Question - What is the second most popular holiday of the year in this country?
Answer - Halloween. The nation as a whole will spend over $6 billion; 50 percent of Americans will take photographs of family or friends in costume; 70 percent of American households will open their doors and offer candy to strangers, most of them children.
Number one by the way, if you hadn't guessed it, is Christmas.
How did Halloween start and why?
For the Celtic people of Northeastern Europe, November 1st was New Year's Day, and October 31 was the last night of the year. Celts believed it was the night that spirits, ghosts, fairies and goblins freely walked the earth. Archaeologists aren't entirely sure what all the traditions were, but they believe the holiday involved bonfires, dressing up in costumes to scare away evil spirits, and offering food and drink to the spirits of family members who had come back to visit the home.
It was Pope Gregory III in the eighth century A.D. who tried to turn Halloween into a Christian holiday to divert Northern Europeans from celebrating an old pagan ritual. He made November 1st All Saints Day, and October 31 became All Hallows Eve. Instead of providing food and drink to the spirits, Christians were encouraged to provide food and drink to the poor. And instead of dressing up like animals and ghosts, Christians were encouraged to dress up like their favorite saints.
In the United States, Puritans tried to outlaw Halloween, in part because of its association with Catholicism. So it was the Irish Catholics who brought Halloween to this country, when they immigrated here in great numbers after the potato famine in the 1840's. Since the Irish were largely poor and oppressed, Halloween became a holiday for them to let off steam by pulling pranks, hoisting wagons onto barn roofs, releasing cows from their pastures, and committing all kinds of mischief involving outhouses. Treats evolved as a way to bribe the vandals and protect homes.
But by the late 1800's, Victorian women's magazines began to offer suggestions for celebrating Halloween in wholesome ways, with barn dancing and apple bobbing. And by the early 20th Century, it became a holiday for children more than adults. In 1920, the Ladies' Home Journal made the first known reference to children going door to door for candy, and by the 1950's it was a universal practice in this country. By 1999, 92 percent of America's children were trick-or-treatin
Halloween for me is the day I entered the United States back in 1955. Today I celebrated my 50th anniversary of being in this country. When I landed in New York in 1955, I remember asking my mother's uncle who picked us up at the pier what were all the crazy decorations for.
The only thing I could relate it to was our celebration of carneval in February.
Trick or treating in the North End as a youngster was a lot of work. Most apartment buildings on average had four floors and for the most part we would climb all four floors. I remember some of the stairways being very narrow barely accomodating a parade of kids going up and another coming down. You didn't have to walk too far to fill a shopping bag full of candy. Yes, us poor kids used a shopping bag and some would borrow an old pillow case to put our candy in. We didn't have money to buy a costume, so we would improvise with whatever we could find at home. I hated when someone gave me a candied apple. I remember Mrs. DelloRusso on Salem St. would give out shiny nickels in lieu of candy; that's the equivalent of 50 cents today.
We worked for our treats. Now kids are accompanied by their parents and are driven from place to place. Even the parents dress up today and some houses are all decked out, more so that at Christmas.
Halloween to me now has a special meaning. It makes me stop and thank the Lord for giving me the opportunity to come to this great land called America.
10.31.2005
10.30.2005
Status of Blogs
For your information, I've been publishing to three separate blogs.
1. Lino's Line - I use for general thoughts and ideas
2. Che Si Dice - I use mostly for topics related to Italian heritage
3. Sentimental - I use to write on matters dealing with mental illness
To access Che Si Dice and Sentimental look under the "links" heading on the right hand side of Lino's Line blog and click on the shortcut. This will bring you to the other two blogs.
1. Lino's Line - I use for general thoughts and ideas
2. Che Si Dice - I use mostly for topics related to Italian heritage
3. Sentimental - I use to write on matters dealing with mental illness
To access Che Si Dice and Sentimental look under the "links" heading on the right hand side of Lino's Line blog and click on the shortcut. This will bring you to the other two blogs.
10.29.2005
The Reviews Are In
The reviews keep coming in at the Food TV website for Frankie's Gravy. With the exception of a few most rate the recipe as excellent, 5 stars. For the few that didn't rate as high, I say to them nobody's perfect; what the heck even Joe DiMaggio's streak ended at 56.
Listed are the reviews. I left out the names and did not alter the spelling or grammar errors. To see the actual reviews, go to:
javascript:ol('http://www.foodnetwork.com/food/my_recipe_box/review/0,1973,FOOD_9919_31438,00.html');
Here's what people said after they made Frankie's award winning recipe:
Easy and delicious!!!!
I'm a very picky spaghetti sauce eater, and found this sauce to be relatively easy and full of flavor. Itwas my first time making meatballs and I felt like an Italian for the very firsttime in the kitchen.i've been looking for a great meatball for 40
years...thank you!
My boyfriend, and his friend loved this recipe. This
was my first time cooking for him and he loved it.
I LOVED THE MEATBALLS BUT THE SAUCE WAS TO BLAND MAYBE SOMETHING IN THE RECIPE WAS LEFT OUT I FOLLOWED LIKE IT READ—STEVE
This is time consuming but well worth it! I hate tocook but when I saw this on the show it looked so good I had to try. I now makethis about once a month. I have neverused jar spaghetti sauce (ick!) I havealways made my own, simple sauce, butthis is now my one & only pasta sauce recipe!
This recipe promised, but failed to deliver. The sauce was very bland and the meatballs tasted like something out of a Spaghettio's can. Yuck. I will not use this one again.
I have to admit that I've never made my own sauce and this receipe was easy and it tasted great. The meatballs were so moist and melted in my mouth. I used a can of Rotel tomatoes to step it up a notch. My family loved it. This receipe will be in my family for years to come.
Absolutely wonderful and I didn't even have the measurements. I had to ad lib a bit, but it was the best best best spaghetti and meatballs I'd ever had. Thank you for holding the contest and thanks to Frankie.
Great recipe! When are you going to have Frankie on again? I'm sure he has other award winning Italian recipes that he can shre with the Food Network family. Can't
wait!
This is the recipe I will be passing on to my kids!! Frankie, you outdid yourself! My husband and I think you're awesome!!
Not hard to make - the meatballs were so tender and the gravy just delicious - Thank you, Frankie! Great
This recipe was great!!! The sauce was rich with flavor and the smell throughout my house was heavenly!! Thanks for a great recipe!!!
This recipe is a great starter recipe, I altered this recipe a little bit ok maybe alot I like my sauce spicey.
I made this last night, and although the prep time took me longer than anticipated, the final results were well worth it! I used crushed tomatoes and gave them a quick few pulps in the food processor as my son hates chunks of tomatoes. The meatballs and sauce were absolutely wonderful! My son, the pickiest eater I know, said it was
"delectable" and he was right!
This was a very good take on the classic meatball dish. It was fun to make but wow what a mess. The end result was worth it. Definetly a Sunday kind of thing
I always wanted to make meatballs and this is the first time I did. I used ground sirloin and the meatballs were delicious! I thought the sauce tasted too much like tomatoes, but it was still good. I used crushed tomatoes and I didn't think the sauce was too thick. My whole family loved it! Tonight we are making meatball subs with the leftovers.
Good Great & Wonderful,what more can be said .
The sauce and meatballs make and awesome sandwich
Fantastic Gravy!! Easy to make and just delicious.
Growing up Italian, you grow up to love your mother's sauce. Once you acquire a taste for your mother's, it's hard to accept another. After trying Frankie's Gravy, sorry mom if you read this, I must say it is better than my mom's. That's the best compliment one Italian can offer to another. As the for the person who wants to kick it up a notch, go ahead knock yourself out. Remember Frankie didn't make an Arrabbiata sauce, just a nice southern Italian spaghetti sauce.
This was an awesome recipe. I have never made spaghetti sauce in my life let alone meatballs. They were so good,something I will make again for sure!!!
This is one FANTASTIC pasta sauce, and the meatballs are wonderful. One suggestion: double the sauce recipe. There isn't enough sauce to go with all the meatballs. Next time I make this--and I definitely will make it again soon--that's what I'll do. Delicious! Thanks Frankie!
agree with another review in that if someone doesn't like this, they don't know what a good sauce is supposed to taste like. This tastes exactly like my grandma's (she was Sicilian, but raised in New Orleans), and I'm so glad to find this recipe because I have regretted not getting hers before she died. My sister and her family was over today, and we all reminisced as we loved every bite. Thanks!
Had our kids and grandkids over and we all loved it.
A big hit in my house. We love it!!
A big disappointment. Meatballs were good but the sauce was so bland. It needs to be
"kicked up" a notch or two for sure. Brenda, San Diego, Ca
very good
Very tasty meatballs! My husband and I loved it! It's in my list of
recipes. Thank you Frank!!
Anyone who doesn't like this has not a CLUE was authentic sauce should taste like. It has a rich bold flavor with stick to your ribs satisfaction. If you like a thinner sauce, just add broth or wine. Don't add too much extra or you will lose the traditional flavor. I added a tad more pepper and a little onion/garlic powder. My husband is Italian and he LOVED this recipe. I WILL DEFINATELY make this again!
What kind of tomatoes did everyone use. I used crushed tomatoes and found the gravy a little to thick.
Very good tastes great in your mouth.
This is a wonderful recipe and so easy to make - my family will never let me even think about a jar of sauce, those days are gone. The meatballs are nice and firm and delicious. Thank you Frankie
A taste of genuine home made cooking like Grandma use to make...Food brings a feeling of memories to warm your heart and feed your soul. Anytime a taste of something familiar comes along leaves you feeling happier and content.
10.25.2005
Trumped
The quote, “There’s a sucker born every minute,” whose origin has been incorrectly credited to P.T. Barnum, of circus fame, was in evidence this weekend in New York.
