Like many immigrants that came to this country back in the 20’s, 30’s 40’s and 50’s there was a misconception that the streets were paved with gold. In comparison to the conditions that we were living under, this country seemed like heaven. If you were willing to work, you too could achieve the American dream
It breaks my heart to see how my adopted country is swiftly plummeting from its lofty peak and the dream is turning into a nightmare. Even though the economy is growing, incomes have stagnated and the poverty rate rose last year. It was the first time on record that household incomes failed to increase for five straight years. Last year, households kept income from falling by working more hours than they did in 2003. The growth in the economy is not going to families, just witness what is happening to oil prices.
Just witness what happened in Louisiana and Mississippi. People died needlessly because they couldn’t afford to evacuate. They didn’t have $20 to buy gas to get them out of danger. People on fixed incomes were waiting for a monthly check that generally arrives at the beginning of each month and the hurricane came at the end of the month when people had little or no money left. It is absolutely disgusting that we offer all kinds of benefits to illegal aliens, yet we treat our poor like the unwanted.
I don’t condone the looting that’s taken place in New Orleans, but I ask you if that differs from the looting, actually the gouging that our Big Oil Companies are doing to us, the consumer. How can the price be raised two or three times within a week even after the price of a barrel of oil dropped 0.87? What’s happened to the people in this country? Do we just keep bending over and let them repeatedly kick us in the rear end?
How can we spend $2 to $3 billion a week to topple a government in Iraq, while we have millions that have no health coverage? How can we send tons of food and material aid to Tsunami victims within a couple of days, yet we can’t get water and essentials to the victims of our latest hurricane right in our backyard? What happened in New Orleans, Mississippi and Alabama could have just as easily occurred here. Those people we see wandering around without a place to go to with all their worldly belongings on their backs could have been us, and might be us in the near future.
My adopted country is acting like the people that have been impacted by the hurricane are not American. The faces we see on TV are mainly blacks. Where is the reverence for these victims? Are they any different than the victims of 9/11? I can change the channel and watch the spoiled millionaires entertain thousands of people at Fenway Park just like nothing happened. If this disaster had happened in New York or Los Angeles or Chicago, I’m sure that we would have seen a better response.
We are all poorer from the pitiful response of our national leaders.
God bless America, it needs you now more than ever.
8.31.2005
Water
Watching and reading about the devastation brought on by the latest hurricane confirms my belief that water is probably the most destructive element on earth, yet without it every living creature would die. I’ve seen and felt what a fire can do, but you can always put a fire out with water. How do you control water especially when it combines with other forces such as heavy winds? Only the Lord can. Matthew 8:26-27 says, “Then he rose and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was great calm. And the men marveled, saying, ‘What sort of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him?’”
I’m not heavy into astrology but I know I was born under a water sign, Aquarius, and it seems that I’ve been around water since I was born. My place of birth, Gaeta, Italy, is surrounded by water and as a little boy I feared the ocean. I lived one street back from the seacoast and can remember how frightened I would get when the surf kicked up. During the stormy season, from my house I could hear the pounding of the waves against the sea wall. And at night even though you couldn’t see the waves you could hear the roll as it got nearer and nearer. It was like a lion roaring as it ferociously approached its prey.
My father, grandfather and uncle all made a living from the bounty they caught at sea, they were fishermen. My father’s death was tied to an accident that occurred at sea on his little fishing boat. My mother was able to survive WWII by taking big vats of sea water and leaving them out for days to dry under the sun. When the sea water evaporated it left a remnant of sea salt which she used to barter for some food (mainly bread). I would venture to say that water probably saved her life.
We came to the United States in 1955 via, you guessed it, water. We spent 9 days at sea traversing the Atlantic. The normal voyage usually took eight days but we ran up against a hurricane at sea and had to divert from the normal route of travel. Even though we were on a huge luxury liner we still felt the force of the hurricane. I spent seven out of the nine days in bed because of the choppy seas. When we arrived here we made the North End our home, right near the water of Boston harbor.
It seems like there’s water always coming after me. Shortly after I was married, a pipe burst right outside our apartment and we incurred water damage to the kitchen. The first house we bought had a problem of water in the basement anytime there were heavy rains. Most of the expenditures in the present house were caused by or are directly related to water. Water damage from frozen pipes, water damage from a burst washing machine hose and even the plumber got doused with dirty drain water while attempting to fix a pipe.
The water problems that I’ve had to deal with are nothing when I read things like, “The house just filled up with water. It forced me into the attic and then I ended up kicking out the wall and climbing out to a tree.” Some of the poor souls in the affected areas had to deal with water rising as high as 30 feet and were lucky to be rescued.
Amidst all the chaos, confusion and heightened tension we have people assigning blame for this disaster. This was on the RFK Jr. Blog site; “In 1998, Republican icon Pat Robertson warned that hurricanes were likely to hit communities that offended God.” How did this community offend God? Maybe it’s the sins of the Mardi Gras.
New Orleans has now become a huge bathtub and many experts guess that it’s going to be months before people can attempt to go back to their houses. Talk about your life being turned upside down. It’s just another stark reminder for me to get rid a lot of unnecessary STUFF. I wonder how much stuff has been lost to this disaster. That’s OK, it’s your life that’s important.
8.30.2005
A Must Call Number
888/382-1222.
Call this number to register your cell phone number on the do not call list.
Whithin 30 days cell phone numbers are being released to telemarketing companies
and you will start to receive sales calls. YOU WILL BE CHARGED FOR THESE CALLS...
To prevent this, call the following number from your cell phone:
888/382-1222. or go to www.donotcall.gov
It is the National DO NOT CALL Registry. It will only take 90 seconds of your time. It blocks your number for five (5) years. You must call from the number you want to block.
Call this number to register your cell phone number on the do not call list.
Whithin 30 days cell phone numbers are being released to telemarketing companies
and you will start to receive sales calls. YOU WILL BE CHARGED FOR THESE CALLS...
To prevent this, call the following number from your cell phone:
888/382-1222. or go to www.donotcall.gov
It is the National DO NOT CALL Registry. It will only take 90 seconds of your time. It blocks your number for five (5) years. You must call from the number you want to block.
Another Wake Up Call
In the song American Pie, Don McLean sings, “drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry…” The levees might have been dry then, but today they are submerged by the wrath of Hurricane Katrina. As bad as it was, New Orleans was spared a doomsday scenario that some experts have predicted for that area. Had Katrina not shifted, hurricane waters could have spilled over levees and swamped the saucer-shaped city in a toxic soup of refinery chemicals, sewage and human bodies.
Once again we see, and it’s happening with more frequency, the sixth hurricane to hit Florida in a year, the lives of hundreds of thousands tossed upside down at a moment’s notice. It should be a reminder to us all that we control absolutely nothing – we’re here today, gone tomorrow. Many people just don’t get it, even when they’re told of impending doom they decide that nothing is going to happen to them or they are so attached to material things that they don’t want to leave them behind.
Sometimes I wonder how much we really grasp of what we see on TV. The death and destruction that comes across our screen on a daily basis has somehow dulled our sense of reality. I feel like we have become like Thomas, the doubting one. We don’t actually grasp the true meaning until we actually touch and feel the wounds for ourselves. It’s like the mantra of the war that’s been repeated ad nausea, “Better to fight them there, than having to fight them here.” We have just watched another disaster movie, OK, that wasn’t too bad, but I need something with more action, more violence. It's the how can we top the last movie mentality that's driving a lot of us.
While I was watching aerial shots from a helicopter of the devastation, the reporter was saying that many people were in jeopardy of not being rescued from their rooftops because of the lack of boats available to them. They only had two boats to service a wide area. It’s okay to expend all kinds of money to position reporters and tons of equipment from local, national and cable TV stations that way America gets live shots from some dope standing at the beach to show us what 130 MPH winds and 20 foot waves look like, but we can’t find another boat to save some poor bastards life.
And I’m just as bad, clicking from CNN to MSNBC to FOX to see if one has a better shot than the other. Then I watch Larry King as he takes calls from people that have left the state and are now calling hoping to get some information about their hometown. He asks the reporters on the scene however they cannot provide any information to these worried souls. The rain had stopped outside; I changed the channel to watch the Red Sox. So much for the hurricane, I need a diversion.
A short time later, I turned the TV off and I sat and stared at the blank screen rehashing what I’d just experienced. I’d been around the world in a matter of minutes. I got a glimpse of Iraq and the news of the loss of another soldier’s life, nothing new there. I was taken to Aruba to find that nothing changed on the plight of the missing girl. Then I came back to the US and spent some time watching the devastation caused by the hurricane. With a click of a button I was looking in Fenway Park and watched a bunch of millionaires playing a kid’s game. In between all of this I watched many people tell me why I should by their particular product. In the course of an hour I was bombarded with a lot of pictures and a lot of information.
One hour of that was enough for me. I decided that I needed some quiet time. Time to spend in reflection and prayer. Time to pray for all that were impacted by the latest storm. Time to thank God for giving me another day.
Once again we see, and it’s happening with more frequency, the sixth hurricane to hit Florida in a year, the lives of hundreds of thousands tossed upside down at a moment’s notice. It should be a reminder to us all that we control absolutely nothing – we’re here today, gone tomorrow. Many people just don’t get it, even when they’re told of impending doom they decide that nothing is going to happen to them or they are so attached to material things that they don’t want to leave them behind.
Sometimes I wonder how much we really grasp of what we see on TV. The death and destruction that comes across our screen on a daily basis has somehow dulled our sense of reality. I feel like we have become like Thomas, the doubting one. We don’t actually grasp the true meaning until we actually touch and feel the wounds for ourselves. It’s like the mantra of the war that’s been repeated ad nausea, “Better to fight them there, than having to fight them here.” We have just watched another disaster movie, OK, that wasn’t too bad, but I need something with more action, more violence. It's the how can we top the last movie mentality that's driving a lot of us.
While I was watching aerial shots from a helicopter of the devastation, the reporter was saying that many people were in jeopardy of not being rescued from their rooftops because of the lack of boats available to them. They only had two boats to service a wide area. It’s okay to expend all kinds of money to position reporters and tons of equipment from local, national and cable TV stations that way America gets live shots from some dope standing at the beach to show us what 130 MPH winds and 20 foot waves look like, but we can’t find another boat to save some poor bastards life.
And I’m just as bad, clicking from CNN to MSNBC to FOX to see if one has a better shot than the other. Then I watch Larry King as he takes calls from people that have left the state and are now calling hoping to get some information about their hometown. He asks the reporters on the scene however they cannot provide any information to these worried souls. The rain had stopped outside; I changed the channel to watch the Red Sox. So much for the hurricane, I need a diversion.
A short time later, I turned the TV off and I sat and stared at the blank screen rehashing what I’d just experienced. I’d been around the world in a matter of minutes. I got a glimpse of Iraq and the news of the loss of another soldier’s life, nothing new there. I was taken to Aruba to find that nothing changed on the plight of the missing girl. Then I came back to the US and spent some time watching the devastation caused by the hurricane. With a click of a button I was looking in Fenway Park and watched a bunch of millionaires playing a kid’s game. In between all of this I watched many people tell me why I should by their particular product. In the course of an hour I was bombarded with a lot of pictures and a lot of information.
One hour of that was enough for me. I decided that I needed some quiet time. Time to spend in reflection and prayer. Time to pray for all that were impacted by the latest storm. Time to thank God for giving me another day.
8.29.2005
Shut-ah U Face
Years ago on a construction site I witnessed the following scenario. It was mid morning during coffee break time and the brick layers, Fitzie, Joe, and Al were sitting under the shade of a nearby tree when a couple of the big shots from Local 25 came over. One of them, a Business Agent for the union dressed in his three piece suit went over to Al and took him with them behind the construction trailer. Not knowing that I was close by, they proceeded by threatening the old timer, Al.
The Business Agent grabbed Al by his wet and dusty t-shirt and said, “You want to keep-ah this job, you keep-ah your-ah mouth shut. Cahpeesh?” Al frighteningly nodded his head to signify he understood. The two men weren’t happy with his nod and they yelled again at him until Al sheepishly uttered the word, yes. As Al was walking back to the area where he was laying bricks, the two men called him. When he turned toward them, the Business Agent said “Remember!” and immediately put his fist in his mouth and made believe he was biting it. Al knew exactly what that meant.
I don’t know what Al knew about the Business Agent, I could only surmise that he had seen something that he wasn’t suppose to see and they were warning him not to tell anyone. You didn’t want to cross these people because they could cost you your future. They controlled who got the jobs and special assignments.
This story was resuscitated from the back of my mind after reading in today's NY Times about the demotion of a woman who had been the chief overseer of contracts at the Army Corps of Engineers.
The Army states that the reason for her demotion is based solely on her poor job performance, but if you read the article one sort of starts smelling a rat. It appears once again someone is being singled out for speaking out against the Bush administration. She invoked the holy name of Halliburton, which is near and dear to Mr. Cheney's fragile heart.
The list of people who have been told to shut-ah your-ah face-ah under the current administration is growing. I wonder if they do it while biting their fists.
Next time you see a picture of Karl Rove of Dick Cheney; see if they don't remind you of a couple of shady Business Agents or used car salesmen. I better be careful, Big Brother is probably monitoring the World Wide Web. Why don’t they send them to find Osama?
The Business Agent grabbed Al by his wet and dusty t-shirt and said, “You want to keep-ah this job, you keep-ah your-ah mouth shut. Cahpeesh?” Al frighteningly nodded his head to signify he understood. The two men weren’t happy with his nod and they yelled again at him until Al sheepishly uttered the word, yes. As Al was walking back to the area where he was laying bricks, the two men called him. When he turned toward them, the Business Agent said “Remember!” and immediately put his fist in his mouth and made believe he was biting it. Al knew exactly what that meant.
I don’t know what Al knew about the Business Agent, I could only surmise that he had seen something that he wasn’t suppose to see and they were warning him not to tell anyone. You didn’t want to cross these people because they could cost you your future. They controlled who got the jobs and special assignments.
This story was resuscitated from the back of my mind after reading in today's NY Times about the demotion of a woman who had been the chief overseer of contracts at the Army Corps of Engineers.
The Army states that the reason for her demotion is based solely on her poor job performance, but if you read the article one sort of starts smelling a rat. It appears once again someone is being singled out for speaking out against the Bush administration. She invoked the holy name of Halliburton, which is near and dear to Mr. Cheney's fragile heart.
The list of people who have been told to shut-ah your-ah face-ah under the current administration is growing. I wonder if they do it while biting their fists.
Next time you see a picture of Karl Rove of Dick Cheney; see if they don't remind you of a couple of shady Business Agents or used car salesmen. I better be careful, Big Brother is probably monitoring the World Wide Web. Why don’t they send them to find Osama?
The Most Important Body Part
This story of a mother and her little boy is from an unknown author.
When he was a little boy his mother would periodically ask him what was the most important body part and he would always take a guess at what he thought was the correct answer.
At first the little boy thought that sound was important to humans and answered that his ears were most important. The mother told him, no, and that many people were deaf but to keep thinking and she would ask him again soon.
Years had passed until she asked the question again. The boy had been thinking very hard about the correct answer and said that sight was very important; therefore it must be the eyes. She looked at him and encouragingly said that he was learning very fast but eyes was not the answer because many people were blind.
Over the years the boy searched to find the correct answer but every time he was asked the mother would tell him no, but that he was getting smarter every year.
Then his grandfather died and the boy noticed everybody crying, even his father. This was only the second time he saw his father crying. As they were saying their final good-byes to the grandfather the boy was asked, “Do you know the most important body part yet, my son?”
The boy was shocked when asked. He always thought this was some game between him and his mother. She saw the confusion on his face and said, "This question is very important. It shows that you have really lived in your life. For every body part you gave me in the past, I have told you were wrong and I have given you an example why. But today is the day you need to learn this important lesson."
She looked down at him as tears welled up in her eyes and said, “My son, the most important body part is your shoulder.” He asked if it was because it held his head up. She told him, "No, it is because it can hold the head of a friend or a loved one when they cry. Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on sometime in life. I hope that you have enough love and friends that you will always have a shoulder to cry on when you need it.”
Then and there he knew the most important body part was not a selfish one, but one that’s sympathetic to the pain of others.
People will forget what you said...
People will forget what you did....
But people will NEVER forget how you made them feel
I know it's hard sometimes
and things seem larger than they are
But if you need to let it go
Then you can call on me
Cry on my shoulder
I'll help you dry your eyes
Cry on my shoulder
- Bonnie Raitt lyrics from Cry On My Shoulder
When he was a little boy his mother would periodically ask him what was the most important body part and he would always take a guess at what he thought was the correct answer.
At first the little boy thought that sound was important to humans and answered that his ears were most important. The mother told him, no, and that many people were deaf but to keep thinking and she would ask him again soon.
Years had passed until she asked the question again. The boy had been thinking very hard about the correct answer and said that sight was very important; therefore it must be the eyes. She looked at him and encouragingly said that he was learning very fast but eyes was not the answer because many people were blind.
Over the years the boy searched to find the correct answer but every time he was asked the mother would tell him no, but that he was getting smarter every year.
Then his grandfather died and the boy noticed everybody crying, even his father. This was only the second time he saw his father crying. As they were saying their final good-byes to the grandfather the boy was asked, “Do you know the most important body part yet, my son?”
The boy was shocked when asked. He always thought this was some game between him and his mother. She saw the confusion on his face and said, "This question is very important. It shows that you have really lived in your life. For every body part you gave me in the past, I have told you were wrong and I have given you an example why. But today is the day you need to learn this important lesson."
She looked down at him as tears welled up in her eyes and said, “My son, the most important body part is your shoulder.” He asked if it was because it held his head up. She told him, "No, it is because it can hold the head of a friend or a loved one when they cry. Everybody needs a shoulder to cry on sometime in life. I hope that you have enough love and friends that you will always have a shoulder to cry on when you need it.”
Then and there he knew the most important body part was not a selfish one, but one that’s sympathetic to the pain of others.
People will forget what you said...
People will forget what you did....
But people will NEVER forget how you made them feel
I know it's hard sometimes
and things seem larger than they are
But if you need to let it go
Then you can call on me
Cry on my shoulder
I'll help you dry your eyes
Cry on my shoulder
- Bonnie Raitt lyrics from Cry On My Shoulder
8.28.2005
Marriage
In a recent effort to simplify my life, I've being going through many boxes stored in the basement and attic to see what I can throw away. I'm sort of a pack rat when it comes to holding on to reading material. I keep holding on to books, magazines, etc. with the foolish expectation that I will somehow find the time to read them. It never happens and it just creates a bigger pile of STUFF that I'm holding on to needlessly.
As I was going through this sifting process, I found a bunch of Reader's Digest Magazines from the late 40's and early 50's. The first one I picked up was from October 1947 and was in fairly good shape. Having a few minutes to waste, I decided to scan it to see what were some of the topics of interest 58 years ago. The very first article, "Let's Help Them Marry Young" tickled my curiosity bone and I decided to see what this was all about.
Before I could finish the first paragraph, I stopped and muttered to myself how things haven't changed much. The problem presented was how difficult it was, financially, for a couple to get married. Based on what they were earning back then, couples could not afford to get married young and were labeled as the blocked generation.
Back then, the norm was for people to get married in their late teens and early twenties mainly because they couldn't wait any longer for sex. The dilemma of having to wait to get married had psychiatrist's offices teeming with men and women suffering from guilt complexes because they indulged in premarital sex relations, and with equal numbers who were frigid or impotent because they were too long repressed. The rules of society back then were puritanical and it was taboo to engage in premarital sex.
Early marriage was more or less a check against evils. An interview with a young couple that had been married for four years (she was 18, he was 21) provided the following: "It's given us a chance to grow and develop together", she said. "We feel we understand each other much better than we would if we had married four or five years later." He said, "Together we've got more courage to face the future than we'd ever have separately. Being a married man - with one child already and another on the way - I'm sure I'm a much better citizen than if I were single. I work harder. I have a bank account for the first time in my life. I plan for the future. I know if I were single today, I'd be running around, staying up until all hours, and getting nowhere fast."
Professionals often advised the young to get married, saying that the idea of waiting for a better job or money in the bank was strictly materialistic. They claimed that the hardships of starting out in life did not destroy marriage but made it stronger. They also said that the thing which really weakens our social structure is that family life starts too late.
Today, unless children are born into wealth, it's just as dificult if not more for so for two people to get married. To give you an idea, the median age of new spouses rose from 20 for females and 23 for males in 1960 to about 26 and 27, respectively, in 2004. Other factors include the growth of cohabitation and a small decrease in the tendency of divorced people to remarry.
The divorce rate today is nearly twice that of 1960, but has declined slightly since hitting its peak in the early 1980s. For the average couple that married in recent years, the lifetime probability of divorce or separation remains between 40% and 50%.
The stable family of the 1950's largely became a relic of the past as American women entered the job market and found that they could be economically independent and responsible for themselves and not have to depend on a man to take care of those things.
No matter if it's the 1950's or the present thoughts of marriage always brings some form of indecision, in some cases a cold feet syndrome. The hardest question to answer after meeting someone that you like is, "How do I know if this is the right one?" You go and ask your parents and the the answer you'll get is, "When you meet the right one - you'll know! Three weeks before the wedding someone will ask you, "Are you sure?" By this time it's too late, the wedding invitations have been sent out. The only thing you can hope for is what happened to George Costanza on one of the Seinfeld episodes.
You reach the altar on your wedding day and you ask, "God, What am I doing here?" At that moment God will speak to you. You hear a voice saying, "Too late, sucker!"
Dr. Tony Campolo in his book, "Let Me Tell You a Story", says that, Marriage is what you create after the wedding is over. It's something you have to decide to create. You wake up one morning and look across the bed. She won't be awake yet. Her mouth will be open and her hair will hanging down over her face. Worse than that, she will wake up first and look across the bed, and in your case, there may be no hair hanging down over your face. And romance takes a nose dive! That is when people can too easily split up.
When I asked a friend of mine whether he and his wife had ever thought of divorce as the romance wound down, he answered, "Of course not. My wife and I never considered divorce. Murder sometimes - but never divorce!"
