell Allah "hi" for us."
You got to hand it to the Southerners, they sure are polite!
You gotta love this one even if you've never lived in the South. Some of you will enjoy this more than others.... Southerners can be so polite!
Atlanta Tower: "Saudi Air 511 -- You are cleared to land on runway 9R.
" Saudi Air: "Thank you Atlanta. Acknowledge cleared to land on infidel's runway 9R - Allah be Praised."
Atlanta Tower: "Iran Air 711 --You are cleared to land westbound on runway 9L.
"Iran Air: "Thank you Atlanta ATC. We are cleared to land on infidel's runway 9L. -Allah is Great."
Pause...
Saudi Air: ATLANTA TOWER- ATLANTA TOWER !"
Atlanta Tower: "Go ahead Saudi Air 511."
Saudi Air: "YOU HAVE CLEARED BOTH OUR AIRCRAFTS FOR THE SAME RUNWAY GOING IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS. WE ARE ON A COLLISION COURSE. INSTRUCTIONS, PLEASE!"
Atlanta Tower: "Well bless your hearts. And praise Jesus. Y'all go on ahead now and tell Allah "hi" for us."
You got to hand it to the Southerners, they sure are polite!
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Life in the fast lane
I truly wonder what's on the mind of some drivers today when they get behind the wheel. Having been a commercial driver for the last 30 some years I get a daily dose of "ZOOM, ZOOM!" Whether I'm driving the roll off truck or the school bus I can't believe how people cut in front, pass on double yellow lines or run stop signs just to get in front of me. It's almost like something as big as what I drive is invisible. If the truth be told I'd rather have the larger vehicle in front of me rather than behind. Ask Harry Chapin about being in front of a big rig!
Driving as long and as many miles as I have I started a very informal unscientific study of drivers and their habits.
Our law enforcement and legislative initiatives have focused on cell phone and texting as dangerous habits and have implemented laws accordingly. But did you ever see a cop zipping right past as he's talking on a cell phone?
High school kids are another big problem. First, they sit so low in their seats they have to look through the steering wheel to see the road. Next they've got a sound system and muffler combination that far exceed the value of their car, and exceeding noise pollution standards. And to top it off the music, (relative term and definition) blaring away with a rhythmic beat that could be used in an emergency as a defibrillator for a heart attack victim.
Old people are great! Driving at twenty miles an hour, regardless of the posted speed limit, they'll stop dead in the road for no reason. They'll run for miles with a signal light blinking and then turn the opposite direction. Blow your horn at them and they wave, usually one finger at a time.
The morning commuter. Now here's how to multitask! They drive like NASCAR and read the paper, drink their coffee, eat a bowl of cereal, and fix their tie all while taking on a cell phone as they changes lanes at breakneck speed.
And now is my favorite, the fat driver! No matter what they drive they all seem to have the same fear of trying to pass through a tight situation. (This is actually where my observations started.) While driving through city traffic I noticed cars that would stop in a close quarter situation and wait for a break. If none were forthcoming the car would literally inch along until the obstruction was passed. Plenty of room on each side to spare. I literally have driven a Mack Truck through those situations. Skinny people just drive right through.
The lead foot is amazing. Passing and cutting off people as they tear up the road in their quest to be first at the red light! It doesn't get any better.
Keep going Detroit, "life in the fast lane!"
Driving as long and as many miles as I have I started a very informal unscientific study of drivers and their habits.
Our law enforcement and legislative initiatives have focused on cell phone and texting as dangerous habits and have implemented laws accordingly. But did you ever see a cop zipping right past as he's talking on a cell phone?
High school kids are another big problem. First, they sit so low in their seats they have to look through the steering wheel to see the road. Next they've got a sound system and muffler combination that far exceed the value of their car, and exceeding noise pollution standards. And to top it off the music, (relative term and definition) blaring away with a rhythmic beat that could be used in an emergency as a defibrillator for a heart attack victim.
Old people are great! Driving at twenty miles an hour, regardless of the posted speed limit, they'll stop dead in the road for no reason. They'll run for miles with a signal light blinking and then turn the opposite direction. Blow your horn at them and they wave, usually one finger at a time.
The morning commuter. Now here's how to multitask! They drive like NASCAR and read the paper, drink their coffee, eat a bowl of cereal, and fix their tie all while taking on a cell phone as they changes lanes at breakneck speed.
And now is my favorite, the fat driver! No matter what they drive they all seem to have the same fear of trying to pass through a tight situation. (This is actually where my observations started.) While driving through city traffic I noticed cars that would stop in a close quarter situation and wait for a break. If none were forthcoming the car would literally inch along until the obstruction was passed. Plenty of room on each side to spare. I literally have driven a Mack Truck through those situations. Skinny people just drive right through.
