Corcavado, Rio de Janeiro

He lay naked on the bed dragging on a Marlboro staring out his window, looking along the Avenedia Copacabana towards Corcavado withe the Cristo Rendentor  statue all lit up looking down on Rio with His arms outstretched looking to embrace all who lived there in His loving arms. He wondered how Cristo could love the city he always was looking at when the city seemingly was always rejecting him. He drew in a deep gulp of smoke before he snuffed out the cigarette in the ash tray that was on the bedside end table. He sat on the side of the bed and still in the dark he lifted the small bottle of Scotch that he took from the refrigerator and let the distinctive scotch taste with the alcoholic sting swivel in his mouth before he swallowed it. He lay back and lit another Marlboro dragging in the warm smoke as he let his gaze drift towards The Hunchback mountain looking directly at Cristo Rendentor.

They had just made love for the last time. She was warm, soft and wonderful to the touch. The evening started out so great, they professed their undying love and couldn't contain themselves until they got to his room. Their love was unbridled, furious and passionate. Afterwards they lay exhausted in each other's arms happily content in their love for one another. They began to speak of their lives which was certainly going to change for the better he thought. He was still married but was in the middle of a messy divorce agreement. He assured her that he was committed only to her and as soon as the divorce was final they could get married. Once he mentioned that he noticed a distinct change in her whole composure, she froze.

She tried to explain that before they could even think of something as permanent as marriage they had to get to know each other better. He tried to get her to open up and let him in to her life, what had made her the person she was but she resisted. She finally said she could never commit solely to him because she had loves in her life that would always claim a part of her. She would be happy to be with him but he had to know that she could never be his a hundred percent but when she would be with him then their world would only be theirs. When she left him to go wherever she had to go then he would be excluded until they could meet again. She was asking him to accept her without question or restriction and she placed no restrictions on him.

He explained that it was bad enough to be going through a divorce which was like a death, but to have to choose between letting her go or accepting what seemed like an untenable relationship only added to the agony. Finally they embraced and wept because they knew that this affair had come to an end and there is nothing sadder than a love affair that dies. He watched her as she dressed. She reached the door turned and said, "I'll always love you.", to which he replied "And I, you!". As the door shut leaving him alone in the room he wondered how anyone could still love when the rejection was full and complete.

He was laying on the bed looking out his window at Corcavado, Cristo Rendentor contemplating this very thought and then he realized that the rejection Cristo must have felt did not stop him from loving the very ones, the very place rejecting him but only made Him love them more, as it must be in this case where his one true love rejected him forever yet he couldn't stop loving her for the rest of his life.

Macy's Thanksgiving Parade 2015, and 50 Years Ago

He wasn't quite sure how he got here, the year 2015 but he did. He was in front of his TV which showed the Macy's Day Parade with all the crowd yelling and screaming with delight  as the great balloons went by and performers performed while the bands played. As he watched his mind transported him some 50 years into the past when he brought some of his kids to the Macy's Day Parade. He and his wife had 7 children but the year was somewhere around 1967 0r 68 and only 3 for sure could go definitely not the twins or the last son they had of five in a row. But his wife was preparing the Thanksgiving feast for both their families and need a break and he had his office on the eight floor at the corner of 46th. Street and Broadway in New York City.
The parade would pass right by his window and the balloons would seem close enough to touch. The balloons of 2015 were not the balloons of that day which included his favorite Popeye.

The weather was not kind that day. Some slushy snow was on the streets as the temperature would only climb to the low 40's Fahrenheit. The kids were excited as they rode the subways, the Number 7 line into Times Square. He couldn't remember if he brought breakfast at the luncheonette in the same building in his office or that was the time he brought them into the automat, Horn and Hardart. He did remember that when he did bring them to H & H their eyes widened as they were amazed at the whole set up of such a place. Google it and you who are not familiar with the automat will understand why a kid would be awed by it.

He remembered going into his office which was the company's New York International office of American International Pictures. It covered the whole floor and once again the kids were awed by the desks, the offices the telephones and they proceeded to run all over the place discovering new things, making phone call maybe, getting into desks. No matter how he tried he couldn't get them to come to the window to see this great spectacle. Suddenly Popeye was upon his street so he made them come and see it but as soon as it past they went around exploring the office.