The suckers were the thousands of people who paid anywhere from $100 to $500 a ticket to attend a lecture given by real-estate mogul, Donald Trump, who was paid $1.5 million for the hour long speech.
Here are some of the nuggets of wisdom that were provided:
- Urged listeners to be aggressive and remain suspicious of advisers
- When somebody challenges you, fight back
- Be brutal, be tough, just go get them
- Get the best people and don't trust them
- Work with them, but they have to have respect for you
Wow! Mr. Trump got paid $25,000 a minute to dispense advice that I received for free growing up in the streets of the North End of Boston in the ‘50s and ‘60s.
This smells of plagiarism. These were the same principles that the capo di tutti I capi, The Godfather lived by. Gee, Raymond Patriarca would be turning in his grave if he knew he could have earned $25,000 a minute by giving a lecture on the laws of the street.
The Donald trumped them again!
Remember, no matter how rich you become, how famous or powerful, when you die the size of your funeral will still pretty much depend on the weather.
The suckers were the thousands of people who paid anywhere from $100 to $500 a ticket to attend a lecture given by real-estate mogul, Donald Trump, who was paid $1.5 million for the hour long speech.
Here are some of the nuggets of wisdom that were provided:
- Urged listeners to be aggressive and remain suspicious of advisers
- When somebody challenges you, fight back
- Be brutal, be tough, just go get them
- Get the best people and don't trust them
- Work with them, but they have to have respect for you
Wow! Mr. Trump got paid $25,000 a minute to dispense advice that I received for free growing up in the streets of the North End of Boston in the ‘50s and ‘60s.
This smells of plagiarism. These were the same principles that the capo di tutti I capi, The Godfather lived by. Gee, Raymond Patriarca would be turning in his grave if he knew he could have earned $25,000 a minute by giving a lecture on the laws of the street.
The Donald trumped them again!
Remember, no matter how rich you become, how famous or powerful, when you die the size of your funeral will still pretty much depend on the weather.
10.23.2005
Fed Up
On my way to church this morning a car with out of state license plates cut in front of me. I don’t remember what state it was from because my eyes were distracted by the letters on the license plate. I looked twice to make sure I was seeing straight and on second look I was sure that it was IMFEDUP. I immediately forgot about what I was thinking of at the time and started to devote my time on the words on the license plate – I’m Fed Up.
At first I thought that it was pretty clever and then I had a feeling of wanting to catch up with the driver and ask him/her (didn’t notice who was driving) what they were fed up about. They must have had a good reason for requesting that license plate, I thought. Who were they fed up with? What were they fed up with? Those were the questions that kept popping up in my mind. The questions subsided when I finally lost sight of the car.
My thoughts now turned to me. What was I fed up with? When you have lived over fifty years there are many things one can get fed up with. I noticed that one side of my brain kept asking what are you fed up with and the other side started coming up with answers.
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with the bozo at the traffic department who’s responsible for the traffic lights in the city. I’m fed up with having to stop at four successive red lights in a 200 yard span. As one light turns green, the next light a few hundred feet away turns red and so on it goes. It's stop, go, stop , go, it's maddening. Why doesn’t someone synchronize the blasted lights that way you’re not stopping every 20 seconds? Talk about trying to conserve fuel – how the heck can you?
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with the conditions of our streets and roads. I think the streets in Baghdad even after all the bombings must be in better shape than the ones in the city. I’d like to have 1% of the money that Umbro Construction has made from continuously digging up our streets. What’s with all the construction? Is it ever going to end?
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with people not yielding at rotaries. I’m also fed up with rotaries. I challenge you to stand at a rotary and see if within 15 minutes you don’t witness a dozen near misses. Talk about taking your life in your hands. Yield doesn’t mean to go faster.
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with calling a customer service department of any large company. These are no longer customer service, but customer annoyance lines. I love it when the recording comes on and says, “Your call is important to us…..” – Bull, if our call was important, you would hire a few more people to service your customers. I feel bad about taking out my anger at the poor stiff that has such an ungrateful job.
Have you noticed that credit card companies make it hard for you to call them if you think there's an error on your bill? They ask you to take up the matter via mail.
What are you fed up with?
If you’re under fifty this is probably not of concern to you yet, but at my age, I’m fed up with the lack of restrooms available in the city. God forbid you get an upset stomach while riding the T – where do you go?
Just got an idea of how to make some money; compile a list of locations of restrooms, publish it and sell it. Let’s see Filene’s has one on the fifth floor I believe, but it’s well hidden. You see even the places that have one make it difficult for you to find them.
What are you fed up with?
The drive-through windows, especially at Dunkin Donuts, where half the time, either the speakers need to be adjusted or the newly arrived immigrant cannot be understood. I go up to the window, wait and there and then here something like, “Abar der abah?” At first I would ask them to repeat themselves, now I just assume that they are asking me what I want in Dunkin lingo and just give them my order and hope that they understand. Why is it that I can always understand, “OK, drive-Up?”
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with supermarkets not putting price labels on items and jacking up the price of a product whenever they have a buy one get one free sale. Why do you have to wait so long at the Express lane?
What are you fed up with?
I’m tired of credit card companies continually sending blank checks and trying to entice me to spend more than I can afford, plus I have to be careful how I dispose of these. Why don’t they send one worth some money for a change? I’ve got plenty of blank checks; I don’t need anymore thank you.
Why doesn't the Post Office charge them the same amount as I pay, when I mail a check?
I need to stop since I arrived at my destination.
What are you fed up with?
At first I thought that it was pretty clever and then I had a feeling of wanting to catch up with the driver and ask him/her (didn’t notice who was driving) what they were fed up about. They must have had a good reason for requesting that license plate, I thought. Who were they fed up with? What were they fed up with? Those were the questions that kept popping up in my mind. The questions subsided when I finally lost sight of the car.
My thoughts now turned to me. What was I fed up with? When you have lived over fifty years there are many things one can get fed up with. I noticed that one side of my brain kept asking what are you fed up with and the other side started coming up with answers.
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with the bozo at the traffic department who’s responsible for the traffic lights in the city. I’m fed up with having to stop at four successive red lights in a 200 yard span. As one light turns green, the next light a few hundred feet away turns red and so on it goes. It's stop, go, stop , go, it's maddening. Why doesn’t someone synchronize the blasted lights that way you’re not stopping every 20 seconds? Talk about trying to conserve fuel – how the heck can you?
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with the conditions of our streets and roads. I think the streets in Baghdad even after all the bombings must be in better shape than the ones in the city. I’d like to have 1% of the money that Umbro Construction has made from continuously digging up our streets. What’s with all the construction? Is it ever going to end?
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with people not yielding at rotaries. I’m also fed up with rotaries. I challenge you to stand at a rotary and see if within 15 minutes you don’t witness a dozen near misses. Talk about taking your life in your hands. Yield doesn’t mean to go faster.
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with calling a customer service department of any large company. These are no longer customer service, but customer annoyance lines. I love it when the recording comes on and says, “Your call is important to us…..” – Bull, if our call was important, you would hire a few more people to service your customers. I feel bad about taking out my anger at the poor stiff that has such an ungrateful job.
Have you noticed that credit card companies make it hard for you to call them if you think there's an error on your bill? They ask you to take up the matter via mail.
What are you fed up with?
If you’re under fifty this is probably not of concern to you yet, but at my age, I’m fed up with the lack of restrooms available in the city. God forbid you get an upset stomach while riding the T – where do you go?
Just got an idea of how to make some money; compile a list of locations of restrooms, publish it and sell it. Let’s see Filene’s has one on the fifth floor I believe, but it’s well hidden. You see even the places that have one make it difficult for you to find them.
What are you fed up with?
The drive-through windows, especially at Dunkin Donuts, where half the time, either the speakers need to be adjusted or the newly arrived immigrant cannot be understood. I go up to the window, wait and there and then here something like, “Abar der abah?” At first I would ask them to repeat themselves, now I just assume that they are asking me what I want in Dunkin lingo and just give them my order and hope that they understand. Why is it that I can always understand, “OK, drive-Up?”
What are you fed up with?
I’m fed up with supermarkets not putting price labels on items and jacking up the price of a product whenever they have a buy one get one free sale. Why do you have to wait so long at the Express lane?
What are you fed up with?
I’m tired of credit card companies continually sending blank checks and trying to entice me to spend more than I can afford, plus I have to be careful how I dispose of these. Why don’t they send one worth some money for a change? I’ve got plenty of blank checks; I don’t need anymore thank you.
Why doesn't the Post Office charge them the same amount as I pay, when I mail a check?
I need to stop since I arrived at my destination.
What are you fed up with?
10.22.2005
To Your Health
I was thinking about how things have changed over the last 50 years. I remembered when doctors would make house calls. If you were too sick to go to see him you would call and make arrangements for the doctor to come and see you at home. Now, no matter how sick you are, you have to bring all your germs and spread them to all the people that are in the doctor’s waiting room. As you sit there waiting, your germs get to socialize with all the others in that room. You body now becomes the reception hall to all these strange germs and you may even bring some new ones home with you to share with the rest of your family and friends.
Why is that back then when I was sick my mother would call the doctor in the morning and he would come to the house later that same day and now when you call they tell you that you have to wait a month to see him. If you need medical attention you can see the physician’s assistant (PA) or you can go to the emergency room where you will wait many hours before you’ll be seen.
The family doctor from years past was truly a family doctor. He was the one that delivered you when you were born and would also be there twenty years later to deliver your children. He knew you and your family so well that he didn’t have to rely on medical records. You didn’t have to fill all those long forms that asked some very personal questions that you really didn’t want to be sharing with some strange receptionist. He knew you family’s medical history because he saw your mother and father and aunts and uncles and their children and sometimes even their grandchildren. I remember my family doctor (Dr. Scelso) was practicing medicine into his eighties. He had my family record all up there in his head because he treated them all.
