HERE....THERE....NOWHERE....

Here....

2005-02-16T15:40:00.000-05:00

Twenty-five years ago the Olympic torch passed through my town, Saratoga Springs....it passed directly by the "Spirit of Life" sculpture...

...on its way to light the Olympic Flame

... in the Adirondack Mountains at the Lake Placid games.

Shortly afterward, a charter bus came through carrying a band of relatively unknown athletes. They stopped for dinner in nearby Glens Falls. I, along with maybe 50 other well wishers, had dinner with them and tried to give them support. I was too introverted to ask for autographs, but joined in the applause and mumbled greetings of good luck. They sure would need it...they were such underdogs. Little did we known in a few short weeks they would be bringing home the Gold in what has become know as the Miracle on Ice".

Soon afterward, a whole line of athletes came through town from all over the world, people such as Juha Mieto, the giant Finn, and Tomas Wassberg, the Swede, who would battle it out on the nordic ski trails of Mount Van Hoevenbugh.

The last ones to come through were the hordes of international and homegrown tourists. Adirondackers held their breath to see if tiny Lake Placid could handle the surge. A labor dispute between bus drivers and the contracted transportation companies caused a a lot of worry. But to the rescue came the buses and drivers from school districts all around the "North Country" as wwe like to call our region. There were some delays, in the frigid temperatures, waiting for buses to take spectators from Keene up past Cascade Lake and into Lake Placid. That some of the waiting tourists had foolishly not prepared for Adirondack weather made it a bit of a media buzz for a short period.

Knowing of the traffic coming off the interstate, I took the back roads through Blue Mountain, Long,Tupper and Saranac Lakes. I was able to get into the games with maybe a 15 minute wait for the next shuttle bus from Saranac. I had written for tickets over a year earlier. The tix for the nordic skiing were easy to come by....but all I could manage for hockey was the US v. Romania game. But I was there and soaking in all the excitement and fun.

Lost in the shadow of the miracle on ice was one of the greatest nordic races ever...after 15 grueling kilometers Tomas Wassberg edged out Juha Mieto by one hundreth of a second.

The Olympics launched an economic revival of the Lake Placid area and it still hosts many international winter sports events. It is also home to one of the USA Olympic Training facilities and the Ironman USA headquarters. Main street has seen a plethora of kitschy tourist shops however...and the village has lost some of its charm to franchises etc...but still has its wonderful setting.

One of the economic benefits was the myriad of jobs generated in the region. Construction of the Intervale Ski Jumps for example.

I did not know it at the time, but my future brother-in-law was working on those structures,and...initiating its first use. The following tale was confirmed by the brakeman himself, even though they spelled his name wrong....it's Moak!

Each day of the Olympic events, after sunset....

The frozen over Mirror Lake was the scene of the award ceremonies. Fireworks were in order. There even was an untralight airplane as part of the spectacle.

Twenty five years later I can still feel the excitement and pride of little Lake Placid hosting the world! And yes, I definitely know where I was when the USA hockey team defeated the Russian juggernaut...downtown Saratoga Springs was deserted and silent in a cold winter night....but when the game was over the people spilled out on the streets celebrating!!!! It was a joyous night!

2005-02-11T17:22:00.000-05:00

Here....

Saturday, February 5th, was the annual chowderfest in Saratoga Springs. Area restaurants compete for being named the best chowder of the year. All funds raised go to charity. This year the weather cooperated...it was an unusually warm day with a bright sunny sky. This weather brought out a big crowd of people to sample the "chowdah" as the real New Englanders would say.

The different chowders contained all sorts of great seafood...

The fest goers came in all sorts..some with hats

Some as couples,

Some as Crustaceans????

Others were there just to lend a hand ladling out the manna.

Good times and laughs were abundant.

It was like a barrel full of monkeys, or at least one monkey busker.

There was a report that Uncle Fidel had stopped by in his fatigues and ever present stoggie.

In the end the sanitation crew must have been a little overwhelmed and the environmentalists down-hearted at the styrofoam headed to the landfill.

And Brindisi's Restaurant continued the battle with Gaffney's...wresting the title back and being named Best Chowder of Saratoga Springs!

2005-02-11T16:10:00.000-05:00

There....

For the past year I have been uncovering the experience of my Dad's hellish journey through Europe long ago. Sixty years ago, this January, the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment had been assigned a mission to prevent the demolition of the Schwammanauel hydro-electric dam on the Roer River in Germany. The regimental 3rd Battalion was to conduct the raid. H Company was to be the lead company. And 2nd platoon was assigned to be a diversion by running out of the willow trees and across the 200 yard wide and one foot deep river just below the dam. My Dad was the Platoon leader for that diversion. It was considered a suicide mission. This photo below was taken on a railway car in Belgium heading toward the dam which is near Schmidt, Germany. This type of rail car was called a 40 and 8 because it could haul 40 hommes et 8 cheval...40 men and 8 horses.

Before the raid was to take place, it was fortunately cancelled as the 78th Division had captured the dam. Otherwise, I probably would not be writing this blog today. The men in this photo had survived the Normandy night drop, the ill-fated attack on the "Bridge Too Far" in Nijmegen, Holland and the frozen inferno of the Battle of the Bulge in the Ardenne Forest of Belgium. My dad is the one smiling with the sunglasses ...to his left front is Neal Beaver and to his right front is Herb Beattie. When I learn the identity of the other men in the photo I will post them. They should never be forgotten!

2004-12-04T13:54:00.000-05:00

Here....

The first Thursday in December is designated as the "Victorian Walk" in Saratoga Springs. The main street is blocked off for cars and the crowds gather. The Downtown merchants have their shops open and provide free cider and snacks of holiday goodies to the public. The street is decked out in lights and Christmas greens.

Many folks don Victorian garb for a nostalgic stroll downtown.

An assortment of Hats and Gowns can be seen amonst the crowds.

Carollers and Musicians add their merry tunes to the festive night.

Peace is always somehow represented!

And of course their are Santas in various forms and Kids.

And what is Kringle time without a little Kettle Korn?

The opening of Saratoga Art Center's "Winter Solstice" exhibition anchored the southern end of the Broadway walk. There was an amazing piece of art work..."Trees"

It is touchable art and should be "viewed" that way since the artist, Jenny Kowantz, created it by touch rather than by sight.

There....

Awesome panoramic views of the Ukrainian Democracy movement(revolution) thanks to Tubbydev.

And VERONICA KHOKHLOVA provides a good way to get the feel of people literally manning the barricades through her Backlog.

News From Ukraine

2004-11-26T13:09:00.000-05:00

There....

T. in Kiev emailed the following on Friday Nov. 26:

"today I was on our main square, where all people now. It was so exciting! People are extremely polite, helpful to each other. Many people bring food, warm clothes; ask what they can bring more.
I have never seen anything like this in my life before.
I do hope they will come to peaceful conclusion. "

Nowhere....

From Neeka's BackLog comes a great account that I must label as "Truth is Deafening":

"On Channel 1 (UT-1), the main state channel, 237 journalists are on strike now. Today, during the 11 am newscast with live translation into the Sign Language, the translator, Natalya Dmytruk, did not translate what the host was saying about the election results, but said (in Sign Language) the following (quote via Ukrainska Pravda):

"The results from the Central Election Commission have been falsified. Do not believe them. Our President is Yushchenko. I am very disgusted that I was forced to translate the lies until now. I'm not going to do it anymore. I'm not sure if I'll see you again."

The program Dmytruk was translating into Sign Language for is the only news program in Ukraine adapted for people with hearing impairments. The audience is about 100,000 people. Dmytruk has now joined her 237 striking colleagues."

2004-11-17T17:34:00.000-05:00

There....

At the stroke of midnight on the third Thursday of November -- that's tomorrow, November 18th, the new batch, err vintage, of Beaujolais Nouveau will be served to oenophiles all over the world. I like wine a lot and have developed a nice appreciation of a good wine. But some cognoscenti seem to take it a bit too far. A couple of things sort of make me uncomfortable about all the hoopla.

First, there is "winespeak". Now I know people like to describe the complexities of their palate, but often this is taken just too far.

Here.... for example, is a write up which isn't too outrageous:

" The wines are supple and very pleasant, characterized by a good balance between degree and acidity. The attack is good. The tannins are rounded. Besides its lovely sparkling ruby robe, Beaujolais Nouveau this year is fruity, redolent of fresh red fruit like strawberry, blackcurrant and raspberry, to which there is sometimes the addition of violet and peony fragrances. A lip-smacking, pleasure provoking wine."

But please can anyone explain to me what an attack is? Isn't tannin used to make shoe leather? What house of fashion designs robes for wines? When I was a kid we drank a sugary swill that was "fruity, redolent of fresh red fruit like strawberry, blackcurrant and raspberry" we called it red bug juice, but the grocery sold it as Kool-aid.

Nowhere....Not A Drop To Drink

Secondly, I have a problem with pricing. I can see paying a modest amount for a fine wine for a special occasion. But there is a point where I begin to feel edgy and thoughts of the millions of kids who do not have decent clean water to drink encroach on my enjoyment of the wine. And of course there are the infamous urban legends around "Two Buck Chuck".

Hey, deception in advertising and global trade can let us sip, imbibe, quaff or guzzle and without pangs of guilt. So stop by Trader Joes, stock up and put a few drops of your saving into an organization such as WaterAid or Global Water or UNESCO-IHE .

2004-11-09T16:08:00.000-05:00

Seasons....

Every Once in a while you stumble onto a scene that strikes you as one of those moments which delineate a season change. Today's lunchtime walk at the Empire State Plaza was one of those moments. Just ten days ago I was spending a balmy Halloween evening on a sidewalk cafe in South Beach. For sure, the latitude change contributed to the stark change, but the moment caught my attention nonetheless!

The wind was brisk and had a cold bite to it. I had my winter hat and gloves on since the pets' water vessels were all iced over this morning. The wind rattled the few brown and brittle leaves left in the plaza maple trees. The same wind that bit and rattled, formed into little dancing, swirling dervishes of fallen leaves on the cobble stone drives.

Beyond the empty reflecting pools and not yet open ice rink, the season of winter was proclaimed as I glanced up at the Offical New York State Christmas tree. It was naked of its ornaments and I thought rather regal in its natural state. A bit shorter than I remember from past years, perhaps another marker of acid rain or just being an adult child? Also, not sure how I feel about this...but the erecting workers were a prison work release crew. Wonder if it makes them feel good to be putting up a Christmas tree...or does it remind them of family at home for the holidays. Maybe it brings back bad memories of Christmas' past.

I know it is not official winter yet...but now it feels like it....and the ground is now frozen each morning.

2004-11-06T01:11:00.000-05:00

South Beach All Hallow's Eve

While in Florida as an Election Protection volunteer, I was fortunate enough to spend Halloween night on Lincoln Road in South Beach, Miami. This is definitely THE place to be for trick or treating as a spectator sport. Watched the parading costumes from a sidewalk cafe with some great new friends. Only disappointment was all the photo-ops I missed.

Transylanian Waiter, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

Indio Princess, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

Witches of the East, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

Feathered Ghoul, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

2004-11-05T23:37:00.000-05:00

Scenes From An American Election....

As I flew out of upstate New York, I was filled with misgivings and fear of a Bush election victory and a messy election vote count. I was trying to be hopeful and upbeat, but I felt that it would be a very close election.

I arrived in Broward County, Florida the Saturday before the election. I was immediately uplifted when I got to the Election Protection headquarters. The place was filled with volunteers and buzzing like a hive of worker bees. For the next three days I was canvassing voters, erecting election protection posters, handing out voter bill of rights leaflets in an area of grinding poverty (within a few miles of the Ft. Lauderdale Boat Show with their million dollar yachts). Each time I passed a voting place, the long lines of voters participating in early voting encouraged me. They were waiting in line for 3 and 4 hours each day in the broiling sun, 89 humid degrees, with some days 8-hour waits to vote. At a days end press conference my spirits were raised even more when 23 volunteers from the organization Pax Christi were introduced….they were international observers from 14 foreign countries.
I was even more uplifted when all the volunteers gathered for our training on Election Day duties. Originally planned for 400 volunteers, there were 700 of us…from New York, New Jersey, Vermont, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, Maryland, DC, Virginia, North Carolina, South Carolina, Georgia, Illinois, Michigan, Arizona, Oregon, Washington, California, and even as far away as Hawaii and London, England. On election eve I had become less fearful, more hopeful and definitely infected with enthusiasm.

I was up at the crack of dawn on Election Day. Stopped for coffee and doughnuts to share with the other 6 of my election protection team.

6c Volunteer Team, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

We were stationed at precinct 6c in Pompano.

Precinct Sign, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

I was at the polling place at 6:30….there were already 100+ people waiting in line. The polls opened at precisely 7:02. The line actually grew for the first few hours of voting. There were only a few snafus with the voting. People were excited and friendly. There were other poll watchers from the AFL-CIO, from the Kerry-Edwards team, from the NAACP, 3 of the Pax Christi people were there for part of the day. The voting went off without any major problems.

International Observers, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

A Minor Incident....

There was one incident that was really blown all out of proportion. While the portable touchscreen was being brought out to a disabled person in their auto (nice solution for accessibility problems, worked real well all day) a Republican poll monitor reached into the car and snatched a palm card from the voter and ripped it up. Not a very proper thing to do. The contention was that the voter was in the 50-foot zone where such palm cards are not to be distributed. The result was a good punch to the stomach of the Republican poll worker. Also, not a very proper thing to do. Soon the Sheriff Deputy was on the scene. Despite his best efforts and the efforts of the Kerry-Edwards attorney to defuse the situation, the parties of the first part and the parties of the second part wouldn't let this go.

Kerry's Able Lawyer, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

It soon degenerated into a comic skit…good enough for SNL or The Daily Show.

Before long, the Deputy Sheriff, who I dubbed Officer Obie ala Alice's Restaurant fame, was taking notes, calling for back-up, and trying to keep this from blowing up even further. He was very calming and actually did a great job…but I was chuckling all the while thinking of how Arlo would have told the story. (Please indulge me by humming along and hearing Arlo picking his guitar and his run on sentence talking folk song style to get the full effect of this piece) The best part was when the poll workers were attempting to measure out the 50-foot neutral zone with an inadequate measuring tape. Officer O-bie got out the o-fficial, cop approved, auto accident incident reporting, 500 foot measuring tape to determine the e-xact distance in all directions that campaigners and all their official, partisan, biased, propagandizing and usually totally ineffective campaign literature were banned, barred, contraband and highly illegal.

Official Tape Measure, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

He duly marked the distance with an orange cone and gave a stern warning that this was the official no propaganda zone. Officer Obie then proceeded to get the facts, "just the facts ma'am", from all points of view, left to right, attorneys for both sides and carefully scribed them in his official Police memo pad.

Just the Facts, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

At one point 3 deputy sheriffs escorted the poll worker and the portable touchscreen ballot out to another disabled voter just in case some militant campaign worker might try to palm off another card on another unsuspecting voter. The Bush workers carefully eyed the situation from the other side of the 50-foot demilitarized zone. But Officer Obie (whatever his real name is) really was doing a very diplomatic job in what he must have thought of as a ludicrous situation.

