He kept fading back and forth into consciousness. He was somewhat aware of his surroundings. He guessed he was in the hospital since he seemed to have tubes coming in and out of every part of his body. When he could open his eyes a bit he recognized his children, not all of them at one time, sitting around looking worried. At times as he came into consciousness he got the feeling that whichever one of them was there was laughing and wondering how long it was going to take before they would have to contact the undertaker. He coughed a bit and they jumped up and gathered around his bed. He just didn't have the strength to do anything but close his eyes and slip back in his mind to when he was much younger.
He was a Fort Dix, New Jersey dressed in Army issue Fatigues about three days after his induction. Already he was getting acclimated to the Army's way of doing anything. The clothes issued didn't fit. The food gave him dysentery from which he quickly recovered. It was either recover or shit your drawers. So he recovered. They didn't have his orders but they had a microphone which was very loud and blurted out every few hours or so that the orders had finally arrived and everyone should fall out. They then would count off numbers and assign duties from policing the area, to kitchen police. The PA system was referred to as the "bitch box". He and about five other guys had got caught the first day they were here and they decided to beat the system by breaking into the barracks next door which was empty where they opened the window in the latrine a crack so they could hear what the Sargents were barking out. Others didn't catch on and got hung up for duty.
The second day he was at Fort Dix they called out over the bitch box for every one to fall out since they had the orders of assignment. The Sargent counted off about eighty guys and then assigned a National Guard Sargent who was also new, to march them over to the general mess for the hated KP. He was in the middle of this motley crew that started to march out of step to the cadence call towards the consolidated mess hall. He thought there was no way he was going to dive into that mess hall that was said to have a grease pit that you could walk into or pots and pans stacked so high it would wrinkle your skin just by exposing yourself to that hard soap and high heat.
The Sarge. was calling off , hep 1, hep 2 and so on. He noticed that this rookie NG wasn't looking behind so as they were advancing he started to go slower and work his way to the last row, on the right. The NG Sarge.
barked ".....to the left TURN..." and the whole troop went left and he went straight. The troop continued to march towards the mess hall and he was free, but he didn't want to go directly back to his barracks as he might be questioned. He looked for a Post Exchange, PX, and he was drawn to the Fats Domino sound of "Blueberry Hill" and "My Blue Heaven". As it got louder he found the PX. He took a deep breath and hoped nobody would ask him anything. He entered the bright lights and the loud music of Fats Domino, ordered a bottle of 3.2% beer, sat at a table and lit a lucky inhaling deeply. He drank with gusto almost finishing the bottle of beer with one gulp, laughing at his Sgt. Bilko adventure loving his youth while at the same time missing his girl so much his body burned whenever he thought of her. Yet for the moment there was a feeling of freedom, a feeling of release.
The music of Fats Domino was beginning to fade in the echoing halls of his mind as he returned to consciousness for a brief moment. He opened his eyes and all his children were there with most of his grandchildren. He thought to himself, "For everyone to be here, they must of been told the end is very near." He started to feel that same sort of freedom he felt so many years ago when for a brief moment he outsmarted the US Army. Then he felt the moment of release and suddenly he was at the ceiling looking down at his body and those he loved and he knew he was gone. He felt a little nudge and right along side he saw his girl, she had left him so long ago but now they were together again.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Love Knows No Boundaries
It wasn't a particularly good start to the day. He really could have slept today but the radio alarm went off blaring a hard rock song that he didn't know and didn't want to know. The noise was so blaring it caused him to jerk up violently and swiftly leaving him light headed from that moment on. The sudden movement caused his back to just about go out on him making him move gingerly towards the radio to silence it. After he shut the radio his head ached and his neck was sore. "Great way to start another day.", he thought. When he was younger he was able to greet the day with verve and elan unless of course he happened to be hung over, but now the start to every day was a long process of getting his joints and muscles oiled up so he could get into the day. What made matters worse was his wife had passed on three years earlier and he never got over losing her. Dating back to the time when they were young lovers he always told her if they were to be separated by death he wished it to be him to go first but his preferred choice was that they go together. She was not happy with either propositions. As the years went by it became obvious unless there was an accident she would leave this world first, leaving him to fend for himself.
The first six months after her death he would get many signs that she was still with him, dreams, songs that meant so much to them and other matters that reminded him of times that only they would know about, experiences having to do with their deep love. Over the last two and a half years the dreams stopped, the songs were no longer as poignant and it seemed as if she was drifting away from him. Oh yeah, she had plenty of time for their children and grandchildren as they experienced dreams and little hints that she was watching over them and they loved that. But especially today he felt she was forgetting him. Her new existence had no room for him. He was hurt and angry. He complained to her directly but felt he was only talking to himself or the air, which led him to conclude that if he wanted to reach her he would have to do something to increase the focus on what he was saying. He got into his car and drove to the cemetery where she was interred. "I'm going to direct my thoughts and feelings directly to her headstone as I stand over her grave and then maybe she'll listen to me.".