I remember being in bed as a kid with a temperature of 102. My mother called Dr. Scelso and he came early that afternoon. He came wearing his fedora and carrying his little black bag. I don’t know what it was but it seems that you started feeling better as soon as he came into the house. He came into the bedroom and visited me. He only used two things, his stethoscope and a tongue depressor. He used the house thermometer to check my temperature avoiding the expense of having to buy his own. He would be done in a matter of minutes. Most times he didn’t he have to write a prescription, he would rely on mom’s chicken soup and tender loving care. He would tell her to make sure I was kept warm and given plenty of fluids. It was only if you had an infection that he would he either give you a shot on the spot or prescribe penicillin. You didn’t have to go to a lab for extensive blood work nor were you sent for a chest x-ray or some other cover their ass type of procedure. All the things that are done today weren’t necessary because no one dared to sue a doctor for malpractice. The house call cost $10 and my mother would also give the doctor some of her anisette cookies.
Back then you would probably have the same doctor all your life. Today, I’ve lost track of all the doctors that I’ve seen since I left the North End. Just in the past ten years I’ve changed to three different health plans and with each change I’ve had to select a new primary care physician. It seems that the salespeople at Filene’s Basement know me a lot better that my primary care physician. I’ve had to provide a resume to each doctor. I can’t understand why in this day and age where they track every move you make why they can’t store this information in some database that is accessible at your request by any medical professional you see.
I haven’t seen one doctor in the last ten years spend any time reviewing what I entered on the forms that I spent 15 – 20 minutes racking my brains over out in the waiting room. To some it’s just become a formality, a CYA (cover your ass) type of thing that needs to be done in case of a malpractice suit. The next time you are asked to fill out one of these forms enter something outlandish or better still, write a derogatory remark about the doctor and then see if anyone picks it up. I’ll put money on it that no one notices.
The more I look back the more I see how complicated things have become. I walk into a doctor’s office today and I find at least three people working for him. What are they all doing? They all seem to be busy pushing paperwork around and still there’s a lack of efficiency. They also seem to lack a concept of time because they always overbook. I have an appointment at 2:00 PM and notice that the next patient has been booked for a 2:10 PM appointment. If I’m lucky I’ll get to see the doctor for all of 10 minutes and for this he’s charging my health provider $150.00. If I’m lucky I’ll be called in to be weighed and have my blood pressure taken by a nurse at 2:45 PM. I feel that this is a gimmick to make you feel like you are being attended to.
My blood pressure was fine until I got agitated at having to wait in a room of germ infested people. It got increasingly higher after being told to undress and put on one of those foolish “jonnies.” I sit up on the examining table and wait like a fool for the doctor to come. Ten minutes elapse and the knock on the door is soon followed by the nurse telling me that the doctor should be there shortly. This almost feels as annoying as holding on the telephone and hearing “your call is important to us…” every 20 seconds for 30 minutes. What do you do with yourself sitting there in a jonnie while waiting patiently for the doctor’s entrance?
I don’t ever remember Dr. Scelso putting me in a jonnie and telling me to wait. Dr. Scelso didn’t have three or four people working for him. The only person he had working for him was his unmarried sister. Her main function was that of a receptionist. Dr. Scelso visited you and also collected the money. There were no medical forms or receipts or documents to worry about. Everything was paid in cash.
I just searched the internet for doctors who make house calls and found the following:
Soon you will experience what everyone has been talking about... modern medicine in the comfort of patient homes. Visiting Physicians Association (VPA) is revitalizing the "old-fashioned" tradition of house calls. Utilizing the advances of modern medicine, VPA brings the doctor's office right to the patient's home.
This has started in a few states and deals mainly with the elderly, but at least it’s a start and maybe with luck it will catch on throughout the country.
Why is that back then when I was sick my mother would call the doctor in the morning and he would come to the house later that same day and now when you call they tell you that you have to wait a month to see him. If you need medical attention you can see the physician’s assistant (PA) or you can go to the emergency room where you will wait many hours before you’ll be seen.
The family doctor from years past was truly a family doctor. He was the one that delivered you when you were born and would also be there twenty years later to deliver your children. He knew you and your family so well that he didn’t have to rely on medical records. You didn’t have to fill all those long forms that asked some very personal questions that you really didn’t want to be sharing with some strange receptionist. He knew you family’s medical history because he saw your mother and father and aunts and uncles and their children and sometimes even their grandchildren. I remember my family doctor (Dr. Scelso) was practicing medicine into his eighties. He had my family record all up there in his head because he treated them all.
I remember being in bed as a kid with a temperature of 102. My mother called Dr. Scelso and he came early that afternoon. He came wearing his fedora and carrying his little black bag. I don’t know what it was but it seems that you started feeling better as soon as he came into the house. He came into the bedroom and visited me. He only used two things, his stethoscope and a tongue depressor. He used the house thermometer to check my temperature avoiding the expense of having to buy his own. He would be done in a matter of minutes. Most times he didn’t he have to write a prescription, he would rely on mom’s chicken soup and tender loving care. He would tell her to make sure I was kept warm and given plenty of fluids. It was only if you had an infection that he would he either give you a shot on the spot or prescribe penicillin. You didn’t have to go to a lab for extensive blood work nor were you sent for a chest x-ray or some other cover their ass type of procedure. All the things that are done today weren’t necessary because no one dared to sue a doctor for malpractice. The house call cost $10 and my mother would also give the doctor some of her anisette cookies.
Back then you would probably have the same doctor all your life. Today, I’ve lost track of all the doctors that I’ve seen since I left the North End. Just in the past ten years I’ve changed to three different health plans and with each change I’ve had to select a new primary care physician. It seems that the salespeople at Filene’s Basement know me a lot better that my primary care physician. I’ve had to provide a resume to each doctor. I can’t understand why in this day and age where they track every move you make why they can’t store this information in some database that is accessible at your request by any medical professional you see.
I haven’t seen one doctor in the last ten years spend any time reviewing what I entered on the forms that I spent 15 – 20 minutes racking my brains over out in the waiting room. To some it’s just become a formality, a CYA (cover your ass) type of thing that needs to be done in case of a malpractice suit. The next time you are asked to fill out one of these forms enter something outlandish or better still, write a derogatory remark about the doctor and then see if anyone picks it up. I’ll put money on it that no one notices.
The more I look back the more I see how complicated things have become. I walk into a doctor’s office today and I find at least three people working for him. What are they all doing? They all seem to be busy pushing paperwork around and still there’s a lack of efficiency. They also seem to lack a concept of time because they always overbook. I have an appointment at 2:00 PM and notice that the next patient has been booked for a 2:10 PM appointment. If I’m lucky I’ll get to see the doctor for all of 10 minutes and for this he’s charging my health provider $150.00. If I’m lucky I’ll be called in to be weighed and have my blood pressure taken by a nurse at 2:45 PM. I feel that this is a gimmick to make you feel like you are being attended to.
My blood pressure was fine until I got agitated at having to wait in a room of germ infested people. It got increasingly higher after being told to undress and put on one of those foolish “jonnies.” I sit up on the examining table and wait like a fool for the doctor to come. Ten minutes elapse and the knock on the door is soon followed by the nurse telling me that the doctor should be there shortly. This almost feels as annoying as holding on the telephone and hearing “your call is important to us…” every 20 seconds for 30 minutes. What do you do with yourself sitting there in a jonnie while waiting patiently for the doctor’s entrance?
I don’t ever remember Dr. Scelso putting me in a jonnie and telling me to wait. Dr. Scelso didn’t have three or four people working for him. The only person he had working for him was his unmarried sister. Her main function was that of a receptionist. Dr. Scelso visited you and also collected the money. There were no medical forms or receipts or documents to worry about. Everything was paid in cash.
I just searched the internet for doctors who make house calls and found the following:
Soon you will experience what everyone has been talking about... modern medicine in the comfort of patient homes. Visiting Physicians Association (VPA) is revitalizing the "old-fashioned" tradition of house calls. Utilizing the advances of modern medicine, VPA brings the doctor's office right to the patient's home.
This has started in a few states and deals mainly with the elderly, but at least it’s a start and maybe with luck it will catch on throughout the country.
10.20.2005
Frankly my dear, I don't give a damn.
Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.
That’s how I feel when, in between all the tragedies currently occurring in our world, I read about Donald Trump complaining and blaming Martha Stewart for the loss of over 6 million viewers for “The Apprentice.”
Hundreds of thousands of people are still reeling from the effects of Katrina.
Over 50,000 have died in Pakistan because of the recent earthquake there.
Thousands of people are packing and leaving their homes in Florida in anticipation of another hurricane.
The world is bracing for a potential bird flu pandemic.
People have forgotten about the 130,000 troops over in Afghanistan and Iraq.
This is only a smidgeon of all the doom and gloom that one reads about in the news. If I want to watch “reality” TV, all I have to do is turn on any newscast. That is the real world – not what happens on “The Apprentice.”
Am I supposed to feel sorry for Donald, the real-estate mogul and TV star who is asking $125 million for an estate, comprising more than 60,000 square feet of interior space, which he bought at a bankruptcy auction last year for just over $40 million?
Do you think these people give a damn? (From today’s Boston Globe)
With a backlog of major legislation pending, a half-dozen state legislators, including several key members of Speaker Salvatore F. DiMasi's top leadership, left town last night on a 10-day trip to Spain and Portugal, essentially shutting down the House's ability to take up major business.
Other House members in the group include Representatives Gale Candaras, a Wilbraham Democrat, and Christine Canavan, a Brockton Democrat. A host of House staff are also on the trip, including the House clerk, Steven T. James, and several court officers. Family members are also on the group, which numbers about 40 people.