This was unlike the 2000 election, which saw major incidents of people denied their right to vote and many people turned away as the polls closed. I left the polling place filled with optimism.

Sunsetting on 6c and Kerry, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

I later arrived at the Kerry-Edwards victory gathering some time after 9:00 pm. Things were looking up, as the news was filled with major turn-outs of voters which usually is good for the democrats. The pinnacle of my hopeful feelings was when Pennsylvania went to Kerry big time. But soon the reports were filled with more and more bad news. Florida fell to Bush and then the long agonizing wait for the Ohio vote began.

The depression was a steady slide down, down, down, Wednesday morning was bad. The Kerry concession speech and Bush victory speech just made it worse. I listened to them in the airport on my way back north to home. I still am reeling of the impact. Every time I think of the future it just is so dark and foreboding. I try to find a silver lining to this storm cloud…to fit with my rose colored glasses view of the world. I can only think of one…that the world is in such awful shape for the next 2 years and beyond…the problems would have been blamed on Kerry…. Now Bush and the Republican congress must shoulder the full responsibility. But this is of little consolation.

I am disheartened, depressed, fearful, disgusted, and shamed. The world must look at Americans as arrogant, idiotic, religious fanatics filled with avarice and fear and revenge.

I can console myself only slightly with the fact that I tried to do something about it …and that more people voted AGAINST a sitting President than at any time in our history.

But I still feel like shit!!!!!!

canteen singers III

2004-11-05T22:36:00.000-05:00

A Final Reunion....

In 1943, the US Army created several Parachute Infantry Regiments. One of these was made famous by the book and HBO series entitled "A Band of Brothers". Another such unit was the 508th Parachute Infantry Regiment. This band of brothers trained together, and fought and suffered and died in Normandy, Holland, Belgium and Germany. For the past 30 years they have held an annual reunion. This past October, they held their "final" reunion as they are all in their 80's and 90's. I heard of this reunion while in Normandy for the 60th anniversary of the D-Day invasion. Members of the 508th and their families were insistent that I must attend this final reunion. They knew I was seeking information about my dad's experiences during the war and they were sure I would meet some of his comrades who could tell me about those days that Dad hardly ever mentioned. See July 10 post

The four-day reunion was a wonderful experience. Emotions were at a high level throughout the events. Spouses, sons, daughters, nieces, nephews, and grandchildren accompanied the veterans.

There were representatives of current paratroopers, and of the Mayors of Ste. Mere Eglise, and several other Norman villages. There were old photos and even some rare film footage that everyone was exchanging and sharing. But most of all there were memoriesâ¦both good and bad. Thoughts of the veterans often drifted off to comrades that were left in European soil for eternity. These men were indeed the greatest of the greatest generation. One must read of the horror and bravery they witnessed and exhibited to truly understand their greatness. A good book to read is "Beyond Valor", the author, Patrick K. O'Donnell was also in attendance at the event.

There was a ceremony in which the Regimental Colors were retired, putting to rest the history of this famed unit. What these brave men endured should never be forgotten. And the horrors of war never forgotten, as to a man these who lived through it tell all who will listen that "war is hell". My dad always made sure that this was know to me, although he never gave any details as to what he had witnessed and endured.

One night was a dinner dance. The room was decked out like a 1940's "Canteen" complete with a 40's swing band and swing dancers from the University of Florida Dance club. Some of the old folks really got into the fun times and memories of those years. All I could keep thinking of was the fun my mom and dad must have been enjoying before Pearl Harbor. My Dad always liked Benny Goodman's music. I could just picture them out on the dance floor. It brought the tears and emotions right out. Especially since after the war, my Dad and mom hardly enjoyed such times again.

canteen singers III, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

Harry dancing on stage, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

canteen performers, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

40's swing dancers II, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

There were any friends made at this reunion, many stories told and heard, and some toasts of Calvados to comrades present and those who were not here but not forgotten.

Neal Beaver and wife toasting with Calvados, originally uploaded by iceemaster.

2004-10-29T23:13:00.000-04:00

There....

I am headed to Ft. Lauderdale tomorrow to be a poll monitor in a precinct in Broward County , Florida. Home of the infamous chads of the 2000 election debacle. I will be volunteering for the organization Election Protection Hope my services are not needed; but I am cynical and expect to be kept busy trying to help people protect their voting rights.

I figure it will be better down there trying to do something about it. Rather than staying home, fretting , and yelling at the televison as the new reports roll in about the voter supression efforts that are being perpetrated on american citizens. Yes, right here in the good ole USA...not some eastern european o central asian state where tyranny reigns!!!!!

Don't forget to vote next tuesday!!! As if you didn't know when.

2004-07-10T10:15:00.000-04:00

I returned to Normandy to take in the events for the 60th anniversary of the Allied invasion of mainland Europe. I was there to retrace some of my dads footsteps and perhaps meet some of his old surviving comrades. A few years ago I finally went through the trunk that held the things that my dad had kept mostly hidden for decades. Sure I had surreptiously rumaged through them as a kid. But I did not know much of their significance. And I knew virtually nothing about my dads experiences during the war. I had heard bits and pieces of story but these also were not fully appreciated by a kid. Later I would learn of the true horrors that he witnessed.

My dad rarely talked about war, but he always emphasized that war was hell. But I did not know what he meant at that time. Hollywood still showed war as a game. Much like the American TV shows the Iraqi war today....although today it is more like a video game. But recently I have read some personal accounts of those days and have begun to understand his meaning of hell. And I finally appreciate his own internal hell that he suffered through for almost 30 years afterward. I have also become aware that he was not alone in his PTSD, his alcoholism, his stays in VA psychiatric wards (including electric shock and insulin shock treatments), and his violent rages.

One can understand the transformation of the attitudes about war by watching first "The Longest Day" and then "Saving private Ryan". The difference is startling. I saw them both in the theater and the other difference for me was viewing the former as a little naive kid and the latter as an adult who had begun reading about the true war experiences. There is a good discussion of these film differences by Stephen Ambrose.

"The Longest Day" is one of two films that I went to the theater with my dad. The other being "Moby Dick" starring Gregory Peck. I was so young at the time I barely remember the film. I only remember one scene...the scene where Red Buttons, playing the role of Pvt. Steele, has his parachute snagged on the steeple of Ste. Mere Eglise. What I did not remember, but have now picked up from seeing the video several times as an adult, is that interspersed with his church landing, are scenes of paratroopers being machined gunned as they float into the square or just as they land. I am sure this was the trigger for what I remember most about that day in the theater long ago with my dad, sister and mom. As Red Buttons slowly floated down, my dad began to fidget...no shake....shake very badly....think of the scene in "Ryan's Daughter" where the village idiot(John Mills) induces the British Lieutenant WWI vet's shell shock....I had never seen this before, it was really wierd to a young kid. Soon, Dad got up and left the theater. My mom quickly followed him. In a few moments she returned and said we had to leave as Dad was not feeling well. When we got to the theater lobby, I saw my father pacing back and forth like a tiger in the zoo. He did not seem aware of anything around him. My mom grabbed his arm and we quickly exited. I do not recall anything about the ride home or afterward but that incident is seared into my memory so well I can see it, hear it, smell it and feel it like it was yesterday. I also learned later that my Dad told my uncle Tom that when he landed in Normandy, his comrades were being shot out of the sky. Of the 15 men who jumped from his plane that night only he and his platoon sergeant survived to return to England.

These are the demons that I returned to Normandy to try to understand and hopefully put to rest. And to help remember my father in a more honorable way.

Here is St Mere Eglise on June 5, 2004

Ste Mere Eglise

This peaceful scene was a murderous flooded swamp where many men of the 508th Parachute Infantry met there watery or bloody death 60 years ago.

This small bridge at the Village of Chef Du Pont had dead American paratroopers and German defenders "stacked up like cordword for 100's of yards on either side" as one old vet sadly reminisced.

Le Merderet at Chef du Pont

On June 4th I watched a film at the Amfretville community center on the events of 60 years ago. This small village was the epicenter of the scattered landings of the 508th. After the film I engaged several peolple in conversations about my trip and my dad. I shared one of his treasures that he had secreted away for decades...an original copy of the October 1945 Regimental anniversary magazine. Several of the people had never scene this before. They invited me to come the next day with them to the corremorative airdrop in nearby fields. I graciously accepted this invitation and was directed how to take back roads to the same community center the next day to avoid traffic and police barricades.

On June 5th, I drove from my lodging

Hotel Belaire Normandy
on the Contentin coast (on the coast facing the Jersey, Guernsey, Alderney and Sark islands)

Norman Coast toward Channel Isles
through the narrow hedgerow lined lanes.

Norman Back Roads

Along the entire backroad route farmhouse after farmhouse was flying American, British and French flags. There was no commercial or tourist value to these flags as no one would be going down these roads but french farmers...these were flags of respect and gratitude....there were even a few signs in English saying "thank you liberators". That morning drive helped banish some demons. I began to see my dad in a different light and a different time. Not the broken shell that I had grown up with.

At the community center, I met up with Phillipe who was to drive me to a good spot to view the airdrop of todays paratroopers. Phillipe was in full dress uniform of the French Marines. Little did I know the day before that I would be escorted by him through the police barricades to an area set up with a tent for many returning vets of the 507th Parachute Infantry Regiment. He had a hand written document which got us through all the gendarmerie...my french is elemental but I was surprised to see the note was titled "Laissez d'Affaires". We chatted as we slowly moved through the narrow lanes. Interesting that Phillipe had been the Military liaison at the French Embassy in Helsinki. It was a delightful little trip. The going was slow as multitudes of people were all over the streets heading for the observation points. I was amazed at entire families that were turning out and walking miles to get the site...while I rode in a Toyota pickup feeling guilty for my escorted ride. At last we arrived in the viewing area that was already occupied by vets of the 507th regiment and their families. Phillipe introduced me as a son of a 508th vet and I was warmly greeted. I was introduced to Jack Schlegel who was a 508th vet but did not know my dad. As fate would have it, he is also a New Yorker from the Hudson Valley not far from my home. He shared some amazing stories. Most of which I had read about on various websites. Jack was and still is quite a character. He relished in being interview by the French TV crew.

Jack Schlegel

It was interesting talking to several of the other vets and their families. They all made me feel very welcome. Then it was time for the airdrop which lasted all afternoon. In my rush not to be late for the occasion I had failed to put on sunscreen and forgot a hat, so looking skyward on a bright and sunny Normandy June day resulted in the worst sunburn since my childhood. I did not notice until it was too late.

As the jumpers filled the sky I tried to imagine the fear of a night jump where the sky was filled not with bright sun but with explosions and tracer bullets....sent with intentions to kill! Reading the first person accounts gives me a small understanding of that fear...but I know I cannot really appreciate how that fear is seared into a mind.

60th Anniversary Jump

Current 507th landings
Afterward, members of the current 507th who had just jumped march over to the tent area and joined the old vets for lunch and conversation.

507th Jumpers

I engaged the battalion commander in a small conversation about the history of the unit and some of his experiences. We had both been stationed at Ft. Campbell for a short duration but at different times. When I told him he seemed rather young to have such a command responsibility, he remarked about the youngsters whom he commanded. He said that he was amazed, "to be in charge of 18,19 and 20 year olds who are already, at their young age, veterans of the war in Iraq." It struck me like thunder that to these guys war is not a video game or the TV footage of the war from embedded reporters. I wondered what images have been seared into their minds. How long before the nightmares start. How are combat vets handled now that we know so much more about PTSD? Most of my dads comrades were also of this age. He was older, 31, and I wondered how this might have effected him differently.

Later in the day Phillipe and I reversed course and passed the crowds going home. I had learned that there would be ceremonies the next day at several spots and I decided that I would attend them while President Bush made his ceremonial appearance at Arromanches. Seems he likes this military stuff more now as a Commander in Chief than when he had the chance to really be engaged as a young man. I often wonder what he thinks of these young men who serve under him and how he knows when his time came to serve, he was a SHIRKER.

I then picked up my car and decided to go to Ste Mere Eglise. Surprisingly I was able to get right down there. The village was filled with people including lots of the uniformed paratroopers who had recently jumped. There were lots of older vets and many other young people. I took some photos of the church (see above). And I lit a candle in memory of my dad...just in case it would do any good...and also just to acknowledge and honor him. Walked around a bit and looked over a huge stage/television set that had been erected in the main square. Heard that it would be used by the most popular TV host for a show the next day...June 6th. Then I drove back to my hotel along the same back roads, filled with floods of emotions. It was a GOOD day!

June 6th I awoke with a bad sunburn. I turned on the TV to see if there might be any coverage of the ceremonies where I couldn't attend. Of course there were...both in French and English as the British networks were broadcast from the Channel isles just off the coast from my hotel. It became apparent that there was something missing from the French Broadcast...commercials. I learned that although it was a commercial network that they had decided to broad cast commercial free....and for 12 straight hours no less. The British Vets parading into the ceremonies were quite impressive in mathching navy blazers, gray flannel trousers and berets. And they could still march smartly. On the other had the Yanks were a motley crew who had forgotten how to march ...if they had ever learned. But it was impressive to see these guys remembering their fellow comrades. I turned off the TV when Bush spoke.

I made my way to the Chef du Pont ceremonies, arriving hours before anyone else. I must have mixed up the times....but it gave me a time to read the memorial stones, quietly view the Meredet river and think about the history of the place and of those who had fallen there.

Peaceful Merderet

Chef du Pont Memorial

I retrieved an interesting stone from the shore of the river to bring home as a keepsake. I sat under an empty tent and just absorbed the whole spirit of the place.

Soon vets began to arrive and an honor guard from the 507th.

OB Hill Ceremony Chef du Pont
Dignitaries motored in, the tent was set with cookies and fine wine. There were speechs and presentation from the Mayor of Chef Du Pont, the Mayor of Ste.Mere Eglise, the governor of the LaManche region and relatives of O.B. Hill who recently passed away.

Governor of La Manche, former mayor of Ste Mere Eglise

OB's story is also on the web . He loved the Norman people and chose to have his ashes interred at the Chef du Pont memorial. Tears and pride abounded that day at the little park set aside to remember a terrible time that also was a triumpth over evil.

The next ceremony was for Col. Louis Mendez, my Dad's Battalion Commander.

Ceremony for Colonel Mendez

The Ceremony was held in the Village of Pretot. Another place of ferocious battle and loss of life. It was also a ceremony for American paratrooper Alexander who was injured in his jump and hidden by the school master of Pretot as the village doctor was a Nazi collaborator. He was there to present a signed copy of his book to the village school library. He had spent his life as a school teacher in San Francisco.

Book presentation by Alexander

Met with members of the Mendez family who were very gracious and we had long discussions.

Son of Col. Mendez

I showed them some publications from 1945 that they had never seeen. Included was a story of a couple who were married in Frankfurt at the end of the war. The groom was a 508th paratrooper and the bride a girl he met in Belgium during the Battle of the Bulge. They told stories of Gaby coming to their house on many occasions while they were kids.

The celebration ended in a beautiful spread of wines and champagne, the village hall was filled with flowers and the village residents. Again it was a very moving experience to meet first hand with people who had sacrificed so much. And to see the gratitiude of the Norman people.