It was before eight in the morning when he arrived at her grave site. There was no one around except some workers in sections that were far from her section. He got out of the car and stood in front of the headstone and just stared at it for a few minutes with his mind being blank. Then memories from the past flooded his mind. Their first date, their first time making love, their first child, their first big fight and on and on. He looked around and confirmed that no one was around and started to speak aloud.
"Hey Honey, I know this isn't where you are contained but for now this is where I feel closest to you. I miss you a lot. I love you, mucho, mucho. BUT what the hell is going on? When you first left me you managed to let me know you were around all the time. Now it seems you have time for everyone else but me. This spiritual state you are in, does it exclude me? I know that it is said in the after-life there is no such thing as husband or wife, but I never bought that. I mean, if you are in love then love is for all eternity. Someone once said '....all that remains is Faith, Hope and Love but the greatest of these is love.', if love is the greatest then I believe if two people love one another then that love lives on never to be destroyed. We made that promise to each other before we became husband and wife. We made that promise when you agreed to be my girl! At that time you said yes to being my girl but you added that meant I was your guy. At that time we were no longer two individuals but a new unity owned by each other bonded in love. Well if this is so where the hell have you been? Are you still my girl? I feel I am still your guy but you have to own that feeling. Do you? Let me know!"
He realized he had become louder and more vocal than he expected and some of the workers had moved closer to do some work and to keep an eye on him. He retreated back into himself and asked her to show him something, some sign that he was still her guy. There was nothing happening except for the workers cutting grass. There was no birds, no rustling of trees, no sudden wind. NOTHING! The silence was deafening. He touched the headstone and said silently, "OK, if that's the way it is I guess that's the way it is going to be. I'll just have to get accustomed to this new state between us.".
He got back into his car and decided to get his 7/11 coffee and newspaper. His body was still hurting. He was still a little light headed.. He turned to his favorite sports station and was half heartily
The first six months after her death he would get many signs that she was still with him, dreams, songs that meant so much to them and other matters that reminded him of times that only they would know about, experiences having to do with their deep love. Over the last two and a half years the dreams stopped, the songs were no longer as poignant and it seemed as if she was drifting away from him. Oh yeah, she had plenty of time for their children and grandchildren as they experienced dreams and little hints that she was watching over them and they loved that. But especially today he felt she was forgetting him. Her new existence had no room for him. He was hurt and angry. He complained to her directly but felt he was only talking to himself or the air, which led him to conclude that if he wanted to reach her he would have to do something to increase the focus on what he was saying. He got into his car and drove to the cemetery where she was interred. "I'm going to direct my thoughts and feelings directly to her headstone as I stand over her grave and then maybe she'll listen to me.".
It was before eight in the morning when he arrived at her grave site. There was no one around except some workers in sections that were far from her section. He got out of the car and stood in front of the headstone and just stared at it for a few minutes with his mind being blank. Then memories from the past flooded his mind. Their first date, their first time making love, their first child, their first big fight and on and on. He looked around and confirmed that no one was around and started to speak aloud.
"Hey Honey, I know this isn't where you are contained but for now this is where I feel closest to you. I miss you a lot. I love you, mucho, mucho. BUT what the hell is going on? When you first left me you managed to let me know you were around all the time. Now it seems you have time for everyone else but me. This spiritual state you are in, does it exclude me? I know that it is said in the after-life there is no such thing as husband or wife, but I never bought that. I mean, if you are in love then love is for all eternity. Someone once said '....all that remains is Faith, Hope and Love but the greatest of these is love.', if love is the greatest then I believe if two people love one another then that love lives on never to be destroyed. We made that promise to each other before we became husband and wife. We made that promise when you agreed to be my girl! At that time you said yes to being my girl but you added that meant I was your guy. At that time we were no longer two individuals but a new unity owned by each other bonded in love. Well if this is so where the hell have you been? Are you still my girl? I feel I am still your guy but you have to own that feeling. Do you? Let me know!"
He realized he had become louder and more vocal than he expected and some of the workers had moved closer to do some work and to keep an eye on him. He retreated back into himself and asked her to show him something, some sign that he was still her guy. There was nothing happening except for the workers cutting grass. There was no birds, no rustling of trees, no sudden wind. NOTHING! The silence was deafening. He touched the headstone and said silently, "OK, if that's the way it is I guess that's the way it is going to be. I'll just have to get accustomed to this new state between us.".
