TO MY SONS
A tribute to my two sons who stood up and served their time in the U.S. military. I thank them for doing what they saw as their duty to all of us by giving a portion of their lifes to the necessary work of defending our good country.
I am eternally grateful to God that I was able to see them come home again all in one piece and be able to tell them Thank you for going and more importantly, to a lot of concerned people, coming back. My first son served ten years in the U.S Air Force and my second son retired from the U.S Army, after two tours in Iraq. Both had done their duty and a whole lot more.
They both made up for their fathers less than illustrious career in the military. I was rated somewhere between Sad Sack, the lifetime private, and Beetle Baily, the sargents all the time nemesis. I sometimes enjoyed my lackluster military career, but no one stood in my way trying to get me to re-enlist, try to figure.
My sons though did themselves proud and their mother and I applaud them for it.
With Love,
Your parents
For your enjoyment we arranged a little musical concert in your honor....they're a little late, but I think I hear them coming...Enjoy.
March 31, 2008
March 30, 2008
Listening to the WRITERS ALMANAC with Garrison Keillor, I was treated with this poem by Kate Dicamillo. I really like it because it's touching number one, and secondly, and sorta secretly (from whom I don't know) I would like to have a dog like Aldo that could be a friend. Truth be known, I'm too old and getting too fussy to have to tend to a dog anymore I am sorry to say.
Snow, Aldo
Once, I was in New York,
in Central Park, and I saw
an old man in a black overcoat walking
a black dog. This was springtime
and the trees were still
bare and the sky was
gray and low and it began, suddenly,
to snow:
big fat flakes
that twirled and landed on the
black of the man's overcoat and
the black dog's fur. The dog
lifted his face and stared
up at the sky. The man looked
up, too. "Snow, Aldo," he said to the dog,
"snow." And he laughed.
The dog looked
at him and wagged his tail.
If I was in charge of making
snow globes, this is what I would put inside:
the old man in the black overcoat,
the black dog,
two friends with their faces turned up to the sky
as if they were receiving a blessing,
as if they were being blessed together
by something
as simple as snow
in March.
Snow, Aldo
Once, I was in New York,
in Central Park, and I saw
an old man in a black overcoat walking
a black dog. This was springtime
and the trees were still
bare and the sky was
gray and low and it began, suddenly,
to snow:
big fat flakes
that twirled and landed on the
black of the man's overcoat and
the black dog's fur. The dog
lifted his face and stared
up at the sky. The man looked
up, too. "Snow, Aldo," he said to the dog,
"snow." And he laughed.
The dog looked
at him and wagged his tail.
If I was in charge of making
snow globes, this is what I would put inside:
the old man in the black overcoat,
the black dog,
two friends with their faces turned up to the sky
as if they were receiving a blessing,
as if they were being blessed together
by something
as simple as snow
in March.
March 28, 2008
WII put out by Nintendo has found an unexpected market in senior citizens. Nursing homes and the like have found they are very popular taking the place of standard exercising and making it fun. Here is a small video showing it in action and you can see the amount of movement they use and how good it would be for the elderly. They include five sports: tennis, baseball, bowling, golf, and boxing.
March 27, 2008
HOMETOWN ABSTRACTS
First Edition
My hometown is a medium sized town of approximately 55,000 people, located in the north central section of Ohio. The name of the town is Mansfield, named after Jared Mansfield, the surveyor general in 1808. It is located geographically in the western foothills of the Allegheny Plateau in the county of Richland, named literally because of it rich fertile soil.
When I arrived on the scene in the thirties, Mansfield was a manufacturing center with many heavy industries thriving, the biggest being Westinghouse corporation and Tappan Stove company among many others. The town thrived until sometime in the seventies when the steel recession caused many of the industries to move to other countries or to the south because of cost incentives. They never returned and Mansfielders had to become somewhat innovative and change from a manufacturing base to a service based economy.
I too left my hometown in the fifties, but returned in the early seventies. We may leave our hometowns for economic gain, but that feeling for the place of our birth and the simple life instilled right or wrong in our brains seems somehow to draw us back. The moves back are highly personal in each case and sometimes it works out, and sometimes it doesn't. In my case it was a right move.
