Living in the midwest, I and many others experienced yesterday 40 mile an hour winds, blowing and blinding snow, below freezing weather, a dangerous driving environment and basically blizzard like conditions all day long.
Having to be out in the weather driving for a portion of the day I noticed how everyone on the road looked out for each other. After all, we were all in this situation together. People were friendly and helpful to their neighbor and there was peace and good will - at least on the roads.
During all of this, race, religion and political views were never an issue. It was just one day of helping our fellow man without making judgements or having opinions.
Maybe the world needs a good old-fashioned snow storm to remind us that we're all in this together and hatred, war and gridlock is not good or helpful to anyone.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
John Lennon, My Life And Time Gone By
Thirty years ago tonight, John Lennon was murdered outside his home and I was there.
I worked for Leo Antiques on 2190 Broadway which was about eight blocks from the Dakota where the Lennons lived. Leo is no longer with us and the store has since closed, but every December the second floor of Leo's turned into the largest Christmas store in New York City.
That day thirty years ago, my boss, Leo, had flyers made out and my job was to go through the neighborhood putting them in doors to try to attract business. My last stop of the day was the Dakota. I knew that John Lennon lived there as well as Gilda Radner and Leonard Bernstein, so I took my time while in the building to try to catch a glimse of a celebrity.
At the end of the day instead of going to my normal hang-out - the Dublin House on 79th street, I decided to go one block from the Dakota to a bar on 72nd street for a few drinks. As I was leaving, several police cars and an ambulance raced past me and stopped at the Dakota. I thought about turning around, but since sirens were pretty common in New York I decided to head home.
When I got home I heard on the radio that John Lennon had been shot outside the Dakota and I soon realized that those police cars and the ambulance were for him.
Everyone knows the importance of John Lennon's music and I can't contribute anything better than what's already been written about him and his death. All I know is that every year at this time I find myself thrown back into my youth and am reminded of a person who's time on this Earth was cut way too short and then find myself questioning my own life and where it has gone.
I worked for Leo Antiques on 2190 Broadway which was about eight blocks from the Dakota where the Lennons lived. Leo is no longer with us and the store has since closed, but every December the second floor of Leo's turned into the largest Christmas store in New York City.
That day thirty years ago, my boss, Leo, had flyers made out and my job was to go through the neighborhood putting them in doors to try to attract business. My last stop of the day was the Dakota. I knew that John Lennon lived there as well as Gilda Radner and Leonard Bernstein, so I took my time while in the building to try to catch a glimse of a celebrity.
At the end of the day instead of going to my normal hang-out - the Dublin House on 79th street, I decided to go one block from the Dakota to a bar on 72nd street for a few drinks. As I was leaving, several police cars and an ambulance raced past me and stopped at the Dakota. I thought about turning around, but since sirens were pretty common in New York I decided to head home.
When I got home I heard on the radio that John Lennon had been shot outside the Dakota and I soon realized that those police cars and the ambulance were for him.
Everyone knows the importance of John Lennon's music and I can't contribute anything better than what's already been written about him and his death. All I know is that every year at this time I find myself thrown back into my youth and am reminded of a person who's time on this Earth was cut way too short and then find myself questioning my own life and where it has gone.
Friday, December 3, 2010
Thanks For Your Loyalty, Mister Santo
When I think of my childhood, I think of Ron Santo. This goes way back to the 1960's when a neighbor boy asked me if I was a Cubs fan or a Cardinal fan. I had always been a fan of Baseball and didn't know I had to choose sides - something I still don't understand. Anyway, I couldn't give my friend an instant answer, so I told him I would sleep on it and get back to him.
I decided that since the Cubs were from Chicago and I lived in Illinois, then I would be loyal to my state, so I proudly told my friend that I was a Chicago Cubs fan. And now some four decades later I remain one.
The Cubs had some pretty good players back then, which included three future hall of famers and one guy that played just as good, but for some reason or another never quite made it into that exclusive club. That player, of course, was Ron Santo and his sixty decade love for his team is what inspired me most about him.
To me, Mister Santo was more than just a good ballplayer and passionate announcer. Instead, I looked at him as an embassador of loyalty. In this day and age of "me first," it was always nice to look at a man who sincerely cared about an orgainization that gave him his start.
All of us can learn a lot from Ron Santo's loyalty. And not just for our favorite sports team, for it goes much deeper than that. It starts with the people that shaped us into who we are today like teachers, family members, spouses, mentors, bosses and the list goes on and on. It's important that we remember these things and sad that it often takes death to remind us of what really matters. Thanks, Mister Santo, for when I think of your life, it gets me back on course.