He got back into his car and decided to get his 7/11 coffee and newspaper. His body was still hurting. He was still a little light headed.. He turned to his favorite sports station and was half heartily
Nothing you can say
Can tear me away from my guy
Nothing you could do
'Cause I'm stuck like glue to my guy
I'm stickin" to my guy
Like a stamp to a letter
Like the birds of a feather
We stick together
I'm tellin' you from the start
I can't be torn apart from my guy
Nothing you can do
Could make me untrue to my guy
Nothing you could buy
Could make me tell a lie to my guy
I gave my guy my word of honor
To be faithful and I'm gonna
You best be believing
I won't be deceiving my guy
As a matter of opinion I think he's tops
My opinion is he's the cream of the crop
As a matter of taste to be exact
He's my ideal as a matter of fact
No muscle bound man
Could take my hand from my guy
No handsome face
Could ever take the place of my guy
He may not be a movie star
But when it comes to being happy we are
There's not a man today
Who could take me away from my guy
No muscle bound man
Could take my hand from my guy
No handsome face
Could ever take the place of my guy
He may not be a movie star
But when it comes to being happy we are
There's not a man today
Who could take me away from my guy
The song was fading away as he pulled into the lot. Some people might say the poetry didn't reach the heights of Whitman and Frost but he thought it was great. Suddenly his body didn't hurt as much and the light headiness was gone. As he entered the store the clerk he knew asked. " What's the big smile about? Don't you know the Yanks lost last night?" to which he replied, "I just got some great news that makes this day a great day to be alive.". To celebrate he got a Danish to go with his coffee.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Corona, In My Memories
Corona was a great place to live when back in the 1920's and '30's. Believe it or not it was country back then. Unfortunately after the war, the big war, it became over built, but my first memories of our semi-attached duplex home where we rented an apartment. My Grandmother lived in the apartment on the second floor next to us and an Italian family, Lascocko, I believe, lived downstairs. They had three daughters, the oldest hung out with older cousin's of mine. The middle girl had a french name and was real pretty. The youngest was named, Faythe and gave me my first kiss at five years old as we played house by the steps leading up to our apartment. The house next door was owned by Fat Frances and my Aunt and Uncle lived upstairs with a cousin of mine who was more like a sister to my brother and me. Of course she was a bit older and hung with my brother as I was, and still am the baby. Now I should explain why we called the land lady Fat Frances. My Aunt Frances lived upstairs and she was always kind of slim and stylish. The land lady lived on the first floor and was named Frances also. To differentiate between the two became obvious
based on the physical differences. My Aunt was the good looking Francis and the other wasn't but we couldn't refer to her as "Homely" so "Fat" became part of her name. We lived on Corona Ave. just up from National Ave. and the trolley passed right down the middle of the Avenue.
My Mother's AND Father's family lived with in walking distance. Everybody knew everybody. Jimmy DeSetto's butcher shop was just around the corner and he and his family lived down the block until they moved away, about four blocks where they lived across the street from one Aunt, on my mother's side, and around the block from another, on my Father's side. They girls all hung out with each other and there was some dating with the older guys and girls, even some talk of scandal between a couple but that's another story. My memory tells me only my Uncle Tony, on my father's side had a car. My Uncle Nick had a truck from which he sold fruits and vegetables, main route was in the Bronx. We used to pile in the truck on Sundays and go to the park where we had cook outs, Italian style meaning Gravy (Sauce to you purists) and spaghetti with meatballs. I don't think we used the grills much in those days. The men would play cards in their tee shirts while the women cleaned up. Then the women would join the game and the men would complain. The women would win and the men claimed it was because they talked too much confusing everyone.
It was the day of NO AIR CONDITIONERS. When the summer came with its scorching heat we'd sit on the stoop in front of the house. Next door was a house that had chickens. Yes that's right, chickens were legal in Corona back then! The Rooster was king of the back yard and if he saw my brother he would chase him to peck him. Everyone thought this was hilarious, except my brother. July fourth was always steamy hot and ultra humid. When the sun went down all the way the men, not the children, would set off fireworks. I seem to remember the skies lit up all around us with Roman Sparklers, Rockets and noise from crackers and cherry bombs went on until late evening. Many of the men if they had jobs, the depression was nearing the end because the war was looming, had vacations beginning on July fourth. They had second jobs to work while they vacationed maybe for $5 day. But they were off on the fifth so they stayed up late that night. We all went to bed later, sweating and happy. I can't speak for the grownups of that day but for the kids, we were poor but we really didn't know it. We were all in the same boat and the whole neighborhood seemed like one big family which maybe it was. We knew when something good was happening and felt good for whomever was experiencing the good. We also knew when something bad happened and grieved with the family that was going through the bad times like the time this one kid came down with rheumatic heart and went from healthy to sickly in a heart beat. The neighborhood tried to do what they could do even if it meant the women said an extra Rosary for them. The men didn't go to church as far as I can remember.
The war came and went. People grew up and got married and everyone seemed to have a car. The car gave freedom to move away to Long Island, OK I know that Corona is on Long Island but we consider it the City.
Nobody seemed to live within walking distance of anybody else. New people moved into Corona, first the Blacks, then the Hispanics and now the Asians. Chickens aren't allowed inside the City limits and every square inch of dirt has something built on it, except of course for Flushing Meadow Park, which by the way is in Corona. Oh and by the way, there are no more Trolleys.