First Edition
My hometown is a medium sized town of approximately 55,000 people, located in the north central section of Ohio. The name of the town is Mansfield, named after Jared Mansfield, the surveyor general in 1808. It is located geographically in the western foothills of the Allegheny Plateau in the county of Richland, named literally because of it rich fertile soil.
When I arrived on the scene in the thirties, Mansfield was a manufacturing center with many heavy industries thriving, the biggest being Westinghouse corporation and Tappan Stove company among many others. The town thrived until sometime in the seventies when the steel recession caused many of the industries to move to other countries or to the south because of cost incentives. They never returned and Mansfielders had to become somewhat innovative and change from a manufacturing base to a service based economy.
I too left my hometown in the fifties, but returned in the early seventies. We may leave our hometowns for economic gain, but that feeling for the place of our birth and the simple life instilled right or wrong in our brains seems somehow to draw us back. The moves back are highly personal in each case and sometimes it works out, and sometimes it doesn't. In my case it was a right move.
March 25, 2008
Now that Spring is officially here even though it doesn't look like it just yet, the school kids are looking at having to pay back for all those snow days off school they accumulated during the past winter. They will have to go a little longer into the Spring so everything comes out even for school accountibility.
But as I remember it was all worth it. I wrote this a while ago while I was remembering those good old snow days.
SNOW DAYS
I was not then, nor am I now an avid fan of winter.
Except, ahh, except for the exhilaration of joy I often felt upon awakening after a crisp coldness had descended upon us overnight.
The morning sun breaking through the gray snow sky revealing an unscarred layer of whiteness covering earth’s imperfections was almost my first awareness of what beauty is. The crisp coldness caused the newly fallen snow to sparkle like diamonds, free for the picking. A stirring from deep inside made me spring out of my warm cozy bed onto the cold morning floor immune to the discomfort, and fully aware of what could lie ahead as a result of Mother Nature’s overnight gift to a boy of ten years. Young yes; a scholar, no; a snow day? Yes! Yes! Maybe.
The furnace’s morning stoking and poking and fueling with an ample supply of coal was returning the favor by filling my moms kitchen with its unforgettable and pleasant aroma and heat. The smell of perking coffee, and the sight of the newly buttered toast enhanced those aromatic pleasures. On mornings like these, my mother, a true believer in the medicinal values of food would also prepare oatmeal for me. A properly nourished body, she would always say, is the proper way to begin a day. Oh God, What a great day this is going to be, the word had just come over the radio, “SCHOOL WAS CANCELLED BECAUSE OF THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW”.
On mornings such as these, when the fates had smiled on us and piled drifts of snow in our driveways and against our backdoors, I could not wait to get out into it. Of course, my moms job would not be done until she made sure I was covered with seventeen layers of protective clothing, or at least it seemed that many. Then I was sprung loose into a world of boys and sleds and imagination.
Boys, little boys, young boys, evidently don’t have a built in device running from their bodies to their brains telling them they were getting mighty cold now. They just continued on and on and on, like the energizer bunny until, in the method of the day, their mothers would open the door and yell for them to come home for lunch. How I wonder, no matter how far away we were, we always seemed to hear them.
I would arrive at the back door which led into the kitchen, and after working to remove my frozen boots from my frozen feet with my frozen hands, I would stand on the floor register, and let the glorious coal heat cover my body with its thawing, life restoring warmth. How I and my boyhood chums did not lose fingers or toes from frostbite, I’ll never know, because after a short time standing on the register, my feet would begin to hurt and sting.
But soon a bowl of soup and maybe a sandwich would appear, the radio would be broadcasting a soap opera, and everything would be right. In my mind today, almost sixty years later, I can still feel the discomfort of the snow, but the comfort I feel from remembering those days and that kitchen and that time diminishes mere physical pain.
I will always have that kitchen, and those glorious snow days, and that caring mom with me as comfort and remembrance to call upon when age begins to lay heavily on me.
But as I remember it was all worth it. I wrote this a while ago while I was remembering those good old snow days.
SNOW DAYS
I was not then, nor am I now an avid fan of winter.
Except, ahh, except for the exhilaration of joy I often felt upon awakening after a crisp coldness had descended upon us overnight.