One of the salesmen, Bill Moroski called from Mexico and one of the kids answered, finally he took the call and explained it was Thanksgiving and the Office was closed. He cracked up and said he'd call tomorrow. Finally Santa was on the way and he made them stay at the window while Santa passed. He remembered it was a great moment, for him, but not for the kids they returned to upsetting the office amid his screams, of "I'm never doing this again". And he didn't. But as he came back into the present he wished he would have done it again.

Now a half a century later he wished he could have his children small and young and full of awe at all the things that they saw for the first time. His 7 children are alive and well but they are fully grown up and the children of awe and wonder who looked towards mom and dad are no longer around. Mom was no longer around and hadn't been for almost 8 years as she passed away after a long battle with Alzheimer's. The kids today have their own kids who are mostly young adults and one of their kids has a kid of her own which makes him a great-grandfather. He loves them all greatly. He misses her greatly.

As the Macy's Day Parade of 2015 is nearing its end with Santa approaching getting ready to enter Macy's Department store he realized he had a great life and much to be thankful for, yet, it would be nice to have those days with the youth and excitement and love that his life was enveloped in once more. A chance to hold his kids in his arms, to kiss his wife once more and share a life that was full of love, awe and expectations yet to be fulfilled.

   

Nothing is Impossible to the Saint of the impossible, JUDE

It was back in 1952 or was it 53, what the hell it was some time ago that I first heard of St. Jude. I had just taken this delicious young lady named Delores Hertel to see "Guys and Dolls" which starred Robert Alda, that's correct the father of Alan Alda, Hawk-eye of Mash TV fame, and was brushed off because she had a beau in the Navy fighting the Korean War. She wanted to see the play more than she wanted to see me, but I think she had a crush on both of us. Shortly after we went our different ways I heard she was being operated on for a brain tumor which was pretty serious back then, pretty serious right now too. I was looking at the bleak future she might have if she had any future at all when I got something in the mail.

It was a tract from a Church in New York City all about a novena to a Saint called Jude who was supposed to be the Patron Saint of impossible causes. I read it closely and quite frankly thought this was a lot of bunk, propaganda, used by the church to raise money. But then I heard that she had to have this operation that was sure to leave her in very poor shape for the rest of her life if it didn't kill her. So being the pragmatic person I am I figured what the hell I might as well give this Saint a try because from all I had been hearing this was really an impossible case and she was so young, beautiful and maybe she'd go out with me after she recovered if this hokum really worked.

I made the novena, and prayed the prayers. She was operated on and there was a time that things looked bad, very bad. BUT she survived and had no after-effects. And I wish I could say that we went out afterwards and had a great love affair, hot and heavy but I can't say that because we never saw each other again but she married, had kids and for all I know is still alive probably never thinking of me again. But through her I met this great Saint Jude, Patron of Impossible cases. I never lost track of him and he never lost track of me. He always answered my prayers, quicker in the young days of our friendship than now that our friendship has aged and he is no longer "The Forgotten Saint". Our first born was named after him and it was a good choice because if anyone was an impossible case my first born son was/is. He has guided him well through many an impossible storm to quite a good life, but he still has to watch him carefully.

I like to kid Saint Jude that when we first met and he wasn't as popular he had more time for me but now his plate is more than full he sort of pushes me to the rear but I know and he knows that my life keeps getting more complex as I age and I have aged quite a bit and my choices have become increasingly more complex than ever but Saint Jude is working on their resolution not only for my benefit but for the people and situations I am praying for.

Since today is October 27, his feast day, I thought I should wish him a sort of Happy Feast (Birthday) Day and pay him some tribute before my world, before I meet him face to face. And if any of you reading this have a pretty difficult, shall we say "Impossible" problem you can borrow my Saint he has time for everyone.

   

Should A Muslim Be President?

The liberal media has become so "politically correct" that speaking obvious truths is becoming an open minefield for those in the political limelight. Dr. Ben Carson, the neurosurgeon turned Republican challenger for President of these United States has said he could not support a Muslim for the president of the United States. He was immediately criticized for being racist which led him to explain that he was referring to one who embraced Sharia law over the Constitution and American values. Under Sharia law women are put down and mistreated, homosexuals are put to death and you could lose a hand if you committed a theft and this is just a few of the despicable things Sharia law embraces.