Monday, June 27, 2011
Remembering Mom!
It was one of those rare June days, the humidity was low. The temperature was around 80 but no higher. The sky was a deep blue dotted with puffy white clouds. He was in the park but didn't have a blanket but what the hell he thought I'll just lay on the grass which looked like it was clean and had the clean fresh smell of a newly mowed lawn. As he lay on his back looking up to the sky he marveled how the clouds took on forms like big mountains or rivers and then were dispersed by the gently blown winds. As he was looking at one cloud change its formation he could swear it was the likeness of his mother who had passed from this world some five years ago. The cloud became his mother's face smiling down on him. He closed his eyes and suddenly he was deep in reveries. He was only sixteen and he wanted to stay home on this Sunday to try out for the local team called The Imperials. He had a good shot of making the team since the Saturday he was at the try-out and they told him to come back the next day. Mom however wasn't going to let him stay home while the family was going to visit his fathers family who lived in the Bronx. She was emphasizing that by not going he would be disrespectful to his father. He didn't believe this for a moment. He knew that she didn't trust him to stay out of trouble while they were away, in the Bronx, maybe about 15 miles from home. But she knew her son. He visited the family and never played for The Imperials, but he was sure he could have.
The scene shifted in his mind's eye and he was in the hospital just two weeks after he had both feet and legs operated on. He was supposed to go home with plaster casts to wear for many months. He was looking forward to his Mother's spaghetti and meatballs because nothing he had in the hospital could compare to his mom's cooking especially her gravy (sauce to you non-NY-Italians). It was not to be. He had appendicitis and had to be taken to Roosevelt Hospital by ambulance and wasn't to come home for another week. He burst into tears and his Mom tried to comfort him and her softness in voice and body was a great comfort but not as much as a plate of her spaghetti and meatballs would have been.
Then the scene shifted to when he was four years old and they were in Asbury Park for a week because his Dad had a special assignment to re-finish a big Hotel's furniture. Asbury Park was a very rich play-land back in the day, right near the water, a board-walk and a great machine that blew bubbles around a glass enclosure, bubbles of all different colors. One Sunday as the family was strolling on the board-walk he asked if he could run ahead to look at the great bubble machine. He got the OK and away he went. It was very crowded but he paid no attention to the crowed until he noticed that his Mom and Dad were nowhere to be seen. He became frightened and started to cry. An elderly gentleman approached him and asked what was wrong and he asked the man if he saw his Mom and Dad. The guy said he did and pointed in a direction that he started to follow after a few steps his Mother and Father ran up and Mom grabbed him to her bosom. The elderly guy was nowhere to be seen. When he grew up he used to tease her by saying she tried to lose him. He was sure there were times when she might have felt that way as he was growing up but in the end he was her child and she was the protective mother hen always.
He remembered as she got older and his father got sicker she would nurse him saying she couldn't bring anyone in because it was her duty to nurse him. She wouldn't admit it but it was more than duty, it was love. We all know how these old-timers are, were. She was a neat freak probably because she grew up in the bleakness of New York's grimy street and poverty where she heard the deriding chants of "greasy Guinea" more than once. She had to be cleaner than clean. While her husband was getting sicker her house was getting to big to keep up so he got her a house-keeper called Amanda. The peculiar thing was that after Amanda came, once a week, Mom was very tired and her body was aching. He talked to Amanda and found out that she had very little to do since the house was sparkling when she arrived. He asked Mom about this and she explained she stayed up the night before Amanda was to come and cleaned the house including washing and waxing the floors since she didn't want Amanda to think she was a slob. He told Amanda not to come anymore, it wasn't her fault it was because Mom was Mrs. Clean and it would be easier on her to just do it herself at her leisure.
He rolled over and his face was in the ground. Apparently he dozed off. He got up and brushed the grass from his clothes but he knew he had to put new ones on since the freshly mowed grass left him with green stains. As he left the park he looked up and saw the cloud that still had Mom's face on it and it had a broad smile on it.
The scene shifted in his mind's eye and he was in the hospital just two weeks after he had both feet and legs operated on. He was supposed to go home with plaster casts to wear for many months. He was looking forward to his Mother's spaghetti and meatballs because nothing he had in the hospital could compare to his mom's cooking especially her gravy (sauce to you non-NY-Italians). It was not to be. He had appendicitis and had to be taken to Roosevelt Hospital by ambulance and wasn't to come home for another week. He burst into tears and his Mom tried to comfort him and her softness in voice and body was a great comfort but not as much as a plate of her spaghetti and meatballs would have been.