I also collect sayings and quotations and will leave you with these two gems about marriage:
The woman cries before the wedding; the man afterwards. -Polish proverb
A deaf husband and a blind wife are always a happy couple. -Danish Proverb
As I was going through this sifting process, I found a bunch of Reader's Digest Magazines from the late 40's and early 50's. The first one I picked up was from October 1947 and was in fairly good shape. Having a few minutes to waste, I decided to scan it to see what were some of the topics of interest 58 years ago. The very first article, "Let's Help Them Marry Young" tickled my curiosity bone and I decided to see what this was all about.
Before I could finish the first paragraph, I stopped and muttered to myself how things haven't changed much. The problem presented was how difficult it was, financially, for a couple to get married. Based on what they were earning back then, couples could not afford to get married young and were labeled as the blocked generation.
Back then, the norm was for people to get married in their late teens and early twenties mainly because they couldn't wait any longer for sex. The dilemma of having to wait to get married had psychiatrist's offices teeming with men and women suffering from guilt complexes because they indulged in premarital sex relations, and with equal numbers who were frigid or impotent because they were too long repressed. The rules of society back then were puritanical and it was taboo to engage in premarital sex.
Early marriage was more or less a check against evils. An interview with a young couple that had been married for four years (she was 18, he was 21) provided the following: "It's given us a chance to grow and develop together", she said. "We feel we understand each other much better than we would if we had married four or five years later." He said, "Together we've got more courage to face the future than we'd ever have separately. Being a married man - with one child already and another on the way - I'm sure I'm a much better citizen than if I were single. I work harder. I have a bank account for the first time in my life. I plan for the future. I know if I were single today, I'd be running around, staying up until all hours, and getting nowhere fast."
Professionals often advised the young to get married, saying that the idea of waiting for a better job or money in the bank was strictly materialistic. They claimed that the hardships of starting out in life did not destroy marriage but made it stronger. They also said that the thing which really weakens our social structure is that family life starts too late.
Today, unless children are born into wealth, it's just as dificult if not more for so for two people to get married. To give you an idea, the median age of new spouses rose from 20 for females and 23 for males in 1960 to about 26 and 27, respectively, in 2004. Other factors include the growth of cohabitation and a small decrease in the tendency of divorced people to remarry.
The divorce rate today is nearly twice that of 1960, but has declined slightly since hitting its peak in the early 1980s. For the average couple that married in recent years, the lifetime probability of divorce or separation remains between 40% and 50%.
The stable family of the 1950's largely became a relic of the past as American women entered the job market and found that they could be economically independent and responsible for themselves and not have to depend on a man to take care of those things.
No matter if it's the 1950's or the present thoughts of marriage always brings some form of indecision, in some cases a cold feet syndrome. The hardest question to answer after meeting someone that you like is, "How do I know if this is the right one?" You go and ask your parents and the the answer you'll get is, "When you meet the right one - you'll know! Three weeks before the wedding someone will ask you, "Are you sure?" By this time it's too late, the wedding invitations have been sent out. The only thing you can hope for is what happened to George Costanza on one of the Seinfeld episodes.
You reach the altar on your wedding day and you ask, "God, What am I doing here?" At that moment God will speak to you. You hear a voice saying, "Too late, sucker!"
Dr. Tony Campolo in his book, "Let Me Tell You a Story", says that, Marriage is what you create after the wedding is over. It's something you have to decide to create. You wake up one morning and look across the bed. She won't be awake yet. Her mouth will be open and her hair will hanging down over her face. Worse than that, she will wake up first and look across the bed, and in your case, there may be no hair hanging down over your face. And romance takes a nose dive! That is when people can too easily split up.
When I asked a friend of mine whether he and his wife had ever thought of divorce as the romance wound down, he answered, "Of course not. My wife and I never considered divorce. Murder sometimes - but never divorce!"
I also collect sayings and quotations and will leave you with these two gems about marriage:
The woman cries before the wedding; the man afterwards. -Polish proverb
A deaf husband and a blind wife are always a happy couple. -Danish Proverb
8.27.2005
Are You Vindictive?
I just got through reading a story on The Pittsburgh Channel.com about the vindictiveness of a Ohio postal worker.
He worked for the Postal Service in Akron, Ohio for eleven years as a mechanic and was recently video taped by co-workers putting urine in a coffee pot in the break room. Prosecutors said he was unhappy at work.
In my thirty four years working for the Postal Service, I saw some real strange things but nothing like this. Some of the things I witnessed happened right out in the open, such as people fighting amongst each other and with customers. It seemed like in every office I worked at, there were always a few people that needed to be kept away from each other.
I remember one time during Christmas season the clerks and carriers got together and had a luncheon in the break room of the Post Office. This particular office had a clerk that had a knack of getting under everybody’s skin. Most of the time people put up with his nonsense but on this festive occasion a letter carrier was pushed to his breaking point.
It started with some words between the clerk and carrier then it escalated into a shouting match and it ended with the carrier picking up a large serving platter filled with spaghetti and meat balls and pouring it over the clerk's head. The sight of the clerk sitting there covered with spaghetti, sauce, and meat balls is one that will always stay etched in my mind. Even though many went without tasting any of the spaghetti, it was worth it to have someone finally shut that annoying clerk up.
Sometimes I wondered what took place that went unnoticed. I had a few people that worked for me that were somewhat unhappy with their assignments at times. There was one person who when he saw a co-worker upset at me or another supervisor would break out with the following mantra, “Don’t get mad, get even.”
There was a woman who worked for me who was extremely selfish and could have a mean streak much like the mechanic in Ohio. No matter what you did for her she was always unhappy. I hope that she has mellowed somewhat since I retired.
Along with the story is an interactive poll that asks the readership the following question , “Have you ever done anything vindictive to your coworkers?” Currently, out of 18,721 voting, 85 responded, Yes, and I was caught, 1,457 responded, Yes, and I was never caught, and 17,179 responded, No, I have not.
This poll is not a scientific poll, but it shows that from this base eight percent of the people admit to doing something vindictive to their coworkers. Hmm, how factual do you think this is in your workplace?
He worked for the Postal Service in Akron, Ohio for eleven years as a mechanic and was recently video taped by co-workers putting urine in a coffee pot in the break room. Prosecutors said he was unhappy at work.
In my thirty four years working for the Postal Service, I saw some real strange things but nothing like this. Some of the things I witnessed happened right out in the open, such as people fighting amongst each other and with customers. It seemed like in every office I worked at, there were always a few people that needed to be kept away from each other.
I remember one time during Christmas season the clerks and carriers got together and had a luncheon in the break room of the Post Office. This particular office had a clerk that had a knack of getting under everybody’s skin. Most of the time people put up with his nonsense but on this festive occasion a letter carrier was pushed to his breaking point.
It started with some words between the clerk and carrier then it escalated into a shouting match and it ended with the carrier picking up a large serving platter filled with spaghetti and meat balls and pouring it over the clerk's head. The sight of the clerk sitting there covered with spaghetti, sauce, and meat balls is one that will always stay etched in my mind. Even though many went without tasting any of the spaghetti, it was worth it to have someone finally shut that annoying clerk up.
Sometimes I wondered what took place that went unnoticed. I had a few people that worked for me that were somewhat unhappy with their assignments at times. There was one person who when he saw a co-worker upset at me or another supervisor would break out with the following mantra, “Don’t get mad, get even.”
There was a woman who worked for me who was extremely selfish and could have a mean streak much like the mechanic in Ohio. No matter what you did for her she was always unhappy. I hope that she has mellowed somewhat since I retired.
Along with the story is an interactive poll that asks the readership the following question , “Have you ever done anything vindictive to your coworkers?” Currently, out of 18,721 voting, 85 responded, Yes, and I was caught, 1,457 responded, Yes, and I was never caught, and 17,179 responded, No, I have not.
This poll is not a scientific poll, but it shows that from this base eight percent of the people admit to doing something vindictive to their coworkers. Hmm, how factual do you think this is in your workplace?
Great, Greater, Greatest
There seems to be a tendency to erroneously categorize people as great or superstars when they are actually average. I find that occurs quite a bit in sports. I also use to hear this word used frequently by a manager I knew in the Post Office. Everytime I would encounter this individual and ask him how he was doing, he would always respond, “great.” I would always walk away from the encounter muttering to myself, “Damn, how could he say he feels great when he looks like crap?” I don’t know what I would do if he said he felt miserable but I couldn’t buy the notion that he felt great all the time. The best I could do was to say, I felt OK, but most times I would answer, not too bad. This came from my Italian side of the brain. When someone would ask, Come stai? (How are you?), I would respond, Non c’e malo (not too bad).
In many ways, I feel that we’ve devalued the meaning of the word great by throwing it around so easily. Inflation has set in even on this adjective just like it has with money. The word great to me as a kid was like a one hundred dollar bill – you didn’t see too many around. Now it seems they’re a dime a dozen. Greatness isn’t achieved in a few years but over the course of a lifetime. Money doesn’t make you great – I don’t consider Donald Trump a great man – he’s wealthy, but not great. Some of the worst role models are people with money.
In my lifetime there are only a handful of people that I know about that I would consider as being great. There are probably many others in this category that we know very little about, ordinary people doing extraordinary things without any fanfare. There’s one extraordinary woman who lived in my lifetime that I will never forget. The adjective great or greatest doesn’t do her justice because within a matter of years she will be elevated to sainthood. If she was still alive today, I would wish her a happy birthday and thank her for being a true inspiration. Mother Teresa, I wish that I accomplish one tenth of one percent that you accomplished.
She was born into poverty and died extremely rich in the love she received from all the unwanted, unloved and uncared for that she took in. One day she picked up a man from the gutter. His body was covered with worms. She brought him to her house, a missionary she started. The man did not curse, nor blame anyone. He just said, “I’ve lived like an animal in the street, but I’m going to die like an angel, loved and cared for!” After the three hours it took to clean him, the man looked up with such a radiant face and said, “Sister, I’m going home to God.” She always treated everyone as if she was encountering Jesus.
Mother Teresa became famous and when journalists came to talk to her, she wouldn't give them an interview unless they spent a day working among the poor. When the pope gave her a white Lincoln Continental limousine, she sold it without ever taking a ride in it. And when she won the Nobel Peace Prize, she asked the committee to skip the awards dinner and give the cost of the dinner, (about $7,000) to the poor.
In her book, Mother Teresa, No Greater Love, she says’ “There is a natural conscience in every human being to know right from wrong. I deal with thousands who are Christians and non-Christians, and you can see such a conscience at work in their lives, drawing them to God. In everybody there is a tremendous hunger for God. If everyone were capable of discovering the image of God in their neighbors, do you think that we would still need tanks and generals?
8.26.2005
Not A Bad Word About Him
“He’s got ten World Series rings (and Red Sox Nation boast of one measly ring), made both the Hall of Fame and All Century Team in a breeze, handled a pitching staff like Heifetz handled a violin, has been married to a beautiful woman for 55 years, played before the big salaries and still became rich, remains instantly recognizable for decades after he last played, and no one has ever said a bad word about him. And I’ve got to tell people how smart he is? You tell me.”
This is a quote from broadcaster and TV personality Bob Costas. Do you know who is talking about? A couple of very obvious clues are number of World Series rings and handling pitchers. You couldn’t win that many rings unless you played for the Yankees and a person that handles a pitcher is a catcher. If you guessed Joe Torre that’s wrong. The man with all these great credentials is none other that Yogi Berra, famous today for his AFLAC commercial and his witty and down to earth Yogi-isms.
I am not a Yankee fan but growing up in the North End we had a lot of people that rooted for the Yankees simply because of the history of Italian ballplayers that played for them. Some of the more famous ones are Joe DiMaggio, Vic Raschi, Phil Rizzuto, Tony Lazzeri, Yogi Berra and Joe Pepitone.
If I could spend a few hours having a beer with a sports figure my choice would be to spend it with Yogi. The more I listen to his aphorisms (Yogi-isms) the more I seem to connect with him. When he says, “When you come to a fork in the road, Take It!” I know that he means sh_t or get off the pot. There are people who come to fork in the road and freeze – they can’t make a decision, or they’re afraid that they’ll choose the wrong one.
Another that’s attributed to him is, “We made too many wrong mistakes.” Everyone makes mistakes, some are little blunders and some are whoppers. The wrong mistakes are the whoppers and usually are avoidable, the more serious and more costly. The wrong mistakes are more mental than physical. Most car accidents are mental mistakes – not paying attention, even for a split second, is a wrong mistake.
How about, “Always go to other people’s funerals, otherwise they won’t go to yours.” I know when he says this he’s talking about having respect for others. He’s telling us to be loyal to our family and friends.
There are many others attributed to him such as, “It’s déjà vu all over again” and “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.” There’s one that describes his demeanor the best and it’s, “You can observe a lot by watching.” All he is trying to say here is pay attention. As a catcher he was basically the on the field manager, calling the pitches, setting the defenses and watching to make sure a runner wasn’t trying to steal a base. The catcher is the only one out of the nine players that faces his team. Yogi mentions on how this has always been his philosophy.
He describes that when he was playing American Legion ball, there were no benches or dugouts. So he used to sit with his arms and legs crossed, watching everything that was happening.. One day he and two of his buddies came back from the movies where they saw a travelogue about a Hindu guy called a yogi. The yogi sat with his arms and knees folded like him and so they decided to call him Yogi and it stuck.
Yogi was a talker when he was behind home plate and was always trying to distract the batter. Hank Aaron tells the story about the 1958 World Series, with Yogi behind the plate. Yogi kept telling Aaron to 'hit with the label up on the bat'. Finally Aaron turned and said "Yogi, I came up here to hit, not to read."
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that the cartoon character Yogi Bear was named after him.
This is a quote from broadcaster and TV personality Bob Costas. Do you know who is talking about? A couple of very obvious clues are number of World Series rings and handling pitchers. You couldn’t win that many rings unless you played for the Yankees and a person that handles a pitcher is a catcher. If you guessed Joe Torre that’s wrong. The man with all these great credentials is none other that Yogi Berra, famous today for his AFLAC commercial and his witty and down to earth Yogi-isms.
I am not a Yankee fan but growing up in the North End we had a lot of people that rooted for the Yankees simply because of the history of Italian ballplayers that played for them. Some of the more famous ones are Joe DiMaggio, Vic Raschi, Phil Rizzuto, Tony Lazzeri, Yogi Berra and Joe Pepitone.
If I could spend a few hours having a beer with a sports figure my choice would be to spend it with Yogi. The more I listen to his aphorisms (Yogi-isms) the more I seem to connect with him. When he says, “When you come to a fork in the road, Take It!” I know that he means sh_t or get off the pot. There are people who come to fork in the road and freeze – they can’t make a decision, or they’re afraid that they’ll choose the wrong one.
Another that’s attributed to him is, “We made too many wrong mistakes.” Everyone makes mistakes, some are little blunders and some are whoppers. The wrong mistakes are the whoppers and usually are avoidable, the more serious and more costly. The wrong mistakes are more mental than physical. Most car accidents are mental mistakes – not paying attention, even for a split second, is a wrong mistake.
How about, “Always go to other people’s funerals, otherwise they won’t go to yours.” I know when he says this he’s talking about having respect for others. He’s telling us to be loyal to our family and friends.
There are many others attributed to him such as, “It’s déjà vu all over again” and “It ain’t over ‘til it’s over.” There’s one that describes his demeanor the best and it’s, “You can observe a lot by watching.” All he is trying to say here is pay attention. As a catcher he was basically the on the field manager, calling the pitches, setting the defenses and watching to make sure a runner wasn’t trying to steal a base. The catcher is the only one out of the nine players that faces his team. Yogi mentions on how this has always been his philosophy.
He describes that when he was playing American Legion ball, there were no benches or dugouts. So he used to sit with his arms and legs crossed, watching everything that was happening.. One day he and two of his buddies came back from the movies where they saw a travelogue about a Hindu guy called a yogi. The yogi sat with his arms and knees folded like him and so they decided to call him Yogi and it stuck.
Yogi was a talker when he was behind home plate and was always trying to distract the batter. Hank Aaron tells the story about the 1958 World Series, with Yogi behind the plate. Yogi kept telling Aaron to 'hit with the label up on the bat'. Finally Aaron turned and said "Yogi, I came up here to hit, not to read."
It shouldn’t come as a surprise that the cartoon character Yogi Bear was named after him.
8.25.2005
Shhh! Baby's Sleeping
Congratulations to the Leones on the arrival on their second bundle of joy. I understand that it's a girl and wish mother and daughter God's blessing for good health.
Pictured are a quartet of one and two day old babies chilling out listening to music in a Slovak hospital. Doctors there believe that music therapy helps newborns reduce stress and stay healthy.
Shortly after birth, infants receive five 20-minute music sessions each day. Doctors found that while the tikes are tuned in, most of them fall asleep or lie quietly.
What will it be, Brahms or Beethoven?
Just Like Little Kids
I’ve had it up to here with the left-wing and the right-wing and it’s about time that this country pull together and form a “sensible-wing” because what we have now is a pair of self-consumed, spoiled fat brats.
Just look at the latest escapade with this Cindy Sheehan person. I have not followed this story from day one and I can’t seem to get a true picture of why this woman has become the poster person of grieving family members who have lost a loved one in the war. She might have started out with her own individual crusade but it’s apparent that some left-wing group is now sponsoring her, bringing all the whackos out who have nothing to do.
As bad as the left is the right-wing is no better. It seems like no one and I mean NO ONE, can speak badly about Dubya without being attacked – witness the Swift Boat Fiasco and what happened to McCain when he was running as a presidential candidate. Or how about U.S. ambassador Joseph Wilson, who believes that his wife's identity as an undercover CIA operative was leaked in retaliation for his criticism of the Bush administration in a 2002 New York Times op-ed piece. The right-wingers want everyone to go around like mindless bobble head dolls.
These smear campaigns remind me of the barbs that kids used to get into when I was small. One kid would say to the other insultingly, “Your mother!” the other kid would answer back, “No, your mother!!”, not to be outdone and back down, the first kid would come back with, “Noo! YOUR MOTHER!!!” This insanity would go on until one of them would resort to punching the other kid in the nose
I believe that this administration puts disagreeing with the president on the same plane as dissing your mother. Now we have pitted mothers against each other over a senseless war and the White House is frantically trying to find ways of making Dubya look like General Patton. Let's see, send him to West Point to make a useless speech. No, how about some VFW post in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Make sure we have plenty of US flags and let's prop up a few 85 yr. old veterans with a lot of medals right behind him on stage. I think half the White House staff is paid to think of ways and find settings that make the President appear as if he was an All-American hero. He sure isn't no Ike, as much as they try to make him out to be.
Isn’t it ironic that while we offer up the innocent lives of our loved ones in order for Iraqis to have freedom of speech that we are being stripped of ours. We have the likes of Biff O’Liary saying that he’s looking out for us with his No Spit Zone – but what he’s actually doing is looking out to make sure he stuffs his own pockets. If he is looking out for us, why didn't Fox send him to Aruba to find that missing girl? Then they give us Slippery and Bones to do an upscale version of The Your Mother routine weeknights on cable TV. Things haven’t changed since I was a little kid. The big difference with the little kids then was that after all the arguing and wrestling they would make up and go back to playing together without any intervention from the grownups.
They were united and ready to defend their turf against the likes of those Irish kids from Charlestown or South Boston. They were a “sensible-wing” and even with its internal scuffles the North End was the safest place to live in the city. Back then - you had a problem with the Ayatollah, don’t worry, he would be dealt with. You know what I mean? Bush you shouldn’t have picked Condoleeza Rice, the person you needed was Sam Spaccalafaccia (for you Arabs out there, name means break-a u face).
Just look at the latest escapade with this Cindy Sheehan person. I have not followed this story from day one and I can’t seem to get a true picture of why this woman has become the poster person of grieving family members who have lost a loved one in the war. She might have started out with her own individual crusade but it’s apparent that some left-wing group is now sponsoring her, bringing all the whackos out who have nothing to do.
As bad as the left is the right-wing is no better. It seems like no one and I mean NO ONE, can speak badly about Dubya without being attacked – witness the Swift Boat Fiasco and what happened to McCain when he was running as a presidential candidate. Or how about U.S. ambassador Joseph Wilson, who believes that his wife's identity as an undercover CIA operative was leaked in retaliation for his criticism of the Bush administration in a 2002 New York Times op-ed piece. The right-wingers want everyone to go around like mindless bobble head dolls.
These smear campaigns remind me of the barbs that kids used to get into when I was small. One kid would say to the other insultingly, “Your mother!” the other kid would answer back, “No, your mother!!”, not to be outdone and back down, the first kid would come back with, “Noo! YOUR MOTHER!!!” This insanity would go on until one of them would resort to punching the other kid in the nose
I believe that this administration puts disagreeing with the president on the same plane as dissing your mother. Now we have pitted mothers against each other over a senseless war and the White House is frantically trying to find ways of making Dubya look like General Patton. Let's see, send him to West Point to make a useless speech. No, how about some VFW post in Oshkosh, Wisconsin. Make sure we have plenty of US flags and let's prop up a few 85 yr. old veterans with a lot of medals right behind him on stage. I think half the White House staff is paid to think of ways and find settings that make the President appear as if he was an All-American hero. He sure isn't no Ike, as much as they try to make him out to be.
Isn’t it ironic that while we offer up the innocent lives of our loved ones in order for Iraqis to have freedom of speech that we are being stripped of ours. We have the likes of Biff O’Liary saying that he’s looking out for us with his No Spit Zone – but what he’s actually doing is looking out to make sure he stuffs his own pockets. If he is looking out for us, why didn't Fox send him to Aruba to find that missing girl? Then they give us Slippery and Bones to do an upscale version of The Your Mother routine weeknights on cable TV. Things haven’t changed since I was a little kid. The big difference with the little kids then was that after all the arguing and wrestling they would make up and go back to playing together without any intervention from the grownups.
They were united and ready to defend their turf against the likes of those Irish kids from Charlestown or South Boston. They were a “sensible-wing” and even with its internal scuffles the North End was the safest place to live in the city. Back then - you had a problem with the Ayatollah, don’t worry, he would be dealt with. You know what I mean? Bush you shouldn’t have picked Condoleeza Rice, the person you needed was Sam Spaccalafaccia (for you Arabs out there, name means break-a u face).