On June 7th I stopped at the American cemetary at Omaha Beach. The tv crews were gone, but there were many people remembering loved ones.

Omaha Memorial

I happened upon a group who were playing taps for a family member lost 60 years ago.

normamdy

It is a haunting experience to see row after row after row of white crosses.

Omaha Beach

Omaha Beach

2004-07-01T23:32:00.001-04:00

Here....

The Island of Hiiumaa has many sights to share in photos but what cannot be captured through the lens is the feelings of peace and tranquilty. The sense of time on a geological scale seems to slow everything down and change ones perspective on life. Maybe it is the isolation of the island, 22 km from the mainland. Also this is some of the newest real estate on earth. The island is slowly rising out of the Baltic sea at the rate of 3 mm per year. It first emerged only 8,500 years ago. Just a mere blink of an eye in geologic time. Also, maybe it is the comparison of its present state with its often violent history as conquering tribes...Swedes, Germans, Russians...came marauding from either the east or the west. Or perhaps it is some of the willife that abounds...Elks, red deer, roe deer and wild boars live in the forests. I often found tracks of some type of deer on the sandy beaches.

Beach tracks

# posted by iceemaster : 12:15 AM

There are also foxes, lynxes, martens, and lots of birds including the almost ubiquitous Swan.

Swans on Blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:41 AM

There....

One day I spent touring around the tiny, tiny port of Suuresadama. There were hardly any souls around. But I wandered with my camera taking in the views and the interesting colors and strange shapes of a fishing port. I kept repeating to myself that I had never seen so many shades of blue and the ocean was so blue. The locals were quite perplexed trying to figure out what color the oceans off our American shores are. I think Blue is to Scandinavia as Green is to Ireland. You can hear about it , but until you see it...you really are not aware of its magnificence.

Atop Kopu Light Sea and Sky Blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:40 AM

Steeple Blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:39 AM

blue Sculptures

# posted by iceemaster : 12:38 AM

Myriad Baltic Blues

Glass Blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:34 AM

Port Door Blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:32 AM

Parnu Strand Gray Blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:31 AM

Reflections in an Opel

# posted by iceemaster : 12:29 AM

lonely fisherman Tallinn

# posted by iceemaster : 12:28 AM

Tallinn Old Town

# posted by iceemaster : 12:46 AM

old lighthouse blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:27 AM

Estonian flag blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:21 AM

Old homestead door blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:18 AM

Blue door summer house

# posted by iceemaster : 12:17 AM

What makes Suuresadama a little different is that the port was right next to a Soviet Red Army Base, for obvious reasons.(see photos of watch tower etc in previous post) The entire area was closed to the populace for 50 years. Even the little nearby beach was closed. Families would have to ask permission to go swimming, and it was not often granted.

Rabbitts and Rocks...The Estonian word for what we call "whitecaps" translates as Rabbitts.

# posted by iceemaster : 12:35 AM

The sand was raked every afternoon and in the mornings to inspect for footprints to see if anyone had attempted to leave through this part of the Iron Cutain. It is not far by boat to Finland and Sweden. The lasting effect was to virtually destroy the fishing and shipbuilding industries (and job opportunities) here. 10 years later they have barely begun to revive.

Ship Dock Blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:38 AM

Port Bird

Dry Dock...Blue Cylinders

# posted by iceemaster : 12:16 AM

anchor blue

# posted by iceemaster : 12:12 AM

Iron Jigsaw

# posted by iceemaster : 12:23 AM

Nowhere....

To the west of Tallinn is a beautiful park surrounding the Keil Joa river and falls. The river is large by Estonian standards but a mere creek to americans. The falls are part of an interesting geological formation, an escarpment that rises out of the Baltic and runs along the northern coast of Estonia all the way to the Russian border.

Keila Joa Falls

# posted by iceemaster : 12:21 AM

There is a chain footbridge over the river. Lovers come here to seal their relationships for eternity. They put a lock on the chain links and and then throw the key into the falls. Sort of the opposite of the divorcing partners throwing their wedding rings off the bridge into the roaring Truckee river in Reno.

Lovers Chain

2004-06-30T14:18:00.000-04:00

Here....

Visited a little memorial for the Estonia ferry sinking victims. It is on a wind swept spit of land jutting into the Baltic called Tahkuna. It is the closest land of Estonia to the site of the disaster. Many hundreds were lost on Sept 28, 1994. It really hits you when you realize how many were just little kids asleep on the night crossing. The memorial has a bell with a haunting tone to it and on the bell face are faces of little kids....it brought tears to my eyes...does now just writing about it. The island people of Hiiumaa speak of many spirits who inhabit the woods and boulders and earth of their homeland. I am sure they are correct, I felt a peacefulness there and the presence of something which I can not name. Especially at this memorial which was designed by sculptor Mati Karmin.

A Haunting Face

There....

Later I found out that Mati Karmin was the sculptor of the kissing students in the town square of Tartu, the university city of Estonia.

Tartu Square

Nowhere....

I never felt threatened or in danger while traveling in Estonia. In Tallinn there are signs warning of purse snatchers in the old town. Locals claim that you should be cautious and try not to be too obvious as tourists. They also state that most of the victims are the drunken Finns who are such easy prey. The Finns apparently cannot resist the cheap Saku beer.

Also anything that is poor quality or something that goes wrong is always blamed on the "Soviet times". An example is the Russian Orthodox Church on Hiiumaa...it has been left to further ruin while the Lutheran Churchs are being restored.

Window Ruins

Deteriorating Steeple

Orthodox Ruins

2004-06-29T17:24:00.000-04:00

Here....

For the 60th anniversary of the Normandy invasion, I decided to finally go and retrace the footsteps of my father. I have wanted to try and put to rest some of the demons of my childhood. To learn that the events of sixty years ago had some merit. That something good came out of them....not just my Dad returning with PTSD. So with that as a motivator I flew off to Charles De Gaulle about a week before part of the terminals collapsed. Rented a car, raced out of Paris for the wonderful Norman countryside. The fragrance of all the flowers, and fields of grain and new mown hay was intoxicating.

Norman Countryside

I have been enjoying a small hotel that looks out over the Channel Isles and has a lovely garden in which to read. Really savor the great croissants and cafe in the mornings and fresh seafood from a local restaurant in the evenings.

Hotel Belaire-Normandy

There....

But my reading "In Search of the Elusive Peace Corps Moment" got my adventure side going. This is a story of a peace corps volunteer in Estonia right after the Soviets left. So switched plans, flew to Tallinn and soon was on the island of Hiiumaa in the Baltic.

I have never been to a more quiet , laid back place in my life. It reminds me of Cape Cod without people and few houses. And it is very inexpensive. I have walked and walked and walked some more. The people are friendly and most of the young folks speak a fair english. Most of the time my shy side (INFP) is in the forefront. Been taking lots of photos. If I can get the bloggerbot to work correctly I will post some of them here. The economic plan is for tourism. They are promoting themselves as a "Green" island. The air and water sure is clean. No industry that I can detect.

And they are really promoting internet use. Trying to break the decades of isolation. When I was tryinh to post som of my blathering I noticed that the keyboard has, ö,ä,ü,õ,. My tongue still can't quite get around all those and definitely cannot roll my R in any language

Flowers in a riot of bloom everywhere. Birds in a chorus of song at early light. And I mean early. It is light from 4:30 until 10:30 each day and it was still still 5 more weeks till the Solstice. Heard my first real Cuckoo bird yesterday.

Weather has been good, have had rain two days, but also had sun on those days as well. Still cool, but oh so sunny...got my Irish sun tan going!

The local grocery store sells every type of alcohol there is. Only tried one 75 cent 50 cl Beer so far. Appartently the Finns come over to Tallinn for cheap booze and all night bars. No leftover puritans here. Just left over athiests I think.

Been trying all sorts of fresh salads and other types of veggie things. Lots of root veggies in all different forms. Sampling the deli section starting from the right side. Moving toward the left which I have not quite got the courage for yet....it is stocked with interesting and not so interesting fish and things obviously made from fish. But nothing I recognize yet except some smoked salmon. And the most delicious cream filled pastries that go for about 28 cents.

Nowhere....

One day I wandered around an abondoned Soviet army base.

Abandoned by Red Army

Soviet Remains

Apparently this island was closed to outsiders for 50 years. And the people are really glad to have their independence once again. But are in dire need of jobs. Most young people are leaving the island.

2004-05-03T09:43:00.000-04:00

Here....

Benjamin Barber writes of the connection between "Public Education" and democracy. He states:

"Public education is redundant: To be civilized is to understand the nature of commonality, to be learned is to grasp the rights and responsibilities of liberty, to be educated is comprehend the meaning of citizenship."

and also:

"We cannot do without public schools. A nation of fractious individuals schooled in avoidance ceases to be a nation. A democracy of consumers focused on their private interests ceases to be a democracy. A community of multicultural fragments celebrating only difference ceases to be a community."

Barber's complete article appears in School Administrator.

There....

Bacre Waly N’diaye, whose predictions and recommendations were ignored in Rwanda is now heading up the UN Mission to look into the situation in Darfur. The mission was sent because of horrific human rights abuses in the Western Sudan. You can get more complete information on the situation from Human Rights Watch. The bloody hands of oil are fueling these atrocities.

Ten years ago, the UN and the world, including the USA, ignored the warnings in Rwanda. Many citizens, including myself, did nothing to combat this evil. I have just sent letters to my senators and congressman demanding that my country be forceful in preventing another genocide. This doesn't seem like much but collectively it can make a difference. As has been stated by experts most of these horrors are not unexpected nor unpredictable. See these entries from Dervala that provide insights into "A Problem From Hell".

Elie Weisel wrote "...to remain silent and indifferent is the greatest sin of all...". Please don't let this be on your conscience.

Nowhere....

The following information is reposted with permission from This Is True

"Edward Scouten... At age 16, when attending a Boy Scout camp, Scouten befriended and helped two deaf scouts, which started a lifelong interest in deaf education. He started teaching deaf students at San Francisco State Teachers College and the California School for the Deaf at Berkeley, then earned a master's degree at Gallaudet University in Washington D.C. in 1941. During World War II, he helped set up the first Army Aural Rehabilitation Center, which assisted servicemen deafened during combat. After the war, he taught for 25 years at Gallaudet and other schools for the deaf, and was the author of "Turning Points in the Education of Deaf People", a classic text in the field. He died April 25 in Adamstown, Md. He was 89."

2004-04-28T13:39:00.000-04:00

Here....

Ever thought of where you are and where you want to be in the future?
Would you like to have an email time capsule sent to you in the future? Well here is an opportunity to project where you will be or want to be and have your words come back to haunt you. The exercise in what you want the future to say back to you might be quite revealing. Thanks to my friend Chris downunder for this link.

There....

Sunday is International Freedom of the Press Day. I don't think most of us appreciate the degree of freedom we have here in the USA. Nor how tenuous this freedom is. Nor that some other countries, Canada for example, are considered more free!(slow link but give a try) Nor the risks that journalists are exposed to. Each year Reporters Without Borders raises funds to help imprisoned journalist by publishing a photo album. For just 8 euros you can own a beautiful collection of photos by some of the leading world photographers.

Nowhere....

Sometimes wonder why progress in Human Rights is going virtually Nowhere? How about the old foxes guarding the hen house adage? The extent of the problem is shockingly more than you would imagine! And the trend is in the wrong direction. Also, check out the complete list for our "friends" in the war on terror. I think we might be a tad short-sighted in dealing with this issue!

2004-04-14T12:43:00.000-04:00

Here....

Well, it is almost tax day. Got my taxes done with one day to spare. On the way to work I became enraged....no not road rage! Corporate rage! I was listening to NPR list the major companies that pay no tax. If Enron or 60% of other corps paid just $1 in federal income tax, then my tax bill would be 1,800,000% higher than each of theirs...yes that is 1.8 million percent. But since these tax dead beats do not pay any taxes, the calculations require dividing by zero which is infinity. Therefore my taxes are infinitely higher than Enrons and thousands of other tax cheating corps. Robert Reich (don't you just love to hear his voice) tells us one reason for this insanity. His voice is also one of "Reason"

There....

Yesterday as I listened to the 9/11 hearings and their scathing indictment of the FBI, all I could think of was how this incredibly ineffective agency should be the poster boy for what is wrong with all government at all levels. Anyone who has worked in the civil service can tell you the horror stories, and I am sure could relate to the tale of woe that was being spewed at the hearings. All the symptoms of bad government were laid bare: Reform plans not enacted, unqualified staff, noncommunication between the various "silos" within agencies, political/ideological interference, understaffing, underfunding, non-wave-making-inertia-loving managers, etc. How can we expect anything different?...for decades the civil service and public servants have been under assault...Castigated as do-nothing, know-nothings....over paid, bureaucratic nit wits....the easy scapegoat of every demagogue. Sure government is not efficient but the answer is to replace a poor quality component and improve its efficiency...not attack, attack, attack. The result is the "best and the brightest" have left public service...driven out by frustration. Ask anyone in public service of how it is a thankless job. For years I was ashamed to tell people I was a bureaucrat. But I endured because I knew the good things that government does, and the need for good government. This is what citizens should be demanding...good government, effective, forward thinking, flexible, dynamic, improving, quality public service. Does government make a difference? You bet it does! Take your pick, which of the following is not important: counter-intelligence, preventing terrorism, protecting health, ensuring safe food supplies, catching tax cheats, exposing stock fraud, educating our children, providing social security, protecting the environment or reducing crime? Which of these topics is not a major concern of the public today? Why aren't citizens demanding good government? What we need is a good government movement similar to the turn of the century activists like Teddy Roosevelt. He was a Republican....is this where Sen. John McCain can help bring some sanity back to our politics? Why can't we elect statesmen/women who put the country and the welfare of its people ahead of partisan politics? Is this the sentiment that Howard Dean tapped into?

Nowhere....

Hey, according to the London Science Museum, I got a bisexual brain! What sex is your brain?

2004-04-08T17:00:00.000-04:00

Here....

A new play opens in Queens tomorrow, AUDIT. An interesting way to look at one's life. Conjures up all kinds of rambling questions. What are we worth? What features and attributes are valued by society? And by ourselves? How would I do in a life audit? Wonder what my bottom line would be? And you? God as a bean counter? Know anyone who uses the Enron, Tyco, World Comm approach for life auditing? Would life's "Options" be expensed? Might be a good way to live life's journey....as if leaving a paper trail to be added up somewhere, somehow by someone.

There....

Want to own a real Irish Pub? The price may be more reasonable than you think.

Nowhere....

What's in a name? Maybe more than you can imagine. Check out this name.

I think this sentence is right on the money:

"However, it is difficult for you to materialize your ideals because of a restless, unsettled feeling which causes you never to know just what it is that you should be working toward, and the very intensity of your nature makes systematic concentration and application a challenge. You can have intensely contrasting feelings toward people, either you are fiercely loyal or extremely intolerant."

2004-04-08T02:19:00.000-04:00

Here....