The lead foot is amazing. Passing and cutting off people as they tear up the road in their quest to be first at the red light! It doesn't get any better.
Keep going Detroit, "life in the fast lane!"
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
State of the Union
It doesn't take too much effort or research to see the State of the Union. It's bad. The president gets up and talks his line of tightly scripted spin. The members of congress applaud when required. (Is there really an applause sign hanging in the house chambers?) The presidents party smiles and back slaps each other while the opposition party sits sour faced and silent.
When it's all said and done has anything really changed? For all their talk, have any more jobs been created? Are any families at risk, been helped? Has the environment been improved? Has the quality of life improved? Is Bi-partisanship been established for the common good?
The foundation of our country and as well our society was established by the majority seeking the common good for all. The common good seems to be missing. We are by rights the most liberal nation in the world when it comes to allowing the rights of the individual to trump those of the many. Yet our elected officials have taken this simple precept and bastardized it to the point that the rights of the many are trumped by the needs of the powerful and rich.
Our capitalist society is great. I, as a business owner see and realize the opportunities we have available to anyone living here. A person can take an idea, dream or a desire and make it a going proposition. Hard work, an ethical moral code and one could reap riches far beyond their wildest dreams. Also circumstances could turn that prosperity the other way and all is lost. That is the risk. But the rewards should outweigh the risk. Because the lessons learned from failure or from success always presents opportunities. The opportunity is there for all.
Yet for all the failures and success there is an element to this equation that is seriously overlooked. As I see it, the missing element is a moral component in the capitalism equation.
Moral capitalism is actually a way of doing business. A theorem not taught in business schools. Businesses used to stay put. They would grow and prosper in an area creating jobs for the local residents. The employees built the company through their hard work and dedication. In return the company provided jobs and a lively hood for all concerned. Sometime conditions caused businesses to change location, but they stayed within the country. They had a loyal customer base, employees and products they willingly put their name on. Today everyone wants to turn a buck fast.
Our culture has degraded to the point where the money people look to buy a healthy company, gut it, sell off the profitable parts, move the assets to some off shore location that can produce a similar product for less money at a fraction of the cost. Fast money. No hard work, no work ethic, no pride in the product. Just line our pockets and get out of the way, bring us the next victim.
Not only has the moral element left our business segment of society but the same greed and shortsightedness has infested our government. Right, left, republican or democrat, they all have put the peoples business up for sale to the highest bidder. Campaign, raise funds, make alliances, protect their elected office at all costs, just so they can be re-elected. The public be dammed!
The fundamentals of our government is sound but the mechanics are broken. We need to seek out people for our elected positions that are willing to listen, are responsible and more than accommodating to seek a solution rather than drawing a line in the sand and digging in their heals.
Partisanship, special interests, and the ultimate goal to keep the "Party In Power" is the ruination of the great American Experiment in democracy. If we as a society don't wake up and start the change now, even one step at a time, we will languish and become just an footnote to history. The Union is in a sad State. We need to cheer it up!
When it's all said and done has anything really changed? For all their talk, have any more jobs been created? Are any families at risk, been helped? Has the environment been improved? Has the quality of life improved? Is Bi-partisanship been established for the common good?
The foundation of our country and as well our society was established by the majority seeking the common good for all. The common good seems to be missing. We are by rights the most liberal nation in the world when it comes to allowing the rights of the individual to trump those of the many. Yet our elected officials have taken this simple precept and bastardized it to the point that the rights of the many are trumped by the needs of the powerful and rich.
Our capitalist society is great. I, as a business owner see and realize the opportunities we have available to anyone living here. A person can take an idea, dream or a desire and make it a going proposition. Hard work, an ethical moral code and one could reap riches far beyond their wildest dreams. Also circumstances could turn that prosperity the other way and all is lost. That is the risk. But the rewards should outweigh the risk. Because the lessons learned from failure or from success always presents opportunities. The opportunity is there for all.
Yet for all the failures and success there is an element to this equation that is seriously overlooked. As I see it, the missing element is a moral component in the capitalism equation.
Moral capitalism is actually a way of doing business. A theorem not taught in business schools. Businesses used to stay put. They would grow and prosper in an area creating jobs for the local residents. The employees built the company through their hard work and dedication. In return the company provided jobs and a lively hood for all concerned. Sometime conditions caused businesses to change location, but they stayed within the country. They had a loyal customer base, employees and products they willingly put their name on. Today everyone wants to turn a buck fast.