Then the scene shifted to when he was four years old and they were in Asbury Park for a week because his Dad had a special assignment to re-finish a big Hotel's furniture. Asbury Park was a very rich play-land back in the day, right near the water, a board-walk and a great machine that blew bubbles around a glass enclosure, bubbles of all different colors. One Sunday as the family was strolling on the board-walk he asked if he could run ahead to look at the great bubble machine. He got the OK and away he went. It was very crowded but he paid no attention to the crowed until he noticed that his Mom and Dad were nowhere to be seen. He became frightened and started to cry. An elderly gentleman approached him and asked what was wrong and he asked the man if he saw his Mom and Dad. The guy said he did and pointed in a direction that he started to follow after a few steps his Mother and Father ran up and Mom grabbed him to her bosom. The elderly guy was nowhere to be seen. When he grew up he used to tease her by saying she tried to lose him. He was sure there were times when she might have felt that way as he was growing up but in the end he was her child and she was the protective mother hen always.
He remembered as she got older and his father got sicker she would nurse him saying she couldn't bring anyone in because it was her duty to nurse him. She wouldn't admit it but it was more than duty, it was love. We all know how these old-timers are, were. She was a neat freak probably because she grew up in the bleakness of New York's grimy street and poverty where she heard the deriding chants of "greasy Guinea" more than once. She had to be cleaner than clean. While her husband was getting sicker her house was getting to big to keep up so he got her a house-keeper called Amanda. The peculiar thing was that after Amanda came, once a week, Mom was very tired and her body was aching. He talked to Amanda and found out that she had very little to do since the house was sparkling when she arrived. He asked Mom about this and she explained she stayed up the night before Amanda was to come and cleaned the house including washing and waxing the floors since she didn't want Amanda to think she was a slob. He told Amanda not to come anymore, it wasn't her fault it was because Mom was Mrs. Clean and it would be easier on her to just do it herself at her leisure.
He rolled over and his face was in the ground. Apparently he dozed off. He got up and brushed the grass from his clothes but he knew he had to put new ones on since the freshly mowed grass left him with green stains. As he left the park he looked up and saw the cloud that still had Mom's face on it and it had a broad smile on it.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
Maybe You Don't Know It BUT You've come a long way Lady!
Just read somewhere that the average married woman in Ben Franklin's time had thirteen children. Back then I would guess you ladies had little else to do than to satisfy husbands, give birth, feed the brood and keep the house and clothes clean. I would also guess you didn't have a long life span. I think your legal status was chattel, legal property. Things hadn't changed much when my Grandmother came into this world in 1875. She had to submit to an arranged marriage, yes even the poor were doing things like that, in 1889. She had thirteen births (nothing seemed to change in a couple of hundred years) her last being in 1914 which everybody labeled a "change of life" baby. My Mother was born in 1908 and by then winds of change was in the air. Mom was a rebel and insisted her first date with my Dad would not have a chaperon. They were to have a walk in a park where they just happened to meet her sisters and their family and her mother (her father was dead). I know this doesn't sound like a breakthrough for women's rights but it was a start. Mom got married in 1929 and the ensuing depression and the fact that I almost killed her in her pregnancy kept her brood to two children. She lived to 97 and I am sure having only two children contributed to her long life. She was a modern young lady. She learned Crochet Beading, a skill not in use today but was in great demand back in the day. She ran a shop for a while. The pressure of having to do all the womanly chores of housekeeping, cooking etc. was still hers not to mention the fact that my Dad really didn't like the idea of her working in an environment that was run and owned by two good looking American fellows. So for a while she did homework. I remember sitting under the outstretched material as she worked her needles and lifted the beads onto the outline. I'd pick up the beads that dropped to the floor which was covered by a sheet.
My Dad was an immigrant to this country from Italy in 1920. He was 19 years old then and got married some nine years later. He came from a family of some 15 or so children, I never could get an exact figure. His Mom and Dad died while WW II was going on in the mid forties. I never met them but I saw pictures and they were two very short people, my Grandfather a real shoemaker and she baked bread for the nuns. She must of been some woman. Including my father five children immigrated, three boys and two girls. It wasn't easy being a young lady in Italy in those days. My Aunt Tessie told me that one day after church at her door she stopped to say hello to a boy she knew and one of her older brothers saw her and slapped her in the face drawing blood from her lip and ordered her to go into the house, which she did without a word because she had no standing and she DID talk to a boy unaccompanied. She married an Italian immigrant by the way of Argentina whose name was Anthony, we called him Uncle Tony. What else? The other girl was my Aunt Julia who married my Uncle Mike, an iceman who didn't work much. Aunt Tessie was a seamstress. Aunt Julia became Sonia Heine's personal seamstress. Uncle Tony was always a hard worker and he was a tailor but Uncle Mike seemed to be an unemployed iceman. The women, my Mother included, let all the Italian men think they were the boss but the women really ran the whole family making decisions when to buy clothes, running the household budget and ruling over the children. The women had to defer to the men. Why? Because that's the way it was. These women were paving the way for women's rights without demonstrating or burning bras. Little by little they were staking their claim that they had as much right to happiness as the men had and they were hell bent on making sure they were not going to be the servants the way their mother's were. The men did not give up their position easily but over the years they just let it happen. On some fronts the men held their ground. My Mom and Dad had two or three fights a year. When they retired for the night my Mom would ask my Father if he was going to sleep in their bed and without answering he'd just pull the covers over him and go to sleep. She then would sleep on the couch in the Parlor until she realized he had a peaceful sleep while she just fumed. The later years saw them both go to sleep in their bed facing away from each other. My Father wasn't going to give up one of his last rights which was the RIGHT to sleep in HIS bed. My Mother ate her pride for the benefit of a good night's sleep.