Jen Chapin, daughter of Harry Chapin, has a new album out, Linger. I liked her dad's activism as well as his storytelling style of music like this or this or this. And she is following her dad's activist footsteps. Inner city schoolteacher's gotta have my respect. Kinda like her music too.

There....

Today is the birthday of William Wordsworth. Unlike here, the spring in the UK is abloomin. When I read this poem I think of the fields of daff's in Lancashire or the Pembrokeshire coast surrounding the St. David's cathedral.

DAFFODILS

I wander'd lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host of golden daffodils,
Beside the lake, beneath the trees
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine
And twinkle on the milky way,
They stretched in never-ending line
Along the margin of a bay:
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they
Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:
A poet could not but be gay
In such a jocund company!
I gazed--and gazed--but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought

For oft, when on my couch I lie
In vacant or in pensive mood,
They flash upon that inward eye
Which is the bliss of solitude;
And then my heart with pleasure fills,
And dances with the daffodils.

Nowhere....

Nowhere lady, Condi Rice, is nowhere to be found apologizing for the failure of the government to protect its citizens. Nowhere do I have any faith in her motives. Hell Chevron oil even named an oil tanker after her. Now for cruel treatment of such an upstanding member of Dubya's cabinet...check out Oliphants take on dear Condi.

2004-03-31T00:57:00.000-05:00

Please join a worldwide minute of silence at 12 p.m. local time in every country around the world on April 7 to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the Rwandan Genocide

Here....

On a Sunday of a perfectly clear, blue sky I packed up the digital camera and hopped on the bike for a four hour tour of the Sartoga Spa State Park. The woods and lawns and paths and roads were filled with people, families, roller bladers, walkers, joggers, moms pushing toddlers carriages, dogs, motorcyclists and bikers. Even saw a Donald Trump wannabe puffing on a big fat cubano stoogie and a bimbo on the arm. Others included strolling lovers, whining brats learning to ride bikes, skate boarders, picnicers, frisbee artists, sunbathers and oh yes...photographers. The weather was perfect, and the surroundings of Spa Park were exceptional. Took pics of snow, grass, trees, litter ,signs, earthmovers, tables, buoys, waves, geysers, brooks, swamps, baskets, spring fountains, arches and a memorial. I came across near the end of my journey a little deciduous tree, decorated somewhere between Christmas and Easter. All sorts of decorations...fish, bows, stars...and a card. The plasitc laminated card read:

""
Death is but one step

In a continuous journey.

Our last day does not bring an end,

Only a change.

His love connects us

His spirit Protects us

His memory inspires us

Always Remember……

Louis F. Aversano, Jr.

February 14, 1943-

September 11,2001

There....

Well the meteorological folks didn' like my suggestion of Dubya for the first South Atlantic Hurricane. The Brazilians opted for Catarina. Dubya probably thinks it is a secret al queda weapon of mass destruction rather than the global warming that he does not believe in.

Nowhere....

Letter Fromm America....Today Alistair Cooke passed away. For the last decade of my mom's life she was highly entertained by his hosting of "Masterpeice Theater". She especially enjoyed the series of "Upstairs, Downstairs". Perhaps because her grandmother was an Irish cutlery maid working for Boston bluebloods. Just hearing the theme of the series, "Rondeau from Symphonies & Fanfares For The King's Supper" by J. J. Mouret, brings warm memories flooding back.

2004-03-27T17:25:00.000-05:00

Please join a worldwide minute of silence at 12 p.m. local time in every country around the world on April 7 to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the Rwandan Genocide

Here....

Hey yesterday it reached 72 degrees Fahrenheit...rain last night, fog this morning. Good morning for laundry and various manly chores. Hope the sun breaks out this afternoon. Need sun!!!!

There....

A hurricane has formed in the South Atlantic. Perhaps the first ever. Is this another sign of global warming? The hurricane has not been named yet as there has been no need to create a list of names. I think maybe they should name it Kyoto for the treaty the USA and Bush refuses to sign. And he wonders why the rest of the world looks at us as arrogant!!!! But since this storm has a possibility of wrecking savage destruction on a third world nation...perhaps it should be named Dubya. What name would you suggest?

Nowhere....

Jan Berry of Jan and Dean fame has passed to the big "Deadman's Curve".

2004-03-26T10:51:00.000-05:00

Here....

The temperature today is expected/predicted to reach 68 degrees Fahrenheit. I will play hokey from the office this afternoon. In the backyard at home there is still a covering of snow but it is shrinking daily. In a few days it might be just a "patch" and now looks like a big white tarp covered with the grime that Robert Frost describes in one of my favorite mud season poems:

A Patch of Old Snow

"There's a patch of old snow in a corner
That I should have guessed
Was a blow-away paper the rain
Had brought to rest.

It is speckled with grime as if
Small print overspread it,
The news of a day I've forgotten--
If I ever read it."

There....

Hey, it looks like when Captain Kirk commands, "Beam me up, Scotty", what he really means is "Let's Rock!!!!!!"

Nowhere....

Speaking as chief spokesman for Nowhere men, these princely royalty got it pretty rough wouldn't you think...what a bunch of whining losers. Of course they have a line of Nowhere women waiting to attach themselves to them...even if for just a night!!!

2004-03-23T15:07:00.000-05:00

Here....

Today the Congressional 9/11 Hearings began. It is also the 229th Anniversary of Patrick Henry's famous "Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death" speech given to the Virginia House of Delegates.

It really strikes me as some kind of cosmic connection that the opening of the 9/11 public hearings falls on that anniversary.

Henry's opening two paragraphs dealt with finding the truth, even if the truth is painful. Wouldn't the following be nice to have emanate from our fearless leader's mouth (and heart) at this time in our history:

"No man thinks more highly than I do of the patriotism, as well as abilities, of the very worthy gentlemen who have just addressed the house. But different men often see the same subject in different lights; and, therefore, I hope it will not be thought disrespectful to those gentlemen if, entertaining as I do opinions of a character very opposite to theirs, I shall speak forth my sentiments freely and without reserve. This is no time for ceremony. The question before the house is one of awful moment to this country. For my own part, I consider it as nothing less than a question of freedom or slavery; and in proportion to the magnitude of the subject ought to be the freedom of the debate. It is only in this way that we can hope to arrive at the truth, and fulfill the great responsibility which we hold to God and our country. Should I keep back my opinions at such a time, through fear of giving offense, I should consider myself as guilty of treason towards my country, and of an act of disloyalty toward the Majesty of Heaven, which I revere above all earthly kings.
Mr. President, it is natural to man to indulge in the illusions of hope. We are apt to shut our eyes against a painful truth, and listen to the song of that siren till she transforms us into beasts. Is this the part of wise men, engaged in a great and arduous struggle for liberty? Are we disposed to be of the numbers of those who, having eyes, see not, and, having ears, hear not, the things which so nearly concern their temporal salvation? For my part, whatever anguish of spirit it may cost, I am willing to know the whole truth, to know the worst, and to provide for it."

I think perhaps Richard Clarke may have been adhering to these thoughts when he wrote his book "Against All Enemies: Inside America's War on Terror" . Then again maybe he just wants to sell his book? I think not and hope not!

There....

Sheik Ahmed Yassin, a founder and spiritual leader of Hamas was killed in an Israeli air strike Monday. Hamas has threatened to retaliate against Israel and the United States. I think this bodes of a dark, evil cloud descending upon our nation. Is this the legacy that Bush will leave the American people? Have we lost our way by not following the rule of law and our policy against preemptive strikes and not condemning this act?

Nowhere....

To continue the political slant in today's all politics blog....China is going Nowhere in its march to more democracy. And their treatment of Tibet is even worse!

2004-03-21T21:59:00.000-05:00

Here....

Last fall I consulted my very accurate meteorological consultants of the north woods....the woolly bear caterpillars. These creatures are legendary for their meteorological savant status. True to their purported knowledge the woolly bear caterpillars predicted a cold snowy winter lasting late...with little or no spring. Now do you believe the legend? No don't blame the messenger...rather kudos for being more accurate than the folks at The Weather Channel with all their computer models.

There....

Today is Johann Sebastian Bach's birthday. I have been treated to a day long celebration of his music on my local NPR station. A particular treat was several pieces by the Swingle Singers. I particularly liked several of the fugues on their "Three Part Invention" cd. Also their version of Bach's Mass in B Minor. And if you are an affectionato of pipe organs, check out this site scroll to program 412 if you like trumpets with your pipes! Hey this site is supported by APOBA Would you ever have thought there was such an organ-ization? Can you just picture Dervala and her colleagues arranging a meet-up of these folks?

Nowhere....

What is the best way to lose your way or to get to nowhere? Which is worse to not plan or to plan and then ignore your plans? For the answers which should make you weep, see James Fallows article in The Atlantic Online.

2004-03-17T13:51:00.000-05:00

Here....

'Tis a snowy St. Patrick's Day in the northeast this year. Eight inchs of the fluffy white stuff mixing with all the green. And another "Alberta Clipper" predicted for tomorrow, hope to be able to get in a good backwoods ski and then I will be more than ready for the green of spring.

There....

A sure sign of the nearness of spring is the clouds of steam billowing out of the sugar houses. It is sugaring time across upstate New York, Vermont, New Hampshire, Maine and Quebec. Saturday will be a great time at the Merck Forest "Sugaring Celebration......hot cakes, hot syrup and hot Celtic music. And some skiing or snowshoeing to work up the appetite.

Nowhere....

Ever try to explain the present political situation and budget concerns to a non-political person? Heck it is complex enough for political science majors and political junkies. Check out this wonderful cartoon, complete with oreo cookies, to put the these issues in an understandable form!!!! Love Ben and Jerry's....favorite is still Cherry Garcia.

2004-03-09T21:40:00.000-05:00

Here....

Today was the first day of our annual spring Even Start family literacy conference. Our keynote speaker was Regi Carpenter, storyteller extrordinaire. You can listen to some of her wonderful stories. Her performance is better in person of course, with her theatrical presentation, but the stories are great just via the ear. Her adult stories, such as, "Hidden Treasures" are filled with meaning and a haunting voice. In the Hidden Treasures, the gold coin teaches us the fallacy of thinking if we do not see something, then we think we do not have something. And her kids stories are fun for kids of all ages, even us jaded big kids.

Besides her wonderful stories, Regi talked about how she became a storyteller. First she started telling stories to her kids in the bath. Then after seeing a professional storyteller, she delved into storytelling and failed miserably. Now this is where I saw the connection to blogs and how really blogs are the written version of the oral storyteller. Regi practiced and practiced words....and practiced and practiced sentences...and was fired. What she discovered missing in her stories was Heart. That stories are not about what we are, but rather who we are. And the aspect that has kicked me back into posting here....if you can listen, then you can tell stories.

Regi points out that the simplest activities of life can be a story in themselves. Think about and observe for example, how different people greet others and say hello. Now think about how animals greet and say hello...particularly dogs. She turned that into a story that would split your sides and had a George Carlinesque quality about it. Her first play, written at age nine, was about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

Storytelling is about listening. My favorite sandwich as a kid was peanut butter and banana oozing with honey. What was your favorite sandwich, I'd love to listen to that micro story!

There....

Read about another example of the Bush administration's foreign policy. Or a little more graphic explanation. And what did Rumsfeld do and say? Well, the unvarnished _ _ _ _ _ you fill inthe blank.

Now for the Caged Bird pop quiz....the above example best illustrates which of the following concepts? Sing out if you got a clue!!!!!

A. Hypocrisy

B. Short sightedness

C. Inconsistency with regime changes in other countries like Haiti and Iraq

D. Secret Closed door backroom deals

E. All of the above

Nowhere....

Hopefully, the diabolical Diebold fiends will be terminated.

2004-02-11T11:20:00.000-05:00

Here....

Spent the better part of the day being post-tested...no I am still not dumb as a post...althought some of these posts may have you wondering. This was post-operative testing...checking how the rebuilt ticker is doing. I am pleased to report that everything is looking great and I will be driving again soon and going to the gym to rehad the cardio system. A big part of the test for me was unintended.....tried my patience and had to practice mindfullness not to get annoyed at the long waiting periods between tests. I passed that test too.

There....

When you are feeling down, you may want to see a possible cause. Then you might want to observe some things to make you feel good. Since blue is my favorite color and it might help me to keep centered, I paricularly like gamma. But sometimes you might feel the need for something a little extra..for me it is Ben and Jerry's. Hey, they dont have my favorite, Cherry Garcia, so to support a needy cause ladle out some gravy.

Okay, indulge me... for a moment...I will be sexist. Women should consider the following interventions for those certain moments...if they want to tantalize or if they need to dull the pain or lower the inhibitions, perhaps these will do.

For the testosterone laden, you may want to wolf these, washed down with large intake of these while watching the stupor bowls of these.

And not to forget the "True Believers", you can turn to what Marx labeled "the opiate of the masses". My favorite would be the lotus. Although the collective consciousness has appeal to me as well as many aboriginal peoples of the world.

Nowhere....

It looks like Serbia is becoming the black hole of Nowhere Men.....who disgrace that which is good and kind in the human species...to wit:

(Excerped from AFP wire service)
BRUSSELS (AFP) - "Top Bosnian Serb war crimes suspect Radovan Karadzic has taken refuge in Belgrade, chief UN prosecutor Carla Del Ponte said, lamenting the city has become a "safe haven" for fugitives.
She said Wednesday the Bosnian Serb leader during the bloody 1992-1995 war in Bosnia-Hercegovina had apparently joined his then army chief Ratko Mladic in the Serbian capital, where authorities have frozen contacts with her.

Del Ponte added that around 15 war crimes suspects remained on the run in Serbia.
The charges against Karadzic and Mladic relate in particular to the three-and-a-half-year-long siege of Sarajevo, which killed some 10,000 civilians.

Karadzic is also accused of being one of the prime organizers of the 1995 massacre of more than 7,000 Muslim men and boys in the eastern Bosnian town of Srebrenica.

On Tuesday Bosnian Serb President Dragan Cavic demanded to see evidence to back international sanctions against a senior Serb politician accused of protecting Karadzic.

Cavic said he was concerned that the allegations, made Monday by the international community's high representative to Bosnia, Paddy Ashdown, could spark a political crisis within the Bosnian Serb government.

Ashdown said former Bosnian Serb president Mirko Sarovic was part of a criminal network which was protecting Karadzic.

Sarovic was among 10 Bosnian Serbs whose bank accounts were frozen Monday as part of an international campaign to target the network of people helping Karadzic and fugitives from the UN war crimes court at The Hague."

On the other side representing what is right with the human species....You might be interested in the following excerpt from Paddy's vitae:

"During the conflict in Bosnia and Herzegovina, Paddy was one of the leading advocates for decisive action by the international community. He argued strongly that this would help bring the conflict to an early close, and that this was in the interests of all the citizens of Bosnia and Herzegovina whatever their ethnic background. He visited the country many times during the conflict and subsequently. He took up his duties as High Representative for Bosnia and Herzegovina on 27 May 2002."

2004-02-03T14:55:00.000-05:00

Here....