Our culture has degraded to the point where the money people look to buy a healthy company, gut it, sell off the profitable parts, move the assets to some off shore location that can produce a similar product for less money at a fraction of the cost. Fast money. No hard work, no work ethic, no pride in the product. Just line our pockets and get out of the way, bring us the next victim.
Not only has the moral element left our business segment of society but the same greed and shortsightedness has infested our government. Right, left, republican or democrat, they all have put the peoples business up for sale to the highest bidder. Campaign, raise funds, make alliances, protect their elected office at all costs, just so they can be re-elected. The public be dammed!
The fundamentals of our government is sound but the mechanics are broken. We need to seek out people for our elected positions that are willing to listen, are responsible and more than accommodating to seek a solution rather than drawing a line in the sand and digging in their heals.
Partisanship, special interests, and the ultimate goal to keep the "Party In Power" is the ruination of the great American Experiment in democracy. If we as a society don't wake up and start the change now, even one step at a time, we will languish and become just an footnote to history. The Union is in a sad State. We need to cheer it up!
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
The Night Sky Sun
As some of you may have noticed, in previous writings, I have a fascination with other worldly bodies, in the astrological sense. I often take my telescope out and look heavenward. I don't know what I'm looking for but there is this intense pull, telling me the answer is out there. The answer to what I don't know. The question I don't know either. It's just there.
I enjoy sunrise and sunsets and the pallet of soft warm colors they produce when they illuminate this world. My other fascination is with the moon. The number of sunrises and sunsets can't compare to the number of slides I have of the moon.
The moon I often reefer to as the "Night Sky Sun." Just think about that. When the moon is better than three quarters full the light it casts on the night time surroundings gives an almost surreal look. Unfortunately the moon's light is not soft and warm like the rising or setting sun. It is a cooler light, which seems welcome on a hot summer night and even colder on a wintry snow scape. One poet / songwriter referred to the moon as a "cold hearted orb, that rules the night . . . ", and others have referenced the cold sterile illumination that is cast from the night sky. The full moon often brings forboding and a sense of the paranormal. While all of this may have some truth, I still see something else. Something deeper. The moon, in all of it's night time splendor, can often hide right in plain sight.
Sometimes it's up early in the afternoon, while the sun is hard at work, burning away trying to get a head start on the night. Other times it stays around long after the sun has risen in the morning as a stoic reminder to see that the transition between night and day is complete. Some of my favorite views are when the moon is just a fragile sliver hanging on the cusp of the day between dark and twilight. And while it is suspended, often near the western horizon the remainder of the dark moon is silhouetted in the transitional sky.
But somewhere between that slim crescent and the first quarter the true mystery of the universe is exposed. A very simple observation. No need for astrophysicists, rocket scientists or any of the collective acedemia. An observation so simple a child could see it and understand. And it is in this simplistic view that the true beauty is reviealed.
The illuminated part of the moon looks very much like a thumb nail. The white of the moons reflection is the part of the nail above the quick and the remainder the rest of the nail. Can this simple observation mean that our world is truly held in the hands of God and this is one of the few times he shows himself to us? Seeing the beauty and the majesty of our earth in the simplest of forms proves that a greater power is overseeing the entire process. A process that we corrupt, take for granted and over complicate just to serve ourselves? Is this how we define ourselves?
Has our quest for the unknown taken us so far afield we fail to see the simplest things? It is true that we cannot see the forest for the trees? I can see the tree, and it is good. I see the sunrise and it's promise of a new day. I see the sunset and know that the day is growing to a close. And I see the Night Sky Sun and know that we are truly in his hands no matter how we try to screw it up. Shine on Harvest Moon, Shine On!
I enjoy sunrise and sunsets and the pallet of soft warm colors they produce when they illuminate this world. My other fascination is with the moon. The number of sunrises and sunsets can't compare to the number of slides I have of the moon.
The moon I often reefer to as the "Night Sky Sun." Just think about that. When the moon is better than three quarters full the light it casts on the night time surroundings gives an almost surreal look. Unfortunately the moon's light is not soft and warm like the rising or setting sun. It is a cooler light, which seems welcome on a hot summer night and even colder on a wintry snow scape. One poet / songwriter referred to the moon as a "cold hearted orb, that rules the night . . . ", and others have referenced the cold sterile illumination that is cast from the night sky. The full moon often brings forboding and a sense of the paranormal. While all of this may have some truth, I still see something else. Something deeper. The moon, in all of it's night time splendor, can often hide right in plain sight.