8.24.2005
A Tarnished Mouseketeer
You never know when you're going to find out something unpleasant about some one you had high regards for. As a young boy I grew up with watching not the Muppets but the Mickey Mouse Club. This Disney show was on TV between 1955 and 1959. On the show there were a group of clean cut, All-American type kids called the Mouseketeers who were led by two grown up Mouseketeers, named Jimmy and Roy.
There were a total of 39 Mouseketeers that appeared over the 4 year run of the show but only nine were on it for the entire time. One of them was Darlene (Gillespie), a favorite of mine along with everybody's favorite, Annette (Funicello).
I know that Annette went on to bigger and better things. She made several Disney films, including Zorro, The Shaggy Dog & Babes in Toyland, as well as a series of movies beginning with Beach Party in 1963 in which she co-starred with Frankie Avalon. She recorded a number of hit singles, including Tall Paul and Pineapple Princess. In 1987, she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. More recently, she has begun business ventures with a line of collectable teddy bears and her own perfume (Cello by Annette) the proceeds from which go to neurological research.
I never knew what happened to Darlene until this morning when I read that she became a nurse and performed as a country and western singer under the name Darlene Valentine. As I read on further, I was shocked to find that this little squeaky clean Mouseketeer that I remember and had a crush on as a little boy has been convicted on dozens of counts of securities fraud, conspiracy, obstruction of justice and perjury. Another Martha Stewart.
Gee, the people I had on my pedestals are all falling down. I wonder what I'm going to find out about Captain Kangaroo and Mr. Greenjeans? I'm glad I'm old enough to handle these setbacks.
Signs of Our Times
Scanning the various news sites, I offer you excerpts of five stories recently published in various newspapers which I would classify in as 'Signs of Our Times.'
1. Gasoline theft cost retailers nationwide $237 million in 2004 — more than twice the $112 million loss in 2003, according to NACS (National Association of Convenience Stores).
On average, one in every 1,100 fill-ups was a gas theft last year.
“As the price of gas climbs, people’s values decline.” This was uttered after a 54 yr. old service station owner died Friday after being run over by a driver who police believe wasn’t going to pay for $52 worth of fuel. Police are searching for the driver of the gold or tan Jeep-style SUV.
As oil prices approach the $3/gal mark how soon is it going to be that we start seeing security guards at Service Stations?
2. An estimated 119 million Americans, or 64.5 percent, of adults are either overweight or obese and the rate has been rising steadily every year. The percentage of obese adults rose from 23.7 percent in 2003 to 24.5 percent in 2004. The states with the smallest percentage of obese adults are Colorado, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Vermont and Montana.
Unfortunately my middle age spread has contributed to this high percentage even though I live in one of the states with the smallest percentage. I wonder how many other companies are going to come along touting some new fad diet or exercise machine or pill to exploit this tremedous consumer base of 119 million people. Look at the money Atkins made and it hasn't put any dent into the overweight problem. In Alabama, which is one of the states with a high percentage of overweight people, many are on a YoYo diet. A friend of mine who was recently there told me that all he heard was, "Yo, super size that!", or "Yo, let's have some more of those grits."
3. China on Tuesday introduced an “anti-online game addiction system” intended to protect players from the mental and physical perils of spending too much time in front of computers. An estimated 25m Chinese play online role-playing games. Under the new standard, up to three hours of play is considered “healthy” - and more than five to be “unhealthy”.
After five hours online, players will be subjected every 15 minutes to the warning: “You have entered unhealthy game time, please go offline immediately to rest. If you do not your health will be damaged and the benefits you can win will be cut to zero.“
What the heck! If you can't hook them with food then do it with gaming and gambling. Maybe you can combine them both as they do at Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods. Have we lost our common sense? Does anyone have any self control? Warning, reading this is not good for your health. Get out and go for a walk.
4. Pat Robertson's call for American agents to assassinate President Hugo Chavez is a "terrorist" statement that needs to be investigated by U.S. authorities, Venezuela said Tuesday. The Bush administration quickly distanced itself from the religious broadcaster.
Robertson's suggestion Monday that the United States "take out" Chavez to stop Venezuela from becoming a "launching pad for communist influence and Muslim extremism" appeared likely to aggravate tensions between the United States and the world's fifth-largest oil exporting country.
Chavez, who was democratically elected, has emerged as one of the most outspoken critics of President Bush, accusing the United States of conspiring to topple his government and possibly backing plots to assassinate him. The United States is the top buyer of Venezuelan oil, but Chavez has made it clear he wants to decrease the country's dependence on the U.S. market by finding other buyers.
Thanks Pat, I'm glad you got that off your chest and proved once again that even religious leaders have a mean streak in them. When is this nation going to stop stuffing the pockets of thugs like Chavez with billions of dollars from our selfish dependence on their oil?
5. For many Americans, the war is an abstraction. But it is not an abstraction for the innocent Iraqis whose lives have been devastated by our smart bombs. And it certainly is not an abstraction for those of us who have heard the words that change lives forever.
So think of my family's grief -- grief that will never end. Think of all the families. Think of the wounded, the maimed, the psychologically scarred.
And then consider: The preservation of our freedom rests not on U.S. imperialism but on actively changing foreign policies that are conquest-oriented and that dehumanize our own young who become fodder for endless war as well as people in other countries who are so geographically distant that they become abstract.
The answer is not Bush's mantra: "They're jealous of our freedoms."
And, finally, think about flowers: The flowers for Chase Comley will be presented not by grateful Iraqis but by loved ones honoring him as he's lowered to his grave and buried in our hearts.
This was written by the aunt of a Marine who recently lost his life in Iraq. I wonder what Rush Limbaugh is going to do or say to discredit this woman. What is the present administration going to do to counter the swell of anti-war sentiments in this country? I know, the anniversary of 9/11 is fast approaching where we will be once again reminded that it's the reason why we're fighting them there to avoid fighting them on our soil.
I'll leave you with the lines from poet Robert Herrick, who was born today in 1591:
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying,
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying."
1. Gasoline theft cost retailers nationwide $237 million in 2004 — more than twice the $112 million loss in 2003, according to NACS (National Association of Convenience Stores).
On average, one in every 1,100 fill-ups was a gas theft last year.
“As the price of gas climbs, people’s values decline.” This was uttered after a 54 yr. old service station owner died Friday after being run over by a driver who police believe wasn’t going to pay for $52 worth of fuel. Police are searching for the driver of the gold or tan Jeep-style SUV.
As oil prices approach the $3/gal mark how soon is it going to be that we start seeing security guards at Service Stations?
2. An estimated 119 million Americans, or 64.5 percent, of adults are either overweight or obese and the rate has been rising steadily every year. The percentage of obese adults rose from 23.7 percent in 2003 to 24.5 percent in 2004. The states with the smallest percentage of obese adults are Colorado, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Vermont and Montana.
Unfortunately my middle age spread has contributed to this high percentage even though I live in one of the states with the smallest percentage. I wonder how many other companies are going to come along touting some new fad diet or exercise machine or pill to exploit this tremedous consumer base of 119 million people. Look at the money Atkins made and it hasn't put any dent into the overweight problem. In Alabama, which is one of the states with a high percentage of overweight people, many are on a YoYo diet. A friend of mine who was recently there told me that all he heard was, "Yo, super size that!", or "Yo, let's have some more of those grits."
3. China on Tuesday introduced an “anti-online game addiction system” intended to protect players from the mental and physical perils of spending too much time in front of computers. An estimated 25m Chinese play online role-playing games. Under the new standard, up to three hours of play is considered “healthy” - and more than five to be “unhealthy”.
After five hours online, players will be subjected every 15 minutes to the warning: “You have entered unhealthy game time, please go offline immediately to rest. If you do not your health will be damaged and the benefits you can win will be cut to zero.“
What the heck! If you can't hook them with food then do it with gaming and gambling. Maybe you can combine them both as they do at Mohegan Sun and Foxwoods. Have we lost our common sense? Does anyone have any self control? Warning, reading this is not good for your health. Get out and go for a walk.
4. Pat Robertson's call for American agents to assassinate President Hugo Chavez is a "terrorist" statement that needs to be investigated by U.S. authorities, Venezuela said Tuesday. The Bush administration quickly distanced itself from the religious broadcaster.
Robertson's suggestion Monday that the United States "take out" Chavez to stop Venezuela from becoming a "launching pad for communist influence and Muslim extremism" appeared likely to aggravate tensions between the United States and the world's fifth-largest oil exporting country.
Chavez, who was democratically elected, has emerged as one of the most outspoken critics of President Bush, accusing the United States of conspiring to topple his government and possibly backing plots to assassinate him. The United States is the top buyer of Venezuelan oil, but Chavez has made it clear he wants to decrease the country's dependence on the U.S. market by finding other buyers.
Thanks Pat, I'm glad you got that off your chest and proved once again that even religious leaders have a mean streak in them. When is this nation going to stop stuffing the pockets of thugs like Chavez with billions of dollars from our selfish dependence on their oil?
5. For many Americans, the war is an abstraction. But it is not an abstraction for the innocent Iraqis whose lives have been devastated by our smart bombs. And it certainly is not an abstraction for those of us who have heard the words that change lives forever.
So think of my family's grief -- grief that will never end. Think of all the families. Think of the wounded, the maimed, the psychologically scarred.
And then consider: The preservation of our freedom rests not on U.S. imperialism but on actively changing foreign policies that are conquest-oriented and that dehumanize our own young who become fodder for endless war as well as people in other countries who are so geographically distant that they become abstract.
The answer is not Bush's mantra: "They're jealous of our freedoms."
And, finally, think about flowers: The flowers for Chase Comley will be presented not by grateful Iraqis but by loved ones honoring him as he's lowered to his grave and buried in our hearts.
This was written by the aunt of a Marine who recently lost his life in Iraq. I wonder what Rush Limbaugh is going to do or say to discredit this woman. What is the present administration going to do to counter the swell of anti-war sentiments in this country? I know, the anniversary of 9/11 is fast approaching where we will be once again reminded that it's the reason why we're fighting them there to avoid fighting them on our soil.
I'll leave you with the lines from poet Robert Herrick, who was born today in 1591:
"Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying,
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying."
8.23.2005
A Humble Man
Last Tuesday, August 16, 2005, the world lost a man that the Archbishop of Canterbury called "one of the best loved religious leaders of our time," and of whom President Chirac said was "one of the most remarkable servants of the values of respect and tolerance."The man they're talking about was Brother Roger Schutz, the 90-year-old founder of Taizé. He was stabbed by a deranged woman in front of 2500 young people attending the daily evening service at his community in the south of Burgundy, France.
Even though he was awarded a Templeton Prize and a UNESCO prize for peace education and wrote many books, Brother Roger always kept a low profile.
While the likes of Madonna, Brittany Spears and J Lo go around grabbing all the unnecessary and insignificant attention, great people such as Brother Roger go about doing the Lord's work with very little fanfare.
Brother Roger and the more than 100 brothers who have joined his ecumenical Christian community since 1940 have devoted their lives to working for peace, reconciliation and Christian unity. During World War II they harbored Jewish refugees, just one of many ways they have actively expressed their love for the downtrodden. The brothers all work for a living, and do not accept donations.
Brother Roger attended and received Communion at Pope John Paul's funeral. He is now on his way to join Pope John Paul to rest in eternal peace.
Buck - Buck
Here's a picture of one of the many diversions we had as kids growing up in the North End back in the 50's and 60's. You see, we didn't have the luxuries the spoiled brats have today, but I'm glad we didn't. This game was called Buck-Buck and it didn't require anything extra, other that a strong will and a strong back. If this game was played today, I'm sure some well meaning organization looking out for the safety of children, would require that some means of protective equipment be worn.
This game in other areas was also known as Johnny on the Pony or Longhorse and is a variant of an ancient Roman game of How Many Horns Has The Buck. To play the game you would form two teams consisting of 3 - 5 persons. Two captains would 'buck-up', a form of determining who would select first, to start choosing the make up of the teams. As a captain you would choose the heaviest and/or strongest kid available. I would always hope and pray that I ended up on the team with fat Ronny (God rest his soul) who weighed a solid 300 lbs.
Once the teams were formed, the two captains would square off to determine which team jumped first. You always wanted to be on the offense. The team on defense had to form a horse. One person would stand with their back to a wall. Other members of the team would bend down and hold onto one leg of the person in front of them, like a line attached to a pole. One player at a time from the opposite team would run and leap upon the first team. Each member of the opposition did the same in turn. The object was to force the team being jumped on to collapse.
As simple as the game was, there was strategy on both sides. The team that formed the horse had to position the stronger kids in the middle and back and the jumping team would select the order of jumping. You generally wanted your biggest and heaviest person to go last.
If you were successful in maintaining the horse intact then the last jumper would hold up a number of fingers saying, "Buck Buck, how many fingers up?" If you guessed the right number then the teams would switch positions. If not the jumping team would get another round at jumping.
The game would generally last no longer than 30 minutes, simply because you couldn't endure more of a pounding especially if you were the team that didn't have fat Ronny on it. This was one game where you could legitimately take out your frustrations on a member of the opposing team. I never saw any one get seriously hurt, other than getting a few bruises and a sore back.
The bumps and bruises would be forgotten by all the laughter that emanated from the pile of bodies caused by the weight of the jumpers. This was a game where you were forced to get very intimate with your friends and there was always one wiseguy who would let you know that he had pasta fasool the night before. There was no lingering on top of each other, especially when he cut loose.
When the game ended we would all go to Joe's Variety store to get a drink and a snack and then move on to play a game called errors. The calories consumed from the Twinkies and Coke that we just had would be burned off in the next hour.
8.22.2005
What's In a Name
When you look at the picture above, do you see any Brandons, or Kyles, or Rashads, or Treys, or Brads, or Brices, or Myles? Of course not! That's Tony, Frankie, Joey and Sal. Those names stood for something. Tony was for Sant' Antonio, the patron saint of Italy. Frankie was for San Francisco, the patron saint of New jersey who used to watch over Frank Sinatra. Joey for San Giuseppe, the best step father of them all whose feastday on March 19 should be celebrated with more fervor than the Irish do for St. Patrick. Salvatore means saviour, which refers to Our Lord Jesus Christ.Add these to Vinnie, Mike, Carmine, Jimmy, Louie and Johnny and you have the majority of names in my neighborhood in the 60's. If Vinnie was to ever meet Kyle, he would probably give him a nouggie just for having a name like that. As we got older and ventured out of the North End to go to high school that's when we met kids named Brandon and Myles etc. These kids didn't seem healthy. Their complexion was pale in comparison to Carmines' olive glow from head to toe. They didn't eat the same food that we did and I think that was part of the problem.
When they sat down to lunch they would take their neat little brown bag that had been carefully folded and placed in their book bag. Out of the bag would come one of two sandwiches; it would either be a peanut butter and jelly sandwich or a slice of bologna between two pieces of Wonder bread. With this their mothers would pack them an apple and a cookie. It would take them no more than 5 minutes to eat their lunch. They would then take their nice and neat little brown bag fold it up and put it back in their book bags to be used again the next day and maybe all week.
As they were almost finishing along came Vinnie, Frankie and company with their number 10 wrinkled brown bags which were used to carry last Saturday fruits and vegetables purchased at the market. The bags were odd shaped sizes and usually had an oil stain on the bottom. Out of the bag Vinnie would pull out a spacchi (a 12'' piece of bread) wrapped in wax paper that was oozing with either olive oil or gravy. His mother would make sure that he had enough to eat just in case the Russians bombed us and he had to stay in school overnight. Sometimes the submarine sandwich would be filled with sausage and broccoli rape, sometimes a nice frittata of potatoes, peppers and eggs and sometimes with meatballs loaded with gravy. The sandwiches were always loaded and were never dry. Even when they made you a cold cut sub, they didn't put mustard or mayonnaise on it - God forbid, you'd ruin the sandwich. Lettuce, tomatoes, onions, peppers (especially the roasted ones) marinated eggplant, or even broccoli rabe would always be a topping for your lunch and that's what created the oil spill in your bag. Even the tuna on Fridays was the imported kind, packed in you guessed it not water but olive oil.
Our mothers were smart. They made sure that we had all the things that were on that food pyramid chart in one sub. And they didn't have to do any extra work because most of the stuff was left over from the previous night's meal. I would always pray that there would be extra veal cutlets left over that way I would have them for lunch one day a week. It's unfortunate that tupperware didn't exist yet because no matter how carefully they wrapped the sandwiches, after five hours in the bag, everything would smell of either olive oil or gravy. There was always fruit and either anise cookies or some other home made dessert. We had twenty five minutes for lunch and we always needed the full amount to finish what was given us.
We generally sat with a group of boys from East Boston and took up probably a third of the cafeteria. The smorgasborg of smells that emanated from that area was a true testament to the work and love that went into Italian cooking. The Oscar Meyer kids would sit there gawking at us as we took the 20 or so bites that it took to finish one of those wonderful subs. It took them all of five bites and they were done. Sometimes I would be full and would give one them a portion of my sub. I think I could have made some good pocket change if I had taken a few extra sandwiches along. As for our brown papers bags, well you guessed it there was no way to recycle these oil stained bags, they were thrown away.
I will always remember the ride out to Longwood Ave. each day as I headed to school. The Arborway trolley was packed like sardines and we had our olive oil stained bags to prove it.
8.21.2005
Help Retire Tony C's Number
Tony Conigliaro wa born in Revere, Ma and went on to play for the Boston Red Sox in 1963, just one year after signing a contract. He hit a home run in his first major league game. For the season, he hit .290 with 24 home runs over the first five months, but after breaking his arm in August, he saw the Rookie of the Year award go to Minnesota's Tony Oliva. When Conigliaro hit 32 homers the following season, he become, at age 20, the youngest home run champion in the history of the American League. He had also become the youngest person to reach 100 homers.
Off the field, Tony C's popularity allowed him to pursue another interest: singing! He cut several records on the RCA and Penn Tone labels.
But on August 18, 1967, Tony C's life would change forever. During a night game at Fenway Park, Conigliaro was hit in the face by a fastball from California Angels' pitcher Jack Hamilton. He suffered a broken cheekbone and temporarily lost the sight in his left eye, causing him to miss the 1968 season.
Conigliaro returned in 1969, winning the Comeback Player of the Year award. In '70, he belted 36 homers and it appeared, his career was back on track. But vision problems continued to bother him and he left the big leagues in 1971. He attempted a brief comeback in 1975 but it failed.
In 1982, Conigliaro suffered a heart attack while returning from an audition for the Red Sox telecasts. He was never the same and on February 24, 1990, this seemingly indestructible hero died at the age of 45.
The Boston Red Sox and their new owners are seriously considering retiring Tony Conigliaro's number 25.
If you are interested in helping out, please send a personal note to the Red Sox asking them to retire Tony's number 25:
To Write the Red Sox:
Boston Red Sox
4 Yawkey Way
Boston MA 02215-3496
Thanks for your support!
Bottle Redemption Blues
A story in the Boston Sunday Globe revealed that consumers returned and recovered their nickel deposits on only 65.7 percent of the 2.2 billion bottles and cans purchased last year. This was the lowest rate since the bottle deposit law went into effect back in 1983. Last year the State pocketed $35 million in unredeemed bottle fees.
It seems to have gotten harder and harder to redeem bottles and cans. It’s a filthy and time consuming chore to try to recoup the 5 cent deposit. I try to take the empties back to a supermarket when I go shopping because especially now with the increase in gas prices I don’t want to make additional trips – it’s just not cost effective. It’s also become very frustrating because many facilities that have machines don’t accept everything, that’s if the machines are not full or broken. If you buy a store brand item, you just can’t return it at any old place – you have to go to the store where you brought it from. I don’t always shop at the same chain store because I’m forced to switch and go where I can get the best bargains that particular week.
This whole process has become an effort in futility and just another way that the state can make money (sort of another hidden tax of 5%). Thank God I have space in my house to make the various separations between what’s to be put out in the recycle bin and what is to be redeemed at Shaw’s, Stop & Shop, Roche Bros., Trader Joe’s and the liquor store. The process is now more complex than some of the sort schemes I had to memorize when I sorted mail at the Post Office. And believe me you have to go along way to make things more complex than they do at the Post Office. Just ask anyone that’s moved and had their mail forwarded.
My garage is where I make the 7 to 8 separations. What do people with limited space such as apartments do? I’m even tempted to make a separation of bottles that can only be redeemed in Maine. I just have to find a way to remember to take them whenever I’m headed there.
Last week someone in my household screwed up the sort plan I had cleverly devised. Just like in the Post Office someone came along and threw some bottles in the wrong bin. The Post Office cleverly calls these errors mis-sorts. Unbeknownst to little old me, I picked up two full bags and headed to the supermarket. When I got there, I started the process of feeding the plastic bottles eating machines. When I got a third of the way through, the bottles being fed were rejected. That’s when I realized that half the bag was full of missorted bottles (non redeemables). These were the ones that should have been placed in the blue box that has all the recyclables that go out in the trash pickup.
I decided that I wasn’t going to give these a return trip home and threw them out in the supermarket’s trash. When I was through I hit the button and got a little slip with a credit of 95 cents. I did my shopping and purchased more of these bottles that would eventually have to find their way back here. I headed home making plans along the way about the retraining I would have to do at home. First I had to find the culprit who didn’t know my scheme.
When I got home I decided to retrain all five people in the house and I even had them sign off on a training sheet like they do in the Post Office, that way I could hold them responsible when they said “I don’t know" in future. As I reached in my shirt pocket to get a pen, I pulled up the 95 cents credit receipt I had gotten from the bottle return machine. Darn! All that and I forgot to redeem that stupid piece of paper. Now I would have to wait until I went to the store again. I had one other thing to remember to take along with me the next time.
It’s become a real hassle and I think it’s time that we push to change this law ASAP. What do you think?