Yesterday was a beautiful day....the temperature climbed to the freezing point (32 F/0 C), the sun shown brightly in a clea,r deep blue sky and the winds were silent. It made the perfect opportunity for my first real walk outside since my surgery. The cool air was warm enough not to make my lungs respond with pain producing coughs. My first strides were tentative as I maneuvered over the packed snow path. But after reaching the roadway, the brilliant sun, plows and salt had done their work and there was dry pavement. My strides lengthened as under-utilized muscles felt the freedom of movement, my spine straightened and I began to walk with great ease and freedom. The fresh air filled my chest and I began to drink in the elixir of the outside world. The sun beamed in my face and warmed me as I headed south. At the end of the street was a freshly made little puddle of water with two cavorting sparrows splishing and splashing like two kids in a summer wading pool, whilst chirping merrily away. They fell silent as I intruded on their fun, and quickly flew into a nearby bush for shelter as if it were a cabana. Turned west to start a circuitous route that would be full of strides, few cars, and never far from a return to home if required. As I walked, my warmth increased and I truly was having my spirits lifted. This was real progress, one small step for man, a giant leap for my psyche. Turning north, noticing the newly installed for sale sign on a neighbors snow covered lawn. Through the completely vacant parking lot of Leon's Mexican restaurant....the sun beating down on stucco walls could easily be in Cabo San Lucas, but the snow piled high around the parking lot quickly dispelled any of those foolish thoughts. Turning left again, then right, then left brought me to a preplanned destination...to check on the construction of the latest addition of housing in the neighborhood. It is a huge house far larger than any others nearby...and money is being spent as shiny copper sheets, reflecting in the sunshine, were being molded into a roof and eaves. I counted 13 trucks of construction workers....the push must be on to have this house ready for the summer racing season. The top floor windows can clearly see the clubhouse turn across the vacant field that will be packed with cars for the month of august. Enough of being a nosy neighbor, turning south, the sun in my face once again I stride along at a quickened pace, so much for lolligagging. Soon I began to hear a racket up ahead. It is a whole flock of the sparrows sunning. They have installed themselves in a tangle of bittersweet vines that have engulfed three spruce trees that have since withered and died. The vines are mostly brown but there are still splotches of brilliant red and yellow from the prized little berries. Scattered throughout this tangle are dozens of sparrows all puffed up like little brown and gray snowballs. They too fall silent as I approach, then chatter madly as I pass by. I can imagine the conversation about one of those characters sporting a "Dean" button. I am sure the ones in the bush are not supporting THE Bush. If all creatures could vote, the Kyoto accords would be in full force around the world I believe. Another right brings me fully around the loop and as I approach the shallow swimming hole, I see it has been abandoned for the moment. And a final right retraces my steps back up my own street, checking the mail box for wanted news, I find only bills and adverts. Passed the"Dean For America" sign stuck in the snowbank at the end of my driveway and I am home. It is indeed a great day, and although feeling a tad tired, IT IS GOOD!!!!

There....

I think the real winner of the super bowl may be Ti-Vo

Nowhere....

Here is a quote that I like and must try to pracitice as much as I try to increase my daily walks:

In seeking the essence of the Way,
one should quiet the mind
and penetrate to the depths.
Silently wander within
and clearly see the origin
of all things, obscured by nothing.
The mind is boundless and formless,
just as the pure water
contains the essence of autumn.
It is glistening white and lustrously bright
in the same way that
moonlight envelops the entire night.

- Hung-chih (12th century)

2004-02-02T15:10:00.000-05:00

Here....

My cardio doc gave me a glowing report, he is real pleased with the chest cutters work. Gave me the go ahead to start the rehab program at the gym next week.

Apparently it is ok for a crass halftime show....but it is not ok to run this ad from MoveOn.

There....

Hey, I guess I should learn to sing...apparently singing is good for your health.

Dervala is looking for examples of volunteer matchmaking Can you help out?

How much play will this reality show get? Not as much as the rigged veersion did I suppose. Plus how do you undo the damage?

Nowhere....

Check out these unbelievable sidewalk scenes.

2004-01-26T12:35:00.000-05:00

Here....

Thoughts On Passing By a Cardiac Bypass
Prelude...cold and dark out at 4:00a.m.... winter in upstate New York....a few snow flakes falling..very quiet...little wind...hardly anyone else up and about on Martin Luther King Day...only gas station attendants locked in behind their glass. Thinking of seeing the sun another day! Having read and reread the easy to follow directions to the "Emergency Entrance" my brain locks in on the word emergency and sends a boding of fear. Since the directions were so simple and clear, I do not have them with me...typical male. Easy to read directions, not so easy to follow.

Go to window for emergencies...oh ok... an emergency man behind his glass tries to help..."now turn around and go back and take a right and right again" Saunter past the "Information man" in his natty uniform, in such a sedate state that he could pass for one of Walt Disney's automatons in a 60's theme park. Everything is dark down by the second hallway...no one in sight. Backtracking again, the information man , behind his glass encasement, springs to life when asked a question...must have voice recognition software. "Go back down the hallway to the doorway on the right not the hallway on the right." Sure enough there is a doorway...to a darkened room..."go through that room... into the room behind". Slowly directions are being parsed. The lit room in back reveals a hospital clerk, with a smile, and a greeting. Of course, the accent gives it away, but the service would have in a moment, an immigrant....glad to be here, have a steady job, helping people in a hospital. No automaton here...quickly rechecking the printed info...all correct...now for the next part of the journey...no directions, but rather a personal escort through some more dimly lit corridors filled with signs...Wing A, Main Elevators, EXIT, Stairway, Emergency Hose. Imagine if you are some illiterate or spoke anything other than English. Escort ends at elevator...return to direction exchanges...."go to 2nd floor... turn left... go past visitors room...go to nurses station." Ok so far into visitors room...opps, dead end, u-turn... spy corridor with counter like a nurses station....with no nurses. There behind the column, some movement...a nurse.

"Name, date of birth, social security number"....shown to a room....."undress, put all belongings in bag, dressing gown opens in the back, socks on" ..."Name, date of birth, social security number"....More explanations.. "Read the Info?"...consents to sign..."time to draw blood..oh you have good vessels (then I don't need bypass?)...a little stick now". Shave time! Chin to ankle! Gives new meaning to twin blade shave...a tag team match and one was the evil twin. In a race to remove everything as if she was being paid "piecework", Evil was a NASCAR wannabee; the other twin was slow, methodical, gentle...no pulling, no scraping, no jabbing. I am turning into a pink little piggy, but only on one side. Evil must be singing "Lady in Red" to herself and thinking of some bad date as I was turning crimson on the other side. Weigh-In time....197.6 lbs...quickly converted to 89.3 kilos...right science uses the metrics. Into the shower room, given bottle of "special soap". Christ it was enough to wash 5 times. But it does not suds up, must be one of those Madison avenue hypes..."rich, luxurious lather". What we need is dead germs, not lather that forms peaks and covers lovely models bodies...Second set of dressing gown, second set of socks with rubberized treads...Back to the room...."wait will be 1/2 to 1 hour"...please do not let me wait here for another hour...yes mercy, only 20 mins in the Garden of Gethsemane....

"Name, date of birth, social security number"....with an added "for a coronary bypass?" The attendant is in full scrubs and in a cheery mood...happy that his first two patients are on time and he is now ahead of schedule, starting a good day for him. He is a strange looking fellow...dark complexion with the outline of sunglasses or more likely protective goggles from some kind of ultraviolet treatment on his face. Reminds me of the McDonald's Hamburgular in a reverse negative. Hurry up and wait...parked parallel in another staging area of consents and questions....I have a companion patient. We give each other sideways glances..."I'm Harold, glad to meet ya...Bert, nice to meet ya." Harold is a jovial fella, trying to make everyone feel good. More about Harold later....but for the moment I give Harold the resolute quiet treatment while thinking ...Harold, SHUT THE FUCK UP!

Next staff in full scrubs..."Name, date of birth, social security number,for a coronary bypass?" and an added "where you from?", "oh, Saratoga...I was up there buying a bicycle last week end....you cyclist...should look at Sirotta frames...got one...an expensive toy...but now need a touring bike...No more questions? see ya later." That must have been the take the mind off with disconnected talk technique. In waltzes a very tall, handsome man, nicely dressed in tweed coat and starched shirt...french cuffs, smells nice, nice handshake, exudes professionalism...he is the gas passer. Flips through his notebook..."mmmm, uh huh, good", sliding his finger down row after row of data...an initial here and there...more internal grunts of communication. "Everything looks good"...."Name, date of birth, social security number"... "for a coronary bypass?" with an added "Sign consents for anesthesia here"! "Thank you, see you in the OR shortly".

Soon the Reverse Hamburgular returns for another stage of this stage stop journey. Harold says "good bye, good luck, you'll do ok!" I manage a feeble "you too, see ya later". Twists and turns down the corridors wheels my hospital stretcher...as we near the operating room...a whispered, "this is against policy" results in a stop at the operating room door. What's up? Doc is not in the house yet! Apparently patients are not to be wheeled into an OR until the Doc is in the hospital. Quickly resolved...cell phone to the rescue....doc is in the parking lot...everything to proceed.

The OR is a beehive of activity...human and high tech...."Name, date of birth, social security number"... "for a coronary bypass?" Operating table height adjusted. Begin instructions on how to make the transfer onto the operating table.......but after 3 angioplasts, 5 angiograms, a lithotripsy and an appendectomy...I just do it...to the compliments of the OR staff....what a worthwhile skill. The table is rather comfy, form fitting, snuggly warm in a rather chilly atmosphere.

Activity is increasing...must be the Ace of Aces chest cutter does not want to waste any time once he arrives. Tape flying...on forehead, arms, neck...oxygen mask over face..."that won't work over the beard", off comes the mask, stripped of its elastic bands.....taped onto the face and beard.

In walks the gas passer, in scrubs now...."NO,NO,NO...the other arm...he's left handed". The equipment is switched around. He quietly explains that the radial artery in my right wrist is to be "harvested". I think that is a creepy word. I notice that classical music is playing in the background...rather soothing...don't recognize it, but like it. Tell that to the gas passer, who seems pleased and mentions, "good, better than clanging instruments" Don't know if he meant the musical variety or surgical variety. The high brow gas passer continues..."I am going to insert an IV now" as he reveals a 4 inch long needle...really. "Just a little pinch (Docs say pinch, nurses say stick) and a little burn"...he was truthful, they were little....this guy is good, real good.

Suddenly I am aware of the all the shiny objects in the room, the music is dreamy, and those lights, so bright and pretty and big, circular prismatic lights.....they enthrall me...time becomes meaningless...the nether world of modern pharmacy.

ARRRGGHHHH!!!!!!!! My throat......pain, pain, pain!!!!!!!!! Plastic shoved down my throat, strapped to the bed....a red hot poker must have been inserted into my chest...biting on the intubator. "You will feel much better when we remove the breathing tube from your throat". "Hang on for awhile." "Mmr fugng shhhh" I scream in an agonized muffled whisper. In and out of consciousness. "We are going to remove the intabator now, you will feel much better." Yippeee...can hardly wait...ecstasy at last......oh, you didn't mention you would rip out my tonsils and vocal cords with it. Going from very extreme pain to extreme pain is not what I would describe as "feeling better". Stripping away the throat pain lets me concentrate on the hot poker in my chest. "No pain killers for one full hour".....I am counting in nanoseconds.

Thank god for a new mantra...too late now to check who I am....Now it is..."On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being highest, please rate your pain". TEN, did you really have to ask? They don't ask this while you are intubated as the muffled sound would come out, "mrgng mrfty, mrthrmgr".

Worries begin as rationality returns, not a hot poker...I am having a heart attack, must be, why aren't they responding.....oh right, JUST a sternum cracked in two, ribs mechanically spread, freshly harvested vessels sewn in (wonder how Martha Stewart would decorate her heart...oh, right she doesn't have one)pieced together with thread and wire, and three tubes extruding from a huge bandage. Right arm, "harvest site" is furrowed and aching under another bandage oozing crimson from wrist to elbow....."On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being highest, please rate your pain". Ok, ok 10 already, give me the morphine. Nodding out and in. It hurts......."On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being highest, please rate your pain". 10, nodding out, 8, 7 thru the night. No not night yet, its only been one day.

Why do I need instructions on "how to move,sit up, sit down" and what is this heart shaped pillow? A feel good toy from the Reverse Hamburgular? I quickly learn the answer as the non-existent ice pick is inserted between my ribs. The scale returns to 8. The pillow I learn to love and hug tightly...when I do my breathing exercises and mandatory coughing torture.

Sticks, probes, prods, questions! "Bones" from Star Trek would feel right at home with the digital displays, the plasma screens, color graphs, touch selection, onboard computing, PDF's....oh and yeah....the clip board with pen and paper.

Morphine time is over. Handled it correctly...stretched out the morphine use to maximum advantage. Now onto percacette...just learned it is mixture of Oxycodone and Acetaminophen. Opium deriviative. Gives you a wallop for 3 to 4 hours...wiping out pain 8 and below. I cannot imagine the kick the abusers get from this. Apparently they crush the tabs and snort them. I guess Rush Limbaugh is more of an addict than I realized. Does he still use the term "moral weakling"? Is the term hype? Or is he in denial? Or is he a hypocrite...making him a moral weakling of a different stripe? Sometimes Biblical sayings are so right...."Let thee who has not sinned cast the first stone!"

Oh no, Harold has been transferred down to the progression unit. That is the good direction out of ICU. The once annoying buffoon has become a real spirit lifter.....telling all within earshot the story of his caper. Laughter is indeed good medicine. Harold has apparently been in the hospital for several days not healthy enough for his bypass. The staff, recognizing the value of positive thinking and humor, have enlisted Harold as a temporary court jester. Just in time for payback to the staff prankster. Harold played the perfect fool. The intended victim was left alone with Harold. "ma'am, I am a little confused". "Yes, can I help you"? "I run the county trash transfer station." "That's nice". "But I am confused, I don't know why I am here?" "You do look confused." "I really don't know why I am on the cardiac unit. I just came in for a vasectomy." "Oh, I will check with the charge nurse and get this straightened out." Althought his part in the skit was over, Harold loved to tell the punch line....over and over...with varying degrees of effectiveness. The nurse turns around to handle the situation and in the doorway there is a collective "gotcha" from assembled staff. Smiles and guffaws all around.

Harold gets to go to the progression unit a day earlier than I since he had only 2 tubes to my 3. His are already out. Later, I am told that the real reason is not the number of tubes, nor a shortage of rooms, but rather a lack of nurses in that unit. Can't we get some more immigrants, please?

Finally day 3, time to remove the tubes. The tubes run through slits between the ribs which are loaded with nerves, thus the pain. Especially when sitting up, but sitting up is what is needed to prevent pneumonia. An endless tantra of "on a scale....". "Take a deep breath, now make a face like this"....the nurse demonstrates a perfect Ellen DeGeneris , Nemo like fish face. Ok, lets rehearsh.....breathe deep, make the face...good...showtime (I am quick study)....ready, breathe deep, make f.......ooooowwwww! Another trick by the staff, who know what they are doing. Ok, it does feel a little better, but no more auditions for me.