The morning sun breaking through the gray snow sky revealing an unscarred layer of whiteness covering earth’s imperfections was almost my first awareness of what beauty is. The crisp coldness caused the newly fallen snow to sparkle like diamonds, free for the picking. A stirring from deep inside made me spring out of my warm cozy bed onto the cold morning floor immune to the discomfort, and fully aware of what could lie ahead as a result of Mother Nature’s overnight gift to a boy of ten years. Young yes; a scholar, no; a snow day? Yes! Yes! Maybe.
The furnace’s morning stoking and poking and fueling with an ample supply of coal was returning the favor by filling my moms kitchen with its unforgettable and pleasant aroma and heat. The smell of perking coffee, and the sight of the newly buttered toast enhanced those aromatic pleasures. On mornings like these, my mother, a true believer in the medicinal values of food would also prepare oatmeal for me. A properly nourished body, she would always say, is the proper way to begin a day. Oh God, What a great day this is going to be, the word had just come over the radio, “SCHOOL WAS CANCELLED BECAUSE OF THE BEAUTIFUL SNOW”.
On mornings such as these, when the fates had smiled on us and piled drifts of snow in our driveways and against our backdoors, I could not wait to get out into it. Of course, my moms job would not be done until she made sure I was covered with seventeen layers of protective clothing, or at least it seemed that many. Then I was sprung loose into a world of boys and sleds and imagination.
Boys, little boys, young boys, evidently don’t have a built in device running from their bodies to their brains telling them they were getting mighty cold now. They just continued on and on and on, like the energizer bunny until, in the method of the day, their mothers would open the door and yell for them to come home for lunch. How I wonder, no matter how far away we were, we always seemed to hear them.
I would arrive at the back door which led into the kitchen, and after working to remove my frozen boots from my frozen feet with my frozen hands, I would stand on the floor register, and let the glorious coal heat cover my body with its thawing, life restoring warmth. How I and my boyhood chums did not lose fingers or toes from frostbite, I’ll never know, because after a short time standing on the register, my feet would begin to hurt and sting.
But soon a bowl of soup and maybe a sandwich would appear, the radio would be broadcasting a soap opera, and everything would be right. In my mind today, almost sixty years later, I can still feel the discomfort of the snow, but the comfort I feel from remembering those days and that kitchen and that time diminishes mere physical pain.
I will always have that kitchen, and those glorious snow days, and that caring mom with me as comfort and remembrance to call upon when age begins to lay heavily on me.
Re-watched a 1941 movie titled: THE DEVIL AND DANIEL WEBSTER starring Edward Arnold, Walter Huston, James Craig, Ann Harding and the actress who made a very good living playing mothers in some very good movies, Jane Darwell. One of her more memorible mother roles was as Ma Joad in GRAPES OF WRATH.
I really enjoy this movie. It is a morality tale set in New England about a farmer who in a moment of despair says he would sell his soul to the devil for two cents. The devil, Huston, takes him up on it, and the rest of the movie is him enjoying the fruits of his unthinking bargain with the devil until it comes time to pay up.
A good movie in black and white with other character actors you may recognize. Simone Simon plays a woman who also has sold her soul to the devil and has been brought back from the depths to tempt James Craig in his downfall, as if he needed any help.
If I have a choice of a good colored film or a black and white film, I will always take the non-colored film. The finished product always seems more intimate and it seems to take the viewer deeper into the action. (Now that sounds really convuluted and bogus, but I know what I mean, I just can't seem to be able to spit it out). If you're a film fan I'm sure you know what I'm talking about.
March 24, 2008
Recently I viewed a recording of AFI (American Film Institutes) top 100 films of all time. Now I agreed with most of the picks. Most were just great films, and some were controversial at the time, but all were darn good. I'm not belaboring any of the picks, but I would like to add a few more rather elderly films which I think are as good now many years after their premiers as they were new.
The oldest film is METROPOLIS 1926. A really great silent film that has moments that are memorable. The picture is a look at the future where the rich live above ground and enjoy life in the sun; and the workers live below ground in their own world. One of the scenes I remember vividly is the shift change when the workers line up not unlike robots in formation and enter and exit elevators that take them to their homes and/or workplace. It is dramatic and unforgettable.