It seems to have gotten harder and harder to redeem bottles and cans. It’s a filthy and time consuming chore to try to recoup the 5 cent deposit. I try to take the empties back to a supermarket when I go shopping because especially now with the increase in gas prices I don’t want to make additional trips – it’s just not cost effective. It’s also become very frustrating because many facilities that have machines don’t accept everything, that’s if the machines are not full or broken. If you buy a store brand item, you just can’t return it at any old place – you have to go to the store where you brought it from. I don’t always shop at the same chain store because I’m forced to switch and go where I can get the best bargains that particular week.
This whole process has become an effort in futility and just another way that the state can make money (sort of another hidden tax of 5%). Thank God I have space in my house to make the various separations between what’s to be put out in the recycle bin and what is to be redeemed at Shaw’s, Stop & Shop, Roche Bros., Trader Joe’s and the liquor store. The process is now more complex than some of the sort schemes I had to memorize when I sorted mail at the Post Office. And believe me you have to go along way to make things more complex than they do at the Post Office. Just ask anyone that’s moved and had their mail forwarded.
My garage is where I make the 7 to 8 separations. What do people with limited space such as apartments do? I’m even tempted to make a separation of bottles that can only be redeemed in Maine. I just have to find a way to remember to take them whenever I’m headed there.
Last week someone in my household screwed up the sort plan I had cleverly devised. Just like in the Post Office someone came along and threw some bottles in the wrong bin. The Post Office cleverly calls these errors mis-sorts. Unbeknownst to little old me, I picked up two full bags and headed to the supermarket. When I got there, I started the process of feeding the plastic bottles eating machines. When I got a third of the way through, the bottles being fed were rejected. That’s when I realized that half the bag was full of missorted bottles (non redeemables). These were the ones that should have been placed in the blue box that has all the recyclables that go out in the trash pickup.
I decided that I wasn’t going to give these a return trip home and threw them out in the supermarket’s trash. When I was through I hit the button and got a little slip with a credit of 95 cents. I did my shopping and purchased more of these bottles that would eventually have to find their way back here. I headed home making plans along the way about the retraining I would have to do at home. First I had to find the culprit who didn’t know my scheme.
When I got home I decided to retrain all five people in the house and I even had them sign off on a training sheet like they do in the Post Office, that way I could hold them responsible when they said “I don’t know" in future. As I reached in my shirt pocket to get a pen, I pulled up the 95 cents credit receipt I had gotten from the bottle return machine. Darn! All that and I forgot to redeem that stupid piece of paper. Now I would have to wait until I went to the store again. I had one other thing to remember to take along with me the next time.
It’s become a real hassle and I think it’s time that we push to change this law ASAP. What do you think?
God's Goodness
We think that we're self sufficient,
But we can't survive without the air we breathe.
We are totally dependent on nature to be efficient,
Along with fervently praying the Apostle's Creed.
God created and gave us nature,
To sustain us and also for our enjoyment.
From the sun, moon, stars, to the tiniest creatures,
God gives us free will to share in his wonderment.
We can climb mountains or ski down their slopes.
Hike in the forests, surf or scuba dive.
We immerse our hands in the earth to plant and hope,
Praying for a harvest to feed ten thousand and five.
The immensity of nature pales in comparison,
With the immensity of God being hard to grasp.
We stand in awe of majestic mountains like a partisan
Watches how God bends his knee to lift us up at last.
Even when we are immersed in sin,
He offers forgiveness and welcomes us home.
We are called to love God and enter in,
To give thanks and praise, for He never leaves us alone.
- Lino Viola
8.20.2005
Bush's Bike Ride or Baghdad Bob in Crawford
I'm sick and tired of hearing about Bush's escapades on his Crawford ranch. The latest is that he is going to take a bike ride with Lance Armstrong. Good for him. Frankly I don't care, hearing his name is starting to upset me. I don't hate the guy, but everytime I hear his name I immediately start thinking about the kids he's put in harm's way. All I can think about was that shameless stunt of having him land on an aircraft carrier claiming victory. To me he has turned into the American version of Baghdad Bob. These guys think they're on Saturday Night Live.
Ever since the assassination of President Kennedy, I disliked everything about Texas. If I were to go through one of those word association games and someone mentioned Texas, I would think of Kennedy's death, LBJ, Jack Ruby, the Dallas Cowboys being touted as 'America's Team', and now I add to that list George Bush. Each one of these gets me angry.
Sharing the news with Bush's bike ride is the declaration that, "some Pentagon officials now acknowledge that the two-and-a-half-year insurgent war has turned Iraq into a terrorist training camp." Wow, what a revelation! And it took them only two-and-a-half years to make this discovery. A first grader attending PS 105 in New York could have told you that after watching only one week's worth of nightly newscasts. Notice that the article says some. The others must still think that is a great place to take a vacation and see all the wondrous sites mentioned in the Bible.
Everything I read gets me boiling mad. Iraq, with all our troops and coalition forces and newly trained soldiers has become a primary training ground for terrorism. NBC News terrorism analyst Roger Cressey said, “Instead of going in to eliminate Iraq as a source of terrorism, Iraq now has a stronger terrorist presence than it did when Saddam Hussein was in power.” That proves that the plan (Rummy, Cheney, Bush, Rice, Rove) was flawed from the beginning. Why didn't they listen to Powell? What the heck he was only a military man, you'd think he'd have some experience.
The article continues with the following tidbit. U.S. intelligence indicates Islamic militants from several African nations — Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Sudan and Somalia — travel through Syria into Iraq, where they get hands-on training in roadside and suicide bombings, assassinations and kidnappings as well as counter-surveillance and counter-intelligence against military targets, constantly changing their tactics to counter American defenses.
Again this proves the fact that we needed more troops from the onset. We don't have enough to do the job properly and I'm afraid that's it's too late. In February 2003, General Eric Shinseki told the Senate armed services committee that the Bush Administration would need to keep a large force in Iraq even after a war to curb ethnic tensions and provide humanitarian aid. He said that we needed 200,000 troops to do the job effectivly. Why didn't they listen to another military expert? One senior defense official said the general simply "misspoke". I wonder who this senior defense official was?
The article continues with the following;
Pentagon officials now fear those freshly trained terrorists are taking the deadly lessons they learn in Iraq to other countries. U.S. intelligence indicates many of the militants are returning home or slipping into Europe, where they may join existing terrorist groups or create and train new cells of their own.
We started out trying to catch Osama Bin Laden. When we couldn't do it we decided to get old man Hussein. While we spent all our resources in catching Hussein, Bin Laden has been able to increase his band of terrorists and continues to elude us.
As in football, a good offense is the best defense. In football you need all eleven men to put out the best effort. Bush and his coaches thinking that his team was far superior decided to play with only 7 men. Bush, you should have realized from the beginning that your forte is baseball, a passive game, and not to get involved in football, a more violent sport. In football if your plan fails your only loss is a game but in war it's people lives. Your faulty plan has cost the lives of thousands of innocent people.
Maybe if you take your bike ride with Lance Armstrong in the middle Baghdad will I regain some respect for you and your presidency.
Ever since the assassination of President Kennedy, I disliked everything about Texas. If I were to go through one of those word association games and someone mentioned Texas, I would think of Kennedy's death, LBJ, Jack Ruby, the Dallas Cowboys being touted as 'America's Team', and now I add to that list George Bush. Each one of these gets me angry.
Sharing the news with Bush's bike ride is the declaration that, "some Pentagon officials now acknowledge that the two-and-a-half-year insurgent war has turned Iraq into a terrorist training camp." Wow, what a revelation! And it took them only two-and-a-half years to make this discovery. A first grader attending PS 105 in New York could have told you that after watching only one week's worth of nightly newscasts. Notice that the article says some. The others must still think that is a great place to take a vacation and see all the wondrous sites mentioned in the Bible.
Everything I read gets me boiling mad. Iraq, with all our troops and coalition forces and newly trained soldiers has become a primary training ground for terrorism. NBC News terrorism analyst Roger Cressey said, “Instead of going in to eliminate Iraq as a source of terrorism, Iraq now has a stronger terrorist presence than it did when Saddam Hussein was in power.” That proves that the plan (Rummy, Cheney, Bush, Rice, Rove) was flawed from the beginning. Why didn't they listen to Powell? What the heck he was only a military man, you'd think he'd have some experience.
The article continues with the following tidbit. U.S. intelligence indicates Islamic militants from several African nations — Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, Sudan and Somalia — travel through Syria into Iraq, where they get hands-on training in roadside and suicide bombings, assassinations and kidnappings as well as counter-surveillance and counter-intelligence against military targets, constantly changing their tactics to counter American defenses.
Again this proves the fact that we needed more troops from the onset. We don't have enough to do the job properly and I'm afraid that's it's too late. In February 2003, General Eric Shinseki told the Senate armed services committee that the Bush Administration would need to keep a large force in Iraq even after a war to curb ethnic tensions and provide humanitarian aid. He said that we needed 200,000 troops to do the job effectivly. Why didn't they listen to another military expert? One senior defense official said the general simply "misspoke". I wonder who this senior defense official was?
The article continues with the following;
Pentagon officials now fear those freshly trained terrorists are taking the deadly lessons they learn in Iraq to other countries. U.S. intelligence indicates many of the militants are returning home or slipping into Europe, where they may join existing terrorist groups or create and train new cells of their own.
We started out trying to catch Osama Bin Laden. When we couldn't do it we decided to get old man Hussein. While we spent all our resources in catching Hussein, Bin Laden has been able to increase his band of terrorists and continues to elude us.
As in football, a good offense is the best defense. In football you need all eleven men to put out the best effort. Bush and his coaches thinking that his team was far superior decided to play with only 7 men. Bush, you should have realized from the beginning that your forte is baseball, a passive game, and not to get involved in football, a more violent sport. In football if your plan fails your only loss is a game but in war it's people lives. Your faulty plan has cost the lives of thousands of innocent people.
Maybe if you take your bike ride with Lance Armstrong in the middle Baghdad will I regain some respect for you and your presidency.
8.19.2005
A Necessary Evil?
There are some things that just don't make sense to me - maybe someone can shed some light on them. This morning I read that, "NASA will not launch the next shuttle mission until March 4, at the earliest, because the agency is still working to figure out how to prevent hazardous debris from falling off the external fuel tank during ascent, officials said Thursday."
Well before we do that, let's figure out to properly pave the streets of Boston that we drive on everyday. It seems like between NSTAR, Keyspan, and the Boston Water and Sewer, not to mention the BIG DIG project that's been around forever, there's a neverending patchwork of holes on our city streets. My 5 year old Passat which I intended to keep for 10 years is quickly being jarred into an early grave.
There's a project currently underway on a major street that runs from Roslindale to West Roxbury that has created one of the largest pieces of Swiss cheese this side of Geneva. I'm sure this problem is not relegated strictly to this area. The problem isn't so much the digging, but the filling of the hole. Why is it that they can never figure out the proper amount of patch to use to fill the hole. And when they don't, why don't they come back to fix it? It never fails, but the day after, the patch in the hole always settles between one to three inches. Don't these people ride on the same streets and see the problems they are creating. I swear that these companies are getting some invisible kickback(s) from the gas stations and auto body shops in the area. I might be wrong, but if I hired someone to wiretap the phones of these locales, I would probably hear a conversation that goes something like this; "Hey Sal, business is a little slow in our area, do me a favor and talk to Joe to see if he can divert some of the digging activities to this area. Don't worry tell them we'll take care of them."
It's hard to remember who's done what job. These companies have more aliases than Billy Bulger. I had a hard time remembering that NSTAR was Boston Edison and Keyspan used to be Boston Gas. I think they do this to confuse people. Doesn't it cost money to change names? What's the benefit to me? Higher rates.
I saw a guy the other day that had just come out of his car after riding over one of those patch jobs that had been completed the day before. As I approached him, he looked dazed. I thought he had been involved in an accident, but I didn't see anyone else around. He had a scratch on the left side of his face just below his ear and had a fairly large size stain on his pant leg that I first thought might have been blood. What I soon found out was that while he was driving, talking on his cell phone which he had in his left hand, he hit that hole, jarring the hand that the phone was in into his face, causing the scratch. Since he had the window open his cell phone fell out. The stain on his pant leg was caused by the Iced Coffee that was jarred out of the cup holder on the dash. Even the God Bless America magnet was jolted off the back of the car.
We found the phone about 40 feet away. Even though the case was damaged it was still operable (a true testament to the 'Can You Hear Me Now Company'). As he was going back to his car, he realized that he lost one of his hubcaps. From across the street we heard a voice saying, 'Are you looking for this?' My mouth dropped when I saw a mechanic from the gas station standing there holding the hub cap with the cat that ate the mouse look in his eyes. A script to this scenario couldn't have been written any better by the most gifted playright. The hub cap rolled right into the service station's driveway as if it knew that that's where it eventually would have to go.
Just as I left the man who had now brought his vehicle into the gas station, I heard a few more cars pass by over this indentation. They were lucky, that nothing happened. When I arrived home, I made numerous calls to City Hall and finally got someone who said that they would go and check it out. I just hope she wasn't related to the man in the gas station (sorry for being cynical).
I often heard say that, "A car in a necessary evil." Is it necessary to spend $2000 on insurance, $1400 in gas and rising by the week, and God knows what on maintenance each year? I figure that it costs me between $5,000 - $6,000 per yr. assuming that the car is paid for. At this sum, it's not necessary, it's evil to maintain a car. There are other alternatives.
Well before we do that, let's figure out to properly pave the streets of Boston that we drive on everyday. It seems like between NSTAR, Keyspan, and the Boston Water and Sewer, not to mention the BIG DIG project that's been around forever, there's a neverending patchwork of holes on our city streets. My 5 year old Passat which I intended to keep for 10 years is quickly being jarred into an early grave.
There's a project currently underway on a major street that runs from Roslindale to West Roxbury that has created one of the largest pieces of Swiss cheese this side of Geneva. I'm sure this problem is not relegated strictly to this area. The problem isn't so much the digging, but the filling of the hole. Why is it that they can never figure out the proper amount of patch to use to fill the hole. And when they don't, why don't they come back to fix it? It never fails, but the day after, the patch in the hole always settles between one to three inches. Don't these people ride on the same streets and see the problems they are creating. I swear that these companies are getting some invisible kickback(s) from the gas stations and auto body shops in the area. I might be wrong, but if I hired someone to wiretap the phones of these locales, I would probably hear a conversation that goes something like this; "Hey Sal, business is a little slow in our area, do me a favor and talk to Joe to see if he can divert some of the digging activities to this area. Don't worry tell them we'll take care of them."
It's hard to remember who's done what job. These companies have more aliases than Billy Bulger. I had a hard time remembering that NSTAR was Boston Edison and Keyspan used to be Boston Gas. I think they do this to confuse people. Doesn't it cost money to change names? What's the benefit to me? Higher rates.
I saw a guy the other day that had just come out of his car after riding over one of those patch jobs that had been completed the day before. As I approached him, he looked dazed. I thought he had been involved in an accident, but I didn't see anyone else around. He had a scratch on the left side of his face just below his ear and had a fairly large size stain on his pant leg that I first thought might have been blood. What I soon found out was that while he was driving, talking on his cell phone which he had in his left hand, he hit that hole, jarring the hand that the phone was in into his face, causing the scratch. Since he had the window open his cell phone fell out. The stain on his pant leg was caused by the Iced Coffee that was jarred out of the cup holder on the dash. Even the God Bless America magnet was jolted off the back of the car.
We found the phone about 40 feet away. Even though the case was damaged it was still operable (a true testament to the 'Can You Hear Me Now Company'). As he was going back to his car, he realized that he lost one of his hubcaps. From across the street we heard a voice saying, 'Are you looking for this?' My mouth dropped when I saw a mechanic from the gas station standing there holding the hub cap with the cat that ate the mouse look in his eyes. A script to this scenario couldn't have been written any better by the most gifted playright. The hub cap rolled right into the service station's driveway as if it knew that that's where it eventually would have to go.
Just as I left the man who had now brought his vehicle into the gas station, I heard a few more cars pass by over this indentation. They were lucky, that nothing happened. When I arrived home, I made numerous calls to City Hall and finally got someone who said that they would go and check it out. I just hope she wasn't related to the man in the gas station (sorry for being cynical).
I often heard say that, "A car in a necessary evil." Is it necessary to spend $2000 on insurance, $1400 in gas and rising by the week, and God knows what on maintenance each year? I figure that it costs me between $5,000 - $6,000 per yr. assuming that the car is paid for. At this sum, it's not necessary, it's evil to maintain a car. There are other alternatives.
8.17.2005
Gratitude
This is for the many times I forgot to Thank all that helped along the way - this thanks is for you!
Thanks for being you,
and at times for telling me what to do.
Thanks for lending me an ear,
and for bringing me some cheer.
Thanks for your good wishes,
to my life you brought some richness.
Thanks for your wonderful smile,
it lifted my gloom for awhile.
Thanks for the inspiration,
during tough times and tribulation.
Thanks for being the glue,
and for fostering harmony too.
Thanks for volunteering,
when others were disappearing.
Thanks for all you did for me.
May the Lord grant you health, peace and prosperity.
Lino Viola
3 balls 2 strikes
I don't remember whether I heard it from someone or read it somewhere or maybe both but I was reminded this morning of the following :
Many of the people in mental hospitals are there because they are living in the past or in the future. Think about your own life's circumstances and see if this doesn't hold water. You might not know of anyone in a mental hospital, but I'm pretty sure you know some that maybe belong there. I'm not making light of mental hospitals for they serve a beneficial service to society.
What happens if you continuously go about your daily affairs thinking about yesterday's mistakes or hurts or spats or disagreements?
What if you constantly think and fret about tomorrow? Constantly worrying about what to come.
I would venture to say that you are not living today. You are probably missing out on many opportunities because of yesterday's and tomorrow's blinders that are around your eyes. You can stuff yourself with either anti-depressants or anxiety pills but until you learn to reconcile the past and forget about tomorrow you're not going to feel good about your life. You will probably end up with some form of illness. There's a religious group or organization that has a wonderful saying, "Let go, and Let God."
Short but sweet but it packs tremendous meaning and a great philosophy on life. Let go of all your troubles and let God worry about them. Have faith in Him for He is the only one that knows about your past, present and future. Stop being a backseat driver and let Him take control. Just trust Him.
I often relate my life to baseball. I'm up at bat and have three balls and two strikes on me. The next pitch is my today. I have to think about what I'm doing right now. I can't worry about the other five pitches that were thrown to me. I did make three good decisions and didn't swing at those three balls, but I also swung and missed twice for strikes. This next pitch could have a lot riding on it. The bases might be loaded and your team is behind and there are two outs. There's a lot of pressure on you to do your best. Like life, you don't know what type of pitch is coming next. It could be a fast ball, a curve, a slider, a change up or maybe a knuckle ball. How can you worry about all that.
A professional calls time for a few seconds, regains his composure, forgets what's been done and does not worry about what's to come. He takes a deep breath, relaxes himself and focuses on the moment and lives it to the fullest. He steps back into the batter's box ready to take on whatever is to come. The result could be, hitting a home run or a single or walking or maybe even striking out. Whatever it is, it's ok. Learn to accept it whatever it maybe and go on to the next second of your life, because that's all you have. Just do your best. Once that's past, it's gone. You can't reach back into that box and bring it out again to relive it. Sorry, that's not how it goes.
The analogy I presented can't compare to life. I just use it as an example. One is a game the other is your life and probably many other lives that are intertwined with yours. It is very hard to understand and comprehend the fragility of life. Here today, gone tomorrow? No, here this second gone the next second. I can go on and on you see because I'm still working on letting go, so I'll leave you with this:
As children bring their broken toys, with tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God because He is my friend.
But then instead of leaving Him in peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help, with ways that were my own.
At last, I snatched them back again and cried, "How can you be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "what could I do? You never did let them go."
Many of the people in mental hospitals are there because they are living in the past or in the future. Think about your own life's circumstances and see if this doesn't hold water. You might not know of anyone in a mental hospital, but I'm pretty sure you know some that maybe belong there. I'm not making light of mental hospitals for they serve a beneficial service to society.
What happens if you continuously go about your daily affairs thinking about yesterday's mistakes or hurts or spats or disagreements?
What if you constantly think and fret about tomorrow? Constantly worrying about what to come.
I would venture to say that you are not living today. You are probably missing out on many opportunities because of yesterday's and tomorrow's blinders that are around your eyes. You can stuff yourself with either anti-depressants or anxiety pills but until you learn to reconcile the past and forget about tomorrow you're not going to feel good about your life. You will probably end up with some form of illness. There's a religious group or organization that has a wonderful saying, "Let go, and Let God."
Short but sweet but it packs tremendous meaning and a great philosophy on life. Let go of all your troubles and let God worry about them. Have faith in Him for He is the only one that knows about your past, present and future. Stop being a backseat driver and let Him take control. Just trust Him.
I often relate my life to baseball. I'm up at bat and have three balls and two strikes on me. The next pitch is my today. I have to think about what I'm doing right now. I can't worry about the other five pitches that were thrown to me. I did make three good decisions and didn't swing at those three balls, but I also swung and missed twice for strikes. This next pitch could have a lot riding on it. The bases might be loaded and your team is behind and there are two outs. There's a lot of pressure on you to do your best. Like life, you don't know what type of pitch is coming next. It could be a fast ball, a curve, a slider, a change up or maybe a knuckle ball. How can you worry about all that.
A professional calls time for a few seconds, regains his composure, forgets what's been done and does not worry about what's to come. He takes a deep breath, relaxes himself and focuses on the moment and lives it to the fullest. He steps back into the batter's box ready to take on whatever is to come. The result could be, hitting a home run or a single or walking or maybe even striking out. Whatever it is, it's ok. Learn to accept it whatever it maybe and go on to the next second of your life, because that's all you have. Just do your best. Once that's past, it's gone. You can't reach back into that box and bring it out again to relive it. Sorry, that's not how it goes.
The analogy I presented can't compare to life. I just use it as an example. One is a game the other is your life and probably many other lives that are intertwined with yours. It is very hard to understand and comprehend the fragility of life. Here today, gone tomorrow? No, here this second gone the next second. I can go on and on you see because I'm still working on letting go, so I'll leave you with this:
As children bring their broken toys, with tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God because He is my friend.
But then instead of leaving Him in peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help, with ways that were my own.