Thursday is boring....endless vitals....temp, BP, pulse, oxygen level, blood sugar levels. Pills, for pain still can get the percocets every 3 hours, other stuff to make you pee, poop, adjust BP, bring blood sugar back to normal. "How do you feel? Are you doing the breathing exercises, coughing? Bringing anything up? What color?" Let me consult my Martha Stewart color palette. Burnt umbra! The nurse aides don't get it. Except the competent one from.....yep you guessed it, Bosnia. I have noticed that the further you get from the ICU the lower the appreciation of bad wit.

Friday, parole hearing with the Ace of Aces...don't get your hopes up. Ok, thinks I am another of his good statistics. Now the worst part...paper work...that's hyperbole. Just very impatient. In the middle of removing the last IV, nurse is called to insert one on somebody else. 2 hours later she returns. Long list of do's and don'ts, nutrition, follow-up appointments....can tell this is designed by the attorney's. They do not know anything about teaching and learning....and little knowledge is imparted. Sprung at last, the sun is beaming in the atrium. Whack...single digit air hits the lungs. That is worth a deep breath and a couple of coughs.

Home at last.....some privacy....my own bed....not too comfy yet. Very tired and weak. No mantras. Good to be home. And alive.

There....

Thoughts About A Cardiac Bypass Bypassed

Thirty years ago my father had a bypass operation. I say father as at that point in my life he was merely a biological fact...not a Dad. I was not there for his suffering.....in fact I did not even know that he was scheduled. It was for the best.

My father was not a good candidate....decades of tobacco, non-exercise, family history, decades of alcohol abuse......and PTSD from his war years. Part of the reason he was not really there for my childhood. But now that I have learned of his war horrors, I can call him Dad. And forgive him for my traumatic youth.

30 years is a long list of improvements in cardiac surgery. Just think of the technology. They didn't even know what a pc or an apple IIe was.

When my dad came out of the OR into ICU, he couldn't write a blog. Although he always loved to write. They had tried writing therapy in the VA hospital psychiatric unit, and had been part of the Veterans Writing Project. It is horrifying to think of his fear....as he had been transported back in his mind to WWII. And had been captured by the Germans, who were experimenting on him. Can you imagine the fear seared onto a mind when you think you will be killed and your buddies around you have been mangled ...day after day. It never goes away. And in the stress of the bypass...the fear takes over. But my Dad made it out of the hospital, and lasted for three more weeks, until peace was finally brought to him. And my mom too was finally released from her purgatory. There is an excellent description of this fear in the closing, going home chapters of the book by O'Donnell, Beyond Valor.

Think of this fear when you hear about the boys coming home from Iraq, and the terms "Mission Accomplished" are used as a political gimmick.

Nowhere....

The plans for the technology transformation of the Hudson-Mohawk Valley revolve around the development of the nanotech industry. Nanotechnology is about small, very small. Albany has been renamed Smalbany. Of course, the NYC folks have been saying that for years. But it has been hard to imagine something so small. All the definitions don't quite put it into proper perspective. Until the other day......I heard the greatest explanation.....think of building a Cell phone for an ant.....and the ant can use it. My mind went wild.....all I could think of is Dervala's sister and her flying thumbs...and then a horde of 6 legged social animals that collectively weigh more than human kind...doing a sextet of messaging.....locating recent spills on the kitchen counter, text your friends and family o come on over for a barbeque drink-up, yeah it is the Jack Daniels brand, but i am sure we can find some soda pop laying around.....lost in a jungle of a suburban lawn? Get text directions home before the lawn maintenance guys arrive....report live via text about the flooding of the new underground mall....Ant News & Entertainment Network....

And then if cell phones, why not PC's? Before you know it there will be a marketing scheme for Ant MeetUps I can see it now:

--Carpenter Ant Meetups to exchange woodworking techniques
--Vegan Leafcutter Ant Mold fest
--12 step meetups for Ant sugar addicts
--Ants with pet Aphids
--Flying Ants, how to use GPS while swarming(ant version of mobbing?)
--Fire Ants, Burning Man plans, igniting of nano-effigy of 10 y.o. bully with magnifying glass
--Gourmet Picnic Meetup with Martha Stewart and other felons.
--Film classic meetup, "The Naked Jungle" Teach your kids so Leiningen's butchery can never happen again.

2004-01-17T11:26:00.000-05:00

Here....

It is perfectly gorgeous day...a blue, blue sky, nary a wisp of cloud, not a stir of wind....and the temp has made up to the double digits. Could get out the beach togs and beach blanket. Hell by the side of the road they have spread enough sand to make castles.....and enough salt to make margaritas..its a virtual Margaritaville type day! Crank up the Jimmy Buffet, pop open the DVD player and put on Cool Runnings

There....

But real beachs are in the Land of Oz....
What I would give to be at the Sydney Festival 2004...I would be frantic trying to go from one venue to another and fretting on how to make choices. All the while thinking of the beach and surf and beach babesBondi , Cogee, Cronulla, Maroubra... .

Nowhere....

Why are these poems appearing to me online almost on the eve of my life altering surgery? This one is via Writers Almanac...(the alignment is the poet's , Robert Lax, not my html ignorance...although i have that too.

Byzantine Faces

i won't believe
i'm really
alive

until i'm gladder
to be alive
here now
than to have
been alive
there then

living in greece
i may be
thinking
i am, was,
alive there
then

some byzantine
time
some classical
time

why think
that good?

i should
know better

i think good
any time except
the eighteenth
century

(not too bad)

the nineteenth
century

(bad enough)

or the twentieth

really, i'm
glad to be
alive in the
twentieth

not only glad
to be just
alive

but even to
be alive
just now
right now

yes, but i keep
remembering
a light in the
eyes of certain
figures in
frescoes

certain figures
in mosaics

that made
me wish
i was living
then

as though
living then
were to
live

forever

some life
some liveliness
in the eye
that seemed
eternal
eternally
alive
eternally
infinitely
joyous
& penetrating

(warm with
the warmth
of life
exploding,
even, with,
the joy
of life)

yet there
forever

is it
that see
ing them
in some
mu
se
um

seeing
them still
preserved
still
living

made me
envy
their
state

?

not
sure

am
not
sure,
either,
that it
was envy
they gave
me, but
rather a
life

a spark
of living
to keep
alive

2004-01-16T22:23:00.000-05:00

Here....

Monday is a big day....I visit the chest cracker....

There....

Halley visits the eye peeler....and Dr. Dean visits the future of democracy and our own destiny.

Nowhere....

Attribution goes to unknown author...

Theme for the Kennebunkport Hillbilly
(sung to the tune of The Beverly Hillbillies Theme Song):

Come and listen to my story 'bout a boy name Bush.
His IQ was zero and his head was up his tush.
He drank like a fish while he was drivin' all about.
But that didn't matter 'cuz his daddy bailed him out.

DUI, that is. Criminal record. Cover-up.

Well, the first thing you know little Georgie goes to Yale.
He can't spell his name but they never let him fail.
He spends all his time hangin' out with student folk.
And that's when he learns how to snort a line of coke.

Blow, that is. White gold. Nose candy.

The next thing you know there's a war in Vietnam.
Kin folks say, "George, stay at home with Mom."
Let the common people get maimed and scarred.
We'll buy you a spot in the Texas Air Guard.

Cushy, that is. Country clubs. Nose candy.

Twenty years later George gets a little bored.
He trades in the booze, says that Jesus is his Lord.
He said, "Now the White House is the place I wanna be."
So he called his daddy's friends and they called the GOP.

Gun owners, that is. Falwell. Jesse Helms.

Come November 7, the election ran late.
Kin folks said "Jeb, give the boy your state!"
"Don't let those colored folks get into the polls."
So they put up barricades so they couldn't punch their holes.

Chads, that is. Duval County. Miami-Dade.

Before the votes were counted five Supremes stepped in.
Told all the voters "Hey, we want George to win."
"Stop counting votes!" was their solemn invocation.
And that's how George finally got his coronation.

Rigged, that is. Illegitimate. No moral authority.
Y'all come vote now. Ya hear?

2004-01-13T17:36:00.000-05:00

Here....

Heard this Longfellow Sonnet the other morning....I like it , I should recite as the gas passer does his deed on the 19th, and I sink and fade away...to be revived as the ideal on the morrow.

NIGHT
Into the darkness and the hush of night
Slowly the landscape sinks, and fades away,
And with it fade the phantoms of the day,
The ghosts of men and things, that haunt the light,
The crowd, the clamor, the pursuit, the flight,
The unprofitable splendor and display,
The agitations, and the cares that prey
Upon our hearts, all vanish out of sight.
The better life begins; the world no more
Molests us; all its records we erase
From the dull common-place book of our lives,
That like a palimpsest is written o'er
With trivial incidents of time and place,
And lo! the ideal, hidden beneath, revives.

ok, another new word....Main Entry: pa·limp·sest
Pronunciation: 'pa-l&m(p)-"sest, p&-'lim(p)-
Function: noun
Etymology: Latin palimpsestus, from Greek palimpsEstos scraped again, from palin + psEn to rub, scrape; akin to Sanskrit psAti, babhasti he chews
Date: 1825
1 : writing material (as a parchment or tablet) used one or more times after earlier writing has been erased
2 : something having usually diverse layers or aspects apparent beneath the surface ...credit for this goes to Merriam-Websters Online.
And I should have known this....the Lead character in "Baudolino" by Umberto Eco uses this technique to rewrite history of Frederick Barberossa....sort of like Bush's gang and the war for oil...opps "Iraqi Freedom".

There....

Lord of The Right Wing....Need I say more?

Nowhere....

Thank you, Thank you , Thank you Paul O'Neill.....read his Bio on the U.S. Department of the Treasury website. I should have known that he began his career as a civil servant. He has just paid the american public a tremendous service and it will cost him dearly..."The Price of Loyalty"...But the coin of integrity that he will reap makes him a very rich man indeed.

2004-01-09T15:23:00.000-05:00

Here....

Learned a new word....Laocoon....but this keyboard doesn't have the proper key to spell Laocoön.

The chest cracker wants to have at me on the 19th now not the 20th...not a bad day either...Martin Luther King Day...more synchronicity ....my chest cracker is an African-American.

There....

An interesting but unintended
consequence of Doctor Dean's conservative opposition..... you know the ones who don't want to waste tax payers money...unless it is going to Bechtel or Haliburton.

Enron Queen, Lea Fastow, must stand trial. She wouldn't accept a plea bargain that gave the judge discretion in sentencing. I like this judge, David Hittner, who wouldn't approve a measly 5 month sentence in the plea bargain. May hurt the feds a little as they were counting on a guilty plea from her husband, who would then sing like a caged bird. Hey they were going to keep their "well-appointed" home and only be fined $10 million of the $30 million that they looted from the company and all those sucker employees' retirements. Hey, how many years do lowly 7-11 robbers get? Or someone who sticks up Bank of America?

Nowhere....

Many people put tag lines on their signatures for emails. I only use my sig in formal communications but here is my tagline:

"The mind is not a vessel to be filled,

but a fire to be ignited"--Plutarch 46-120 A.D.

What's in your sig?

2004-01-06T16:35:00.000-05:00

Here....

Reading May Sarton's Journal of a Solitude.....her visions of the surrounding nature and her inner feelings enthrall me.

The chest cracker wants to have at me on the 20th...not a bad day...Robert Frost read from memory his poem "The Gift Outright" at JFK's Inaugural.....

And Marty Moss was born 100 years ago.....he was assistant director of the TV series "I Led 3 Lives", based on the autobiography of Herb Philbrick. Philbricks store was the little tiny variety store and lunch counter in Rye Beach, N.H. where I spent my childhood summers frolicking in the surf, playing on the rocks and getting woefully sunburnt. Philbricks was great for a popsicle or a bag of chips.....

There....

And things could be worse on the 20th.....like in Baku or in many areas of central Asia where there is scant health care, scant democracy and abundant poverty.

Nowhere....

For any Flaneur wannabees (I know at least one downunder who will admit it ) lurking out there.......
http://www.flaneur.org/

I have a scrolling marquee screensaver with the following quotes:

Illigitmi non carborundum! Translation? Hey, I am an educator ...look it up!!!!

"Against stupidity, the Gods themselves contend -- in vain" --Schiller

"Time is the coin of life. Only you can determine how it will be spent." --Carl Sandburg

What's on your screen?

2003-12-31T15:55:00.000-05:00

Here....

I got the word from the cardiologists, the chest crackers will have my thorax to carve on. Will be meeting with the ace of the capital district to see if he wants to do an excellent job. Funny, my cardiologist who I have great faith in tells me that the chest crackers don't always do what the cardio guys tell them to. He says the reason is that they couldn't be bothered in doing the hard procedures sometimes. He is having me consult with the ace chest cracker on Friday. Cardio guy claims he will not bullshit me as much as he will bullshit the cardio. Also, the ace is less of a bullshitter than others around here. If I do not have confidence in the ace, then I will wing out to the Cleveland clinic to let them have a go at my thorax. They are the aces of the aces in the use of arterial graphs which is the big thing for me....according to my cardio. Nerves have not set in yet.

There....

Dean supporters did it...set the
record for contributions in a single quarter for democrats. I did my part...sent in a contribution thru Halley of comment fame.

Nowhere....

The new year is dawning all over the world today. According to my friend Chris , "Tomorrow a new year according to some. In a few weeks, another new one for the Chinese and a few weeks after that, Tsagaan Sar, a new Mongol year.

2003-12-22T13:45:00.000-05:00

Here....

Yesterday, I was out doing a little snowshoeing. Just a little as my stamina is still not back to normal and did not want to get too deep into the woods alone.

The snow was beautiful despite the small amount of rain we had on the top of the last big snow storm. I was up in one of my favorite haunts within the blue line of the Adirondack Park, not far from Lake Desolation. The sky was a great shade of blue, not bright blue but one that looked like it had been bleached out by a full cycle of sun. A very faded pair of jeans blue. There were a few clouds running in long streaks and way up high. But mostly the blue dominated. And some strange wispy clouds....not really herringbone stripes but maybe like a ghostly herringbone pattern, something that Jacob Marley might be wearing. On the snow I saw lots of snowshoe hare tracks and the prints of a stalking coyote. There was an express highway of tracks used by a large herd of deer. But did not see any creatures except the birds...the chickadees are so inquisitive. Hated to leave the peace and solitude of the snow covered forest, but the day was wearing long...er rather short as it is the solstice.

After warming a bit in the car, I slowly drove toward town still enjoying the trees in their winter white. At a favorite outlook I stopped to watch the sun slowly drop into the glorious colors of if sunset The strange clouds turned on there brightest colors, as if to say "it's a Druid holiday....let's get a jump on celebrating". The pinks and purples where almost unnatural looking in their iridescence. I lingered to catch the last rays of light.

There....

Trouble in Santa Land.....Elves laid off.. I don't what is the worst aspect of this story.....the elves unemployed just before Christmas, the supersonic jetport near the arctic circle or the hordes of tourists overrunning the last great wilderness of Europe.

To the tunes of Bob Marley.....Get Up, Meet Up.....Stand Up for your rights!!!! Who thinks Dean should adopt this for theme song?

Thanks to Cookie Monster for this link to another unintended consequence of the new world order and globalization, hey maybe we can outsource Dubya..