I hope someone warned this group about not drinking the water and not ordering any poultry dishes while there. We don’t want them exposed to the bird flu.
Just think. These people passed up going to Taunton where they could have been with Senators Kennedy and Kerry and Barney Frank. Did the people of Taunton feel any better or safer after the dynamic trio viewed the deteriorating dam?
Who gave a damn about the dam? Certainly not our state legislators who were responsible for the budget cuts over the past ten years to the Office of Dam Safety. Maybe this is where we can use the Donald’s services. Bring him in to tell some of our politicians, “YOU’RE FIRED!!”
That’s how I feel when, in between all the tragedies currently occurring in our world, I read about Donald Trump complaining and blaming Martha Stewart for the loss of over 6 million viewers for “The Apprentice.”
Hundreds of thousands of people are still reeling from the effects of Katrina.
Over 50,000 have died in Pakistan because of the recent earthquake there.
Thousands of people are packing and leaving their homes in Florida in anticipation of another hurricane.
The world is bracing for a potential bird flu pandemic.
People have forgotten about the 130,000 troops over in Afghanistan and Iraq.
This is only a smidgeon of all the doom and gloom that one reads about in the news. If I want to watch “reality” TV, all I have to do is turn on any newscast. That is the real world – not what happens on “The Apprentice.”
Am I supposed to feel sorry for Donald, the real-estate mogul and TV star who is asking $125 million for an estate, comprising more than 60,000 square feet of interior space, which he bought at a bankruptcy auction last year for just over $40 million?
Do you think these people give a damn? (From today’s Boston Globe)
With a backlog of major legislation pending, a half-dozen state legislators, including several key members of Speaker Salvatore F. DiMasi's top leadership, left town last night on a 10-day trip to Spain and Portugal, essentially shutting down the House's ability to take up major business.
Other House members in the group include Representatives Gale Candaras, a Wilbraham Democrat, and Christine Canavan, a Brockton Democrat. A host of House staff are also on the trip, including the House clerk, Steven T. James, and several court officers. Family members are also on the group, which numbers about 40 people.
I hope someone warned this group about not drinking the water and not ordering any poultry dishes while there. We don’t want them exposed to the bird flu.
Just think. These people passed up going to Taunton where they could have been with Senators Kennedy and Kerry and Barney Frank. Did the people of Taunton feel any better or safer after the dynamic trio viewed the deteriorating dam?
Who gave a damn about the dam? Certainly not our state legislators who were responsible for the budget cuts over the past ten years to the Office of Dam Safety. Maybe this is where we can use the Donald’s services. Bring him in to tell some of our politicians, “YOU’RE FIRED!!”
10.19.2005
Being Retired
I had the option at the age of 55, to take my pension. Some people say that I retired. For many the notion of being retired sounds good and many look forward to the day when they can retire, especially after having a stressful day at work. It’s nice to wake up in the morning and realize that you don’t have to be a slave to a clock or a regimented schedule any longer. It’s even nicer on those cold winter mornings, when even polar bears wouldn’t venture out. Just make yourself a second cup of coffee and relax and stay warm. It’s nice to have the option of staying in bed a little longer since you don’t have be somewhere at 5 or 6 or whatever o’clock.
The only problem I have with retirement is with the word itself. Even saying retired brings thoughts of a re-tread, to go off, go away, withdraw, leave, be put out to pasture, and put to bed. Maybe it’s the word tired that I have a problem with, and to be RE tired sounds like I’m pooped out all over again. It’s quite the contrary. I don’t feel tired because I’m not stressed by trying to do my job in a bureaucratic and militaristic environment. I’m not stressed by having to deal with and having to be directed by people who just like to flaunt their authority. I’m not stressed by having to bear witness to some worthy candidate being overlooked for promotion at the expense of some archaic and unfair affirmative action program and then having to watch them rely on the person who was not given the job.
I think of being retired as having new wheels – re tired. With the new wheels, I can now venture off and do some things I like without the fear that I might suffer a blowout. Some people ask, what do you all day now that you’re retired? I have been retired for three years and 4 months and have not been bored one day. I’ve taken a part time job driving a van which brings me in touch with people from many walks of life. I’ve volunteered my services at church and feel rewarded by giving of my time and I have a busy schedule at home caring for and elderly mother, a sick wife and three boys who are all still living at home.
I realize that there’s a fear to being retired. When I was younger, I used to be amazed and wondered why people who had worked 35 and even 40 years were still coming to work. I asked one of my employees who was retirement eligible why people at his stage seem to have such a hard time making a decision to retire and he answered, “It’s like making a decision to get married.” I realized that it was a commitment and maybe also a fear of the unknown. Sad to say, this man only lasted a short time after retiring and didn’t really get to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
What are some of the fears? I’ve often heard of the “honeydew” syndrome. That’s especially prevalent in men who retire to a home that has a stay at home wife. The retirement honeymoon lasts a short period and then the wife can’t stand to see her husband loafing around and comes up with many honey do projects. She’s not used to having someone around all day upsetting her long standing routine. Every day it’s, honey do this and honey do that and finally they start getting under each other’s skin.
If you’re wife is still working and you retire, you can expect to be checked on constantly. You’ll get calls from her throughout the day asking you what you’re doing, reminding you of things that you should be doing and asking what you’re going to make for supper. One of the things you’ll often hear is, “By the way, do you think you could..?” When you hear these words immediately break into the conversation otherwise you will have another task to do.
The other scenario is that people start taking advantage of you. You become a very valuable resource especially as a chauffer. Aunt Mary needs to go to the Chiropodist and has no one to give her a ride so you get called to take her. You automatically become the emergency contact person to your five grandchildren in the event of a problem at school. Even your neighbors take advantage of the situation. They ask if you can be around between 10 to 2 o’clock because that’s when their new mattress is going to be delivered and so you graciously take the keys of the house and wait for the delivery. I was on the fourth hole putting for a double bogie (what else) when my friend’s cell phone went off. After he finished the call he had come to the realization why his daughter’s had given him the cell phone as a Father’s day gift. It was to make sure that he could be readily reached wherever he was. I continued playing the rest of the nine holes by myself because he had to respond to an emergency at his daughter’s house.
If you live near or around family and are retired, you will never be bored. My wife’s brother-in-law, who because of the nature of his job spent little time in raising his kids, is now raising two grandchildren because of the necessity of two people working in a family to make ends meet. I’m amazed at the transformation in this former construction worker who had never changed a diaper in his life and is now doing it every day. I see a man who would never be caught dead pushing a baby carriage because to him it was unmanly now cheerfully parading his grandson in a stroller.
If you are a retired guy, I suggest that you move to Japan, this way you become the pain in the butt. A story in Sunday’s Washington Post, Sick of Their Husbands in Graying Japan, caught my eye. It seems that there’s a stress disorder that has been diagnosed in many women there after their husband retire. It’s become so prevalent that it’s even got a name, Retired Husband Syndrome, RHS. It has caused the divorce rate to double for people over 60 years of age
The two page article is found at:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/10/16/AR2005101601145_2.html
When I’m asked about what I do with my time now that I’m retired, I can now also say that I write.
May the Lord see that you approach your retirement in good spiritual, physical and mental health.
The only problem I have with retirement is with the word itself. Even saying retired brings thoughts of a re-tread, to go off, go away, withdraw, leave, be put out to pasture, and put to bed. Maybe it’s the word tired that I have a problem with, and to be RE tired sounds like I’m pooped out all over again. It’s quite the contrary. I don’t feel tired because I’m not stressed by trying to do my job in a bureaucratic and militaristic environment. I’m not stressed by having to deal with and having to be directed by people who just like to flaunt their authority. I’m not stressed by having to bear witness to some worthy candidate being overlooked for promotion at the expense of some archaic and unfair affirmative action program and then having to watch them rely on the person who was not given the job.
I think of being retired as having new wheels – re tired. With the new wheels, I can now venture off and do some things I like without the fear that I might suffer a blowout. Some people ask, what do you all day now that you’re retired? I have been retired for three years and 4 months and have not been bored one day. I’ve taken a part time job driving a van which brings me in touch with people from many walks of life. I’ve volunteered my services at church and feel rewarded by giving of my time and I have a busy schedule at home caring for and elderly mother, a sick wife and three boys who are all still living at home.
I realize that there’s a fear to being retired. When I was younger, I used to be amazed and wondered why people who had worked 35 and even 40 years were still coming to work. I asked one of my employees who was retirement eligible why people at his stage seem to have such a hard time making a decision to retire and he answered, “It’s like making a decision to get married.” I realized that it was a commitment and maybe also a fear of the unknown. Sad to say, this man only lasted a short time after retiring and didn’t really get to enjoy the fruits of his labor.
What are some of the fears? I’ve often heard of the “honeydew” syndrome. That’s especially prevalent in men who retire to a home that has a stay at home wife. The retirement honeymoon lasts a short period and then the wife can’t stand to see her husband loafing around and comes up with many honey do projects. She’s not used to having someone around all day upsetting her long standing routine. Every day it’s, honey do this and honey do that and finally they start getting under each other’s skin.
If you’re wife is still working and you retire, you can expect to be checked on constantly. You’ll get calls from her throughout the day asking you what you’re doing, reminding you of things that you should be doing and asking what you’re going to make for supper. One of the things you’ll often hear is, “By the way, do you think you could..?” When you hear these words immediately break into the conversation otherwise you will have another task to do.