Sometimes it's up early in the afternoon, while the sun is hard at work, burning away trying to get a head start on the night. Other times it stays around long after the sun has risen in the morning as a stoic reminder to see that the transition between night and day is complete. Some of my favorite views are when the moon is just a fragile sliver hanging on the cusp of the day between dark and twilight. And while it is suspended, often near the western horizon the remainder of the dark moon is silhouetted in the transitional sky.
But somewhere between that slim crescent and the first quarter the true mystery of the universe is exposed. A very simple observation. No need for astrophysicists, rocket scientists or any of the collective acedemia. An observation so simple a child could see it and understand. And it is in this simplistic view that the true beauty is reviealed.
The illuminated part of the moon looks very much like a thumb nail. The white of the moons reflection is the part of the nail above the quick and the remainder the rest of the nail. Can this simple observation mean that our world is truly held in the hands of God and this is one of the few times he shows himself to us? Seeing the beauty and the majesty of our earth in the simplest of forms proves that a greater power is overseeing the entire process. A process that we corrupt, take for granted and over complicate just to serve ourselves? Is this how we define ourselves?
Has our quest for the unknown taken us so far afield we fail to see the simplest things? It is true that we cannot see the forest for the trees? I can see the tree, and it is good. I see the sunrise and it's promise of a new day. I see the sunset and know that the day is growing to a close. And I see the Night Sky Sun and know that we are truly in his hands no matter how we try to screw it up. Shine on Harvest Moon, Shine On!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Beauty is All Around
I always seem to enjoy the morning sunrise and evening sunset. God knows I've got hundreds of pictures of this daily occurrence. It's just something soothing about those times of day.
Like this morning, here we are in the throes of winter and as the sun inches itself above the eastern horizon its soft, warm reds and pinks slowly massage the day to life. As I drove across downtown Kingston the warm golden glow of the early morning light reflected off of the stoic spires of the old downtown churches. Those silent sentinels proclaiming their allegiance to their heavenly aspirations.
Embellishments adorning the tops of these towers of faith reflect more than the morning sunlight. They are a testament to the faith of the congregations and as a personal note a capping signature of the individual architect and their individual faith.
While many of these grand old buildings no longer serve the faithful masses they stand as a testament to the faith of our ancestors. Those who built these houses of God to give thanks for the opportunities they were given in life and the promises of the future. A place where they asked for forgiveness for their indiscretions. Celebrated in the joys of the newborn and the sadness of the passing of friends and family. A continuous circle of life that goes unbroken to this day.
So when I see these churches, in the soft warm glow of the early morning, I feel assured that there is a renewed hope for all of us. While the mystery of life continues around us it is beautiful and comforting that God allows us a brief glimpse into the beauty of his handiwork each day. However brief and fleeting it is a moment, a sign, and renewal of faith in the future.
And at the end of the day the scene is repeated with a slightly different message. The beauty of the day folds softly into the evening and the renewal of faith is assured knowing that as we slumber through the darkness of the night His abiding presence is nearby watching and protecting. And in the morning it repeats itself.
The beauty of life is here, we just need to open our eyes and catch and cherish it!
Like this morning, here we are in the throes of winter and as the sun inches itself above the eastern horizon its soft, warm reds and pinks slowly massage the day to life. As I drove across downtown Kingston the warm golden glow of the early morning light reflected off of the stoic spires of the old downtown churches. Those silent sentinels proclaiming their allegiance to their heavenly aspirations.
Embellishments adorning the tops of these towers of faith reflect more than the morning sunlight. They are a testament to the faith of the congregations and as a personal note a capping signature of the individual architect and their individual faith.
While many of these grand old buildings no longer serve the faithful masses they stand as a testament to the faith of our ancestors. Those who built these houses of God to give thanks for the opportunities they were given in life and the promises of the future. A place where they asked for forgiveness for their indiscretions. Celebrated in the joys of the newborn and the sadness of the passing of friends and family. A continuous circle of life that goes unbroken to this day.
So when I see these churches, in the soft warm glow of the early morning, I feel assured that there is a renewed hope for all of us. While the mystery of life continues around us it is beautiful and comforting that God allows us a brief glimpse into the beauty of his handiwork each day. However brief and fleeting it is a moment, a sign, and renewal of faith in the future.
And at the end of the day the scene is repeated with a slightly different message. The beauty of the day folds softly into the evening and the renewal of faith is assured knowing that as we slumber through the darkness of the night His abiding presence is nearby watching and protecting. And in the morning it repeats itself.
The beauty of life is here, we just need to open our eyes and catch and cherish it!