At last, I snatched them back again and cried, "How can you be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "what could I do? You never did let them go."
8.16.2005
Shopping Fools
Congratulations to all the retail outlets on such a successful weekend. They are calling this past weekend Christmas in August. They say a normal August weekend might generate $150 million in sales and when all the numbers are tallied in a few weeks this could end up being the most profitable weekend of the year, beating the $500 million in sales that shops usually reap during the final weekend rush in late December. And it's going to top the $400 million mark achieved last year, the first year when the state suspended the 5 percent sales tax. The goal next year is to reach $1 billion - I know we can do it! We need to further help the global economy.
Our trade deficit continues to climb. Total June exports of $106.8 billion and imports of $165.6 billion resulted in a goods and services deficit of $58.8 billion. Our deficit with China alone is up 30%. What's a mere $58.8 billion among friends? When I was young, "Made in Japan" was a sign of an inferior product, now the inferior product is labeled 'Made in USA', that's if you can find any.
I find it amazing that all it took to mobilize thousands of people who would not normally be shopping on a hot August weekend was the mere dangling of a carrot that constituted just lifting the 5% sales tax. People are too lazy to return cans and bottles to collect 5 cents but will travel many miles to save 5 cents on the dollar. Wow!! Just think if I double the offer, I might be able to clear out a whole community. Very clever. It doesn't take much of an incentive to get people out to go shopping.
While most rejoiced, some retailers smirked at how many consumers were lured by savings that are modest compared with the discounts most stores offer on occasion. One store manager said he thinks people want to buy because they are saving money at the expense of the government. Well I hope you spent enough to cover the cost of the gas you consumed to get to the store. What the state lost in sales tax they recouped in gasoline taxes.
I would venture to say that more people were out shopping in one day than showed up to vote in the last major election. Maybe we should offer a tax free day voucher to all who vote, much like the 'get out of jail free' card that's used in the Monopoly board game. But this time raise the spending cap to $50,000. I'd like to buy one of those hybrid vehicles.
Governor you started a trend and you should take this one step further, since we don't have a holiday in August, declare the second Monday in August as a Shopping Holiday and extend the sales tax free days to three. I would like to get a jump on my Xmas shopping.
I am glad for the merchants and retailers who profited from the sales tax free shopping days. Now if the Mayor can only give some incentive for people to go and eat out in the North End, we could pacify many of the restaurant owners there who suffered a loss this weekend due to the unexpected power disruptions in the area. Tom, how about lifting the meals tax and giving everyone free parking for a week. Free cannoli's for all!
We truly are a nation of SHOPPING FOOLS! As they say on Seinfeld, 'Not that there's anything wrong with that.'
Our trade deficit continues to climb. Total June exports of $106.8 billion and imports of $165.6 billion resulted in a goods and services deficit of $58.8 billion. Our deficit with China alone is up 30%. What's a mere $58.8 billion among friends? When I was young, "Made in Japan" was a sign of an inferior product, now the inferior product is labeled 'Made in USA', that's if you can find any.
I find it amazing that all it took to mobilize thousands of people who would not normally be shopping on a hot August weekend was the mere dangling of a carrot that constituted just lifting the 5% sales tax. People are too lazy to return cans and bottles to collect 5 cents but will travel many miles to save 5 cents on the dollar. Wow!! Just think if I double the offer, I might be able to clear out a whole community. Very clever. It doesn't take much of an incentive to get people out to go shopping.
While most rejoiced, some retailers smirked at how many consumers were lured by savings that are modest compared with the discounts most stores offer on occasion. One store manager said he thinks people want to buy because they are saving money at the expense of the government. Well I hope you spent enough to cover the cost of the gas you consumed to get to the store. What the state lost in sales tax they recouped in gasoline taxes.
I would venture to say that more people were out shopping in one day than showed up to vote in the last major election. Maybe we should offer a tax free day voucher to all who vote, much like the 'get out of jail free' card that's used in the Monopoly board game. But this time raise the spending cap to $50,000. I'd like to buy one of those hybrid vehicles.
Governor you started a trend and you should take this one step further, since we don't have a holiday in August, declare the second Monday in August as a Shopping Holiday and extend the sales tax free days to three. I would like to get a jump on my Xmas shopping.
I am glad for the merchants and retailers who profited from the sales tax free shopping days. Now if the Mayor can only give some incentive for people to go and eat out in the North End, we could pacify many of the restaurant owners there who suffered a loss this weekend due to the unexpected power disruptions in the area. Tom, how about lifting the meals tax and giving everyone free parking for a week. Free cannoli's for all!
We truly are a nation of SHOPPING FOOLS! As they say on Seinfeld, 'Not that there's anything wrong with that.'
8.15.2005
Breakfast of Champions?
I've had Wheaties occasionally over the course of my lifetime, not because they were touted as "The Breakfast of Champions", but because they appealed to my taste and were somewhat healthier than some of the sugar coated stuff that's on the market.
Wheaties began its association with sports in the mid-1930s with a sign on the left field wall at Nicollet Park near downtown Minneapolis. General Mills' broadcast deal with the minor league Minneapolis Millers on WCCO Radio included the large signboard that Wheaties would use to introduce its new ad slogan: "Wheaties—The Breakfast of Champions." From that rather humble beginning, Wheaties has built a heritage that includes many of the greatest sports figures of all time.
This special package honoring Rafael Palmiero's achievement of reaching the 500 home run milestone was issued in September 2003 in celebration of Hispanic Heritage Month.
"Raffy represents the best ideals that Wheaties stands for," Wheaties Marketing Manager Brian Kittelson said. "He continues to quietly put up incredible numbers that will one day distinguish him as one of the best players of our time. We are very happy to welcome Rafael Palmeiro into the Wheaties family."
I am not ready to pass judgement on this man in light of what's come out about baseball's steroid debacle but I wonder if General Mills is going to change their criteria in selecting who to honor on their boxes of cereal. I hope that when all comes out he will be distinguished and not extinguished.
What would make him a true "Breakfast of Champions" kind of guy for me is to stand up and tell the truth.
I'm sure that I'll still continue to have a bowl of Wheaties once in a while but from now on when I look at the Champion who's pictured on the box, I'll take solace in knowing that he probably is not any different than you and me. He has his faults just like the rest of us.
General Mills, maybe it would be better suited if you changed the slogan for Wheaties to be "Breakfast of Chumps!"
Ferragosto
Ferragosto has been a holiday in Italy since Roman times, when it was called "feriae Augusti” in honor of the Emperor Augustus. In later times August 15th become a Christian festivity to celebrate the Assumption of the Virgin Mary.
As a tourist, this is probably the worst time to visit Italy, especially if you're into shopping. You will find many stores with a "chiuso per ferie" closed for vacation signs. It seems that all the locals head out to either the beaches or the mountains for at least this middle week of August with some taking the whole month off and even those who don't actually go away will at least take a day trip to the seaside or go for a picnic in the country on August 15th.
This weekend saw 20 million Italians in 10 million vehicles hit the roads in start of their vacation. Traffic is a nightmare. I remember getting caught up in this the last time I visited. A two hour trip became a 6 hour nightmare due to the bumper to bumper traffic on the highways.
I would never go to Italy in August. Best months are June and September.
As a tourist, this is probably the worst time to visit Italy, especially if you're into shopping. You will find many stores with a "chiuso per ferie" closed for vacation signs. It seems that all the locals head out to either the beaches or the mountains for at least this middle week of August with some taking the whole month off and even those who don't actually go away will at least take a day trip to the seaside or go for a picnic in the country on August 15th.
This weekend saw 20 million Italians in 10 million vehicles hit the roads in start of their vacation. Traffic is a nightmare. I remember getting caught up in this the last time I visited. A two hour trip became a 6 hour nightmare due to the bumper to bumper traffic on the highways.
I would never go to Italy in August. Best months are June and September.
V-J Day
Sixty years ago today the Allies officially declared V-J Day, signaling the end of WWII. Wouldn't it be nice if we could do the same today.
The end of WWII brought the beginning of one of the most prosperous and peaceful periods in American history. In the year after World War II ended, Detroit produced 2.1 million cars, a 2500% increase from the year before.
Hundreds of thousands of happy couples had romantic reunions after the end of World War II, and nine months after V-J day, in May, 1946, 233,452 babies were born in the United States. It was the largest number of babies that had ever been born in a single month in American history. By the end of 1946, 3.4 million babies had been born, the largest generation of Americans ever born at that point, the birth of the 'Baby Boomers.'
More than anything else, these new American families wanted houses. The country became so crowded that more than a half million families were living in Quonset huts. These were cheap, lightweight, portable structures that could be put up by untrained people as requested by the Navy Department. The Quonset hut (name comes from first site of manufacture, Quonset, RI) skeleton was a row of semi-circular steel ribs covered with corrugated sheet metal. The ribs sat on a low steel-frame foundation with a plywood floor. The basic model was 20 feet wide and 48 feet long with 720 square feet of usable floor space. The larger model was 40 by 100 feet.
Around 170,000 Quonset huts were produced during the war, and were too good a resource to throw away. So the military sold them to civilians for about a thousand dollars each. They made serviceable single-family homes for returning vets. The structure pictured above in Buckeye, Colorado was augmented with a fireplace to serve as a farm cottage.
Many newly married couples had to move in with their families. The government provided a mortgage program for returning soldiers, and developers began to build houses by the tens of thousands. The most famous developments were built by the Levitts of Long Island, NY, who built approximately 140,000 houses. The average house in Levittown cost about $8,000 and had an average mortgage of $65.00 a month. When people first moved into the new neighborhoods, there were no streets or streelights, and the lawns had yet to grow grass. But every new house included a stove, a refrigerator, and a washing machine.
For many Americans this would be one of the greatest periods in the history of our country. This economic boom would last for a good 30 years. So whenever you hear us old timers referring to the good old days, these are the years we are talking about, the time after WWII.
When people recall the good old days, they also recall the brutality of WWII. It was the worst war in history. An estimated 60 million people died; about two-thirds of them were civilians. In the United States, the war had been going on for three years and eight months. About one in every eight Americans served in the war—more than 16 million American soldiers. Virtually every American family had at least one member overseas. With 400,000 Americans killed, most families knew somebody who had died in the war, and the most American casualties had come in the last year of the war.
Unlike the war we are waging today where we only have a small percentage of the country impacted, Americans back then had been living under strict food and gas rationing and people tried to keep their lights off after dark to save energy. Every single person in the country had a stake in the war by the sacrifices that were being made in order to support our troops.
Now we support our troops by forking over a few bucks and buy some insignificant stick-on ribbon and place it on our gas guzzling SUVs. Thanks, I am glad to know that you support our troops and I'm sure the Ayatollahs thank you for consuming more gas with your gas guzzling vehicle. They can use this money to support the terrorists who ultimately kill our troops and innocent people.
The greatest generation is being replaced by the aloof generation.
"Stay the course!" Easy to say when all your kids are safely tucked in bed.
8.14.2005
What Happened to the Sabbath?
As I was driving to church this morning I started to think about the Sabbath. There are all kinds of references to the Sabbath found in the Bible. One says, "But the seventh day is the sabbath of the LORD thy God: in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy manservant, nor thy maidservant, nor thy cattle, nor thy stranger that is within thy gates:" Exodus 20:10
When I see the word Sabbath written on paper, I automaticaly think of the Italian word Sabbato which means Saturday. This clarifies the confusion I have as to which is the seventh day, the day of rest. If I use the Italian word, Sabbato, which means Sabbath then I should be resting and giving thanks to the Lord on Saturday like the Jewish people do. My Catholic upbringing however tells me different - Sunday is the Lord's day.
I don't want to get caught up on which day the Sabbath is, but want to question the when and why we stopped observing this day as we did in the past whether it be Saturday or Sunday.
Under the "blue laws" of the 1700s, punishments such as whippings, fines, burnt tongues, and severed ears could be invoked for simple misdeeds ranging from shuffleboard to skipping church: such were the Puritan's penalties for breaches of the Sabbath.
In Boston, home of John Winthrop and Cotton Mather, Puritan traditions have thrived. Many recall days, just decades ago, when stores were shuttered on Sundays. "What did we do back then?"
I remember Sunday being set aside as a day to be with family. You would put on your Sunday best, unlike today where people attend church wearing any old thing, and you would spend some time with the Lord. I had to attend the 9:00 AM Mass (the one designated for my classmates from St. Mary's School) at St. Mary's Church on Endicott St. I would go home after church and prepare to make the weekly journey out to Revere where we would have dinner with my step-father's brother and wife. The rest of the day was spent relaxing and seeing other family members who would come to visit later. Other family members visiting meant the arrival of more food. The dinner table was not cleared off until the last person left late that evening. The 3 F's would rule on Sunday, Family, Food and Frivolity.
Laws making Sunday a day of rest began deteriorating during World War II, when women entered the manufacturing sector. A hundred years ago, women could shop six days a week, and take the Sabbath off. Shopping became compressed into the weekend with more women in the labor force.
My mother, a widow, had to go to work to put food on the table. I don't remember her doing any shopping on Sunday. I do remember that even though we didn't have dinner at home she would spend a good part of her morning preparing things such as sauce and soups that she would freeze in preparation for the meals we would have during the week. That was the extent of her work on Sunday.
Now Sundays are spent worshipping at the Church of the Seven Day Consumerists (SDC). A lot of these 'churches' are mega in size, some even have valet parking offering Novenas to Saint Thirty Percent Off. These 'churches' even provide weekly lectionaries mailed to your home in preparation for the following week's 'services.' They will also provide you with coupons to offset your weekly contributions. I grew up with St. Anthony and St. Francis but now these Seven Day Consumerists have replaced them with Sts. Barry, Elliot, Bernie and Phyl.
I almost got converted to the Church of SDC, but have reconciled myself to try to follow the Lord's teaching on observing the Sabbath. I hope that you too will see the light, before it's too late.
When I see the word Sabbath written on paper, I automaticaly think of the Italian word Sabbato which means Saturday. This clarifies the confusion I have as to which is the seventh day, the day of rest. If I use the Italian word, Sabbato, which means Sabbath then I should be resting and giving thanks to the Lord on Saturday like the Jewish people do. My Catholic upbringing however tells me different - Sunday is the Lord's day.
I don't want to get caught up on which day the Sabbath is, but want to question the when and why we stopped observing this day as we did in the past whether it be Saturday or Sunday.
Under the "blue laws" of the 1700s, punishments such as whippings, fines, burnt tongues, and severed ears could be invoked for simple misdeeds ranging from shuffleboard to skipping church: such were the Puritan's penalties for breaches of the Sabbath.
In Boston, home of John Winthrop and Cotton Mather, Puritan traditions have thrived. Many recall days, just decades ago, when stores were shuttered on Sundays. "What did we do back then?"
I remember Sunday being set aside as a day to be with family. You would put on your Sunday best, unlike today where people attend church wearing any old thing, and you would spend some time with the Lord. I had to attend the 9:00 AM Mass (the one designated for my classmates from St. Mary's School) at St. Mary's Church on Endicott St. I would go home after church and prepare to make the weekly journey out to Revere where we would have dinner with my step-father's brother and wife. The rest of the day was spent relaxing and seeing other family members who would come to visit later. Other family members visiting meant the arrival of more food. The dinner table was not cleared off until the last person left late that evening. The 3 F's would rule on Sunday, Family, Food and Frivolity.
Laws making Sunday a day of rest began deteriorating during World War II, when women entered the manufacturing sector. A hundred years ago, women could shop six days a week, and take the Sabbath off. Shopping became compressed into the weekend with more women in the labor force.
My mother, a widow, had to go to work to put food on the table. I don't remember her doing any shopping on Sunday. I do remember that even though we didn't have dinner at home she would spend a good part of her morning preparing things such as sauce and soups that she would freeze in preparation for the meals we would have during the week. That was the extent of her work on Sunday.
Now Sundays are spent worshipping at the Church of the Seven Day Consumerists (SDC). A lot of these 'churches' are mega in size, some even have valet parking offering Novenas to Saint Thirty Percent Off. These 'churches' even provide weekly lectionaries mailed to your home in preparation for the following week's 'services.' They will also provide you with coupons to offset your weekly contributions. I grew up with St. Anthony and St. Francis but now these Seven Day Consumerists have replaced them with Sts. Barry, Elliot, Bernie and Phyl.
I almost got converted to the Church of SDC, but have reconciled myself to try to follow the Lord's teaching on observing the Sabbath. I hope that you too will see the light, before it's too late.
8.12.2005
Only Boys
As I look at my boys, ages 28, 25, and 23, I can't help but think of the boys that are involved in the war in Afghanistan and Iraq. A lot of these boys are much younger than mine. A lot of them have not reached their 20th birthday and I swallow hard in saying that some of them will never see it. I can't help but think that a higher number have suffered life altering injuries (loss of limb, loss of sight, etc.). I can't help but think of how many have been damaged psychologically, damages they will live with the rest of their lives.
A lot of these boys, albeit entering the service willingly, never realized they were going to be involved in the horrors and brutality of war. They had a myriad of reasons for joining. My middle boy joined after a recruiter approached him in school and sold him all the upsides that the military had to offer. He joined when he was 20 and served 3 years fortunately all being state side. Some of his friends did go to Iraq, but for whatever reason he was spared. He is not out of the woods yet, for he can be called back at any time.
My oldest boy who is 28 has been in the National Guard for two years. He just said goodbye this past weekend to a group from his unit as they left for Iraq, I wonder how many he will see return. He is also susceptible to being called up at any time. My boys are no longer boys in comparison to the ones like Specialist Olander who I read about recently in the NY Times.
He was 19 when he joined. What appealed to him was college money plus it was something he wanted to do ever since he was a kid - be in the Army. When he left, he had mixed feelings about going to Iraq, but he wasn't particularly upset. He didn't dwell on the possibility of getting killed or wounded. And he gave no thought at all to the spiritual or psychological toll that combat can take. "I was very confident in my training and I was very religious," he said. "I'd always read Bible stories as a child and I believed the Lord would look over me and his will would be done."
Most of these boys are doing the job they trained for and will follow whatever orders they are given. They are proud to serve and some even though severely wounded when interviewed all say that they want to go back to finish the job. There's such a comraderie that they're always thinking of their fellow soldiers.
Reading about SPC Olander you can feel some of the pain he is feeling today. Here's an excerpt from the NY Times article;
He is filled with guilt. Several of his friends have been killed, and he thinks he could have done something to save the gunner who died. "I felt it may have been my fault that it happened," he said. "Maybe I could have handled the situation differently."
He is also filled with turbulent emotions related to the insurgents that he killed. "I had no hesitation about pulling the trigger," he said. "But the aftermath is what hurt. Before I joined the military, I valued life very much, so taking it was hard. It's confusing trying to figure it out, you know, because sometimes I feel rage toward them.
"But then it becomes a very religious thing, because I wonder, you know, since I've taken these lives, if I'm going to be accepted into heaven. You know, have I done the right thing?"
Specialist Olander is being treated for depression and post-traumatic stress disorder at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center here. He expects to head back to Waynesburg in a few weeks, where he'll stay for a while in a trailer that sits in a campground "out in the middle of nowhere."
Boys forced to be men overnight, forced to grow up in a matter of minutes. I don't think any of the training they went through ever got them ready for the psychological impacts of dealing with such harshness and cruelty. He'll probably get over the physical scars, but the emotional scars will probably never heal.
The soldiers don't question why they are there, they just follow orders and do what they're told. But the question that has been hanging in the air is, Why are we fighting this war? The second question is, Why don't we all have some equal stake in the outcome? Why should only a small percentage of the population suffer and grieve while the rest go about their business as if we're only dealing with a little brush fire?
Here are part of the lyrics from the song War:
War! It ain't nothing but a heartbreaker
War! It's got one friend, that's the undertaker
War has shattered many a young mans dreams
Made him disabled bitter and mean
Life is much to precious to spend fighting wars these days
War can't give life, it can only take it away
War! It ain't nothing but a heartbreaker
War! Friend only to the undertaker
Peace Love and Understanding;
tell me, is there no place for them today?
They say we must fight to keep our freedom
But Lord knows there's got to be a better way
History is supposed to teach us a lesson, but we always end up making the same mistakes. Mistakes that take many loved ones away from us.
Some people get to rest and vacation at Crawford, Texas for five weeks while many are dying thousands of miles away.
Nero fiddled, while Rome burned.
A lot of these boys, albeit entering the service willingly, never realized they were going to be involved in the horrors and brutality of war. They had a myriad of reasons for joining. My middle boy joined after a recruiter approached him in school and sold him all the upsides that the military had to offer. He joined when he was 20 and served 3 years fortunately all being state side. Some of his friends did go to Iraq, but for whatever reason he was spared. He is not out of the woods yet, for he can be called back at any time.
My oldest boy who is 28 has been in the National Guard for two years. He just said goodbye this past weekend to a group from his unit as they left for Iraq, I wonder how many he will see return. He is also susceptible to being called up at any time. My boys are no longer boys in comparison to the ones like Specialist Olander who I read about recently in the NY Times.
He was 19 when he joined. What appealed to him was college money plus it was something he wanted to do ever since he was a kid - be in the Army. When he left, he had mixed feelings about going to Iraq, but he wasn't particularly upset. He didn't dwell on the possibility of getting killed or wounded. And he gave no thought at all to the spiritual or psychological toll that combat can take. "I was very confident in my training and I was very religious," he said. "I'd always read Bible stories as a child and I believed the Lord would look over me and his will would be done."
Most of these boys are doing the job they trained for and will follow whatever orders they are given. They are proud to serve and some even though severely wounded when interviewed all say that they want to go back to finish the job. There's such a comraderie that they're always thinking of their fellow soldiers.
Reading about SPC Olander you can feel some of the pain he is feeling today. Here's an excerpt from the NY Times article;
He is filled with guilt. Several of his friends have been killed, and he thinks he could have done something to save the gunner who died. "I felt it may have been my fault that it happened," he said. "Maybe I could have handled the situation differently."
He is also filled with turbulent emotions related to the insurgents that he killed. "I had no hesitation about pulling the trigger," he said. "But the aftermath is what hurt. Before I joined the military, I valued life very much, so taking it was hard. It's confusing trying to figure it out, you know, because sometimes I feel rage toward them.