By the way Dr. Carson did not say he would prohibit a Muslim from running for the office he just said he could not support him. Is it so terrible to voice one's opinion concerning whom he would or would not support? I don't think so especially if the reasons given have some truth behind them and that he isn't just blowing some wind to roil the waters.

Many years ago John F. Kennedy ran into trouble from our citizens because being Catholic gave some pause that he would be under control of the Pope. The Pope is also the head of state as well as being the head of The Roman Catholic Church. Allaying the fears Kennedy made a great speech wherein he made it clear that He was NOT under the political direction of the Pope in any way, shape or form. He made it clear that he would be guided by American law, the US Constitution as well as American morals.

Considering the fact that we have very troubling Muslim groups such as ISIS recruiting some of our citizens and their main objective is to destroy our way of life why is it so terrible to have a Muslim reject that part of Sharia law that is violent and embrace our Constitution, laws and values if that Muslim wants to run for the office of President of these United States? Therefore if a Muslim would get in the running for President a similar speech, like John F. Kennedy made, would have to be made in order for me to support him.

 I think this is called the vetting process, this questioning of one's values, patriotism and policies, raising questions that should, must be asked. A simple way of removing all the fears would be for the modern Muslim community to come together and make it clear that all aspects of Sharia law are not accepted by the Muslim community world wide. You know, like letting people be who they want to be, like Gays, like doing away with the subjugation of women and acknowledging that anyone who disagrees with other religions must not be killed.  Get rid of these despicable laws, and repudiate ISIS and its ilk. Then we wouldn't have this conversation at all.

      

ESP or A Tap Into The Spiritual Life

Extrasensory Perception is just another name for letting your God inspired spirit take advantage of the gifts we have all gotten at birth. Unfortunately some of the wires that are set up within the human body may get in the way for some of us so that brain damage, may hinder this function or ultra sensory wiring, synapses may heighten the usage.

There are things that happen however, that we just accept as ordinary occurrences because we just don't have the time or this world has jaded us into believing all this stuff is just gobble-de-gook.  My experiences have strengthened my belief that we can all sharpen these senses of the Spirit called ESP if only we spent the time practicing methods that allow this to happen.

Prayer is one method that can sharpen the ESP. But there are other methods such as meditation, Yoga and practices of Buddhism that will also sharpen the senses of the spirit. The idea is to reach into oneself so that you can get outside of this shell we call a body and send the brain waves, the spirit, over space and time to communicate and visualize past, future and interplanetary events.

The Psychics that are not charlatans have this ability. They can communicate with those who have past into that other dimension we call heaven, or even Purgatory of some kind. Words once released still are in the atmosphere, so are images all we need are receptors. The proof of this is Radio, TV, Radar and all the things we use so cavalierly every day. As you read this all sorts of pictures and voices are being transmitted that we can see when we turn on our sets.  So why not the same thing regarding ESP, Spiritual senses that reach outside of our bodies into the universe around us?

When I was very young and did not believe in all this "stuff" to test the theory I said a prayer that if I'd ever get married I would see my future wife then and there but would not realize it when we would get married sometime in the future. Some ten years later I married that girl who happened to pass my way right about the time I threw out that challenge. When I first saw her I asked a friend who she was and he steered me away from her saying she didn't speak English because he was pursuing her. I didn't realize the girl I eventually married and that girl that passed in front of me when I uttered that prayer was one and the same girl.

There was a time that I had to make a choice to follow my Company to the West Coast or stay here on the other coast, my beloved New York. I was married, had a large family and took a big risk by staying rather than going. The decision was reached after prayers, meditation and a deep feeling that this would be a wrong move for me and my family. I trusted that feeling. Years passed and it seemed that I made the wrong move.
But the ensuing years proved that I made the correct move. The company on the West Coast was merged and people were out of work. I wasn't. I had a job, not the best but it allowed me to support the family while it payed for my education.  It allowed me to experience things that I could only experience by staying in New York. It allowed me to have the opportunity to take care of my wife as she slipped into Alzheimer's. I met new people and made new friends not all of which stayed with me. I met a very pretty young lady and we met seemingly for a brief moment in our lives and then went our ways. BUT some 25 years later we met again and fell in love. I never would have had that opportunity to experience new beginnings if I didn't listen to my inner voice, ESP, God Talking or whatever you call it because without it I would have transferred to California. As a side bar my children wouldn't have met their lovers and had their children, my grandchildren. I wouldn't change it all for anything.