Today the young women never even think about what their ancestors had to do so that they can enjoy their lives almost as much as young men, there is still some way to go but not much. I know the Carry Nations and the bra burners have all the headlines but the quiet workers for women's rights, their Great-Grandmothers and Great-Great-Grandmothers did just as much but it wasn't as showy, it couldn't be since they were in close proximity to those who figured keeping women under their protective fingers was their God given right. However, it should be noted that even today there are those who think the road to hell came when we gave them their right to vote. But if the truth be known it would definitely show that a lot of our greatness as a nation can be attributed to the fact that for every great man there was a great woman who allowed him to be great. The women have finally stepped out from the shadows to become leaders in partnership with men. This is the way it should be and we are a much stronger nation because of it. Yes, it is true, even if you don't know it you've come a long way lady!
My Dad was an immigrant to this country from Italy in 1920. He was 19 years old then and got married some nine years later. He came from a family of some 15 or so children, I never could get an exact figure. His Mom and Dad died while WW II was going on in the mid forties. I never met them but I saw pictures and they were two very short people, my Grandfather a real shoemaker and she baked bread for the nuns. She must of been some woman. Including my father five children immigrated, three boys and two girls. It wasn't easy being a young lady in Italy in those days. My Aunt Tessie told me that one day after church at her door she stopped to say hello to a boy she knew and one of her older brothers saw her and slapped her in the face drawing blood from her lip and ordered her to go into the house, which she did without a word because she had no standing and she DID talk to a boy unaccompanied. She married an Italian immigrant by the way of Argentina whose name was Anthony, we called him Uncle Tony. What else? The other girl was my Aunt Julia who married my Uncle Mike, an iceman who didn't work much. Aunt Tessie was a seamstress. Aunt Julia became Sonia Heine's personal seamstress. Uncle Tony was always a hard worker and he was a tailor but Uncle Mike seemed to be an unemployed iceman. The women, my Mother included, let all the Italian men think they were the boss but the women really ran the whole family making decisions when to buy clothes, running the household budget and ruling over the children. The women had to defer to the men. Why? Because that's the way it was. These women were paving the way for women's rights without demonstrating or burning bras. Little by little they were staking their claim that they had as much right to happiness as the men had and they were hell bent on making sure they were not going to be the servants the way their mother's were. The men did not give up their position easily but over the years they just let it happen. On some fronts the men held their ground. My Mom and Dad had two or three fights a year. When they retired for the night my Mom would ask my Father if he was going to sleep in their bed and without answering he'd just pull the covers over him and go to sleep. She then would sleep on the couch in the Parlor until she realized he had a peaceful sleep while she just fumed. The later years saw them both go to sleep in their bed facing away from each other. My Father wasn't going to give up one of his last rights which was the RIGHT to sleep in HIS bed. My Mother ate her pride for the benefit of a good night's sleep.
Today the young women never even think about what their ancestors had to do so that they can enjoy their lives almost as much as young men, there is still some way to go but not much. I know the Carry Nations and the bra burners have all the headlines but the quiet workers for women's rights, their Great-Grandmothers and Great-Great-Grandmothers did just as much but it wasn't as showy, it couldn't be since they were in close proximity to those who figured keeping women under their protective fingers was their God given right. However, it should be noted that even today there are those who think the road to hell came when we gave them their right to vote. But if the truth be known it would definitely show that a lot of our greatness as a nation can be attributed to the fact that for every great man there was a great woman who allowed him to be great. The women have finally stepped out from the shadows to become leaders in partnership with men. This is the way it should be and we are a much stronger nation because of it. Yes, it is true, even if you don't know it you've come a long way lady!
Friday, June 17, 2011
The New Pin Cushions, The Obamas
Is it just me or have you experienced this also? Pundits, Political Junkies, Internet Buzz and just plain people like you and me never just criticize President Obama for his policies without getting personal in a venomous manner with him or his family? After the election I figured some of this stuff, which to me anyway, seems like real hate, would go away, instead it intensified.I thought to myself it may be because he's black yet some of my friends say that isn't so. Do they protest too much? I wonder. Many insist on sending some of this Internet tripe that suggests he really wasn't a good student and somehow he bought his way through school while he was planning to subvert the American economy when he would be elected President which he somehow knew even then. By the way according to some of this newest "stuff" he knew it when he was a pot smoking no-gooder. Huh? I couldn't help but respond to one. I never mentioned the word black yet the response I received was I don't accept Obama as President because of his policies not because he is black. Huh? Who said anything about Obama being black? By the way he is also white I believe the term is multi-racial.