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Excelsior You Fathead! or Flick Lives!
I've wanted to share this story for many years and just never got around to it. This past Christmas break while I was taking care of my Emily we watched a movie that brought this all back to life.
In the early 1960's my folks packed up the ole Oldsmobile and we moved from New York City to Basking Ridge, NJ. My parents, wanting more for their kids than a torn postage stamp size backyard, looked west and like many others trekked over the Goethals Bridge to the Garden State. The great exodus of the middle class from the city to the vast undeveloped wilderness was on.
We spent many a weekend looking for the right house and the right location. It was as if Goldilocks was our tour guide. This house is too small, too old, not bright enough, too exposed, too close to the neighbors, too far away from the neighbors. Finally they found nirvana. It was years before the Monkees would parody the existence of the newly minted suburbanite with the song "Pleasant Valley Sunday", but it was true. The local rock group trying hard to learn their songs, charcoal burning everywhere, and the weekend squire coming out to mow his lawn. In our case it was to throw the rocks around the neighborhood with the lawnmower as no grass could grow on the premium top soil my dad bought for the yard.
So once I had settled into my new room, much bigger than the over sized closet I had in New York, I still had my little world, except it was much bigger. As long as I could remember I had an old Philco radio. This thing would pull in the moon, the stars and the planets as well as the New York Radio Stations. New York seemed a world away now.
Night time was really special. My parents would send me off to bed around ten. I would close my door so as to feel comfy in my warren. I had a pair of earphones from a crystal radio kit I tried to make in boy scouts, but could never get it to work. There I would be with this big old philco in its brownish Bakelite case looking to explore the world like Lowell Thomas, all from the comfort of my bedroom. I would turn it on shortly after I was in my room. I kept the volume to a inaudible level as the radio tubes warmed up. The transistor was something new and I wasn't far enough up the food chain to have one. So not wanting to let my parents know what I was doing, once the radio warmed up, I plugged in the head phones to insure they didn't hear me. Then I would adjust the volume. Little did I know my folks could tell in an instant when I turned on the radio because of the high pitched whistle one of the tubes would make and the interference it caused on the television set.
The little dial light seemed to light up my whole room like times square. I could read my comics or Hardy Boys books by the light. My cell phone today lights up a lot better.
There I would sit, at my desk, bathed in the warm glow of the radio dial. Feeling comfortable and secure as the outside world cascaded into my room each night. Twisting the various combination of knobs to listen to music, news or anything I found interesting would have me spell bound. Then I hit upon a radio station that would be forever linked in my mind and lots of my fellow school mates, WOR radio, 710AM.
Now WOR was the station my father listened to each morning. He'd walk between his bedroom and the bathroom with his six transistor Panasonic focused on every word from "John Grambling". I was a kid. How could I have ever hooked onto the same radio station my dad liked? But this was different! This was cool. This was the Shep!
From the very first notes of the bugles to the rousing ending I was hooked on the theme music. Those thunderous tones brought a level of anticipation of what would be experienced in the next 45 minutes. Johan Strauss and his "Bahn Frei Polka" would awaken anyone who was drifting off to sleep just as the show came on at 11:15 each night.
Now how does this all relate to watching a movie with my Emily you may ask? Well the Shep, as he was fondly referred to, was none other than Jean Shepard, the Humorist who's collection of short stories about his childhood were the basis for the "Christmas Story Movie." Many a night I would sit transfixed listening to the stories about life in the Jersey suburbs, the antics of Flick, Schwartz, Miss Shields, his father and the life growing up in Hommand, Indiana.
These stories, told on the radio with background mood music or Shep playing the Jews Harp, expanded our intellect as well as our imagination. We weren't given some movie directors vision of the subject matter. Something cut and edited to fit the format and the time allowed. We were free to see the stories in our own way in our minds. It was a mind growing experience.
As I moved on in life I had the opportunity to drag my wife to several of Shep's live performances. There he would take us into that netherworld of his reflections on his experiences in life and guide us through them like a tour guide through a museum. We shared in his triumphs and tragedy. The pathos of life. It was pure entertainment without any of the gimmicks.
But life has a way of taking some things you cherish and placing them on the shelf of the closet and soon they're forgotten. Every now and again you might remember some little tidbit and have a moment and that fondness of the past tugs at you heart and mind, taking you to another place and time you so cherished and loved.