Nowhere....

Today is the birthday of Disraeli who tried to contain Russia and the birthday of Stalin, the evil incarnate who tried to contain the whole world not just Russia. What does that congruence say about the validity of astrology?

Feeling soul-less, kind of empty inside? Find out
which inanimate object are you? My results.......glue;

Or better yet...contemplate these words to find a true meaning for this time of year. The symbols are as true today as they were last year and perhaps for eons.

2003-12-19T16:19:00.000-05:00

Here....

I have been putting out food (sunflower seeds and thistle seeds and suet) for the wild birds. I have attracted juncos, blue jays, titmice, nuthatches (my favorite), chickadees, sparrows, ravens, downy woodpeckers, purple finches, goldfinches, and bright red cardinals, a cooper hawk who scares the hell out of the little birds, and a whole herd of greedy, gray squirrels. Have also seen tracks of many rabbits in the snow.....and also those of a fox.

I just took out of storage, some small, carved angels. They are carved from soap. They were carved many years ago when was a child. One is still very beautiful that was carved by my mother, the others which were carved by me and my sister are not as good...but they have special meaning to me......remind me of a childhood Christmas. We carved angels from soap because even us kids could do it and also we did not have a lot of money then. I have always loved Christmas gifts that were hand made. I think it is more special than something bought in a store. And of course the giving is more fun than the receiving. I still have a beautiful sewing box that my parents made in the 1940's. My father did the woodworking and my mother did the painted decorations. All my cousins have similar sewing boxes as my parents gave them as gifts to each of my aunts. Each one is decorated in a little different style.

Also, I have spent a lot of time moving snow, thank goodness for the invention of the snowblower....we have had a second big snowstorm drop another foot on us. Everything is white. The mountains just to the north...Adirondack Mtns... received multiple feet of snow in the last storm and another couple of feet in this most recent storm. It has been one of the snowiest Decembers that I can remember. The skiers are very happy.

There....

The first 5 years of my existence was spent in Lawrence, Massachusetts and its close environs. It was originally built as an ideal textile mill town in the mid 19th century. It was quickly populated by Irish mill hands, as well as Latvians, Lithuanians, Syrians, Italians, French-Canadians, many more nationalities...you get the idea. This once proud city included in its citizens both Robert Frost and Leonard Bernstein. The ideal city soon wore off its new veneer. Labor strife, the infamous Bread and Roses Strike of 1912 and the mind dulling crush of the Great Depression did a great deal of damage to the city's psyche and citizens. After WWII the remaining textile mills closed and the jobs went to the American South with its anti-labor environment. Then they went to Mexico under NAFTA and now have gone to
china because of the weakness of organized labor in those new locales. It is a race to the bottom for workers wages and conditions and environment concerns. Think about it the next time you purchase at the Gap or Wal-Mart's or American Eagle or now even L.L. Bean. The downward spiral of lost jobs did not stop Lawrence from being an immigrant destination. My cousins (who left the city but not too far away) all joke that there is a sign at the immigration office which reads: "This Way to Lawrence". The places where they come from are now the Dominican Republic and similar places in Central America. The state has increased oversight for the failed school system, among the worst in the state. And the superintendent gets Romney's backing despite his shortcomings. That is particularly sad as several generations of my family were teachers and took pride in the education of the immigrant families as a way to the American dream. I was very sad last year when I visited the family plot in the cemetery and then drove around the old family neighborhood. The structures were still there, though they looked more drab and weary...or was it the difference between a child's' eye and grown-up-adult-little-kid?

Nowhere....

I am in cardiac limbo at the moment. I have had another follow-up angiogram to check on the roto-rooter job done recently on my genetically inferior cardio-vascular system. The results weren't what I had hoped for. So still waiting to discuss the next steps with my cardiologist guru (whom I am very glad I have and is very open with me and does not patronize me). Afraid it looks like the modern version of being drawn and quartered. Well that is a bit of hyperbole......but I know having your sternum cracked in two will not feel real comfy. Wonder if the surgeons make a wish when they do it!!!! Now I know how the turkey must feel when we play games with their wish bone. Question I have is...do I rush and get this over with....have Christmas and News Years bookending my next hospital stay? Or do I wait and contemplate the approaching butchery? Not what I had in mind when I thought of happy holidays, maybe if I put in for a new cardio system, Santa will bring on Christmas Eve! Hey , I will even leave out some good aussie brew....Coopers Sparkling Ale... as a bribe. And some of my famous secret recipe chocolate chip cookies. Anybody got ideas on what are St. Nick's weak spots for graft. Oh, now I am thinking of being a cabbage head....CABG...is medico speak for replumbing the old ticker.

Ok, who knows the punch line for "Why isn't Santa married?"

2003-11-26T14:54:00.000-05:00

Here....

On the Friday the 14th I took off from work, traveled to New York City for some more medical tests. Internal cardiac ultra-sounds are not available locally and my doctor wanted me to see a leading expert in this field. The plan was to get the test on Friday afternoon and stay over at the hospital for observation until Saturday and return home. However, after doing the internal ultrasound we (docs and me) decided to go ahead with an advanced procedure that they have perfected there and do a special kind of angioplasty. I was still supposed to go home on Saturday. However, they could not complete the procedure as I had received too much dye contrast for my kidneys to safely handle. So I had to wait in the hospital until Monday for the kidneys to get all that dye out of my system and then they could finish the procedures on Monday. Which they did with on Monday morning. I was scheduled to leave Tuesday afternoon. However, there was a problem with a hematoma and some bleeding where the procedure enters the artery, so I had to wait till the swelling started to go down and it was positive that there was little danger of further bleeding. Which took until Friday. I took the train and was finally home the evening of the 21st. Boy, was it good to be home in my own bed and eating real food!!!! And being up and walking around without any monitors or having blood tests, or being awakened in the middle of the night to be to checked and told to go back to sleep!!!!

Bottom line is I feel very well, the procedures were a success (despite the
complications) and I am now back to work. Just have to keep it easy for a while, no heavy lifting etc.... Am walking more and more each day and starting to get my strength back. Still slightly sore around the bruised area, but that is lessening each day. Just glad to be home , healthy and getting to send out a few words to friends and here.

There....

During my boring hospital stay I finished the book,
The Oath by Khassan Baiev. What synchronicity!!!!! As I read about the horrendous conditions this doctor and his colleagues endured, I was being cared for by some some of the most competent medical staff in the world. In fact my procedure on Friday was being televised to doctors from about 40 countries as part of the Lennox Hill Hospitals teaching responsibilities. I truly am lucky to have such care available to me. And I will adding the

International Committee for the Children of Chechnya to my list of
charities. It makes me realize the wonderful life I have here, and
grateful for the peace and freedom and prosperity. I wish that the future generations would learn to appreciate this and to help those who are less fortunate.

Nowhere....

I know winter does not officially start until the winter solstice, but
nature has not waited for such astronomical events. It makes me think of the lyrics of the song written by Pete Seeger...."Turn,Turn,Turn". The words were adapted from the Book of Ecclesiastes by Pete Seeger.

Turn,Turn,Turn

To everything - turn, turn, turn

There is a season - turn, turn, turn

And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to be born, a time to die

A time to plant, a time to reap

A time to kill, a time to heal

A time to laugh, a time to weep

To everything - turn, turn, turn

There is a season - turn, turn, turn

And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to build up, a time to break down

A time to dance, a time to mourn

A time to cast away stones

A time to gather stones together

To everything - turn, turn, turn

There is a season - turn, turn, turn

And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time of war, a time of peace

A time of love, a time of hate

A time you may embrace

A time to refrain from embracing

To everything - turn, turn, turn

There is a season - turn, turn, turn

And a time for every purpose under heaven

A time to gain, a time to lose

A time to rend, a time to sew

A time to love, a time to hate

A time of peace, I swear it's not too late!

I thought of this song and its meanings at the time of the changing of the seasons and also of the recent commemoration of the war veterans, those still alive, those deceased and those currently in conflicts around the world. As well as all the innocent civilians and children caught in the middle of those troubles. And thankful for the good fortunes I have in life.

2003-11-01T11:05:00.000-05:00

Here....

MassMoCA exhibit "Yankee Remix" is fantastic. I particularly like Frano Violich's Material Witness. If you have never heard of or visited MassMoCa.....check out the film, Upside Down. Wonderful story of art and community and urban planning and historic preservation and economic development.

There....

Check out this link on the emerging state of blogging provided by my friend Chris, down under in Oz! Make sure you view the cartoon link as well.

Nowhere....

The lost art of listening is important to me. Listening is critical in all kinds of situations, for example while learning , for jobs and careers and probably most importantly for those relationships with friends and family. I try to always be the good listener. I have extended the meaning of listening to the reading of
others blogs and emails. I especially liked to listen to this essay . And I must add "ME" to my booklist of to reads. I was particularly drawn to the two little quotes from reviews of this work. I would be interested in others reaction to this essay. Particularly father/daughter listenings.

2003-10-29T09:28:00.000-05:00

Here....

The local election for Saratoga Springs city government is turning into a hotly contested, close, who-knows-what-will-happen-affair. Highly unusual for this locale. Most elections are ho-hum with everyone knowing the outcome by the end of the Summer Racing season. The major issues are:

what kind of expansion for our water system (if at all),

whether it was wise to opt out of the
county sales tax scheme to conduct our own city sales tax and

a continuation of the development vs.
preserving open space controversy.

Well I come squarely down on the side of no county run water system tapping the Hudson river, lets keep control of our own sales tax and of course how about continuing our "smart growth". I still enjoy being able to walk downtown to all the things I need in the town. And yet having the rural countryside just a short walk in the opposite direction. Being able to enjoy forested glades, lonely wetlands, and all kinds of peace and solitude only interrupted by the critters chattering away and an occasional 2 legged critter ambling along.

There....

Been there...done that....The Bush
administration is continuing its policy of "Iraquification". Unfortunately, it is not because it will work , but rather because the two alternatives are impossible. The rest of the world is sitting on its hands and withholding their troops since they do not like the idiotic, arrogant treatment they have been getting from this west Texas deputy sheriff type. And we do not have enough troops, (or is it political will to send more boys over who will come back in body bags or otherwise scarred for life). Rumsfeld's solution is "to stay the course...only faster". this reminds me of Werner Von Braun's definition of a "crash program" during the race for space days... "Get nine women pregnant in hopes of getting one baby in one month". Is it just me or is this the best time to invoke Yogi's famous saying..."it's like deja vu all over again". Does this remind you of the other quagmire of times not too distant?

Well we have a beauty of an excess of
unfettered capitalism trial going on. It's the "Tyco Toga Party" trial. Seems as if the CEO, L. Dennis Kozlowski, and CFO, Mark H. Swartz, of Tyco were having quite the bash on the isle of Sardinia while looting their corporation. Complete with bikini clad maidens, Hercules type male models, an ice sculpture of Michelangelo's David pissing cold vodka, and of all thing Jimmy Buffet doing a live cover of Van Morrison's "Brown
Eyed Girl" and Karen M. Kozlowski's birthday cake in the shape of a reclining nude woman. Maybe MasterCard can make this into a great TV spot....Hercules and shapely bikini's....$10,000..... shapely cakes.....$2,000.....Jimmy Buffet live....$250,000.......a pissing Michelangelo......Priceless.

To me the worst part is having Buffet covering Van Morrison....maybe Van has more integrity. Take a sample listen to bring you back to those years and events that seem to be coming 'round again.

Nowhere....

Forty years and 3 days have passed since our president spoke at Amherst College. Do these words ring as true to your ears as much as to mine? Can you imagine our current Commander In Chief uttering such words? So much has changed in the world, so much that it has come round the circle. These words from that day are sadly haunting me today: "And I look forward to an America which commands respect throughout the world not only for its strength but for its civilization as well"---JFK

2003-10-28T16:41:00.000-05:00

Here....

Last night it was raining buckets, as I waited at the bus
stop. It was late and dreary as I had been late at the office again. The air was filled with the rain and billowing masses of gray mist blew across the sky. These were low flying clouds, barely able to clear the Corning tower of the Empire State Plaza...these gray ghosts seemed ominous as they were lit by the floodlights of the numerous government buildings. The streets were deserted, the usual homeless and other assorted night dwellers were sheltering somewhere out of the rain. My eyes were drawn to the glare and reflections of the occasional passing vehicle as well as the buildingalights. This light gave a shiny overcoat to the dull black asphalt andaspeckled it with random diamonds all sparkly.

Just in front of me ran a rivulet in the gutter. As the rain had been steady all day and heavy at times, this was a significant torrent . I started thinking of this little temporary river as a study in
microcosm about the ways of water. I began to observe closer and my mind began to contemplate the myriad things that my little feeder stream of the mighty Hudson could demonstrate. Just in the span of a few short feet, I could see a model for flood plain management. Where the newly fallen red and yellow and orange leaves had begun to gather and clog the waterway and try to defy the effects of gravity, small pools of languid water began to collect and to expand. I then could picture Lilliputian fly fishermen casting into the head of these pools perhaps seeking the fall runs of salmon that no longer run the once mighty Hudson and its tributaries. Then I noticed a beautiful yellow maple leaf with tinges of red. It was perfectly outfitted for a run down the rapids. Its shape was slightly curled and cupped giving it a good buoyancy and it firm stem was curved gracefully into the torrent and acting as nice little rudder. I could just picture two little beings, yelping with ecstasy as they rode the class IV rapids of the north branch of the Washington Avenue gutter and shot the gorge thru the wilderness of capitol park. Careful of those hydraulics, and watch out for the #10 bus carrying its few pitiful passengers to the Crossgates Mall. Soon the little leaf was spun into a whirl and then righted its self as it passed into the darkness, down the hill past the State Capitol and City Hall making its way to the Hudson tidal estuary just like a little Half Moon of 300+ years ago.

Soon the distinctive lights of the bus made its way slowly up the hill and its wheels came to rest right in the middle of my imagined hydraulic engineering project and snapped my mind back to reality. I got on the bus realizing neither the driver nor any of the passengers had nary an inkling of the wonders of miniature white water rafting. In only a month or two my minds imagination will replace the river runners with bobsledders and ski jumpers and down hill racers.

There....

Another wonderful story from Bill Moyer's NOW. This program really speaks to my ideology. Last Fridays episode had a segment on Joseph C. Hough from the Union Theological Seminary. His bio
should impress the true believer type of Christian who think they know all the
answers. For all of those people out there who never quite know how to combat the spewings of the Christian right wing zealots.....the Rev. Hough sure passed out some
ammunition for a more fair and balanced approach to reality and to religious teachings and morality. This is about the best words I have heard from a bible toting pastor since MLK.

When I told a friend of this program, she told me to check out Forrest Church. Sure glad I listened. I now have some sermons to read over the next few days/weeks. I like what I have read so far. Will also have to check out his books.

Nowhere....

Julie Krone rode Funny Cide in the Breeder's Cup
"Classic" for the 3 year old championship. Coming off a 3 month
lay-off and the flu, the pride of Saratoga came in next to last. Saratoga still loves its wonderful horse , the only NY bred to win the Kentucky Derby and his improbable owners.