The other scenario is that people start taking advantage of you. You become a very valuable resource especially as a chauffer. Aunt Mary needs to go to the Chiropodist and has no one to give her a ride so you get called to take her. You automatically become the emergency contact person to your five grandchildren in the event of a problem at school. Even your neighbors take advantage of the situation. They ask if you can be around between 10 to 2 o’clock because that’s when their new mattress is going to be delivered and so you graciously take the keys of the house and wait for the delivery. I was on the fourth hole putting for a double bogie (what else) when my friend’s cell phone went off. After he finished the call he had come to the realization why his daughter’s had given him the cell phone as a Father’s day gift. It was to make sure that he could be readily reached wherever he was. I continued playing the rest of the nine holes by myself because he had to respond to an emergency at his daughter’s house.
If you live near or around family and are retired, you will never be bored. My wife’s brother-in-law, who because of the nature of his job spent little time in raising his kids, is now raising two grandchildren because of the necessity of two people working in a family to make ends meet. I’m amazed at the transformation in this former construction worker who had never changed a diaper in his life and is now doing it every day. I see a man who would never be caught dead pushing a baby carriage because to him it was unmanly now cheerfully parading his grandson in a stroller.
If you are a retired guy, I suggest that you move to Japan, this way you become the pain in the butt. A story in Sunday’s Washington Post, Sick of Their Husbands in Graying Japan, caught my eye. It seems that there’s a stress disorder that has been diagnosed in many women there after their husband retire. It’s become so prevalent that it’s even got a name, Retired Husband Syndrome, RHS. It has caused the divorce rate to double for people over 60 years of age
The two page article is found at:
http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2005/10/16/AR2005101601145_2.html
When I’m asked about what I do with my time now that I’m retired, I can now also say that I write.
May the Lord see that you approach your retirement in good spiritual, physical and mental health.
10.17.2005
The Crew
My thanks to Rich “boom boom” Anderson for hosting the third meeting of the Fraternal Order of the 2600 Club. A special thanks to his wife for putting up and having to clean up after us. I’m sure she breathed a sigh of relief when we finally left. She must have been praying for USC to score that way we wouldn’t hang around to watch the overtime portion of the Notre Dame football game.
It was nice to see everyone again. Conspicuously missing along with his bottle of Crown Royal was Sal “Hi Ya Pal” Riggio. I especially missed him because he’s the one that gets my competitive juices flowing during the card game. I’ll blame my early exit from the card game on him. Always blame the guy that’s not there.
If you want to know how the food was, just ask Kevin “bottomless pit” Walsh. I don’t know how he can eat and drink so much and not gain an ounce. Just jealous, I guess, since I’ll never be able to get into a size 34 waist.
My thanks to Mike Rutskauskus (sp.?) and Joe Beard, a veritable Lewis and Clark when it comes to finding their way around the North Shore, for picking me up and driving home penniless but in one piece.
The card game ran its usual course with the host being unceremoniously bounced out early. Joe “get out of my way” Beard started off on a winning streak, but his risk at all cost strategy soon failed him and relegated him to the parlor with Rich. He was shortly followed by Kevin and I. They have lost all respect for their retired old boss. Come to think of it, they had no respect for their new boss, Bill (who I wish all the best on his upcoming surgery), since he was bounced out too.
Mike did his best to hang in there but was soon sent packing. It was Peter “river card” Efimetz against Dave “handyman” Leone and the handyman came out on top. Maybe with his winnings, Dave can now bribe whoever is responsible for changing his schedule AGAIN!.
Gee, how many times are they going to play around with someone’s schedule? I’ve done my share of it and I’m glad that I don’t have to be the bad guy again. Just give Joe the OT and everything will be OK. That’s OT and not HL (higher level). Do Kevin a favor.
10.16.2005
Statistics
Mark Twain was quoted as saying, "There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics." The following are some statistics (actual facts) of interest as compiled for 2005 up to October 14.
World Hunger - 6,907,406 human beings have died so far this year from hunger.
Food For Thought - 7,559,888,149 pounds of food have been wasted so far this year in the US.
Do the math, and you'll find that we could have given 1,095 lbs. of the wasted food to each of the almost seven million who died from hunger. I wonder how many lives would have been saved.
War In Iraq-Afghanistan - 68,552,250,856 dollars have been spent so far this year on Emergency Supplemental Appropriations in the US.
NASA Budget - 11,911,557,017 dollars spent so far this year.
Federal Budget Cuts -26,790,736 dollars have been cut in grants to children’s hospitals so far this year.
Our leaders have no problem spending $80 billion for the war and NASA while at the same time cutting almost $27 million that would have gone to help fund some programs at children's hospitals. I hope you see some logic to this thinking, because I don't.
US Oil Consumption - 201,971,682,648 gallons of oil used this year in America
Drink From The Sink - 291,548,443,366 glasses of tap water have been consumed so far this year in the US.
Bottled Water Trade Off - 7,765,437,188 plastic water bottles have ended up as either garbage or litter so far this year in the US.
After analyzing the last three statistics, I now see why it's necessary to spend billions on a war. Our gluttonous oil consumption habits have made it necessary for this country to try to take over an oil producing country.
I wonder if there's a long range plan to have NASA shuttle our wasted plastics and assorted garbage to another planet. Maybe they can experiment dumping the excess plastic on a planet that is closer to the sun to see what happens to tons of melted plastic. Use George Bush's theory, that it's better to kill them over there than to kill people here, plus you'll be freeing up valuable land that's currently being used to store our refuse and waste. Just think, we could have all our wasted plastics be shuttled to Mercury, all our wasted batteries to Mars, maybe our broken or outdated TV screens and computer monitors to Saturn. If we're going to continue to spend exorbitantly on the space program, we should be maximizing the space on board the shuttle to get a better return on our investment. Isn't that the good old American way?
World Hunger - 6,907,406 human beings have died so far this year from hunger.
Food For Thought - 7,559,888,149 pounds of food have been wasted so far this year in the US.
Do the math, and you'll find that we could have given 1,095 lbs. of the wasted food to each of the almost seven million who died from hunger. I wonder how many lives would have been saved.
War In Iraq-Afghanistan - 68,552,250,856 dollars have been spent so far this year on Emergency Supplemental Appropriations in the US.
NASA Budget - 11,911,557,017 dollars spent so far this year.
Federal Budget Cuts -26,790,736 dollars have been cut in grants to children’s hospitals so far this year.
Our leaders have no problem spending $80 billion for the war and NASA while at the same time cutting almost $27 million that would have gone to help fund some programs at children's hospitals. I hope you see some logic to this thinking, because I don't.
US Oil Consumption - 201,971,682,648 gallons of oil used this year in America
Drink From The Sink - 291,548,443,366 glasses of tap water have been consumed so far this year in the US.
Bottled Water Trade Off - 7,765,437,188 plastic water bottles have ended up as either garbage or litter so far this year in the US.
After analyzing the last three statistics, I now see why it's necessary to spend billions on a war. Our gluttonous oil consumption habits have made it necessary for this country to try to take over an oil producing country.
I wonder if there's a long range plan to have NASA shuttle our wasted plastics and assorted garbage to another planet. Maybe they can experiment dumping the excess plastic on a planet that is closer to the sun to see what happens to tons of melted plastic. Use George Bush's theory, that it's better to kill them over there than to kill people here, plus you'll be freeing up valuable land that's currently being used to store our refuse and waste. Just think, we could have all our wasted plastics be shuttled to Mercury, all our wasted batteries to Mars, maybe our broken or outdated TV screens and computer monitors to Saturn. If we're going to continue to spend exorbitantly on the space program, we should be maximizing the space on board the shuttle to get a better return on our investment. Isn't that the good old American way?
10.14.2005
Junk Mail
"It's mostly bills, magazines and junk mail, anyway."
"Elaine, that's what mail *is*. Without bills, magazines
and junk mail, there *is* no mail."
- Elaine and Jerry, in "The Visa"
This little give and take from a Seinfeld episode makes me think of how over the years my outlook on receiving mail has changed. When I was young, getting an envelope addressed to me made me feel like an adult. It made me feel important and it also cheered me up. A lot of the mail I received back then was in the form of invitations to parties or some form of special occasion card, in celebration of Christmas or a birthday. These special occasion cards would at times even have currency tucked in the middle of them. Receiving mail, in general, was a wonderful experience.
Things started to change as I grew older. I looked forward to receiving mail only when I expected a check or something I ordered from a store. These anticipated events only occurred once or twice a month, so for the remainder of the month, I wouldn’t care if the mail never came. Sometimes I wished that some things would get lost, especially some of the bills which seemed to be multiplying with each passing year and life changing event.
Picking up and opening my mail each day, except Sundays and holidays, suddenly became a not so wonderful experience. Mail came addressed to me as Mr., Mr. And Mrs., Resident, Occupant, Postal Patron, Postal Customer and once in a while they would even try to slip me somebody else’s mail. Things that were put in my mailbox consisted of bills and solicitations to buy things that would only add to the bills that I was already receiving. This type of mail came on time like clockwork. I didn’t need a calendar because I knew that when I got my phone bill it was the 15th of the month, the gas bill came on the 20th, my mortgage payment was on the 1st and so on it went with the others. I never had one bill get lost in all my life – that’s quite a track record for the Post Office; they’re almost as good as the IRS.
It got so that the trip to the mailbox would get me depressed. Thankfully, I was spared of bills on Monday. The Post Office must have known that delivering bills on Monday, the first day of the week for many, would just add to the depression of having to go back to work. On Monday, the Post Office would inundate you with “junk mail.” A lot of companies would use the mail carrier as if they were their own salesperson. The solicitations to buy things were endless and knowing that many people would just throw away this mail, the companies would try tricking you into opening this type of mail by making it look like it was something of importance. Some even told you that you had won a prize. What the recipient was not aware of was they were one of hundreds of thousands of other people that received the same letter and were also “winners.”