I bought the books that Shep wrote over the years and even passed them on to my daughters. But as well as a good book does in telling a story there's something to be said about the author telling it in the first person. Shep does this so well as the narrator of "The Christmas Story" that if you closed your eyes you would think is 11:15 pm all over again. It's too bad that he is no longer with us today. He is missed by his legion of fans. As the cult of hardcore fans from the 60's would say, "Flick Lives!"
In the early 1960's my folks packed up the ole Oldsmobile and we moved from New York City to Basking Ridge, NJ. My parents, wanting more for their kids than a torn postage stamp size backyard, looked west and like many others trekked over the Goethals Bridge to the Garden State. The great exodus of the middle class from the city to the vast undeveloped wilderness was on.
We spent many a weekend looking for the right house and the right location. It was as if Goldilocks was our tour guide. This house is too small, too old, not bright enough, too exposed, too close to the neighbors, too far away from the neighbors. Finally they found nirvana. It was years before the Monkees would parody the existence of the newly minted suburbanite with the song "Pleasant Valley Sunday", but it was true. The local rock group trying hard to learn their songs, charcoal burning everywhere, and the weekend squire coming out to mow his lawn. In our case it was to throw the rocks around the neighborhood with the lawnmower as no grass could grow on the premium top soil my dad bought for the yard.
So once I had settled into my new room, much bigger than the over sized closet I had in New York, I still had my little world, except it was much bigger. As long as I could remember I had an old Philco radio. This thing would pull in the moon, the stars and the planets as well as the New York Radio Stations. New York seemed a world away now.
Night time was really special. My parents would send me off to bed around ten. I would close my door so as to feel comfy in my warren. I had a pair of earphones from a crystal radio kit I tried to make in boy scouts, but could never get it to work. There I would be with this big old philco in its brownish Bakelite case looking to explore the world like Lowell Thomas, all from the comfort of my bedroom. I would turn it on shortly after I was in my room. I kept the volume to a inaudible level as the radio tubes warmed up. The transistor was something new and I wasn't far enough up the food chain to have one. So not wanting to let my parents know what I was doing, once the radio warmed up, I plugged in the head phones to insure they didn't hear me. Then I would adjust the volume. Little did I know my folks could tell in an instant when I turned on the radio because of the high pitched whistle one of the tubes would make and the interference it caused on the television set.
The little dial light seemed to light up my whole room like times square. I could read my comics or Hardy Boys books by the light. My cell phone today lights up a lot better.
There I would sit, at my desk, bathed in the warm glow of the radio dial. Feeling comfortable and secure as the outside world cascaded into my room each night. Twisting the various combination of knobs to listen to music, news or anything I found interesting would have me spell bound. Then I hit upon a radio station that would be forever linked in my mind and lots of my fellow school mates, WOR radio, 710AM.
Now WOR was the station my father listened to each morning. He'd walk between his bedroom and the bathroom with his six transistor Panasonic focused on every word from "John Grambling". I was a kid. How could I have ever hooked onto the same radio station my dad liked? But this was different! This was cool. This was the Shep!
From the very first notes of the bugles to the rousing ending I was hooked on the theme music. Those thunderous tones brought a level of anticipation of what would be experienced in the next 45 minutes. Johan Strauss and his "Bahn Frei Polka" would awaken anyone who was drifting off to sleep just as the show came on at 11:15 each night.
Now how does this all relate to watching a movie with my Emily you may ask? Well the Shep, as he was fondly referred to, was none other than Jean Shepard, the Humorist who's collection of short stories about his childhood were the basis for the "Christmas Story Movie." Many a night I would sit transfixed listening to the stories about life in the Jersey suburbs, the antics of Flick, Schwartz, Miss Shields, his father and the life growing up in Hommand, Indiana.
These stories, told on the radio with background mood music or Shep playing the Jews Harp, expanded our intellect as well as our imagination. We weren't given some movie directors vision of the subject matter. Something cut and edited to fit the format and the time allowed. We were free to see the stories in our own way in our minds. It was a mind growing experience.
As I moved on in life I had the opportunity to drag my wife to several of Shep's live performances. There he would take us into that netherworld of his reflections on his experiences in life and guide us through them like a tour guide through a museum. We shared in his triumphs and tragedy. The pathos of life. It was pure entertainment without any of the gimmicks.
But life has a way of taking some things you cherish and placing them on the shelf of the closet and soon they're forgotten. Every now and again you might remember some little tidbit and have a moment and that fondness of the past tugs at you heart and mind, taking you to another place and time you so cherished and loved.
I bought the books that Shep wrote over the years and even passed them on to my daughters. But as well as a good book does in telling a story there's something to be said about the author telling it in the first person. Shep does this so well as the narrator of "The Christmas Story" that if you closed your eyes you would think is 11:15 pm all over again. It's too bad that he is no longer with us today. He is missed by his legion of fans. As the cult of hardcore fans from the 60's would say, "Flick Lives!"