When the then Sen. Obama burst on the national scene he first was attacked for being a racially motivated Black Christian something like a Black Panther. When this personal attack failed he was then charged with being a Muslim, which having a name like Barack made it easy to do. You can't be both but that didn't stop his detractors they just continued to circulate this "stuff". Then came the Birthers. He wasn't a natural born U. S. citizen. All the way up to Trump and Hannity and that ilk. Finally he produces the birth certificate and the whispers still charge that it might not be so along with the question, "Why did he spend millions to hide it?", which question never proves he spent anything to hide anything. All this says he is not like us (us being good solid Americans). His economic policies are planned to lead us into a socialistic state or so goes the charges implying he is purposely undermining America's free capitalism system so he can destroy us (notice he isn't one of "us").
On top of all this he is trying to supplant our rule of law with Muslim law. You mean you haven't heard that charge? As if any one person could do that? The charge claims conspiracy which begs the question; Who are the people he is conspiring with? Everything is hidden and mysterious! His detractors haven't stopped at attacking him personally they have attacked Michele in very degrading ways. You mean you haven't seen those pictures circulating on the Internet? If you do see them tell me they are not bigoted portrayals of black people. What makes it so shameful is Michele Obama is very attractive and gracious doing much good for our children and even our retail outlets by wearing clothes bought at the Gap and the like which sell out at a decent price. Quietly going about doing good on all levels.
Let us examine how this Obama fellow is hurting us good Americans. He came on the scene with the economy in free fall. While it is not where it should be we are not in a depression. Mitt Romney said let the U. S. Auto makers go into bankruptcy. Obama got them out of a failing situation so that the American auto industry is doing fine right now saving tens of thousands of jobs. After three Presidents failed, Osama Bin Laden was finally put out of his misery (and ours) due to President Obama's decision. Now for the dreaded Obama care. I personally know people who have benefited by it, one who gets medicine previously denied his family because they reached their quota, many recent College graduates who were able to stay on their parents insurance and another whose insurance limited in-patient mental hospital stay which under the present law can't be differentiated from medical in-hospital stay. These cases would have left people to fend for themselves many without any heath insurance for their needs. I got to admit this Obama guy is really trying to subvert the American way.
So far he is fighting the Republican platform of putting Medicare on a voucher system, cutting basic social programs while increasing tax breaks for the most wealthy. Okay, If that is what you want then go ahead and defend the plan. But do it on a policy basis NOT A PERSONAL VENDETTA! Oh and by the way the free market everyone always references is not there. Adam Smith's, Lassie Fare and invisible hand just isn't there anymore. When the Capitalist had free reign we had child labor, fifteen hour days and dangerous working conditions which led to rise of unions, child labor laws and all sorts of regulations like regulating inter-state dealings. So Okay I support your right to want all the Republicans have to offer. God Bless, it's all yours.
When the then Sen. Obama burst on the national scene he first was attacked for being a racially motivated Black Christian something like a Black Panther. When this personal attack failed he was then charged with being a Muslim, which having a name like Barack made it easy to do. You can't be both but that didn't stop his detractors they just continued to circulate this "stuff". Then came the Birthers. He wasn't a natural born U. S. citizen. All the way up to Trump and Hannity and that ilk. Finally he produces the birth certificate and the whispers still charge that it might not be so along with the question, "Why did he spend millions to hide it?", which question never proves he spent anything to hide anything. All this says he is not like us (us being good solid Americans). His economic policies are planned to lead us into a socialistic state or so goes the charges implying he is purposely undermining America's free capitalism system so he can destroy us (notice he isn't one of "us").
On top of all this he is trying to supplant our rule of law with Muslim law. You mean you haven't heard that charge? As if any one person could do that? The charge claims conspiracy which begs the question; Who are the people he is conspiring with? Everything is hidden and mysterious! His detractors haven't stopped at attacking him personally they have attacked Michele in very degrading ways. You mean you haven't seen those pictures circulating on the Internet? If you do see them tell me they are not bigoted portrayals of black people. What makes it so shameful is Michele Obama is very attractive and gracious doing much good for our children and even our retail outlets by wearing clothes bought at the Gap and the like which sell out at a decent price. Quietly going about doing good on all levels.