The true winners were the companies because if they got just one person out of one hundred to respond they would recoup the money they invested in mailing costs. Since it cost them only a fraction of what the average person paid for postage, they would not stop at one mailing or one attempt to lure you to purchase their product. It was an annoyance to get this stuff and just throw it away.
Over time the term “junk mail” was changed to a more respectable name, Bulk Business Mail. I guess this was to give it greater appeal, much like retarded was changed to handicapped or Post Office changed to Postal Service. To me you could have called it anything but its still nuisance mail that has to be thrown out. How many more blank checks are credit companies going to send to me? I wish I could send them back without costing me anything. They have forced me to buy a shredder because of the threat of identity theft.
They have recently instituted a Do Not Call list for telemarketers, which has been a God send. My next wish is either for a Do Not Mail list for the nuisance mail or that the Postal Service makes these companies pay the same price as I pay for to mail a letter
"Elaine, that's what mail *is*. Without bills, magazines
and junk mail, there *is* no mail."
- Elaine and Jerry, in "The Visa"
This little give and take from a Seinfeld episode makes me think of how over the years my outlook on receiving mail has changed. When I was young, getting an envelope addressed to me made me feel like an adult. It made me feel important and it also cheered me up. A lot of the mail I received back then was in the form of invitations to parties or some form of special occasion card, in celebration of Christmas or a birthday. These special occasion cards would at times even have currency tucked in the middle of them. Receiving mail, in general, was a wonderful experience.
Things started to change as I grew older. I looked forward to receiving mail only when I expected a check or something I ordered from a store. These anticipated events only occurred once or twice a month, so for the remainder of the month, I wouldn’t care if the mail never came. Sometimes I wished that some things would get lost, especially some of the bills which seemed to be multiplying with each passing year and life changing event.
Picking up and opening my mail each day, except Sundays and holidays, suddenly became a not so wonderful experience. Mail came addressed to me as Mr., Mr. And Mrs., Resident, Occupant, Postal Patron, Postal Customer and once in a while they would even try to slip me somebody else’s mail. Things that were put in my mailbox consisted of bills and solicitations to buy things that would only add to the bills that I was already receiving. This type of mail came on time like clockwork. I didn’t need a calendar because I knew that when I got my phone bill it was the 15th of the month, the gas bill came on the 20th, my mortgage payment was on the 1st and so on it went with the others. I never had one bill get lost in all my life – that’s quite a track record for the Post Office; they’re almost as good as the IRS.
It got so that the trip to the mailbox would get me depressed. Thankfully, I was spared of bills on Monday. The Post Office must have known that delivering bills on Monday, the first day of the week for many, would just add to the depression of having to go back to work. On Monday, the Post Office would inundate you with “junk mail.” A lot of companies would use the mail carrier as if they were their own salesperson. The solicitations to buy things were endless and knowing that many people would just throw away this mail, the companies would try tricking you into opening this type of mail by making it look like it was something of importance. Some even told you that you had won a prize. What the recipient was not aware of was they were one of hundreds of thousands of other people that received the same letter and were also “winners.”
The true winners were the companies because if they got just one person out of one hundred to respond they would recoup the money they invested in mailing costs. Since it cost them only a fraction of what the average person paid for postage, they would not stop at one mailing or one attempt to lure you to purchase their product. It was an annoyance to get this stuff and just throw it away.
Over time the term “junk mail” was changed to a more respectable name, Bulk Business Mail. I guess this was to give it greater appeal, much like retarded was changed to handicapped or Post Office changed to Postal Service. To me you could have called it anything but its still nuisance mail that has to be thrown out. How many more blank checks are credit companies going to send to me? I wish I could send them back without costing me anything. They have forced me to buy a shredder because of the threat of identity theft.
They have recently instituted a Do Not Call list for telemarketers, which has been a God send. My next wish is either for a Do Not Mail list for the nuisance mail or that the Postal Service makes these companies pay the same price as I pay for to mail a letter
10.13.2005
A Quick Wit
A Catholic priest was talking to his friend the rabbi: “You don’t know what you’re missing by not eating bacon. Why would God have created something so delicious if He didn’t want people to enjoy it? When are you finally going to break down and try some?”
Rabbi: “At your wedding, Father.”
Groucho Marx hosted a TV show called “You Bet Your Life” – here are some examples of his quick witted humor:
Groucho probably was not aware of everything he was saying when a “You Bet Your Life” contestant stated she had thirteen children and could explain it only by proclaiming, “I love my husband!” “I like my cigar too”, said Groucho, “but I take it out once in a while.”
When a middle-aged teacher came on his quiz show and claimed she was “approaching forty,” Groucho asked her, “from which direction?”
Once a clergyman came on his television show glowing and declared, “Groucho, I want to thank you for all the enjoyment you have given the world.” Groucho shot right back, “And I want to thank you for all the enjoyment you’ve taken out of it.”
ITAM Baseball Managers
Major League baseball had four managers of Italian descent in 2005 and will add at least one more (Sam Perlozzo) for the 2006 season. These four managers have been very successful, leading their teams to post season play:
Terry Francona Red Sox 95 - 67
Mike Scioscia Angels 95 - 67
Joe Torre Yankees 95 - 67
Tony La Russa Cardinals 100 - 62
Sam Perlozzo
Two are ex catchers (Torre and Scioscia), one a outfielder/first baseman (Francona) and the other an infielder (LaRussa).
LaRussa has led his teams to win four pennants and one World Series. He has been selected as the Manager of the Year four times.
Joe Torre’s teams have won seven pennants and four World Series. He was selected Manager of the Year four times.
Nike Scioscia’s teams have won one pennant and one World Series and he was named Manager of the Year once, in 2002.
Terry, a rather newcomer to the group has won one World Series.
This group has accomplished so much and who knows one of them might lead their team to the 2005 World Series (Scioscia and LaRussa are still in the running)
My hats off to them as we celebrate Italian-American Heritage month.
Terry Francona Red Sox 95 - 67
Mike Scioscia Angels 95 - 67
Joe Torre Yankees 95 - 67
Tony La Russa Cardinals 100 - 62
Sam Perlozzo
Two are ex catchers (Torre and Scioscia), one a outfielder/first baseman (Francona) and the other an infielder (LaRussa).
LaRussa has led his teams to win four pennants and one World Series. He has been selected as the Manager of the Year four times.
Joe Torre’s teams have won seven pennants and four World Series. He was selected Manager of the Year four times.
Nike Scioscia’s teams have won one pennant and one World Series and he was named Manager of the Year once, in 2002.
Terry, a rather newcomer to the group has won one World Series.
This group has accomplished so much and who knows one of them might lead their team to the 2005 World Series (Scioscia and LaRussa are still in the running)
My hats off to them as we celebrate Italian-American Heritage month.
10.11.2005
Late Night Rowdiness in North End
''I have never seen anyone out of control. This is Boston. Everyone drinks."
This is a quote, from a young woman professional currently living in the North End, from a story in today’s Boston Globe about the late night rowdiness that is disturbing some of the long time locals.
The comment that this is Boston and everyone drinks says a lot about the mentality and demeanor of some of the yuppies. This is not coming out of the mouth of a teenager but from the heart and soul of a 26 year old woman accountant.
Does she realize that the area she lives in now, used to be the landing ground for many of yesterdays’ poor immigrants. The English, Irish, Jews and lastly Italians have made this area their very first home in America. This along with Southie was one of the last places to see the breakup of family life, a place where people respected each other, a place where like a famous sitcom says, “everyone knows your name.”
This was and probably still is a neighborhood where one can walk around at all hours and feel relatively safe as long as you mind your business.
I wonder if this woman realizes when she says that this is Boston and everyone drinks that everyone did drink when I was living there. Part of the Italian culture is to present and afford to anyone sitting with you at table a glass or two of wine with your meal. You don’t have to be 16 or 18 or 21 years old to drink alcohol in a traditional Italian family. I remember as a toddler (2 to three years old) being introduced to Marsala, a sweet wine used for cooking. My mom used to put about an ounce of it in a fresh beaten egg which I would have each morning. Imagine doing this today. Someone would probably report you to the Department of Social Services (DSS) as an irresponsible parent. What a way to jump start your day especially when I faced the long walk to school. On cold mornings, I could feel the Marsala radiating that internal warmth that no extra item of clothing could provide. It was a crude version of today’s eggnog.
Everyone did drink. Most times it was at home in accompaniment of meals and not simply to get drunk. Having exposure to liquor at an early age and having your parents not making it a taboo fostered a sense of respect for alcohol.
Yes, I admit that as teenagers we would sometimes get together and drink beer on weekends and would have to be disbanded by the local cop on the beat. But I never remember disturbing people at 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning.
If we did something like that we would soon feel the pain from a swift boot to the ass and/or a couple of good backhanders to the face, and that was from your grandmother, never mind what your father and mother would do. Now your new neighbors live by themselves and have no respect for you and your family.
One beer company has incorporated “drink responsibly” as part of their ad campaign. That’s like telling a young sixteen year old driver “be careful” as you hand him the keys to your Ford Explorer. Canta, Canta (sing, sing) he says to himself as he leaves to pick up his friends. You just pray to God that He sends all the guardian angels to watch over them.
This is a quote, from a young woman professional currently living in the North End, from a story in today’s Boston Globe about the late night rowdiness that is disturbing some of the long time locals.
The comment that this is Boston and everyone drinks says a lot about the mentality and demeanor of some of the yuppies. This is not coming out of the mouth of a teenager but from the heart and soul of a 26 year old woman accountant.
Does she realize that the area she lives in now, used to be the landing ground for many of yesterdays’ poor immigrants. The English, Irish, Jews and lastly Italians have made this area their very first home in America. This along with Southie was one of the last places to see the breakup of family life, a place where people respected each other, a place where like a famous sitcom says, “everyone knows your name.”