Co-incidence? I don't believe in co-incidences. There are so many other things I could recount not only my experiences but people I know. We are more than solidified chemicals and electrical impulses. We are Spiritual people and we could be so much more so if we would just take the time to develop these Extrasensory Perceptions!  

        

Yankees Can Break Your Heart

I can't figure it all out. The Yanks just lost their fourth in a row, in the last three games they scored one run. Their pitching has been great but their hitting seems to have taken a vacation. But what does that all mean to me? I keep telling myself the team is comprised of multi millionaires belonging to a multi billion dollar organization. If they win or lose they all get paid. If they win or lose I never get anything from their endeavors. What makes it even worst than that is while I know them, their ins and outs, I am just another unknown poor slob supporting these rich bastards. Yet they are breaking my heart.

Maybe it is the fact that we all wanted to play on the team when we were kids, I mean when we grew up. My first hero should have been my father but it was a Yankee outfielder named Johnny Lindell who wore the number 27 on his uniform. Of course I wore the same number on mine when I played on the sandlot teams.
I seemed to think when he did good it transferred to me and when I did good it transferred to him. And it wasn't just about winning it was about doing the best you could no matter what the outcome but if you won it was so much better. AND the Yankees won seemingly every year sometimes winning over 100 games while losing 54 or less. My sandlot teams won also and their was a certain pride in knowing when you were called on to compete you were better than the competition.

When you went out on the field dressed in your baseball uniform and the crowd of maybe 50 or maybe 10 people watched and they cheered if you made a great catch or got an important hit while the soft summer breeze was blowing through your hair because your hat fell off due to the effort expended to complete the play while running it was as if time stopped and you were transformed into your hero. I was Johnny Lindell and he was me and we were having fun competing and playing the game the way it should be played. Oh yeah, it was good to feel young and invincible swatting the ball, catching the ball after a long run.

Maybe that was it, the reason I felt so bad today watching the Yankees play like they forgot how to hit the ball. Maybe it made me realize they were getting old. I was getting old. I could feel the joy of youth, of the air blowing through my hair even though I was very bald, when they won. Somehow they and I were one. Young and carefree laughing through a hot summer's day as we caught the ball, hit the homers and were free of defeat because we played the game the way it should be played, and that is playing it well. At least for the moment anyway because the reality of life is that defeats are usually there always but lay the foundation for victories. And all the Ballplayers get old and eventually fade away, even the greatest. But for the moment we are all young again and that moment has been taken away from me during this Yankee slump and I fear it won't come back again until they start winning again.

I guess rooting for your team is like rooting for life. To succeed, stay forever young and live till you die. I think that explains why my heart is broken right now but they will rise again just as most of us do after each defeat experienced in living. Reminds me of Frank Sinatra's song "I'm gonna live till I die.... but if nothing comes up next July I'm gonna roll myself up in a big ball and die."

 

Always loved! Never Forgotten!

He woke early this Monday, 7/27/2015. He woke up early 7/27/1957 also, except it was Saturday back then.  He woke early because this day at 11 AM he was going to marry the most beautiful girl he ever saw and that included all those gorgeous movie stars that reigned back then. They had been dating on and off since 1954. He was madly in love with her since he first saw her but she took some pursuing. She had been hurt before and she wasn't going to be hurt again. He kept assuring her he wouldn't hurt her but she just didn't believe him.

He showered, shaved and kept thinking of how much he wanted her to trust him, to love him but even though they were tying the knot today she still had her doubts. He dressed in his day tux and if he had to say it himself he looked pretty good but he knew he couldn't look as good as she looked ever. 

The limo came on time and brought the men's wedding party to the church where they waited for the Bride to arrive. She was fashionably late but when she entered the church the inside lit up with her beauty. The best part about her was the outer beauty was matched by the inner beauty. There wasn't one person who met her who had anything bad to say about her. She truly brightened up anyone's life that she touched. 