"But then it becomes a very religious thing, because I wonder, you know, since I've taken these lives, if I'm going to be accepted into heaven. You know, have I done the right thing?"
Specialist Olander is being treated for depression and post-traumatic stress disorder at the Walter Reed Army Medical Center here. He expects to head back to Waynesburg in a few weeks, where he'll stay for a while in a trailer that sits in a campground "out in the middle of nowhere."
Boys forced to be men overnight, forced to grow up in a matter of minutes. I don't think any of the training they went through ever got them ready for the psychological impacts of dealing with such harshness and cruelty. He'll probably get over the physical scars, but the emotional scars will probably never heal.
The soldiers don't question why they are there, they just follow orders and do what they're told. But the question that has been hanging in the air is, Why are we fighting this war? The second question is, Why don't we all have some equal stake in the outcome? Why should only a small percentage of the population suffer and grieve while the rest go about their business as if we're only dealing with a little brush fire?
Here are part of the lyrics from the song War:
War! It ain't nothing but a heartbreaker
War! It's got one friend, that's the undertaker
War has shattered many a young mans dreams
Made him disabled bitter and mean
Life is much to precious to spend fighting wars these days
War can't give life, it can only take it away
War! It ain't nothing but a heartbreaker
War! Friend only to the undertaker
Peace Love and Understanding;
tell me, is there no place for them today?
They say we must fight to keep our freedom
But Lord knows there's got to be a better way
History is supposed to teach us a lesson, but we always end up making the same mistakes. Mistakes that take many loved ones away from us.
Some people get to rest and vacation at Crawford, Texas for five weeks while many are dying thousands of miles away.
Nero fiddled, while Rome burned.
8.10.2005
Where have they gone?
There must be something wrong with my TV. Although I don't watch much TV other that a Red Sox game and at that it is only for a few innings, I just realized that I haven't seen our Vice President in four or five months. Has something happened to Dick Cheney? Is he still the VP? Or have all the news outlets filtered him out of the limelight?
Sometimes it seems the White House brings him out like my mother used to bring out the good china only when someone of importance would come over. Well, aren't we of importance? Where is he hiding? He seems to have gone the same road as Anthrax.
Speaking of Anthrax, what happened to the investigation for finding out who was involved in sending this deadly chemical throught the mail? Are we going to locate Whitey Bulger before we find out anything about the Anthrax debacle?
At one point, only a year or two ago, I remember that hearing Cheney and about Anthrax would send people looking for cover. He painted a picture of gloom and doom and Anthrax frightened many an unsuspecting postal worker. I'm certain that within 5 years from now a new Bob Woodward type will surface with the truth about both.
These things bother me because it didn't take long for them to disappear from our radar screen.
Cheney and Anthrax, Cheney and Anthrax, where are they? Why have we not heard anything about either?
Hmmmmm!!!!
Sometimes it seems the White House brings him out like my mother used to bring out the good china only when someone of importance would come over. Well, aren't we of importance? Where is he hiding? He seems to have gone the same road as Anthrax.
Speaking of Anthrax, what happened to the investigation for finding out who was involved in sending this deadly chemical throught the mail? Are we going to locate Whitey Bulger before we find out anything about the Anthrax debacle?
At one point, only a year or two ago, I remember that hearing Cheney and about Anthrax would send people looking for cover. He painted a picture of gloom and doom and Anthrax frightened many an unsuspecting postal worker. I'm certain that within 5 years from now a new Bob Woodward type will surface with the truth about both.
These things bother me because it didn't take long for them to disappear from our radar screen.
Cheney and Anthrax, Cheney and Anthrax, where are they? Why have we not heard anything about either?
Hmmmmm!!!!
Top billing for Frankie
>Frankie,
those were some meatballs!!!!
The much anticipated Emeril Live Show of August 7 featuring Frankie's Gravy and 3 other award winning Italian recipes was well worth the wait. Emeril did a very good job of re-creating Frankie Imbergamo's spaghetti sauce with meatballs. What was wonderful about the opening segment was the story behind the story. Watching Frankie walking the streets of Boston's Little Italy (The North End) and his visit to Frank the butcher to buy the meat to put in the gravy evoked memories of what many mothers and grandmothers did before the advent of the antiseptic and mass produced slop (i.e., Ragu, Prego etc.) that 'Amerdicanes' call sauce.
Frankie's end product as demonstrated is beyond compare to these products, I know, I've tasted it on a number of occasions. Ask the men at the ITAM club in Medford, they all rave about it. I didn't think that Emeril was going to do the recipe justice, but when I saw the end product on TV that night, maronna, those meatballs were just about jumping through my TV screen.
The only down side to the program was that I would like to have seen a little more of Frankie and his old neighborhood. He came across as such a natural host that the likes of Rick Steeves should be afraid of losing their jobs.
If you missed the original airing of the show, don't worry, it will be repeated Saturday Aug. 13, at 8:00PM and again at 12:00AM on Aug.14.
8.09.2005
Angie & Michelina
....whoever wishes to be great among you shall be your servant;
whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave.
Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many."
Who are the great among us? Matthew 20, 26 - 28 provides us the answer to this question. Is it the President or some Congressman or your neighbor next door? Is it the Postmaster who just was the recipient of some award given to federal executives? What did she do? And if she accomplished something to warrant an award, what about the hundreds of subordinates who are at her beck and call? The ones that are serving her, are they chopped liver? Why is it the ones at the top seem to always get recognized? Why is it that they are the ones that always reap some monetary gain? Many times it's earned at someone else's expense.
This past Sunday I met a wonderful woman who truly deserves to be given an award. Her name is Angie (I won't reveal her last name because she would get mad at me if she found out). I've known this woman from a distance for about twenty years. She used to live in my neighborhood, one street over from mine. Every time I see her she always has that infectious and radiant smile on her face. I don't know many details of her life, but the little I know are enough to fill her good book in heaven. Angie is a wonderful mother and wife, and has such magnetism that no matter who meets her becomes her friend.
I first met Angie at the Sacred Heart Church. She was an indefatigable worker volunteering her time for the many social activities surrounding the church. She was very active in the Italian Society at church and served at all levels of that society's structure. She was the catalyst for keeping the various traditional Italian feasts and would always encourage the younger members to become active. Along with her husband Al, who was her alter ego, they made the perfect couple, an inspiration for all newly weds.
Angie was from the "old stock", they say they broke the mold when she was created. I hope you have been blessed in meeting a person such as her. She made herself available to anybody who needed help. To this day I can picture Angie and Al getting all dressed up for the annual Carnivale dinner dance that was held just prior to Lent. She loved to have a good time and enjoyed a good meal with friends.
As Al got older he suffered through many physical ailments including triple bypass surgery and eventually succumbing to a long fight with diabetes. Angie never left him. She made sure that she was always there for him. Angie became his eyes when he went blind and she became his legs when they amputed both of his. She had her opportunity to put him out to pasture but she didn't. Does this woman deserve the Federal Executive of the Year award? No, she doesn't need it nor would she want it. I make it a point to always thank her for what she did and continues to do. She is great in the Lord's eyes for she truly understands what it means to serve.
The second woman that left and indelible mark on my mind passed away about ten years ago. Her name was Michelina (Me kay lee na) a wife and mother. I remember her from my weekly Sunday excursions from the North End to Revere. I would accompany my mother and stepfather as we would go and visit his brother Ralph. We didn't have a car in the family so we would walk over the bridge to the old City Square train stop in Charlestown to get the Woodlawn bus. My step father would always make it a point to stop at Modern Pastry to get either some sfogliatelle (sfohl ya tel lay) or a ricotta pie. I was taught at a young age that you never went empty handed when you went to visit someone. The good thing about it was that you got to share in what you brought, so you made sure you brought something you liked.
Ralph and Angie lived in a two family house. They were an interesting couple and I will relate some more of them at a later time. They had the first floor apartment and Angie's sister, Michelina lived upstairs with her husband Toto (Thaw thaw) short for Antonio. Staying at Angie's and Ralph's was boring for me because there was no one to play with. As soon as I finished dinner, I would go upstairs to find Michelina's grandson, Steve who was roughly my age. He lived a few houses down, but Michelina would always call him to come over whenever she knew I was coming. She was in tune with everything.
I would always find Michelina in the kitchen. That was her dominion. She was a medium built woman and I remember that she was always very presentable, everything in place with her hair always done. She always had her apron on and it seemed like she was always cooking something.
She had a raspy but sweet voice and would never raise it. She seemed to be always in control. She was the perfect matronly picture almost as if she had jumped out of Good Housekeeping Magazine. If Jesus chose Peter to be his rock, then Michelina was the solid foundation of this household.
There were many problems in her family but she always seemed to steer the ship calmly out of danger. Toto was a barber who had a penchant for spending his tips on the horses at Suffolk Downs. I know there were times that he came home a loser but she always found a way to put food on the table. In her subtle way she got him to curb his addiction and kept peace in the family. Michelina's beauty was passed on to her three daughters and one son. The youngest daughter would eventually be a finalist in the Miss. Massachusetts' contest.
Michelina endured many sufferings; two of daughter's getting divorced, another involved in a horrific and face disfiguring car crash and the disappointment in hearing one daughter converting from Catholicism to a Jehovahs Witness. To a Catholic back then this called for ostracism. This hurt Michelina very much but she never shut her daughter out of any family events, she continued to treat her the same as the others. With all the trials and tribulations going on about her she would always maintain a positive outlook and kept a smile on her face.
I'll tell you, Martha Stewart could never compare to her. She was great with flowers, a superb cook, a very good interior decorator and great with animals not to mention her granchildren. I will always remember her dog, Rusty, (I think that was his name - my anti seizure medication that I've taken for 40 years has finally taken it's toll on my brain cells). He was an old mutt, reminded me of the dog, Old Yeller. He seemed to have the disposition of her husband Toto. She loved that dog so much. One day she found out that the dog had a tumor and was probably going to die. Instead of taking him to a vet, Michelina decided to perform the surgery on him herself. It didn't look too good for a few days but with her constant care and attention she was able to prolong that dog's life for two additional years.
When the vet found out about it, he was incredulous. Those last two years, I noticed such a change in that dog. He had become so attached to her, he would never leave her side.
When I think of people, like Angie and Michelina, tears start welling up. They did so much, yet never asked for anything in return. That's unconditional love.
If you know of an Angie or a Michelina in your life make it a point to hug them and thank them for being who they are.
whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave.
Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many."
Who are the great among us? Matthew 20, 26 - 28 provides us the answer to this question. Is it the President or some Congressman or your neighbor next door? Is it the Postmaster who just was the recipient of some award given to federal executives? What did she do? And if she accomplished something to warrant an award, what about the hundreds of subordinates who are at her beck and call? The ones that are serving her, are they chopped liver? Why is it the ones at the top seem to always get recognized? Why is it that they are the ones that always reap some monetary gain? Many times it's earned at someone else's expense.
This past Sunday I met a wonderful woman who truly deserves to be given an award. Her name is Angie (I won't reveal her last name because she would get mad at me if she found out). I've known this woman from a distance for about twenty years. She used to live in my neighborhood, one street over from mine. Every time I see her she always has that infectious and radiant smile on her face. I don't know many details of her life, but the little I know are enough to fill her good book in heaven. Angie is a wonderful mother and wife, and has such magnetism that no matter who meets her becomes her friend.
I first met Angie at the Sacred Heart Church. She was an indefatigable worker volunteering her time for the many social activities surrounding the church. She was very active in the Italian Society at church and served at all levels of that society's structure. She was the catalyst for keeping the various traditional Italian feasts and would always encourage the younger members to become active. Along with her husband Al, who was her alter ego, they made the perfect couple, an inspiration for all newly weds.
Angie was from the "old stock", they say they broke the mold when she was created. I hope you have been blessed in meeting a person such as her. She made herself available to anybody who needed help. To this day I can picture Angie and Al getting all dressed up for the annual Carnivale dinner dance that was held just prior to Lent. She loved to have a good time and enjoyed a good meal with friends.
As Al got older he suffered through many physical ailments including triple bypass surgery and eventually succumbing to a long fight with diabetes. Angie never left him. She made sure that she was always there for him. Angie became his eyes when he went blind and she became his legs when they amputed both of his. She had her opportunity to put him out to pasture but she didn't. Does this woman deserve the Federal Executive of the Year award? No, she doesn't need it nor would she want it. I make it a point to always thank her for what she did and continues to do. She is great in the Lord's eyes for she truly understands what it means to serve.
The second woman that left and indelible mark on my mind passed away about ten years ago. Her name was Michelina (Me kay lee na) a wife and mother. I remember her from my weekly Sunday excursions from the North End to Revere. I would accompany my mother and stepfather as we would go and visit his brother Ralph. We didn't have a car in the family so we would walk over the bridge to the old City Square train stop in Charlestown to get the Woodlawn bus. My step father would always make it a point to stop at Modern Pastry to get either some sfogliatelle (sfohl ya tel lay) or a ricotta pie. I was taught at a young age that you never went empty handed when you went to visit someone. The good thing about it was that you got to share in what you brought, so you made sure you brought something you liked.
Ralph and Angie lived in a two family house. They were an interesting couple and I will relate some more of them at a later time. They had the first floor apartment and Angie's sister, Michelina lived upstairs with her husband Toto (Thaw thaw) short for Antonio. Staying at Angie's and Ralph's was boring for me because there was no one to play with. As soon as I finished dinner, I would go upstairs to find Michelina's grandson, Steve who was roughly my age. He lived a few houses down, but Michelina would always call him to come over whenever she knew I was coming. She was in tune with everything.
I would always find Michelina in the kitchen. That was her dominion. She was a medium built woman and I remember that she was always very presentable, everything in place with her hair always done. She always had her apron on and it seemed like she was always cooking something.
She had a raspy but sweet voice and would never raise it. She seemed to be always in control. She was the perfect matronly picture almost as if she had jumped out of Good Housekeeping Magazine. If Jesus chose Peter to be his rock, then Michelina was the solid foundation of this household.
There were many problems in her family but she always seemed to steer the ship calmly out of danger. Toto was a barber who had a penchant for spending his tips on the horses at Suffolk Downs. I know there were times that he came home a loser but she always found a way to put food on the table. In her subtle way she got him to curb his addiction and kept peace in the family. Michelina's beauty was passed on to her three daughters and one son. The youngest daughter would eventually be a finalist in the Miss. Massachusetts' contest.
Michelina endured many sufferings; two of daughter's getting divorced, another involved in a horrific and face disfiguring car crash and the disappointment in hearing one daughter converting from Catholicism to a Jehovahs Witness. To a Catholic back then this called for ostracism. This hurt Michelina very much but she never shut her daughter out of any family events, she continued to treat her the same as the others. With all the trials and tribulations going on about her she would always maintain a positive outlook and kept a smile on her face.
I'll tell you, Martha Stewart could never compare to her. She was great with flowers, a superb cook, a very good interior decorator and great with animals not to mention her granchildren. I will always remember her dog, Rusty, (I think that was his name - my anti seizure medication that I've taken for 40 years has finally taken it's toll on my brain cells). He was an old mutt, reminded me of the dog, Old Yeller. He seemed to have the disposition of her husband Toto. She loved that dog so much. One day she found out that the dog had a tumor and was probably going to die. Instead of taking him to a vet, Michelina decided to perform the surgery on him herself. It didn't look too good for a few days but with her constant care and attention she was able to prolong that dog's life for two additional years.
When the vet found out about it, he was incredulous. Those last two years, I noticed such a change in that dog. He had become so attached to her, he would never leave her side.
When I think of people, like Angie and Michelina, tears start welling up. They did so much, yet never asked for anything in return. That's unconditional love.
If you know of an Angie or a Michelina in your life make it a point to hug them and thank them for being who they are.
How Far You Go in Life
I offer you the following two quotes from two great men in history. These are among my favorites that deal with how to live your life.
How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak and the strong. Because someday in life you will have been all of these."
~George Washington Carver~
Gee, I used to think that the only thing George Wahington Carver did was fool around with peanuts. In two sentences, he packs all you ever need to know about living your life. If you are tender, compassionate, sympathetic and tolerant, the same will be returned to you. Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you.
Whenever I read an interesting quote - a quote that stirs something inside me, I try to find out something about the author. What I found out about George Washington Carver is summed up beatifully on the epitath on his grave that reads;
"He could have added fortune to fame, but caring for neither, he found happiness and honor in being helpful to the world."
What a wonderful legacy to leave behind. I sometimes have a hard time helping my own family never mind the world. When you study about him in school, especially during Black American Month, they never mention that he declined an invitation to work for a salary of more than $100,000 a year (almost a million today) to continue his research on behalf of his countrymen.
They don't tell you that Carver did not patent or profit from most of his products. He freely gave his discoveries to mankind. "God gave them to me." he would say about his ideas, "How can I sell them to someone else?" In 1940, Carver donated his life savings to the establishment of the Carver Research Foundation at Tuskegee, for continuing research in agriculture.
It's no wonder that such a man would be the author of such a profound statement. It sounds like he walked the walk and talked the talk.
Endeavor to be always patient of the faults and imperfections of others, for thou hast many faults and imperfections of thy own that require a reciprocation of forbearance. If thou art not able to make thyself that which thou wishest to be, how canst thou expect to mould another in conformity to thy will?
~Thomas a' Kempis~
Thomas Haemmerlein, known also as Thomas à Kempis, from his native town of Kempen, near the Rhine, about forty miles north of Cologne. Haemmerlein, who was born in 1379 or 1380, was a member of the order of the Brothers of Common Life, and spent the last seventy years of his life at Mount St. Agnes, a monastery of Augustinian canons in the diocese of Utrecht. Most of his time was spent copying varius manuscripts.
Thomas was the author of The Imitation of Christ. This book had been published in over 6000 editions by 1900 -- more than one per month for 500 years. It has been called the most-published of all books other than the Bible. With the exception of the Bible, it is perhaps the most widely read spiritual book in the world. I haven't read the whole book, only certain chapters. But from what I've read it is a spiritual book that I turn to often.
Two different men with different backgrounds living worlds apart in different periods in history sharing a common philosophy on how far you go in life.
How far you go in life depends on your being tender with the young, compassionate with the aged, sympathetic with the striving and tolerant of the weak and the strong. Because someday in life you will have been all of these."
~George Washington Carver~
Gee, I used to think that the only thing George Wahington Carver did was fool around with peanuts. In two sentences, he packs all you ever need to know about living your life. If you are tender, compassionate, sympathetic and tolerant, the same will be returned to you. Do unto others, as you would have them do unto you.
Whenever I read an interesting quote - a quote that stirs something inside me, I try to find out something about the author. What I found out about George Washington Carver is summed up beatifully on the epitath on his grave that reads;
"He could have added fortune to fame, but caring for neither, he found happiness and honor in being helpful to the world."
What a wonderful legacy to leave behind. I sometimes have a hard time helping my own family never mind the world. When you study about him in school, especially during Black American Month, they never mention that he declined an invitation to work for a salary of more than $100,000 a year (almost a million today) to continue his research on behalf of his countrymen.
They don't tell you that Carver did not patent or profit from most of his products. He freely gave his discoveries to mankind. "God gave them to me." he would say about his ideas, "How can I sell them to someone else?" In 1940, Carver donated his life savings to the establishment of the Carver Research Foundation at Tuskegee, for continuing research in agriculture.
It's no wonder that such a man would be the author of such a profound statement. It sounds like he walked the walk and talked the talk.
Endeavor to be always patient of the faults and imperfections of others, for thou hast many faults and imperfections of thy own that require a reciprocation of forbearance. If thou art not able to make thyself that which thou wishest to be, how canst thou expect to mould another in conformity to thy will?
~Thomas a' Kempis~
Thomas Haemmerlein, known also as Thomas à Kempis, from his native town of Kempen, near the Rhine, about forty miles north of Cologne. Haemmerlein, who was born in 1379 or 1380, was a member of the order of the Brothers of Common Life, and spent the last seventy years of his life at Mount St. Agnes, a monastery of Augustinian canons in the diocese of Utrecht. Most of his time was spent copying varius manuscripts.
Thomas was the author of The Imitation of Christ. This book had been published in over 6000 editions by 1900 -- more than one per month for 500 years. It has been called the most-published of all books other than the Bible. With the exception of the Bible, it is perhaps the most widely read spiritual book in the world. I haven't read the whole book, only certain chapters. But from what I've read it is a spiritual book that I turn to often.
Two different men with different backgrounds living worlds apart in different periods in history sharing a common philosophy on how far you go in life.
8.08.2005
Only The Good Die Young
As I was reading about the death of Peter Jennings, the long time news anchor man on ABC, I couldn't help and ponder about the comment that Barbara Walters made. She said, “He just died much too young.” Peter Jennings was 67. Was this young? It's all relative I guess. If you're over 67 you would consider it young but if you are in your 20's you might not. Based on today's life expectancy charts, he fell in the category of going before his time. I was also amazed on how little time it took for the cancer to take his life. He told his viewers back in April that he had lung cancer and 4 months later he dies. I guess the Lord spared him much suffering.
When I read Barbara Walter's comment, I immediately thought of the song from Dion from years past entitled, Abraham, Martin and John. In the song he mentions four people, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy and Robert Kennedy and the lyrics that he repeats at the end of each stanza is, But it seems the good they die young.
Abraham died when he was 56, Martin when he was 39, JFK when he was 46 and Robert Kennedy at 43. These men did a lot of good and would have probably continued to do so but as the song say, it seems the good die young. I often thought of why good people are taken away so young and why we are left to bear with all the pains in asses of the world who seem to go on forever. The ones you would think should go first seem to outlast us all. Sometimes I think God has a distorted sense of humor. I picture him sitting on his throne looking down much like a king would presiding over a court filled with jesters. But I know that God is all loving and has a purpose for everyone's life. I just haven't figured it out and I might never do so. Hey, I better be quiet, because I might end up being one of those pain in the butt people.
I did a quick research and found many noted people who died at a much younger age than the ones above.
When I read Barbara Walter's comment, I immediately thought of the song from Dion from years past entitled, Abraham, Martin and John. In the song he mentions four people, Abraham Lincoln, Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy and Robert Kennedy and the lyrics that he repeats at the end of each stanza is, But it seems the good they die young.