ON BORROWED TIME 1939, a film with the great actor Lionel Barrymore and a kid actor with the great name Bobs Watson who lives with his grandparents because his parents were killed in an accident. Sir Cedrick Hardwick who plays Mr. Death comes to take grandpa Lionel to heaven which would devistate Bobs the grandchild so they devise a plan to trap Mr. Death in a tree so his beloved grandpa will not have to go without him. I won't tell you anymore, but I loved the film and now have it on disk for another viewing when I'm in the mood.
THE SHOP AROUND THE CORNER 1940, another film that I think is absolutely great, stars James Stewart, Margaret Sullivan, Frank Morgan and an actor with an amusing voice William Tracy.
It takes place in a notions shop in Budapest and the main plot is about two people, Jimmy and Margaret who are lonely and are corresponding with people they have never seen. Of course they end up with each other, but it takes a while to get to that ending, and getting there is sheer joy, at least for me. The actors are great, the story is gentle, almost a fairy tale rendering. Of course Jimmy Stewart never did put on a bad performance that I can remember.
March 22, 2008
Some people are so clever. I found this site accidentally like I do a lot of sites. I couldn't resist sticking my ugly mug on one of those pages. The picture was taken at Malabar State park, a favorite place of my wife and I.
Computers are great company and can be a lot of fun.
Computers are great company and can be a lot of fun.
Create Fake Magazine Covers with your own picture at MagMyPic.com
Discount Magazine Subscriptions - Save big!
Spring arrived here in Ohio a couple days ago along with newly emerging daffodils. But Spring being Spring, especially in Ohio, we now have snow back on the ground. My wife assures me that even though it does not look like spring, the sun is higher in the sky and a little warmth eminates from it, so patience is the keyword for winter-weary Buckeyes. A little Cat Stevens music and a video of what we will see soon will have to suffice for now. Enjoy.
March 21, 2008
Do I love this story?
http://money.cnn.com/2008/03/07/pf/sivy_apr.moneymag/index.htm?section=money_topstories
You bet I do. It just seems too right though to be something that could actually come to pass.
But with Buffet buying up stock you have to know it might be a serious story. Read the article, it touches on all the reasons why it is the right thing to do. The number one thing that I immediately thought of was fuel efficiency. It's about time someone put their money where their mouth is.
The government for years has had a hand in our national transit system Amtrac and have done nothing more about it, while the oil cartels in the Mid-East gouge us more each week, and our pols (stated with a sneer) talk about us regaining our oil independence from OPEC with words that have not one lick of credibility.
Starting rail systems to handle some of our commuting would rid the street of a lot of traffic and conversely a lot of gas consumption. My state of Ohio governor Strickland has stated he would like to consider establishing a high-speed rail system throughout the state. Sounds fantastic to me on one hand, but being a political realist, I know this won't ever happen. What really ticks me is not so much that the weak link is money raising, but the sneaking suspicion that the pols don't mean a word of it.
It would help solve too many current problems to have any chance of succeeding.
http://money.cnn.com/2008/03/07/pf/sivy_apr.moneymag/index.htm?section=money_topstories
You bet I do. It just seems too right though to be something that could actually come to pass.
But with Buffet buying up stock you have to know it might be a serious story. Read the article, it touches on all the reasons why it is the right thing to do. The number one thing that I immediately thought of was fuel efficiency. It's about time someone put their money where their mouth is.
The government for years has had a hand in our national transit system Amtrac and have done nothing more about it, while the oil cartels in the Mid-East gouge us more each week, and our pols (stated with a sneer) talk about us regaining our oil independence from OPEC with words that have not one lick of credibility.
Starting rail systems to handle some of our commuting would rid the street of a lot of traffic and conversely a lot of gas consumption. My state of Ohio governor Strickland has stated he would like to consider establishing a high-speed rail system throughout the state. Sounds fantastic to me on one hand, but being a political realist, I know this won't ever happen. What really ticks me is not so much that the weak link is money raising, but the sneaking suspicion that the pols don't mean a word of it.
It would help solve too many current problems to have any chance of succeeding.
These two moments from two of America's best, where it seemed that they were thinking and talking on the same subjects in the 1950's. It seems rather prophetic about events that took place here in my country in the first decade of the twenty first century.