2003-10-25T12:05:00.000-04:00

Here....

So far I have had one comment, and maybe only one visitor to this
site. It is making me a little sad. But then again it has only been
up for a few days. I didn't realize I would crave attention so much.
I guess I need validation. Time will tell. Must look inward and see
the real important focal point of where I should be looking. Must practice
what I preach to others. Need to get able to write more inner feelings
rather than impress other. Life long battle for me. Just another
step along the way.

"A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single
step".--Lao-Tzu

There....

"The Crisis of Human Capital in Central Asia"
is the title of the Fourteenth Annual Nava'i Lecture, to be presented by
Dr. Laura Adams on November 19 at Georgetown University. Dr. Adams
received her PhD from the University of California, Berkeley, in 1999
and has since published and lectured widely, in the U.S. and abroad, on
the cultures and societies of Central Asia, with particular reference to
Uzbekistan. She spent the month of June this year in Bishkek doing
research on the intellectual life of Kyrgyzstan, and is currently a
postdoctoral fellow at Georgetown's Center for Eurasian, Russian and
East European Studies (CERES).

The annual Nava'i Lecture is jointly sponsored by CERES and the Alfred
Friendly Foundation. It is designed to give recognition to outstanding
young scholars entering the field of Central Asian studies.

This year's lecture
program will convene at 5:30 pm, Wednesday, November 19

in the Riggs Library (Healy Hall) on the University's main campus in
Washington, DC. A
reception will follow the lecture.

Space is limited.
Please RSVP, acceptances only, to 202-687-6080 or guceres@georgetown.edu
by Friday November 14.

Nowhere.....

"The artist is extremely lucky who is presented with the worst possible ordeal which will not actually kill him. At that point, he's in business." --John Berryman

2003-10-24T14:58:00.000-04:00

Here....

Listen! the wind is rising,

and the air is wild with leaves,

We have had our summer evenings,

now for October eves

-Humbert Wolfe

There....

What is your battle cry? Hey check this out...go to
a Scandinavian site. This generated my battle cry as:

Zang! Who is that, rampaging across the icy wasteland! It is Bert, hands clutching a vorpal blade! He howls gutterally:

"I'm seriously going to beat you
until you have puppies!!!"

I would be interested in what this generates for any of you readers out there, if there are any?

Nowhere....

The inane robot on "Lost in Space would be going--"Danger, Danger, Solar Storm Approaching".......Holy Cow Batman......we are getting bombarded by a solar blast!!!!! Where will the coronal mass ejection (CME) hit and when? Dang, that almost sounds pornographic. Check out the aurora gallery on that page. Any of you in the northern latitudes be on the lookout for some possibly fantastic light shows. Report any sightings here please!!!!!

2003-10-23T16:43:00.000-04:00

Here....

As the autumn leaves are turning and some have begun dropping, my eyes keep looking for that next sign of the season changes. And my ears keep listening for that far away faint sound that turns my eyes upward and northward...the unmistakable honk of the migrating geese. For years I have witnessed the change of season with the V's of geese winging their way to the sun drenched tropics. The Hudson river must be a major landmark in their genetic code as it is a major flyway. Multitudes of geese pass over and many stop at the harvested corn fields and marsh lands that are so abundant in this area. The corn fields are like the truck stops on the Interstates, where the drivers refuel for the next part of the journey, and the honking geese resemble the drivers exchanging news of the road, porn mags and bad jokes and whatever other gossip they have gleaned from their CB's.

It was in a clear, October sky two fall seasons ago that I witnessed what I think may be a once in a life time event. The cool, crisp morning had just begun, and the early morning fog had burned off when I heard the faint honks above the car noise. So I pulled off on a back road near the crest of a hill with an extensive view of the Hudson River valley. And when I first could focus my eyes on the source of the distinctive sound , there was something different about these geese. They were far higher up in the air. These surely were on an express route, not going to stop for any food. And they were white. And there were many of them. I gazed at them as they flew over, probably 10 V's in a line across the sky. They looked like a string of pearls strung across the deepest blue sky. But wait, there is another string coming behind them, and another and another. They just kept coming. Interspersed were a few other geese who were dark, almost like specks of onyx spaced at odd intervals within the strings of pearls. What I would learn later that this was the mass migration of the "Snow" geese. And also, that within the flocks of the Snow geese mass events, a few "Blue" geese have chosen to live in a diversified, integrated neighborhood. But my eyes were seeing things that I could hardly believe...more and more strings appeared in the sky. As I tracked the first geese I had seen reaching the southern horizon, they were followed by legions of their fellow travelers. So many that the entire sky from the northern to southern horizons was filled with strings of geese. Quickly I did the math calculations, 10 geese to a V, 10 V's to a string....I stopped counting when I reached 100 strings...that's 10,000 of these beauties. I continued to watch slack jawed, checked my watch and started to estimate the time it took for the entire flock to fly over....it must have been 20 mins. I have never witnessed such a flight before or since. It was an awesome sight, that will forever be etched into my memory.

Since then I have learned that they gather in groups of 20,000 to 30,000 or more and can fly non-stop for 1500 miles. But also that they are over abundant in the Arctic now. And the fragile Attic environment is being damaged by their eating habits. But they sure were a wonder of nature that fine October morning. At this time of the year, I always listen for the faint honks of the high flying snow geese and search the clear blue sky for "the string of pearls".

There....

I have been known to get on a rant about how the current administration is taking us down a road or perhaps a slippery slope to a government and economy that may be harmful to the average persons' well being. The following is not to diminish fears that we are on that well traveled path, but rather to contemplate how far this road to ruin goes. Destination: Ukraine. And there are more horror stories out there about the states of the former Soviet Union. It is a long way to Kiev, but I certainly hope the future generations of Americans do not get anywhere near there.

Nowhere....

Recently saw and heard a native american story teller at the Adirondack Park Interpretive Center. He is fantastic. Particularly I loved his stories of "How Bird Got His Song" and "How Chipmunk Got His Stripes". Recently Dervala told us of the gaelic equivalent called a Seanchaí . Do other cultures have such "occupations" and what are they called?

2003-10-22T13:29:00.000-04:00

Here....

Yippeee, going on a field trip today. Feel like a kid in elementary school. No, not the parish school mentioned below...rather the public school with the ever so nice Mrs. Teverbault. My colleagues and I are getting a tutorial on the NY State Library. Its a fun place, really!!!! Their are so many treasures in its research collection. The archival collection of NY newpapers and other documents is overwhelming. But today we get the latest on the on-line capabilitities. But it still feels like going on a field trip...no phones, no faxes, no emails, no urgents.......just time to get an update and soak in some of the history of the Empire state. Since my colleagues, the librarians and I are all actually part of the same agency, the NYS Education Department, I am expecting a very cordial reception. And the librarians aren't the stereotypical curmudgeons that pop into your mind. Make sure you scroll down to "The Library". Don't you just love Sarah Stewart's books, so nicely illustrated by David Small? Another favorite by Stewart is "The Money Tree", I think this story is Sarah's yin to Martha's yang. Can't you just picture Martha interacting with s bunch of yuppie designer kids!

School memories are definitley in the head today and it truly is a day of returning to the thrilling days of yesteryear. The staff were getting our annual flu shots today. Felt like going to the school nurse, jokin' and foolin' in line, the false bravado of the males, checking out the cute nurse. Only thing that was missing was a lollipop at the end of the ordeal.

There....

I had an amazing episode of the visual kind, this one man-made. I went to see the film, "Magdalene Sisters". This was one of the most disturbing films I have seen in recent years. I put it in the class dark films such as "Schindlers List" ,"The Red Cherry", "The Mission" and "Black Robe". I think in part it was disturbing to me because I could see and feel the searing image of my chief nemesis, my first grade teacher, in the face of Sister Bridget. She, Sister Mary Zita, terrified me so badly I used to pee in my pants(literally). This film reinforces why I no longer go thru the rituals of my childhood brainwashing. I do admit saying a few Hail Mary's when in extreme circumstances...sort of my hedge fund of spiritual investment!!!!! And do attend the obligatory catholic weddings and funerals of my family. I reacted to this film much the same way I reacted to the book "Angela's Ashes". First a feeling of how this hits close to home, and then feeling shame to be an American of Irish catholic heritage. But then that subsides and I realize the ordeal strengthens my connection to my roots. In a more mature and realistic way. I never was one for the green bowler hats, the green beer, and the kiss me I'm Irish hokum that is so prevalent in the northeast of the USA. And my travels in Ireland skipped the tourists traps and truly was more about being among the people...especially in the rural areas. But I do feel there is a connection to its people and their homeland......

Nowhere....

Where is Bill Lee when Red Sox nation needs a dose of him? My all time favorite ball player, (who else would a southpaw, geek, zen reading, recovering catholic, lefty idolize as the epitome of the art of baseball?) has come to our rescue. The "Spaceman" returns in glory.

Fifi - Françoise Demulder, is in need. Perhaps you can help, and purchase some fine photography.

2003-10-21T12:53:00.000-04:00

HERE....

More about Tim O'Brien and his discussion of July,July. Tim was asked about having difficulty writing about women...the piece he read was about breast cancer and a womans life. This piece had been excerpted in the New Yorker. In answer, he said that he had always written about men, particualrly soldiers within the context of his life, and it took a while for him to get into a "woman's skin". The questioner asked if he had recieved any feed back about this piece in the New Yorker. Surprisingly, he said he had gotten tons of mail on it, from survivors...in fact he had gotten more mail about it than any other piece he has written. Which when you think about the subject of "Things They Carried" and the many who were effected by that war..it is truly amazing that his writing had that effect on this other subset of humanity. And he indicated that it was a very positive response and that it effected him deeply.

There....

Continuing on the theme from yesterdays blog about Red Square, the more thing change the more the stay the same.....for instance in La Paz. The indiginous peoples have been exploited by and fighting with outsiders since the time of the Incas. The Aymara Indians are among the poorest people in all of South America. And they are tired of having their mineral wealth stolen. And they do not trust the ruling elite who they know will take the lion's share....as well of some of the lambs' share as many of them are shepherds. They seem to remember the treachery and butchery of Pizarro and also the methods of Francisco de Toledo, who subverted the preColumbian mita to extract forced labor for the silver mines. Adult males could be required to spend every sixth year working in the mines. Silver declined, then tin was exploited and declined, then it was Standard Oil with its trickery, and now they got the discomfort and bloating of gas. So I guess they must have a "PR" problem down in La Paz, cause the Aymarra indians living up the hill in El Alto don't believe them anymore. Maybe the white house spin masters can teach the new Bolivian ministers the use of smoke and mirrors. Christ the indio people don't even have Al Franken to help set them straight. Oh wait, they don't need no stinking gringo......they already know the scoop, errr, poop. And took matter into their own hands. Things have been the same for a long long time....1500's in this case.

But wait, we have movement in an even longer conflict over exploitation......the Brits have decided to hold an election in the north of Ireland...when you get to that site, click on the "Troubles" and then on the "Timeline before 1970"...got one going back 800 years. Have things changed in todays world?

Nowhere....

The Kyoto accords have been ratified by 119 countries by the end of last month. But since the USA had not, only 44.2% of worldwide emmissions are covered by the accord. But hey, Chile and Argentina are on board.....guess they can see the ice sheets melting just to their south. How long will the american people be asleep at the wheel of their SUV's? Who knows...maybe Haliburton is planning to rent out offshore oil rigs to the elite as vacation hideaways when the oceans cover enough land. Now that is global positioning!!!! And maybe Pat Robertson has bought up the rigths to Water World

2003-10-20T17:22:00.000-04:00

Here....

Last week, I listened to Anne Garrels speak over in Manchester, Vermont sponsored by the Northshire Bookstore. She was doing a book tour thing for her new book, "Naked in Baghdad"and was in tiny Manchester, I think because her college roommate works/manages "The Vermont Country Store". It was interesting to learn that it was only her Vermont friend that was giving her resonance on how her dispatches were playing back in America on NPR. Gee, it seems little old Vermont is having an inordinate influence on the rest of the country lately.

I came away from the presentation appreciating more and more the importance of freedom of the press. And how much is owed to the many journalists who put themselves in difficult and dangerous positions to help preserve this precious part of our democracy. The importance should be recognized now, so we never have to say....."don't know what we got till it is gone". During her talk, Ms. Garrels, compared the Iraqi's feelings about Saddam and his aftermath to the feelings of the Russian people about Stalin and his aftermath upon his death. Sort of a love-hate thing...with a longing for stability of a tyrant and fear of what comes next vs. a loathing of the police state and the atrocities he placed on them.

There....

Bill Moyers program on PBS continues to amaze me.....finally, a programs of intellectual honesty that speaks to my ideals of government. The latest episode boosting my morale was the one with Samantha Powers
Can you believe it.... Irish, human rights journalist and a Red Sox fan.

Nowhere....

Do you have a favorite folkloric method for predicting seasonal climatic conditions? Is it strange to be infatuated with weather?

2003-10-20T16:16:00.000-04:00

HERE....
As I dip my toe into this pool of potentially toxic stew, my INFP is doing the tango in my guts. But the excitement of breaking out of my self constructed box, cage, caccoon, eutopia, hell, playroom, stage, sanctum...is pushing me deeper into this new world. My finger is looking to find the delete key, but my mind keeps saying...... "go for the gusto!" Ok, in to at least my ankle tops.

Last saturday attended reading and book signing of Tom O'Brien at the Northshire Bookstore in Manchester Vermont. Wasn't sure what to expect. What a gifted speaker, as well as writer. His reading from July, July had me enraptured, waiting for more, amazed at his gift of words. And the question and answer was just as entertaining. Part of this was because of the insightful and probing questions from the audience. The answers were detailed and articulated with a careful cadence and art of a master word crafter. The Northshire is a wonderful place, bringing great contemporary authors to a small audience in an intimate setting....just like the town meetings of Vermont. Thank goodness for Vermont and the cagy, old yankees who have inspired many of the the newcomers from "away". Maybe some of this spirit is what is driving a new generation to respond to Vermonts' Dean?

THERE....
Thanks has to go out to Dervala for getting me this far. And Christiane too for encouraging me, yet warning me of its addictive nature. And to MO who is doing wonders for a free press in a far-off land, but must remain hidden for good reasons. Note to self = I must remember to not get so link happy. Well here is another one, inspiration also came from the new sight of Halley and her affiliation with bloggercon.

The USA Eagles defeated the New Zealand All-Blacks in a david and goliath remake.

NOWHERE....
Did you catch the "Paul McCartney in Red Square" Broadcast? Did it give you goose bumps...about how the world is so fundamentally changed, yet how it is still the same? How does one record music on an x-ray negative? Is the resourcefullness of the soviet people, coping with the stifling planned economy, as honed/effective as the creativity of unfettered capitalism and market economy which is so ballyhooed in the west?

And a question of all you fellow memebers of Red Sox Nation, especially those also dwelling in Pataki's kingdom, do you feel as proud as I, that our favorite team, and the Cubbies, energized so many people to the excitement that baseball can generate and tie generations of fans together? As all true Bosox fans know how to say and truly believe....."Wait till next year!!!!"