Abraham died when he was 56, Martin when he was 39, JFK when he was 46 and Robert Kennedy at 43. These men did a lot of good and would have probably continued to do so but as the song say, it seems the good die young. I often thought of why good people are taken away so young and why we are left to bear with all the pains in asses of the world who seem to go on forever. The ones you would think should go first seem to outlast us all. Sometimes I think God has a distorted sense of humor. I picture him sitting on his throne looking down much like a king would presiding over a court filled with jesters. But I know that God is all loving and has a purpose for everyone's life. I just haven't figured it out and I might never do so. Hey, I better be quiet, because I might end up being one of those pain in the butt people.
I did a quick research and found many noted people who died at a much younger age than the ones above.
- Jesus died when he was 32/33 years of age.
- Vincent Van Gogh shot himself when he was 39
- Princes Diana was 38 when she died in an auto accident
- John Keats, the poet, died when he was 25 from tuberculosis
- Anne Frank died when she was 15
- Joan of Arc was burned at the stake when she was 19
These are also some of the most famous. What about all the good people that we know very little about. How many were lost on 9/11? How many were lost in the Tsunami? There's a lot of potential for good left behind each and every day.
I know you could probably tell me of a lot of good people who lived a full life. I realize it but I can't help but focus on the good people that are taken away much before their time. It's like my tomato growing escapades this year. Just as the tomatoes are starting to ripen some critter (I suspect a pesky and very hungry squirrel) beats me to the punch. Forgive me for today being Monday, I'm seeing the glass as half empty instead of half full.
Billy Joel's song has a different perspective on it:
They say there's a heaven for those who will wait
Some say it's better but I say it ain't
I'd rather laugh with the sinners than cry with the saints
Sinners are much more fun...
And only the good die young
Well if you read the Bible, you'll see that Jesus came to be with the sinners and to help them see and find the way. One of the best examples of a fun loving sinner who converted is the story of Saul of Tarsus, later known as St. Paul. It took him awhile but he came to the realization that sinners were not much fun.
8.07.2005
Save a Space On Your Boat For Him
Today's Gospel from Matthew 14, 22-33, shows what can be achieved when you have faith in the Lord. Reach out and take God's hand and He will help you through all your troubles.
1. The boat was beaten by the waves
It's interesting how many time we find Jesus alone on a mountain top or in a boat. Given the large following and great appeal he had, he probably had a hard time maintaining some privacy. The boat here represents our life and the waves are the many troubles we face whether they be social, economical, or political. The waves are the stresses we face as we journey through life.
2. Jesus walks on the water
This demonstrates the power Jesus has over all. Even in the worst storm (the time of most distress in your life) Jesus is there and available for you. Even when He was suffering on the cross He walked on water (He was there) for the person who was being crucified with Him.
3. The disciples were terrified, they thought it was a ghost
In time of distress it's natural to feel terrified. In this situation there was a potential for being tossed overboard and maybe even drowning. In their anxiety to save themselves they did not believe that Jesus was reaching out to them (walking on water). There was another time right after the resurrection when Jesus appeared to them and they thought He was a ghost. In both these instances we see a lack of belief, a lack of faith.
4. Jesus makes Himself known saying, "Take heart, it is I; have no fear."
Picture yourself drowning knowing that there was nobody there with you. As you come up from under water to gasp for air you think you see your best friend. As you go down again you think that your mind is playing tricks on you - you're seeing things that are not there. When you surface again, you hear your friend shouting, "hold on, don't worry, I'm coming!" Knowing your friend is at hand you are encouraged to keep struggling because he's going to save you.
5. Peter gets out of the boat and walks on water
Peter does this out faith, trust and love for Jesus. I remember when the boys were infants crawling around their attempts at getting up to walk would always end up in them falling. One of the exercises that we did was my wife would hold the baby on his two feet and I would position myself four to five feet away. I would hold out my arms and tell, (encourage) the baby to come to me, forcing him to walk on his own two feet. The baby would always make the attempt because of a similar trust and faith. The baby would forget about the pitfalls and the bumps and bruises that could come with a fall. He knew that even if he stumbled, we were there to catch him.
6. He was afraid and started to sink
Peter was doing fine until he was distracted by the wind that kicked up. That momentary distraction caused him to lose faith and fall back into the water. It's the same with the baby that starts to take a few steps towards the father or mother hears a noise or someone else, is distracted, loses his balance and falls.
7. Jesus saves him
He tells Peter, "O man of little faith, why did you doubt?" Jesus is always there giving us his hand. It's up to us to grasp it firmly and hold on no matter what happens.
I believe there are safety regulations or laws that mandate that you have a life jacket for each person on board a boat.
Make room on your boat if you have not already done so for the greatest lifesaver, Jesus.
Don't be afraid, He's not a ghost.
1. The boat was beaten by the waves
It's interesting how many time we find Jesus alone on a mountain top or in a boat. Given the large following and great appeal he had, he probably had a hard time maintaining some privacy. The boat here represents our life and the waves are the many troubles we face whether they be social, economical, or political. The waves are the stresses we face as we journey through life.
2. Jesus walks on the water
This demonstrates the power Jesus has over all. Even in the worst storm (the time of most distress in your life) Jesus is there and available for you. Even when He was suffering on the cross He walked on water (He was there) for the person who was being crucified with Him.
3. The disciples were terrified, they thought it was a ghost
In time of distress it's natural to feel terrified. In this situation there was a potential for being tossed overboard and maybe even drowning. In their anxiety to save themselves they did not believe that Jesus was reaching out to them (walking on water). There was another time right after the resurrection when Jesus appeared to them and they thought He was a ghost. In both these instances we see a lack of belief, a lack of faith.
4. Jesus makes Himself known saying, "Take heart, it is I; have no fear."
Picture yourself drowning knowing that there was nobody there with you. As you come up from under water to gasp for air you think you see your best friend. As you go down again you think that your mind is playing tricks on you - you're seeing things that are not there. When you surface again, you hear your friend shouting, "hold on, don't worry, I'm coming!" Knowing your friend is at hand you are encouraged to keep struggling because he's going to save you.
5. Peter gets out of the boat and walks on water
Peter does this out faith, trust and love for Jesus. I remember when the boys were infants crawling around their attempts at getting up to walk would always end up in them falling. One of the exercises that we did was my wife would hold the baby on his two feet and I would position myself four to five feet away. I would hold out my arms and tell, (encourage) the baby to come to me, forcing him to walk on his own two feet. The baby would always make the attempt because of a similar trust and faith. The baby would forget about the pitfalls and the bumps and bruises that could come with a fall. He knew that even if he stumbled, we were there to catch him.
6. He was afraid and started to sink
Peter was doing fine until he was distracted by the wind that kicked up. That momentary distraction caused him to lose faith and fall back into the water. It's the same with the baby that starts to take a few steps towards the father or mother hears a noise or someone else, is distracted, loses his balance and falls.
7. Jesus saves him
He tells Peter, "O man of little faith, why did you doubt?" Jesus is always there giving us his hand. It's up to us to grasp it firmly and hold on no matter what happens.
I believe there are safety regulations or laws that mandate that you have a life jacket for each person on board a boat.
Make room on your boat if you have not already done so for the greatest lifesaver, Jesus.
Don't be afraid, He's not a ghost.
8.06.2005
Frankie on Emeril
Tune in to see Frankie on my show!!
Sunday night at 8:00PM on the Food Network
Frankie Imbergamo and his wife Maureen will be on the set with Emeril Lagasse
Emeril will be recreating Frankie's Gravy and Meatballs recipe
Watch it. Sunday August 7, 8:00 PM
If you miss it, it will be repeated Aug. 8, 12:00 AM , Aug. 13, 8:00PM, and Aug. 14, 12:00 AM
BAM!!
Hitting the Big Five-O
Happy Birthday to all who have hit the big five-o. I don't mean 50 years of age but paying $50 for a tank of gasoline. How does it feel? What are you going to do to celebrate? I got an idea for you, about you treat yourself and go out and buy one of those big Hummer vehicles. You might be able to claim 50% of the expenditure as a tax write-off if you can show that you use it for business and pay only $50,000 for it. There it is the big five-o again. Let me know if you buy one because I want to be around when you hit the 100 mark. I have a nice bottle of Dom Perignon saved for this special occasion. You're going to need some consoling when it costs $100 to fill up your tank.
This is the good old American way; super size it, buy more, use more, waste more, even when you don't need it. While our gasoline costs have doubled, the business section of the Wahington Post has a story about how Exxon Mobil is trying to figure out how to spend $30 billion dollars. It seems like they have a little spending money left over and don't know what to do with it. $30 billion for Exxon Mobil when your average Kyle (used to be Joe) has a hard time saving $3 a week. I wonder how much of this money will go back to our Senators and Congressmen to sway them against passing legislation forcing auto makers to produce vehicles that have better fuel efficiency ratings?
My 2000 VW Passat is not a gas guzzler but I think I should still be able to do better. The manufacturer suggests that I use only Premium fuel. They make sure I'm aware of it because not only is it written in the owner's manual it's also boldly stamped inside the cover of the fuel tank. I always thought that if I used lower octane gas (such as regular) I would be doing damage to the vehicle. I've found out that it doesn't matter. If you disagree or have proof to the contrary let me know.
Oil refiners make the most money from selling higher-grade gasoline because the higher cost to produce it is more than made up by the added charge to customers, said Fadel Gheit, an oil analyst at Oppenheimer & Co. in New York. Gas stations also benefit from higher margins on premium fuel. "It's to everybody's advantage to push the high-grade," Gheit said.
Where the hell is my advantage! These are some of the things you're not told about (excerpt from a Wash. Post article):
Automotive experts say using regular gas in most vehicles does no damage and makes no discernible difference in performance. Cars made in the past 15 years have such highly refined computer controls that the engine will adjust to the grade of octane in the gasoline, even in cars sold as requiring premium gasoline. Some drivers -- in some cars under some driving conditions -- may notice a drop in horsepower, but for most people behind the wheel, it wouldn't be enough to notice, the experts say.
"It's not going to hurt anything," said Peter Gregori, service manager for EuroMotorcars, a Mercedes-Benz dealer in Bethesda. In fact, Gregori has been using regular gas in one of his own Mercedes cars for two years, and "it's perfect," he said -- even though Mercedes-Benz says owners should use only premium.
"I get better mileage with the regular than I do with the high-test, in this particular model that I have," Gregori said. Among cars that come in for service, Gregori said, he can't tell which have been sipping premium.
Apparently, drivers are figuring this out.
Don't get me wrong I'm not advocating a life of crime, but it seems that the people who complained about organized crime (the so called Mafia of yesterday) have no clue about how bad they are getting ripped off from some of the major corporations. The irony of it all is that they are protected by law; in fact some are making the laws.
We've become a nation of sheep and ostriches. It's time to take our heads out of the sand.
This is the good old American way; super size it, buy more, use more, waste more, even when you don't need it. While our gasoline costs have doubled, the business section of the Wahington Post has a story about how Exxon Mobil is trying to figure out how to spend $30 billion dollars. It seems like they have a little spending money left over and don't know what to do with it. $30 billion for Exxon Mobil when your average Kyle (used to be Joe) has a hard time saving $3 a week. I wonder how much of this money will go back to our Senators and Congressmen to sway them against passing legislation forcing auto makers to produce vehicles that have better fuel efficiency ratings?
My 2000 VW Passat is not a gas guzzler but I think I should still be able to do better. The manufacturer suggests that I use only Premium fuel. They make sure I'm aware of it because not only is it written in the owner's manual it's also boldly stamped inside the cover of the fuel tank. I always thought that if I used lower octane gas (such as regular) I would be doing damage to the vehicle. I've found out that it doesn't matter. If you disagree or have proof to the contrary let me know.
Oil refiners make the most money from selling higher-grade gasoline because the higher cost to produce it is more than made up by the added charge to customers, said Fadel Gheit, an oil analyst at Oppenheimer & Co. in New York. Gas stations also benefit from higher margins on premium fuel. "It's to everybody's advantage to push the high-grade," Gheit said.
Where the hell is my advantage! These are some of the things you're not told about (excerpt from a Wash. Post article):
Automotive experts say using regular gas in most vehicles does no damage and makes no discernible difference in performance. Cars made in the past 15 years have such highly refined computer controls that the engine will adjust to the grade of octane in the gasoline, even in cars sold as requiring premium gasoline. Some drivers -- in some cars under some driving conditions -- may notice a drop in horsepower, but for most people behind the wheel, it wouldn't be enough to notice, the experts say.
"It's not going to hurt anything," said Peter Gregori, service manager for EuroMotorcars, a Mercedes-Benz dealer in Bethesda. In fact, Gregori has been using regular gas in one of his own Mercedes cars for two years, and "it's perfect," he said -- even though Mercedes-Benz says owners should use only premium.
"I get better mileage with the regular than I do with the high-test, in this particular model that I have," Gregori said. Among cars that come in for service, Gregori said, he can't tell which have been sipping premium.
Apparently, drivers are figuring this out.
Don't get me wrong I'm not advocating a life of crime, but it seems that the people who complained about organized crime (the so called Mafia of yesterday) have no clue about how bad they are getting ripped off from some of the major corporations. The irony of it all is that they are protected by law; in fact some are making the laws.
We've become a nation of sheep and ostriches. It's time to take our heads out of the sand.
8.05.2005
Stop the World I Want To Get Off
Sometimes I think that it would be a nice experience if one could start his/her life from the end and work ourselves to the beginning. I might be a worthwhile experiment and one that I would readily volunteer for. Wouldn't it be great to come into this world with an abundance of experience? You might counter with that it would take all the fun out of life. It might be boring knowing all the answers to our pitfalls.
What would you think of being born say at 85 years of age and living to 0? I know, you think I'm nuts. As it stands now, given the average life span say of 80, we are born having to learn everything from walking to talking and being able to feed ourselves etc. and ending up in many instances where we cannot walk nor talk nor feed ourselves any longer. Someone has to take care of us as a baby and also when we're old. As a baby it's easier because we're innocent. But it's hard to take care of an elder because of all the baggage they've accumulated.
The motive for reversing the life cycle is that as I get older, I don't fear death, I fear not having enough time to accomplish all I want to do. Being born with the wisdom of an elder would save so much time wasted on youth. As an example, when I was in elementary and high school I was exposed to some of the finest literature ever written. Back then, most of this reading was wasted because I had a hard time comprehending. Now as I'm older, I've gone back and started to read the likes of Tolstoy, Dostoevsky, DeMappausant, Dante and Shakespeare etc. and have discovered some of the world's richest treasures. What was once gobbledygook now makes so much sense.
Oh, just think what it would be like having the wisdom of old age and the vitality and strenght of youth. Some of the benefits might be a reduction in the crime rate, divorce rate and less incidences of violence. The world would definitely be a more peaceful place. I think the possibilities are endless.
I know it's far fetched - it would have made a good script for Rod Serling's The Twilight Zone, but it's good to dream once in a while.
Well enough dreaming for a day, it's time to live and make prudent use of all the time that I have now. Who knows how much sand is left in my life's hourglass.
There was a Broadway play entitled which was later made into a movie, Stop The World I Want To Get Off. I often think of this title whenever my life gets very hectic. Wouldn't it be nice if we could do just that, stop the world and get off for a bit to catch some rest (smell the coffee or the proverbial rose). I picture myself riding on a merry-go-round. Once it reaches the speed that I start getting dizzy, I have the power of telling the operator to stop it so I can get off. Our world is a merry-go-round spinning (rotating) on it's axis as it makes it yearly journey around the sun.
If I can't stop it, maybe I can reverse it's course.
8.04.2005
Iraq Fatigue
I don't know about you but I can't forget about the war that's going on. Apparently some people are suffering from "Iraq fatigue", they are getting tired of the same stories about our soldiers dying over there. It is horrible, especially when our leaders told us way back when that it would take only a matter of months before all surrendered.
Well, a few years have gone by and we still hear of loss of innocent lives. I think this week so far (God I pray that's all) 21 Marines have been killed, most of them from Ohio. We have now lost over 1800 family members, not to mention the tens of thousands of troops who've suffered disabling wounds. While they try to rehabilitate themselves we have many in this country worrying about Jennifer Aniston's marital problems. I should be so lucky as Jennifer Aniston.
President Bush, speaking to lawmakers, business leaders and others during his vacation in Texas, called news of the deaths Wednesday a "grim reminder" that the United States is still at war. "These terrorists and insurgents will use brutal tactics because they're trying to shake the will of the United States of America," Bush said. "They want us to retreat."
While our soldiers die, our leaders are playing word games. In recent weeks the "war on terror", has been renamed the "global struggle against violent extremism", by none other than our Defense Secretary only to be corrected by our Commander in Chief who said that it is not a struggle but a war. Gen. Richard B. Myers of the Air Force, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, said on July 18 in an address to the National Press Club that he had "objected to the use of the term 'war on terrorism' before, because if you call it a war, then you think of people in uniform as being the solution." General Myers said then that the threat instead should be defined as violent extremists, with the recognition that "terror is the method they use."
I don't care what they call it, war, struggle, terror, violence, all I know is that we are losing too many lives. I cannot cope with Operation Enduring Bullshit. Spin any name you want on this mess but start changing the tactics before there's an insurgency to remove some of you from office.
If we are in a war, why are we wasting money on a space program that's on the brink of another potential disaster. If we are at war, don't we owe it to the men and women serving there, that we use all our resources to defeat the enemy?
Well, a few years have gone by and we still hear of loss of innocent lives. I think this week so far (God I pray that's all) 21 Marines have been killed, most of them from Ohio. We have now lost over 1800 family members, not to mention the tens of thousands of troops who've suffered disabling wounds. While they try to rehabilitate themselves we have many in this country worrying about Jennifer Aniston's marital problems. I should be so lucky as Jennifer Aniston.
President Bush, speaking to lawmakers, business leaders and others during his vacation in Texas, called news of the deaths Wednesday a "grim reminder" that the United States is still at war. "These terrorists and insurgents will use brutal tactics because they're trying to shake the will of the United States of America," Bush said. "They want us to retreat."
While our soldiers die, our leaders are playing word games. In recent weeks the "war on terror", has been renamed the "global struggle against violent extremism", by none other than our Defense Secretary only to be corrected by our Commander in Chief who said that it is not a struggle but a war. Gen. Richard B. Myers of the Air Force, chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, said on July 18 in an address to the National Press Club that he had "objected to the use of the term 'war on terrorism' before, because if you call it a war, then you think of people in uniform as being the solution." General Myers said then that the threat instead should be defined as violent extremists, with the recognition that "terror is the method they use."
I don't care what they call it, war, struggle, terror, violence, all I know is that we are losing too many lives. I cannot cope with Operation Enduring Bullshit. Spin any name you want on this mess but start changing the tactics before there's an insurgency to remove some of you from office.
If we are in a war, why are we wasting money on a space program that's on the brink of another potential disaster. If we are at war, don't we owe it to the men and women serving there, that we use all our resources to defeat the enemy?
8.03.2005
Child Rearing
There are good days and there are bad days. I either must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning or the culmination of the events and stress of the last two months have finally caught up with me. I had to push myself to go through my usual morning routine that usually, time permitting, consists of reading the Scriptures of the day along with a few other inspirational passages. The following quote from a Lord Rochester(don't have a clue to who he is and what makes him an expert on children) got my mind off my perceived problems and stirred my interest to read a long article on child rearing:
Before I had children, I had six theories about bringing them up; now I have six children and no theories.
Think about this for a moment and see if you don't think that there's at least an ounce of truth in it. Whether you have children or not, everyone seems to have an opinion on how to raise them. Listen to all the opinions offerred especially after the news of some tragic event involving children.
I, too was in the column of experts who knew how to raise children. What was my experience in this field? I probably had much less than most since I was raised without a father. What I brought to the art of parenting was what I had experienced as a child. Just because I had no father, I vowed to make a concerted effort to be available to my children as much as I could. I wanted to give them what I didn't have. I will never forget the words of Dr. Schrand (head of pediatrics at Mt. Auburn Hospital) and my first born's pediatrician upon finding out that I worked at the Post Office. He said, "you have the perfect job, you will be able to be around and see your child grow unlike many fathers whose jobs take them away for periods of time."
Gee, for the first time in my life someone valued a person working for the Post Office. Those words meant a lot to me back in 1977 and they still do now in 2005. It was almost as if my father were speaking to me. He wasn't given the opportunity to spend with his boy but I would. Now there are times, mostly when I'm feeling down, I wish that they would spread their wings and leave home. The three have on various occasions spent time away from home (one away at college for 4 yrs. and the other two in the military) but they always come home to roost no matter how shabby the roost has gotten at times.
Advising parents on how to bring up children and discipline them is very hard since each one brings with him or her a unique set of strengths and weaknesses, promises and challenges, as does every parent. Perhaps it is best to follow the wisdom of Janusz Korczak (1878-1942), a remarkable Jewish pediatrician. He writes:
You yourself are the child you must learn to know, rear, and above all enlighten. To demand that others should provide you with answers is like asking a strange woman to give birth to your baby. There are insights that can be born only of your own pain, and they are the most precious. Seek in your child the undiscovered part of yourself.
Growing up as an only child, I vowed to myself that when I got married my family would consist of at least two children. I wanted my child to have at least one sibling for companionship. Having three, I learned a lot. There was trememdous sibling rivalry between the first and second child and at an early age they knew exactly how to get attention from me. It turned out that my wife was the strict disciplinarian and I was kind of middle of the road. They saw this and played one against the other. It created some conflict between my wife and I and that was part of our growing up process.
The old saying, “Little children, little problems; big children, big problems,” is easy enough to dismiss, yet like most clichés, it contains a significant truth. A six-year-old may only snitch cookies; at sixteen he may be shoplifting. And while the will of a small child may be guided with relative ease, a rebellious teenager can only be reined in with the most strenuous effort.
The art of discipline is like walking a tightrope, there has to be a balanced approach. The goal should always be to help them gain the confidence that enables them to explore life and yet know their limits. That is the best preparation for adulthood. You disclipine when the child exceeds the limits and you also nurture when they do what is right. Don’t be afraid to discipline a child, but the moment you feel he is sorry, be sure there is immediate and complete forgiveness on your part.