Thanks for Being There
Everyday we place the safety of our lives in the hands of professionals. Firefighters, Police, Emergency Medical Personnel and the Military just to name a few. Some of these people are paid for their services and others are volunteers. Whether they are paid or volunteer they are professional just the same. We go about our daily existence without giving our safety a second thought if these professionals are going to be there when we call for help.
Our public safety professionals are, in my opinion, some of the best trained in the world. When duty calls they respond, anytime, any day any where in the world. Witness just some recent events in our history. The world trade center disaster for example. Volunteers and paid professionals put their lives on hold and joined with the emergency workers from NYC to try helping and rescue those affected by the terror imported on our shores. Katrina victims were given the same accord. These professionals put the protection of others above themselves. Nothing puts this into a greater perspective than a visit to the New York City Fireman's Museum. There, displays clearly show the ultimate sacrifice that 343 members of FDNY gave that beautiful late summer day in 2001.
For the entire life of our country we have continued to send our military into harms way. Our citizen leaders expect and receive the ultimate commitment from these professionals. Many times the ultimate sacrifice is the result along with pain and suffering too intense for most of us to think about.
We as a society owe a debit that can never be repaid to these professionals. Being the true consummate professionals they are, repayment of this debt is never asked for. A simple thanks is usually more than they want. Humble servants. So it is with great shock and awe that I can't understand that after these folks have given in the service of others that we as a society allow our elected officials to limit simple entitlements. Rescue workers at the World Trade Center continue to be plagued by ailments and the government screws around with their medical and financial compensation.
Military personnel are exposed to things on the battlefield that their superiors don't acknowledge. Malady's and indescribable injuries are given inadequate or non-existent treatment.
We ask so much of these protectors of society and in return for the harm they receive we nickel and dime them. Is this anyway we as a society should repay these selfless hero's? Lets do the right thing. They did!
Our public safety professionals are, in my opinion, some of the best trained in the world. When duty calls they respond, anytime, any day any where in the world. Witness just some recent events in our history. The world trade center disaster for example. Volunteers and paid professionals put their lives on hold and joined with the emergency workers from NYC to try helping and rescue those affected by the terror imported on our shores. Katrina victims were given the same accord. These professionals put the protection of others above themselves. Nothing puts this into a greater perspective than a visit to the New York City Fireman's Museum. There, displays clearly show the ultimate sacrifice that 343 members of FDNY gave that beautiful late summer day in 2001.
For the entire life of our country we have continued to send our military into harms way. Our citizen leaders expect and receive the ultimate commitment from these professionals. Many times the ultimate sacrifice is the result along with pain and suffering too intense for most of us to think about.
We as a society owe a debit that can never be repaid to these professionals. Being the true consummate professionals they are, repayment of this debt is never asked for. A simple thanks is usually more than they want. Humble servants. So it is with great shock and awe that I can't understand that after these folks have given in the service of others that we as a society allow our elected officials to limit simple entitlements. Rescue workers at the World Trade Center continue to be plagued by ailments and the government screws around with their medical and financial compensation.
Military personnel are exposed to things on the battlefield that their superiors don't acknowledge. Malady's and indescribable injuries are given inadequate or non-existent treatment.
We ask so much of these protectors of society and in return for the harm they receive we nickel and dime them. Is this anyway we as a society should repay these selfless hero's? Lets do the right thing. They did!
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Leaders or Followers?
Are we as a society leading or following? Why do we put so much time and effort into trying to follow the lives of "celebrities"and fifteen minute sensations? Does this fascination or these people really contribute positively to our society other than lining the pockets of their promoters? Analysts will say they provide us with an escapism from our problems. If we really need an escape from the problems then why don't we fix them?
We are a generous society willing to help out anyone in a time of need, take the outpouring of support we give any time a calamity hits anywhere in the world, the southeast Asia tsunami and Haitian victims. In the time of need for mankind we are able to get beyond the differences that daily seem to paralyze our society and come together for one cause. But focus back on the problems in America and we get all worked up. The left is right and the right is left. What about those of us that are caught in the middle? Where is our voice?
Has the political process in this country evolved into a contest of two big box store giants, starving out the small mom and pop stores on main street? Is bigger better? We have over 300 million people in this country and they are all individuals and each and everyone has a point of view. No matter how off the wall they might be, everyone by virtue of our constitution, is afforded the God given right to have that point of view and the right to express it without consequence. Yet how can the collection of view points be so casually distilled down to right or left? I know, I know, we can't have 300 million points of view, or nothing would get done. But even with just two points of view nothings getting done!