Along with that, Senator Hagel this week is coming to the conclusion that perhaps it is the time for a third party, a party for men and women of more independent thinking to be thought of more seriously than ever before. Here is the piece from Google video:
Along with that, Senator Hagel this week is coming to the conclusion that perhaps it is the time for a third party, a party for men and women of more independent thinking to be thought of more seriously than ever before. Here is the piece from Google video:
March 19, 2008
March 17, 2008
Weather-wise things are pretty much back to normal. The snow is still visible in patches in our yards. Here in my hometown the snow set a record at 19 inches. In my backyard and driveway the yardstick registered 21 inches. Way deep enough and way cold enough, to paraphrase our hippie friends, and way miserable enough to last me for a long time.
I was reminded of this little piece I wrote some years back:
ALMOST THERE
The door slams behind me, loud in the quiet night,
Winter moonlight bathes the tundra
Work boots crunch a frigid cadence
Diamonds in the snow sparkle its fools gold
Do not linger
Silent eternity awaits the foolish
The cold invades my clothing
Quicker the crunching sound
I must hurry; I must hurry
The wind arrives unexpected as death
Snow swirling, envelopes me in white sheets
I’ve lost my way, make a quick back track while I may
Tears spring unbidden from my eyes and turn to ice
I must hurry
My tracks are being covered, but I know it’s this way
Yes I know I’m right
Crunch; crunch
Quickly, the enemy panic arrives
Faster; faster
I can’t see, should I go ahead, or back or
Oh God, help me
I’m so tired
There, under that tree I’ll wait
I’ll wait and think
It has to stop soon
I’ll rest and wait
I hope my love will forgive me for being late
I’ll just close my eyes for a moment
I was reminded of this little piece I wrote some years back:
ALMOST THERE
The door slams behind me, loud in the quiet night,
Winter moonlight bathes the tundra
Work boots crunch a frigid cadence
Diamonds in the snow sparkle its fools gold
Do not linger
Silent eternity awaits the foolish
The cold invades my clothing
Quicker the crunching sound
I must hurry; I must hurry
The wind arrives unexpected as death
Snow swirling, envelopes me in white sheets
I’ve lost my way, make a quick back track while I may
Tears spring unbidden from my eyes and turn to ice
I must hurry
My tracks are being covered, but I know it’s this way
Yes I know I’m right
Crunch; crunch
Quickly, the enemy panic arrives
Faster; faster
I can’t see, should I go ahead, or back or
Oh God, help me
I’m so tired
There, under that tree I’ll wait
I’ll wait and think
It has to stop soon
I’ll rest and wait
I hope my love will forgive me for being late
I’ll just close my eyes for a moment
March 15, 2008
March 14, 2008
March 13, 2008
I tend to believe this snapshot of polled information. My reasoning for believing it is that kids today are born into the computer culture and don't have any thresholds to cross over before they become comfortable with the electronic wonder. They use it as soon as they can understand if you punch a button the following will happen in games. They use computers from kindergarten on.
We older folks at first had to understand that if we pushed the wrong button, the world would not explode, and then it's a slow transition to feeling comfortable with the whole concept. Not to say that older folks cannot become computer nerds, but for kids they're born into it and absorb it like sponges.
TAKE FIVE.
It's been a while since I've listened to this Dave Brubeck classic so todays the day. Here's a little history:
Dave Brubeck is one of the most well-known jazz pianists of all time. The classic Dave Brubeck Quartet featuring Paul Desmond's liquid saxophone lasted for 17 years, during which time they produced the first ever million-selling jazz tune (Take Five), toured the world many times, and introduced enormous numbers of people to the jazz sound. But Brubeck is not one to get stuck in a rut, and since the original quartet disbanded over thirty six years ago, he has continued to develop as a musician, exploring new avenues in composition and performance. He is still touring, and still releasing albums, at the age of 84.
It's been a while since I've listened to this Dave Brubeck classic so todays the day. Here's a little history:
Dave Brubeck is one of the most well-known jazz pianists of all time. The classic Dave Brubeck Quartet featuring Paul Desmond's liquid saxophone lasted for 17 years, during which time they produced the first ever million-selling jazz tune (Take Five), toured the world many times, and introduced enormous numbers of people to the jazz sound. But Brubeck is not one to get stuck in a rut, and since the original quartet disbanded over thirty six years ago, he has continued to develop as a musician, exploring new avenues in composition and performance. He is still touring, and still releasing albums, at the age of 84.
March 12, 2008
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