This was and probably still is a neighborhood where one can walk around at all hours and feel relatively safe as long as you mind your business.
I wonder if this woman realizes when she says that this is Boston and everyone drinks that everyone did drink when I was living there. Part of the Italian culture is to present and afford to anyone sitting with you at table a glass or two of wine with your meal. You don’t have to be 16 or 18 or 21 years old to drink alcohol in a traditional Italian family. I remember as a toddler (2 to three years old) being introduced to Marsala, a sweet wine used for cooking. My mom used to put about an ounce of it in a fresh beaten egg which I would have each morning. Imagine doing this today. Someone would probably report you to the Department of Social Services (DSS) as an irresponsible parent. What a way to jump start your day especially when I faced the long walk to school. On cold mornings, I could feel the Marsala radiating that internal warmth that no extra item of clothing could provide. It was a crude version of today’s eggnog.
Everyone did drink. Most times it was at home in accompaniment of meals and not simply to get drunk. Having exposure to liquor at an early age and having your parents not making it a taboo fostered a sense of respect for alcohol.
Yes, I admit that as teenagers we would sometimes get together and drink beer on weekends and would have to be disbanded by the local cop on the beat. But I never remember disturbing people at 2 or 3 o’clock in the morning.
If we did something like that we would soon feel the pain from a swift boot to the ass and/or a couple of good backhanders to the face, and that was from your grandmother, never mind what your father and mother would do. Now your new neighbors live by themselves and have no respect for you and your family.
One beer company has incorporated “drink responsibly” as part of their ad campaign. That’s like telling a young sixteen year old driver “be careful” as you hand him the keys to your Ford Explorer. Canta, Canta (sing, sing) he says to himself as he leaves to pick up his friends. You just pray to God that He sends all the guardian angels to watch over them.
10.10.2005
The Dowry System
Just recently I was leafing through a publication that’s put out by the Vatican called ONE and an article on the dowry system caught my eye. I thought that this custom was all but extinct but found out differently.
Under the dowry system, a bride’s family is expected to pay money or give property to the groom’s family (payment details are negotiated by the families). In areas such as Kerala, which has the highest unemployment rate (about 50%) of any Indian state, dowries can be especially burdensome.
Brides whose families cannot pay a sufficient dowry face more than the breakup of a marriage. Husbands have been known to abuse their wives in such situations and in many cases will be burnt to death - the so called ‘kitchen deaths’, or forced to commit suicide.
Each year there are about 5,000 reported dowry deaths in the country, according to India’s National Crime Bureau. The International Society Against Dowry and Bride Burning claim that figure is probably 5 times higher. The husbands who commit the crimes are rarely punished.
Under the dowry system, a bride’s family is expected to pay money or give property to the groom’s family (payment details are negotiated by the families). In areas such as Kerala, which has the highest unemployment rate (about 50%) of any Indian state, dowries can be especially burdensome.
Brides whose families cannot pay a sufficient dowry face more than the breakup of a marriage. Husbands have been known to abuse their wives in such situations and in many cases will be burnt to death - the so called ‘kitchen deaths’, or forced to commit suicide.
Each year there are about 5,000 reported dowry deaths in the country, according to India’s National Crime Bureau. The International Society Against Dowry and Bride Burning claim that figure is probably 5 times higher. The husbands who commit the crimes are rarely punished.
10.08.2005
Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey-ey, goodbye
Na na na na, na na na na, hey hey-ey, goodbye
This is what they're singing in Chicago today in celebration of sweeping the other Sox (red) in three straight. Congratulations to the White Sox who haven't won World Series since 1917, an 88 year drought. Congratulations to a team that's been labeled as playing "small ball". They showed that they can play not only small ball but also long ball, smart ball, and any other type of ball that it takes to win.
The Chicago White Sox with a payroll of $75,178,000, the lowest of the teams in post season competition, have swept the Red Sox who have a payroll of almost $50 million more ($123,505,125). Given this fact, one can say that the White Sox also play “frugal ball.”
Down 0 -2 in games, the Red Sox Yahoos were still clinging to the hope that their team, with one of the worst pitching staffs in the league, would somehow come back to win three straight. Red Sox nation was expecting their beloved knuckleballer, Tim Wakefield, to mesmerize the opponents. They were looking ahead and hoping to catch a break in having Saturday’s game rained out, that way Boomer Wells could get one additional day of rest and come back to pitch game 5. With all the wishful thinking they were never able to put their 2004 hero with the bloody sox (Curt the Magnificent) on the mound.
The lovable idiots of a year ago were too fat and complacent. Outside of the much maligned Manny and the underpaid Papi, no one else could muster anything against one of the better pitching staffs in the league. With the bases loaded and nobody out, an ex Yankee was summoned to put the final stake through the heart of Red Sox nation. El Duque, the crafty old Cuban, got Varitek to pop out and Graffanino to ground out and then got the biggest idiot, Johnny (my mother can throw farther than him) Damon, to swing at ball four and strike out.
Right after the game, with the dead body of the Red Sox not even cooled off yet, Johnny (don’t you just love me) Damon had the following to say to a reporter; "I think I'm the big guy they need to try to sign," said Damon. "I know the players are pushing for me to come back. [We'll] just have to see. I'm looking for five-plus [years]. We know what Manny and David can do, but I make them look good. And they make me look good."
If it was up to me Johnny, you and Millar would definitely be packing your bags. I think it’s time to bring some of the young blood up from the minors and see how far they can take the nation. This off-season will prove to be more interesting. You know that the ownership will pare their payroll and probably increase ticket prices again knowing that the Yahoos will gladly open their wallets and pocketbooks for a chance to be seen at Fenway Pahk with the Rem Dawg.
My heart breaks for the WEEI staff and all the other freeloaders that they are not going to be able to travel to the next two series’ towns. They can now spend most of their time bad mouthing a few of their pet players (Manny and Foulke) in hopes of running them out of town.
With the elimination of the Red Sox, the City of Champions bus has just gotten a flat tire. I hope that the other three tires, Patriots, Celtics and Bruins don’t spring a leak before we get a chance to put on the spare.
That just reminded me - we don’t need a glass man (Dennis Drinkwater) behind the plate at all the Sox home games, we need a tire man. Wait ‘til next year can be sung again.
10.06.2005
Let Mikey Try It
The Food and Drug Administration is expected to rule soon that milk from cloned animals and meat from their offspring are safe to eat, raising the question of whether Americans are ready to welcome one of modern biology's most controversial achievements to the dinner table.
This is the lead paragraph from a story in the Washington Post about clone-generated milk and meat possibly coming into the marketplace soon. If they’re talking about it, you know it’s bound to happen, especially when you find out that it’s cheaper (clones nowadays can cost as little as $6,000 apiece, far less than it would cost to buy the finest boars) to produce than the standard natural product.
The claim is that there is little concern for food-safety and studies have shown that milk and meat from clones can’t be distinguished from that of normal animals. However, a survey done earlier this year by the International Food Information Council whether people would willingly buy meat, milk and eggs that come from clones if the FDA declared them to be safe, 63 percent of consumers said no. Count me in as part of the 63 %, because I don’t believe that we should mess around with Mother Nature.
As it stands right now, the FDA is not going to require labels on cloned products. That’s great! How is a consumer going to distinguish one from the other? The overseas market has hinted at rejecting American products due to the cloning issue. Unless the consumer in this country rises up and rejects these products, you will soon be eating Velveeta made from cloned milk.
Count me out. I’ll have my wine with imported cheese and I’ll gladly leave the bioengineered food to the lovers of breast implants, hair implants, tummy tucks, tush lifts, face lifts and all the other assorted faux products they embrace. It is fitting that phony people should consume phony food.
This is the lead paragraph from a story in the Washington Post about clone-generated milk and meat possibly coming into the marketplace soon. If they’re talking about it, you know it’s bound to happen, especially when you find out that it’s cheaper (clones nowadays can cost as little as $6,000 apiece, far less than it would cost to buy the finest boars) to produce than the standard natural product.
The claim is that there is little concern for food-safety and studies have shown that milk and meat from clones can’t be distinguished from that of normal animals. However, a survey done earlier this year by the International Food Information Council whether people would willingly buy meat, milk and eggs that come from clones if the FDA declared them to be safe, 63 percent of consumers said no. Count me in as part of the 63 %, because I don’t believe that we should mess around with Mother Nature.
As it stands right now, the FDA is not going to require labels on cloned products. That’s great! How is a consumer going to distinguish one from the other? The overseas market has hinted at rejecting American products due to the cloning issue. Unless the consumer in this country rises up and rejects these products, you will soon be eating Velveeta made from cloned milk.
Count me out. I’ll have my wine with imported cheese and I’ll gladly leave the bioengineered food to the lovers of breast implants, hair implants, tummy tucks, tush lifts, face lifts and all the other assorted faux products they embrace. It is fitting that phony people should consume phony food.
10.05.2005
Odds & Ends
Commenting on a parade of New York’s municipal workers, Will Rogers remarked: “And did you notice that the street sweepers followed right behind the politicians?”
DISCUSSION: An argument where you just keep talking and you don’t throw anything
At least the groom at a “shotgun wedding” never wonders “why he ever married” his wife.
Don’t condemn old things, just because they’re old. Firemen’s poles were first used in 1878, and no one yet has found a better way for firemen to get downstairs in a hurry.
If you treat people right they will treat you right – ninety percent of the time.
Did you know that the John Hancock Building (building in forefront of picture above) at 495 feet was the second tallest structure when it opened on September 29, 1949?
It has an eight thousand watt light at the top with a beacon that signals the weather forecast.