We have replaced good manufacturing jobs in this country with entertainment, politics and media. Quality has morphed into quantity. Riches are measured in dollars rather than life quality issues. The more we have the more we want. The more we want the more we need to have and so on. We are a country that believes in the future. Our forefathers brought forth a society that was predicated on the betterment of the state of mankind. But our belief in the future has become clouded in hoping that the paycheck an job will be there in the future to pay for those material things we feel are important.
We sit and listen to the talking heads pontificating how when this politician or that sneezes, how it is going to change the makeup of the nation. Are they really helping us? All the analysis seems to blur the subject. People in power, those persons we elect to represent us and advocate our points of views and desires never really gives straight answers. They can dance around a subject better than Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers can cut a rug. Once elected our representatives are focused on political life rather than the promoting our ideas and ideals.
We have developed a government that is so focused on power and the retention of it that individualism and true representation of the voters is secondary to the next election and the next and so on.
We are a nation of educated people who are innovative, adaptable and in my opinion second to none. So why can't we moxie up the where with all to stand up and let our elected officials know that business as usual is no longer acceptable. We don't need a hero or a superstar or a new messiah to guide us through the mess we're in. We need to start on common ground together. We need to bring our commonalities together for OUR betterment, not THEIRS! Term limits, if acceptable then so be it! Part time, citizen representatives rather than the career politicians. Have someone represent us. Someone who is one of US. Someone who can relate to the daily struggle to exist rather than flourish. Someone who is accessible to the guy next door. Someone who you can call up on the phone and speak your mind. Not someone who shows up the first time they"re running for office and then disappear into the woods after being elected. We as a people need to lead ourselves rather than follow the minstrel down the street.
Remember we should have a "Government of the People, By the People and FOR THE PEOPLE!
We are a generous society willing to help out anyone in a time of need, take the outpouring of support we give any time a calamity hits anywhere in the world, the southeast Asia tsunami and Haitian victims. In the time of need for mankind we are able to get beyond the differences that daily seem to paralyze our society and come together for one cause. But focus back on the problems in America and we get all worked up. The left is right and the right is left. What about those of us that are caught in the middle? Where is our voice?
Has the political process in this country evolved into a contest of two big box store giants, starving out the small mom and pop stores on main street? Is bigger better? We have over 300 million people in this country and they are all individuals and each and everyone has a point of view. No matter how off the wall they might be, everyone by virtue of our constitution, is afforded the God given right to have that point of view and the right to express it without consequence. Yet how can the collection of view points be so casually distilled down to right or left? I know, I know, we can't have 300 million points of view, or nothing would get done. But even with just two points of view nothings getting done!
We have replaced good manufacturing jobs in this country with entertainment, politics and media. Quality has morphed into quantity. Riches are measured in dollars rather than life quality issues. The more we have the more we want. The more we want the more we need to have and so on. We are a country that believes in the future. Our forefathers brought forth a society that was predicated on the betterment of the state of mankind. But our belief in the future has become clouded in hoping that the paycheck an job will be there in the future to pay for those material things we feel are important.
We sit and listen to the talking heads pontificating how when this politician or that sneezes, how it is going to change the makeup of the nation. Are they really helping us? All the analysis seems to blur the subject. People in power, those persons we elect to represent us and advocate our points of views and desires never really gives straight answers. They can dance around a subject better than Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers can cut a rug. Once elected our representatives are focused on political life rather than the promoting our ideas and ideals.
We have developed a government that is so focused on power and the retention of it that individualism and true representation of the voters is secondary to the next election and the next and so on.
We are a nation of educated people who are innovative, adaptable and in my opinion second to none. So why can't we moxie up the where with all to stand up and let our elected officials know that business as usual is no longer acceptable. We don't need a hero or a superstar or a new messiah to guide us through the mess we're in. We need to start on common ground together. We need to bring our commonalities together for OUR betterment, not THEIRS! Term limits, if acceptable then so be it! Part time, citizen representatives rather than the career politicians. Have someone represent us. Someone who is one of US. Someone who can relate to the daily struggle to exist rather than flourish. Someone who is accessible to the guy next door. Someone who you can call up on the phone and speak your mind. Not someone who shows up the first time they"re running for office and then disappear into the woods after being elected. We as a people need to lead ourselves rather than follow the minstrel down the street.
Remember we should have a "Government of the People, By the People and FOR THE PEOPLE!
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