The day was perfect. The ceremony was wonderful in the sanctity it brought to their union. The celebration that followed went by too quickly but every time they danced the electricity they shared cruised through their young bodies entering their very souls. They left NYC by plane for a honeymoon in Miami Florida. They then spent about a year in Columbus, Georgia as he was serving out his last year of active duty in the Army.

This morning of 7/27/15 there was no place to go so he let his thoughts go back to that Saturday of 7/27/57.

He thought the number 7 had played a very big role in their life. They lived off post in Georgia and the address was 79 B Victory Drive. When he came home they lived for two years above a Drug Store on Main Street in Port Washington, Nassau County, NY. He had to catch the 7 AM Long Island Railroad to get to work. They had 7 children. Yes the number 7 was always present.

He lay in bed recalling some of the bad times as well as the good times. She always loved the children deeply. He would remind her that eventually they would have to fly the coop and live their own lives and the most important people in our lives would be only us two. She didn't grasp the idea he was putting forth because of her deep love for the children, individually and as a group. Also she didn't exactly believe him when he kept telling her how much he loved her and he would give his life for her if he had to do just that.

 

They were married 50 years and 6 months when she passed away from complications of Alzheimer's. She was diagnosed some 15 years earlier but she started to show signs much earlier. When he wasn't aware of the progressive disease he was staring to feel she wasn't in love with him anymore. The diagnoses explained some of the things that were happening. He never left her side. Finally she was placed in a Nursing Home. He stayed with her every day from 10 AM till 7 PM, there's that number 7 again. Their love grew even when she stopped recognizing who he was. 

He kept his promise made so many years ago and she kept her's as they loved until death, and through eternity. True union is hard to explain, many even children, think they know what goes on between lovers but they don't, only the lovers do. He never regretted any part of their lives, they loved strongly, produced many lives when one included grandchildren and great-grandchildren and they had a chance to be together even when to onlookers thought they were apart. He pulled back the covers and rose from bed. Better to get on with the day he thought and leave the past for another time as there's still plenty of living yet to do.  

       

So Far The Yankees Are Schizophrenic

On the morning of June 16, 2015 the New York Yankees have a record of  34 won and 29 lost but their record doesn't show what an upside down  season it has been. They have won six or seven in a row while losing five or so in a row and at one time were one win and ten losses. They have played very good baseball winning on all cylinders. They have played very bad baseball looking at times more like little league-rs than major league-rs earning millions of dollars. This schizophrenic behavior also is being reflected by management led by their manger Joe Geradi, and General Manager Brian Cashman.

Everybody on that club knows more than me then how is it some things are so obvious I see the reasons for this odd behavior but the resident geniuses do not?  They have a great relief staff but it is being overused. This why their closer is on the DL and some of the long guys like Rogers are no longer with the club because they lost their effectiveness.  The pitching is not their main problem, consistency of their offense is as well as their defense.

Chase Headly is a fine third basement who has committed 14 errors up to this point while last year he committed  only 9 for the whole season. Their shortstop has to be taught how to play the position. He takes too many chances that lead to errors of or misplays. His swing has to be shortened, hitting .230 just isn't going to make him a good Jeter replacement. You get my drift? Drew has to become just a utility player. Hitting way below .200 is terrible even if he hits an occasional home run. Carlos Beltran has to go. Cut him loose and eat the contract. He can't play the outfield, he looks frightened going after a ball near the wall, he's slow and can't hit. He's a drag on the team. When Jacob Ellsbury  returns from the DL know he is extremely fragile and has to be rested and treated frequently hopefully putting off his his stay on the disability list.

I hate to say it but it looks like Geradi and Cashman are managing scared. Afraid to cut loose some very bad contracts and getting some experienced good players in their stead. Stop sending good players back to the minors because they have options, confidence shaken and possibly careers ruined. If the player is helping like Flores (I hope I got the kids's name right) he shouldn't be sent down. He fielded very well, showed a great arm, had speed and hit OK. His reward, optioned out to make room on the roster but then another rookie is brought up and currently playing centerfield. Gerardi's pitching moves lately have cost the Yankees games. The whole club has got to get their confidence back and this is done by getting rid of players who no longer have it despite their contract and getting consistency back on the and off the field.