Let us examine how this Obama fellow is hurting us good Americans. He came on the scene with the economy in free fall. While it is not where it should be we are not in a depression. Mitt Romney said let the U. S. Auto makers go into bankruptcy. Obama got them out of a failing situation so that the American auto industry is doing fine right now saving tens of thousands of jobs. After three Presidents failed, Osama Bin Laden was finally put out of his misery (and ours) due to President Obama's decision. Now for the dreaded Obama care. I personally know people who have benefited by it, one who gets medicine previously denied his family because they reached their quota, many recent College graduates who were able to stay on their parents insurance and another whose insurance limited in-patient mental hospital stay which under the present law can't be differentiated from medical in-hospital stay. These cases would have left people to fend for themselves many without any heath insurance for their needs. I got to admit this Obama guy is really trying to subvert the American way.
So far he is fighting the Republican platform of putting Medicare on a voucher system, cutting basic social programs while increasing tax breaks for the most wealthy. Okay, If that is what you want then go ahead and defend the plan. But do it on a policy basis NOT A PERSONAL VENDETTA! Oh and by the way the free market everyone always references is not there. Adam Smith's, Lassie Fare and invisible hand just isn't there anymore. When the Capitalist had free reign we had child labor, fifteen hour days and dangerous working conditions which led to rise of unions, child labor laws and all sorts of regulations like regulating inter-state dealings. So Okay I support your right to want all the Republicans have to offer. God Bless, it's all yours.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Words Do Make A Difference
He was waiting to pick his wife up as she returned from work on the commuter train. He wasn't exactly feeling good about himself these days. His body was letting him know he was in the middle fifties. His job had let him know that when they "down sized", a nice word for firing, him citing many excuses but really because he got too old with too many perks so it was easier to give him a package and ship him off. While they let him get early retirement he was too young just to let it go at that besides they needed the income since the pension and his wife's salary wasn't enough to support the family. Trying to find work only left him feeling worse about himself as he continued to hear he was either under-qualified or over-qualified. Thirty-five years ago he turned down a low minor league offer from the Brooklyn Dodgers. Back in the day they paid practically nothing to those in the low minors so he figured he could do better outside of Baseball. He probably did since it was not easy to get to the big leagues and he did okay in business. His first job had him playing for the department team in the company league. As he reflected on all this he began to doubt the fact that he used to be a pretty good ballplayer, in fact he had doubts that he was any good at anything.
Out of nowhere it seems this guy came up to him and asked if he was Sam Last. He said he was. The guy said you probably don't recognize me but I'm Tommy Ryan we worked at OTC some years ago. Sam didn't want to seem rude but he had to admit he didn't remember the guy. Tommy then proceeded to tell him that they had played ball together at OTC. They gabbed a bit and then Tommy said I have to tell you the way you played always stayed with me. I could've swore that if given the chance you could've made it. Tommy went on, "You weren't the fastest guy but anything hit your way you ran and got. There weren't many balls hit over your head or that dropped in front of you.". The train came in the guys shook hands and the wives were picked up and driven home. Sam and Tommy never met again but that chance meeting restored Sam's confidence. He thought I was good, at least someone else besides me thought so.
With restored confidence this chance meeting restored, Sam lifted himself out of the doldrums and carved new career which got him through the financial and mental doldrums that can come to a middle aged man who felt his life was coming to a quicker ending that he wasn't prepared to accept. The fact was that whenever he felt beaten down he recalled the chance meeting and Tommy Ryan's words which always let him get up off the floor and somehow win the battle. Even now some twenty years later he still draws on Tommy's words to restore confidence in himself. Maybe he couldn't play ball anymore but he could use that experience of accomplishment and the athletic mindset to channel adversity in a winning situation. Maybe Tommy was his Guardian Angel in disguise ready to lift him up when he was down. Whatever!
WORDS DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE!
Out of nowhere it seems this guy came up to him and asked if he was Sam Last. He said he was. The guy said you probably don't recognize me but I'm Tommy Ryan we worked at OTC some years ago. Sam didn't want to seem rude but he had to admit he didn't remember the guy. Tommy then proceeded to tell him that they had played ball together at OTC. They gabbed a bit and then Tommy said I have to tell you the way you played always stayed with me. I could've swore that if given the chance you could've made it. Tommy went on, "You weren't the fastest guy but anything hit your way you ran and got. There weren't many balls hit over your head or that dropped in front of you.". The train came in the guys shook hands and the wives were picked up and driven home. Sam and Tommy never met again but that chance meeting restored Sam's confidence. He thought I was good, at least someone else besides me thought so.
With restored confidence this chance meeting restored, Sam lifted himself out of the doldrums and carved new career which got him through the financial and mental doldrums that can come to a middle aged man who felt his life was coming to a quicker ending that he wasn't prepared to accept. The fact was that whenever he felt beaten down he recalled the chance meeting and Tommy Ryan's words which always let him get up off the floor and somehow win the battle. Even now some twenty years later he still draws on Tommy's words to restore confidence in himself. Maybe he couldn't play ball anymore but he could use that experience of accomplishment and the athletic mindset to channel adversity in a winning situation. Maybe Tommy was his Guardian Angel in disguise ready to lift him up when he was down. Whatever!
WORDS DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE!
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