This is something that I could have done a better job at - forgiving. Sometimes it took me a few days before I could get over what was done. There were times I would turn to a boss at work and vent my frustrations because I couldn't understand why my child continued to act out.I figured he had experience since he had three boys older than mine. He would listen and would always give me the same advice which was, "when you go home, give them a hug.". At times I thought he was nuts. But looking back now, I must admit he was right. Most of the times kids act up is because they're trying to get our attention because they are having a hard time explaining what's bothering them. The more you ignore them the more they act up.
There are so many mistakes I made in raising my sons, that I could probably teach a class on what not to do. For instance, I came home after work one day to find the older two fighting. When I tried to get them to stop, they continued some more. I came very close to punching both of them but I restrained myself and punched the wall instead. All I have to do is look at my bent right pinky finger to remind me of that day. That's ok, it's better that my pinky got damaged than one of them.
There was another time when I was in the bathroom shaving and I could hear them going at it. I yelled for them to stop and they didn't listen. It seemed that they always started something at my most vulnerable moment. I continue to yell and shave at the same time. Big mistake. Let me mention that my boys have never seen me without a mustache. I figured I had time to finish shaving before things got completely out of hand. When it didn't, I lost control of what I was doing. The next time I looked up in the mirror I noticed that I had shaved half of my mustache off. What a sight! That did it. I ran out of the bathroom in search of the little devils and when I found them they froze at the sight of my face. I wish I had a camera to capture the looks on those faces. The looks were saying, wow, we really pushed dad over the edge. Once I saw those faces and the reaction that my half shaved mustache had on them, I knew that that was all the discipline they needed that day. Actually, I think they were on a guilt trip for about two weeks (the amount of time it took for my mustache to grow back).
If we truly love our children, we may at times throw up our hands in desperation, but we will never give up on them. There’s no question that being a friend and companion as well as a parent requires double the patience and energy. My wife was always critical of me because she believed that I was too much of a companion to them. I know in the past, growing up I would always hear the threat from mothers;
"wait 'til your father gets home, you're going to get a good beating." The poor guy would come home after a hard days work, enter the door and the first thing he would hear was what his child did wrong. Now he had to turn into a bad guy and take off his belt or whatever other means were used. In many cases the father was always feared.
One father explained this situation in the following manner:
When I think about it, it is much easier to live with children who fear you than it is to live with children who love you, because if your children fear you, when you come home they’re gone. They scatter. They go to their rooms and shut the door, and you make it easier for them by piling their rooms full of computers, and TVs, and stereos, and everything else. But if you have children who love you, you can’t get them out of your hair! They’re hanging on to your legs, they’re pulling on your pants, you come home and they want your attention. You sit down, they’re all over your lap. You feel like a walking jungle gym. You also feel loved.
Obviously, every family has its ups and downs, its trying moments, its embarrassing dramas. There is nothing as emotionally complex as the relationship between a parent and a child. But there is also nothing as beautiful. And that is what we need to hold on to whenever we reach the end of our rope.
Parenting is definetly the hardest and most important job one can undertake. The work is hard but the rewards can be everlasting.
Many, including my mom have vented their frustrations with this very old curse:
"Someday you will have children just like you"
I hope the Lord lets me live to see this.
Before I had children, I had six theories about bringing them up; now I have six children and no theories.
Think about this for a moment and see if you don't think that there's at least an ounce of truth in it. Whether you have children or not, everyone seems to have an opinion on how to raise them. Listen to all the opinions offerred especially after the news of some tragic event involving children.
I, too was in the column of experts who knew how to raise children. What was my experience in this field? I probably had much less than most since I was raised without a father. What I brought to the art of parenting was what I had experienced as a child. Just because I had no father, I vowed to make a concerted effort to be available to my children as much as I could. I wanted to give them what I didn't have. I will never forget the words of Dr. Schrand (head of pediatrics at Mt. Auburn Hospital) and my first born's pediatrician upon finding out that I worked at the Post Office. He said, "you have the perfect job, you will be able to be around and see your child grow unlike many fathers whose jobs take them away for periods of time."
Gee, for the first time in my life someone valued a person working for the Post Office. Those words meant a lot to me back in 1977 and they still do now in 2005. It was almost as if my father were speaking to me. He wasn't given the opportunity to spend with his boy but I would. Now there are times, mostly when I'm feeling down, I wish that they would spread their wings and leave home. The three have on various occasions spent time away from home (one away at college for 4 yrs. and the other two in the military) but they always come home to roost no matter how shabby the roost has gotten at times.
Advising parents on how to bring up children and discipline them is very hard since each one brings with him or her a unique set of strengths and weaknesses, promises and challenges, as does every parent. Perhaps it is best to follow the wisdom of Janusz Korczak (1878-1942), a remarkable Jewish pediatrician. He writes:
You yourself are the child you must learn to know, rear, and above all enlighten. To demand that others should provide you with answers is like asking a strange woman to give birth to your baby. There are insights that can be born only of your own pain, and they are the most precious. Seek in your child the undiscovered part of yourself.
Growing up as an only child, I vowed to myself that when I got married my family would consist of at least two children. I wanted my child to have at least one sibling for companionship. Having three, I learned a lot. There was trememdous sibling rivalry between the first and second child and at an early age they knew exactly how to get attention from me. It turned out that my wife was the strict disciplinarian and I was kind of middle of the road. They saw this and played one against the other. It created some conflict between my wife and I and that was part of our growing up process.
The old saying, “Little children, little problems; big children, big problems,” is easy enough to dismiss, yet like most clichés, it contains a significant truth. A six-year-old may only snitch cookies; at sixteen he may be shoplifting. And while the will of a small child may be guided with relative ease, a rebellious teenager can only be reined in with the most strenuous effort.
The art of discipline is like walking a tightrope, there has to be a balanced approach. The goal should always be to help them gain the confidence that enables them to explore life and yet know their limits. That is the best preparation for adulthood. You disclipine when the child exceeds the limits and you also nurture when they do what is right. Don’t be afraid to discipline a child, but the moment you feel he is sorry, be sure there is immediate and complete forgiveness on your part.
This is something that I could have done a better job at - forgiving. Sometimes it took me a few days before I could get over what was done. There were times I would turn to a boss at work and vent my frustrations because I couldn't understand why my child continued to act out.I figured he had experience since he had three boys older than mine. He would listen and would always give me the same advice which was, "when you go home, give them a hug.". At times I thought he was nuts. But looking back now, I must admit he was right. Most of the times kids act up is because they're trying to get our attention because they are having a hard time explaining what's bothering them. The more you ignore them the more they act up.
There are so many mistakes I made in raising my sons, that I could probably teach a class on what not to do. For instance, I came home after work one day to find the older two fighting. When I tried to get them to stop, they continued some more. I came very close to punching both of them but I restrained myself and punched the wall instead. All I have to do is look at my bent right pinky finger to remind me of that day. That's ok, it's better that my pinky got damaged than one of them.
There was another time when I was in the bathroom shaving and I could hear them going at it. I yelled for them to stop and they didn't listen. It seemed that they always started something at my most vulnerable moment. I continue to yell and shave at the same time. Big mistake. Let me mention that my boys have never seen me without a mustache. I figured I had time to finish shaving before things got completely out of hand. When it didn't, I lost control of what I was doing. The next time I looked up in the mirror I noticed that I had shaved half of my mustache off. What a sight! That did it. I ran out of the bathroom in search of the little devils and when I found them they froze at the sight of my face. I wish I had a camera to capture the looks on those faces. The looks were saying, wow, we really pushed dad over the edge. Once I saw those faces and the reaction that my half shaved mustache had on them, I knew that that was all the discipline they needed that day. Actually, I think they were on a guilt trip for about two weeks (the amount of time it took for my mustache to grow back).
If we truly love our children, we may at times throw up our hands in desperation, but we will never give up on them. There’s no question that being a friend and companion as well as a parent requires double the patience and energy. My wife was always critical of me because she believed that I was too much of a companion to them. I know in the past, growing up I would always hear the threat from mothers;
"wait 'til your father gets home, you're going to get a good beating." The poor guy would come home after a hard days work, enter the door and the first thing he would hear was what his child did wrong. Now he had to turn into a bad guy and take off his belt or whatever other means were used. In many cases the father was always feared.
One father explained this situation in the following manner:
When I think about it, it is much easier to live with children who fear you than it is to live with children who love you, because if your children fear you, when you come home they’re gone. They scatter. They go to their rooms and shut the door, and you make it easier for them by piling their rooms full of computers, and TVs, and stereos, and everything else. But if you have children who love you, you can’t get them out of your hair! They’re hanging on to your legs, they’re pulling on your pants, you come home and they want your attention. You sit down, they’re all over your lap. You feel like a walking jungle gym. You also feel loved.
Obviously, every family has its ups and downs, its trying moments, its embarrassing dramas. There is nothing as emotionally complex as the relationship between a parent and a child. But there is also nothing as beautiful. And that is what we need to hold on to whenever we reach the end of our rope.
Parenting is definetly the hardest and most important job one can undertake. The work is hard but the rewards can be everlasting.
Many, including my mom have vented their frustrations with this very old curse:
"Someday you will have children just like you"
I hope the Lord lets me live to see this.
8.02.2005
Uncle Luigi
The following passage from Scripture, “Sell your possessions and give to the poor” got me thinking on how I could better put this into practice. I was reminded of the following incident where Jesus was comparing the generosity of the rich, who ostensibly put large gifts into the offering box, and that of a poor widow. Jesus exclaimed, “This poor widow has put in more than all the others. All these people gave their gifts out of their wealth; but she out of her poverty put in all she had to live on” (Luke 21:1–4). In other words, it matters little how much one gives. What matters is what one gives. If it is just a part of your income, it isn’t justice, mercy, and faithfulness.
I don't know if this is where the term, 'give until it hurts' comes from but it certainly provides a clear picture. You look at this example from a rich person's perspective and you can see how hard it is for them to comprehend how the woman who gave two copper coins gave more than their contribution of 100. To them they gave 50 times what the poor widow gave. They are caught up in the numbers.
Think back to when you were young and if you grew up in the 50's and even 60's you'll remember of how the majority of people were working stiffs; living day to day week to week. Sometimes when your mother went shopping you noticed that she didn't have enough money to pay for whatever she bought and would tell the proprietor to put it "on the tab." The store owner knew you and trusted you to pay your bill as soon as you got payed. This was their way of giving you credit.
These people that I grew up with had very little, yet they would give you their last $10 when they found someone in greater need than them. They were always willing to provide help while sacrificing their own needs and they did it quietly and sometimes anonymously. They didn't do it for self aggrandizement like many do today.
My uncle Luigi, may God rest his soul, gave me a great example of what it means to give. Growing up in Italy after WWII, people were very poor. You were lucky to have two sets of clothes, one for every day use and one that you wore only on Sundays. Luigi had a very small office in town where many came to get help in the reading, translation and filing of various documents. Many of the people he served were the poor and eldely who were also illiterate. Many could not afford to pay him for his services but they would always make restitution in some other form whether it be with a gallon of wine or maybe with some locally grown fruits and vegetables from their orchards. My uncle never refused to serve anyone. He was self taght having no more than a fifth grade education yet he could spar with the best lawyers from the area.
One day I heard him calling up to my mother. She went to the balcony to see what he wanted and I heard him tell her to throw his only other pair of pants out of the window. She asked him why. He said, "don't be so inquisitive, just do as I say." Later that day, I found out that he had given them to a man that didn't have any. He did many works of charity with very little fan fare. In fact he didn't want anyone to know because they would always tell him that he was nuts and that he needed to take care of himself. My uncle a devout Catholic, turned away from his religion in his early teens to join the Communist party. He couldn't stand the hypocrisy he found in many of the local church leaders. His family was ashamed of him for doing so, but he did more for people than the so called faithful ones in the town.
When I think of his pair of pants, I think of the abundance of clothes I have hanging in the closet and up the attic. I must have at least 10 to 20 times the amount my uncle had. Some don't even fit any more because of middle age spread. Even though I've wised up and curtailed my spending on additional clothes, I must admit that I've done a poor job of redistributing my wealth. If I have all this stuff in my house, how much does my neighbor have? How much is in my community? my state? this country?
I don't know how the country hasn't sunk from the weight of all the stuff we accumulate and continue to do so. We've been told that this is the American way. We need to spend and buy things to keep the economy growing and people working. Have you stopped to think what products we produce in this country? The 'Made in USA' bird has been on the endangered species list for about 10 yrs. If you have a sighting please let me know.
So who is benefiting from the American way of life? If you can't answer this you must be going around with blinders on, or you must be a high ranking executive in one of the major corporations, or you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.
I don't mean to talk down to anyone. I put most of my thoughts on paper for my own benefit and to make me think of what I need to do to get closer to God. I need to chastise myself to make me see that I've taken the wrong fork in the road. I need to take time and thank the Lord for all I have. I need to be more like my uncle Luigi.
I don't know if this is where the term, 'give until it hurts' comes from but it certainly provides a clear picture. You look at this example from a rich person's perspective and you can see how hard it is for them to comprehend how the woman who gave two copper coins gave more than their contribution of 100. To them they gave 50 times what the poor widow gave. They are caught up in the numbers.
Think back to when you were young and if you grew up in the 50's and even 60's you'll remember of how the majority of people were working stiffs; living day to day week to week. Sometimes when your mother went shopping you noticed that she didn't have enough money to pay for whatever she bought and would tell the proprietor to put it "on the tab." The store owner knew you and trusted you to pay your bill as soon as you got payed. This was their way of giving you credit.
These people that I grew up with had very little, yet they would give you their last $10 when they found someone in greater need than them. They were always willing to provide help while sacrificing their own needs and they did it quietly and sometimes anonymously. They didn't do it for self aggrandizement like many do today.
My uncle Luigi, may God rest his soul, gave me a great example of what it means to give. Growing up in Italy after WWII, people were very poor. You were lucky to have two sets of clothes, one for every day use and one that you wore only on Sundays. Luigi had a very small office in town where many came to get help in the reading, translation and filing of various documents. Many of the people he served were the poor and eldely who were also illiterate. Many could not afford to pay him for his services but they would always make restitution in some other form whether it be with a gallon of wine or maybe with some locally grown fruits and vegetables from their orchards. My uncle never refused to serve anyone. He was self taght having no more than a fifth grade education yet he could spar with the best lawyers from the area.
One day I heard him calling up to my mother. She went to the balcony to see what he wanted and I heard him tell her to throw his only other pair of pants out of the window. She asked him why. He said, "don't be so inquisitive, just do as I say." Later that day, I found out that he had given them to a man that didn't have any. He did many works of charity with very little fan fare. In fact he didn't want anyone to know because they would always tell him that he was nuts and that he needed to take care of himself. My uncle a devout Catholic, turned away from his religion in his early teens to join the Communist party. He couldn't stand the hypocrisy he found in many of the local church leaders. His family was ashamed of him for doing so, but he did more for people than the so called faithful ones in the town.
When I think of his pair of pants, I think of the abundance of clothes I have hanging in the closet and up the attic. I must have at least 10 to 20 times the amount my uncle had. Some don't even fit any more because of middle age spread. Even though I've wised up and curtailed my spending on additional clothes, I must admit that I've done a poor job of redistributing my wealth. If I have all this stuff in my house, how much does my neighbor have? How much is in my community? my state? this country?
I don't know how the country hasn't sunk from the weight of all the stuff we accumulate and continue to do so. We've been told that this is the American way. We need to spend and buy things to keep the economy growing and people working. Have you stopped to think what products we produce in this country? The 'Made in USA' bird has been on the endangered species list for about 10 yrs. If you have a sighting please let me know.
So who is benefiting from the American way of life? If you can't answer this you must be going around with blinders on, or you must be a high ranking executive in one of the major corporations, or you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth.
I don't mean to talk down to anyone. I put most of my thoughts on paper for my own benefit and to make me think of what I need to do to get closer to God. I need to chastise myself to make me see that I've taken the wrong fork in the road. I need to take time and thank the Lord for all I have. I need to be more like my uncle Luigi.
Tainted Baseball Records
Sunday, Wade Boggs and Ryne Sandberg were inducted into the Hall of Fame. I caught a good portion of Sandberg's acceptance speech and it was refreshing to hear him talk about having respect for the game.
He said, "The reason I am here, they tell me, is that I played the game a certain way, that I played the game the way it was supposed to be played. I don't know about that, but I do know this: I had too much respect for the game to play it any other way, and if there was there was a single reason I am here today, it is because of one word, respect."
It was apparent to me that he was sending a message to today's so called pampered super stars. Was he talking about Manny Ramirez or Barry Bonds or Sammy Sosa or maybe even Rafael Palmiero? It was almost as if he knew that the following day Major League Baseball would reveal that Palmiero had tested positive for the use of steroids. What a disgrace! Sandberg is right in implying that today's ball players are very selfish and have no respect for the game. They have no respect for the greats that have played the game before them. They have no respect for the records that were set by the likes of Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron, Ted Williams, Joe DiMaggio et al.
Sandberg also mentioned that, "I didn't play the game right because I saw a reward at the end of the tunnel. I played it right because that's what you're supposed to do, play it right and with respect. If this validates anything, it's that learning how to bunt and hit and run and turning two is more important than knowing where to find the little red light at the dug out camera."
As I listenend to his speech, I found myself saying, "good for him, we need more people to speak out and not worry about offending anyone." We have too many people trying to be politically correct and they come off as big phonies.
Now we have been told that Rafael Palmiero,who pointed his finger at congressmen a few months back and made a believer out of me when he said he never did steroids, has rested positive. To me, he was one of the few testifying that had some credibility. Now, I don't know who to believe anymore. Maybe Jose Canseco was right in saying that a lot of players cheated.
In a statement released Monday through the Orioles, Palmeiro denied taking steroids. "I am here to make it very clear that I have never intentionally used steroids," he said. "Never. Ever. Period." What does he mean? Did someone slip something into his PowerAde? Has he been set up? Come on, we're dumb but not that dumb.
If they were to re-write Simon & Garfankul's song, Mrs. Robinson, the new lyrics should be, "where have you gone Barry Bonds." The biggest steroid user of all has disappeared. He is in Major League Baseball's version of the witness protection program. He doesn't want to play this year for fear that he will be exposed for the fraud that he is.
The game that I adopted and learned to love as a kid coming from a foreign country has been tainted by perfomance enducing drugs. Hank Aaron and Babe Ruth will always be my home run kings. They achieved their feats naturally. I will never respect the achievements that Bonds, McGuire, Sosa, Giambi and the rest of the big heads have attained because it appears they cheated.
If these players are voted into the Hall of Fame in the future, I hope that they will go in and placed in a different wing. They should not be put into the same building that house the past greats, like Willie Mays, Stan Musial and Roberto Clemente.
But then I say to myself, why should I worry about these high priced entertainers when there are many more serious problems that don't get an iota of publicity. What about that 2 year old at the Dana Farber Hospital that's battling with brain cancer or the mothers in the Sudan who are watching their young ones die of starvation. You might hear a peep on the news about these things while trivial matters get non stop coverage until the next trivial matter comes along to replace it.
He said, "The reason I am here, they tell me, is that I played the game a certain way, that I played the game the way it was supposed to be played. I don't know about that, but I do know this: I had too much respect for the game to play it any other way, and if there was there was a single reason I am here today, it is because of one word, respect."
It was apparent to me that he was sending a message to today's so called pampered super stars. Was he talking about Manny Ramirez or Barry Bonds or Sammy Sosa or maybe even Rafael Palmiero? It was almost as if he knew that the following day Major League Baseball would reveal that Palmiero had tested positive for the use of steroids. What a disgrace! Sandberg is right in implying that today's ball players are very selfish and have no respect for the game. They have no respect for the greats that have played the game before them. They have no respect for the records that were set by the likes of Babe Ruth, Hank Aaron, Ted Williams, Joe DiMaggio et al.
Sandberg also mentioned that, "I didn't play the game right because I saw a reward at the end of the tunnel. I played it right because that's what you're supposed to do, play it right and with respect. If this validates anything, it's that learning how to bunt and hit and run and turning two is more important than knowing where to find the little red light at the dug out camera."
As I listenend to his speech, I found myself saying, "good for him, we need more people to speak out and not worry about offending anyone." We have too many people trying to be politically correct and they come off as big phonies.
Now we have been told that Rafael Palmiero,who pointed his finger at congressmen a few months back and made a believer out of me when he said he never did steroids, has rested positive. To me, he was one of the few testifying that had some credibility. Now, I don't know who to believe anymore. Maybe Jose Canseco was right in saying that a lot of players cheated.
In a statement released Monday through the Orioles, Palmeiro denied taking steroids. "I am here to make it very clear that I have never intentionally used steroids," he said. "Never. Ever. Period." What does he mean? Did someone slip something into his PowerAde? Has he been set up? Come on, we're dumb but not that dumb.
If they were to re-write Simon & Garfankul's song, Mrs. Robinson, the new lyrics should be, "where have you gone Barry Bonds." The biggest steroid user of all has disappeared. He is in Major League Baseball's version of the witness protection program. He doesn't want to play this year for fear that he will be exposed for the fraud that he is.
The game that I adopted and learned to love as a kid coming from a foreign country has been tainted by perfomance enducing drugs. Hank Aaron and Babe Ruth will always be my home run kings. They achieved their feats naturally. I will never respect the achievements that Bonds, McGuire, Sosa, Giambi and the rest of the big heads have attained because it appears they cheated.
If these players are voted into the Hall of Fame in the future, I hope that they will go in and placed in a different wing. They should not be put into the same building that house the past greats, like Willie Mays, Stan Musial and Roberto Clemente.
But then I say to myself, why should I worry about these high priced entertainers when there are many more serious problems that don't get an iota of publicity. What about that 2 year old at the Dana Farber Hospital that's battling with brain cancer or the mothers in the Sudan who are watching their young ones die of starvation. You might hear a peep on the news about these things while trivial matters get non stop coverage until the next trivial matter comes along to replace it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