Steady blue - clear view
Flashing blue - clouds due
Steady red - rain ahead
Flashing Red - snow instead
If it’s flashing red in the summer, it means the Red Sox game has been postponed.
10.04.2005
Il Poverello
O how beautiful, how splendid, how glorious did he appear in the innocence of his life, in the simplicity of his words, in the purity of his heart, in his love for God, in his fraternal charity, in his ardent obedience, in his peaceful submission, in his angelic countenance! - Thomas of Celano
These words written by Thomas of Celano described the one and only Francesco Bernardone, better known as St. Francis of Assisi. Thomas, a follower of St. Francis, was his first biographer.
Raised in wealth and luxury, Francis spent much of his youth seeking pleasure. He eventually turned his back on everything to embrace God, live a life of poverty, and serve lepers and the lowly. If Francis were alive today, he would probably be thought of as some sort of kook or fanatic and maybe even mentally unstable.
The people of Assisi and his parents couldn’t understand why someone would trade his fashionable clothes for the rags of a beggar. They couldn’t fathom why a playboy was hanging out with lepers. They thought he lost his mind.
Francis’ conversion had empowered and inflamed him with a burning love for God. One day after hearing the gospel story of Christ sending his disciples to preach, he asked the priest to clarify the gospel. When he heard that Christ’s disciples were supposed to possess neither gold, nor silver, nor money; were to have neither bread nor staff; were to have neither shoes nor two tunics; but were to preach the kingdom of God and penance, he said, “This is what I want! This is what I’m looking for! This is what I want to do from the bottom of my heart!”
The infectious, passionate, concrete faith of Francis soon ignited a movement throughout Europe and the rest of the world. Today, there are more than one hundred thousand Franciscans in North America, as well as more than a million others worldwide. These followers of Francis make up the largest order in the Catholic Church.
Down through the ages, many people have sought to follow his example in their lives, including King Louis IX of France, the poet Dante, Michelangelo, Arlo Guthrie, Michael Faraday, Roger Bacon and numerous theologians.
Today, October 4, we celebrate his feastday.
Justice?
The man accused of killing 14-year-old Mathew Brown in an alleged hit-and-run Saturday night had lost his license three times, once for driving while under the influence of alcohol and twice for speeding four times in one year, according to his record with the Registry of Motor Vehicles.
This was the lead paragraph in a story in today’s Boston Globe. When I originally read the story and how the person driving the car fled the scene, I couldn’t help but think why. Why did the person run away? Did he have something to hide or did they just panic and flee? How would I have acted under similar circumstances? How would my sons have acted, God forbid should they have found themselves in a similar condition?
It’s easy to say that I would have stopped. Sometimes we make the wrong decisions, especially in times of stress. Panic sets in and we avoid taking responsibility. Chances are that one would tend to choose to flee if they have a track record of wrongdoings – if they have something to hide. My heart starts pounding at the near miss of hitting a squirrel and I hope that I never have to face what this person is dealing with – hitting and killing another human being.
My outrage is not at the present event because I don’t have all the facts to pass judgment – I leave that up to the Lord, who will eventually judge us all, but at the driver’s past record. If the facts are correct, this person had lost his license three times, once for DUI and twice for speeding four times in one year. Given his track record, his vehicle was just as deadly as carrying a loaded gun – it was a deadly weapon.
My outrage is the inconsistent interpretation of the law. I’m still somewhat bitter at having to give up my license for one year because I was honest enough to report upon my license renewal that I had suffered a seizure the previous year. While I was not able to drive, thousands who were stopped and cited for DUI were allowed to maintain their license. Who was more dangerous, the person who was under medical care and was taking medication that kept them seizure free or the person that was out getting sloshed two or three times a week and then getting behind the wheel of a car?
People make the lame argument that if you take a vehicle away from a person, you take away his livelihood. Sorry, I did it for a year and I survived. Maybe that’s what it’s going to take for irresponsible people to wake up. If this was done in this instance think of how many lives would have been spared grieving over the loss of such a young life.
By the way, even after I was allowed to drive, I had to provide a medical report to the Registry every three months for a period of two years stating that I was seen by a neurologist and that I was medically cleared to drive. If I had to do this, why do others get away without being held accountable?
My prayers are with the family of Mathew Brown and also with the alleged hit and run driver. I don’t know how one goes forward carrying this tremendous weight.
This was the lead paragraph in a story in today’s Boston Globe. When I originally read the story and how the person driving the car fled the scene, I couldn’t help but think why. Why did the person run away? Did he have something to hide or did they just panic and flee? How would I have acted under similar circumstances? How would my sons have acted, God forbid should they have found themselves in a similar condition?
It’s easy to say that I would have stopped. Sometimes we make the wrong decisions, especially in times of stress. Panic sets in and we avoid taking responsibility. Chances are that one would tend to choose to flee if they have a track record of wrongdoings – if they have something to hide. My heart starts pounding at the near miss of hitting a squirrel and I hope that I never have to face what this person is dealing with – hitting and killing another human being.
My outrage is not at the present event because I don’t have all the facts to pass judgment – I leave that up to the Lord, who will eventually judge us all, but at the driver’s past record. If the facts are correct, this person had lost his license three times, once for DUI and twice for speeding four times in one year. Given his track record, his vehicle was just as deadly as carrying a loaded gun – it was a deadly weapon.
My outrage is the inconsistent interpretation of the law. I’m still somewhat bitter at having to give up my license for one year because I was honest enough to report upon my license renewal that I had suffered a seizure the previous year. While I was not able to drive, thousands who were stopped and cited for DUI were allowed to maintain their license. Who was more dangerous, the person who was under medical care and was taking medication that kept them seizure free or the person that was out getting sloshed two or three times a week and then getting behind the wheel of a car?
People make the lame argument that if you take a vehicle away from a person, you take away his livelihood. Sorry, I did it for a year and I survived. Maybe that’s what it’s going to take for irresponsible people to wake up. If this was done in this instance think of how many lives would have been spared grieving over the loss of such a young life.
By the way, even after I was allowed to drive, I had to provide a medical report to the Registry every three months for a period of two years stating that I was seen by a neurologist and that I was medically cleared to drive. If I had to do this, why do others get away without being held accountable?
My prayers are with the family of Mathew Brown and also with the alleged hit and run driver. I don’t know how one goes forward carrying this tremendous weight.
10.02.2005
A Different Meaning
Let me start off by saying that I’m not a film buff, but every once in a while I’m overwhelmed at how stories and now I must add films tend to have a different meaning at different stages of my life. It’s interesting to note that looking at things with the eyes of a twenty-old versus the eyes of a sixty year old is extremely different. As a twenty year old your mind is not as cluttered and the filtering process of thoughts and ideas takes very little time. You generally come up with a conclusion based on your life’s experience in a matter of seconds.
Given the same information as a sixty year old, that filtering process is much more refined and it takes much longer to digest what was presented and the end product is very different. I imagine if all your faculties are still sharp at eighty years of age you will probably have another outlook on the same subject or topic.
I’ve recently watched The Bicycle Thief, an Italian film from 1948 – a film that’s almost as old as me. I know I saw this film about thirty years ago, but I remembered very little of it. It must have been boring to me back then. It is a very simple story of life in Italy after World War II. It brings out the stark reality of what people faced each and every day. When I watched it back then, I didn’t realize that this was the same exact time that I was brought up. I now have a better understanding of how poor we were. I didn’t know it back then because that’s how everybody else lived and I thought that was the norm. Not that I’m rich, but my lifestyle now gives me the contrast where I can see the difference. Those are the layers of filtering that build in your mind and your thought process.
The story is simple and it has four characters only one of which is a professional actor. The bicycle, the conduit for this poor soul to earn a living, is stolen on his first day of work. The man seeks along with his son to find the thief. In their search they learn a lot about themselves. The film nevertheless paints a fairly bleak picture of life and also goes further to suggest some of the reasons behind the depressing existence portrayed.
The film does a good job of making you look at the problems presented through the eyes not only of the main character but at least two if not all four. The struggles, the hopes and dreams and the reality of life are served to us in The Bicycle Thief.
10.01.2005
Cliches
Clichés
One meaning of the word cliché (klee-shay) is an overused expression. Nowhere other than in sports are you inundated with so many clichés.
Just picture yourself coming from a foreign country and you are in the process of learning the language. You turn on your TV and start to watch a baseball game. You hear the announcer say, “He took a good cut at that one.” Later on he says, “He hit that one squarely.” Try to explain that to your Indian friend.
Watching the pitcher you hear the following, he’s really throwing some heat, and he took something off that pitch, or he’s got good mechanics. Now I see my friend frantically flipping through his dictionary to try to decipher what’s being said.
As they talk about the teams, my friend tries to make some sense out of, they’ve got great team chemistry, and they’ve been on a roll, or they have a lot of weapons. Chemistry, roll, weapons - my friend has a big question mark on his face.
The losing team is described in the following manner, they’re on the ropes, this could get ugly, and a lot of the faithful are heading towards the exits.
How about when they describe the players – he’s being shopped around, he’s got a bad wheel, or he’s lost a step or two.
Watch any interview with a manager or coach and I’m sure you’ll hear some of the following:
They can’t look past these guys
They need to take one game at a time
They have to stay hungry
They have to play within themselves
The season is a marathon – not a sprint
They can’t look past these guys
After Friday night’s loss to the Red Sox, a Yankee player said "we had a chance to put them away and didn't do it. We let them off the hook."
"He needs to come up big." That’s what Joe Torre, manager of the New York Yankees, expected from his starting pitcher and he did come up big to beat the Red Sox giving rise to a new cliché, Yankees win the American League pennant.
My Indian friend is lagging behind trying to learn the meaning of all these clichés just like the Red Sox are trying to find a way to win a pennant for once.
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