I decided that since the Cubs were from Chicago and I lived in Illinois, then I would be loyal to my state, so I proudly told my friend that I was a Chicago Cubs fan. And now some four decades later I remain one.
The Cubs had some pretty good players back then, which included three future hall of famers and one guy that played just as good, but for some reason or another never quite made it into that exclusive club. That player, of course, was Ron Santo and his sixty decade love for his team is what inspired me most about him.
To me, Mister Santo was more than just a good ballplayer and passionate announcer. Instead, I looked at him as an embassador of loyalty. In this day and age of "me first," it was always nice to look at a man who sincerely cared about an orgainization that gave him his start.
All of us can learn a lot from Ron Santo's loyalty. And not just for our favorite sports team, for it goes much deeper than that. It starts with the people that shaped us into who we are today like teachers, family members, spouses, mentors, bosses and the list goes on and on. It's important that we remember these things and sad that it often takes death to remind us of what really matters. Thanks, Mister Santo, for when I think of your life, it gets me back on course.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Overcoming Disappointment Through An Unlikely Source
There are times in life when we have to face disappointment. This can take on many forms. Sometimes it's in the guise of a family member or friend. Other times disappointment can be related to work or even play. All of these frustrations eventually work themselves out either by moving on or accepting the way things are with the person or problem that has you disillusioned.
However, one of the hardest obstacles to overcome is when we feel disappointed in ourselves. Often it's something we said or did, or didn't say or do. Other times it's looking at the so called success of our peers and feeling a sense of failure or incompleteness within our own life.
When this happens, we sometimes find ourselves fighting these feelings of self disappointment with denial or justification or give into it completely by going into depression or self doubt. These are all natural feelings, but ultimately time wasting.
The best way to learn about and overcome disappointment is through baseball. Yes, I said baseball. Look at the facts. The best hitters in the game get out seventy percent of the time. What's more important, though, is that they get chance after chance to redeem themselves. A batter could strike out three times in a row, but still has the opportunity to win the game with a home run. Just like real life.
A person is like baseball. They can go from goat to hero with just one swing. However, the secret is to keep on swinging.
However, one of the hardest obstacles to overcome is when we feel disappointed in ourselves. Often it's something we said or did, or didn't say or do. Other times it's looking at the so called success of our peers and feeling a sense of failure or incompleteness within our own life.
When this happens, we sometimes find ourselves fighting these feelings of self disappointment with denial or justification or give into it completely by going into depression or self doubt. These are all natural feelings, but ultimately time wasting.
The best way to learn about and overcome disappointment is through baseball. Yes, I said baseball. Look at the facts. The best hitters in the game get out seventy percent of the time. What's more important, though, is that they get chance after chance to redeem themselves. A batter could strike out three times in a row, but still has the opportunity to win the game with a home run. Just like real life.
A person is like baseball. They can go from goat to hero with just one swing. However, the secret is to keep on swinging.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
Meat Eating Vegetarian
I am not a vegetarian, but I could easily become one because I actually like and eat vegetarian dishes more than meat ones. The only thing keeping me from banning meat from my diet is the fact that I like the occasional hamburger and I prefer meat in my lasagna. In fact, I love these two dishes so much that I can honestly say that being a vegetarian is not in my future. I'm also aware of the protein that meat provides and have no time or interest in finding alternative ways to get that protein in my diet.
Sub consciously I think many people think the way I do. Face it, when you're at a gathering and pizza is ordered, it always seems like the chesse or the pizza with the vegetable toppings go first. Likewise at a buffet. There always seems to be meat left at the end of the meal, but the vegetables?
Many people dismiss vegetarians as crack pots or politically correct trouble makers, but the bottom line is that their food is not only good for you, but it also happens to be delicious. I wish that more meat eaters would open their minds to vegetarian eating, for its much more than nibbling on carrots and eating salad and nuts. Much more.
The best way to discover the wonderful world of this misunderstood dining choice is to either have a vegetarian cook for you or go to a vegetarian restuarant. You will discover that what you thought you knew, you really don't know at all.
Sub consciously I think many people think the way I do. Face it, when you're at a gathering and pizza is ordered, it always seems like the chesse or the pizza with the vegetable toppings go first. Likewise at a buffet. There always seems to be meat left at the end of the meal, but the vegetables?
Many people dismiss vegetarians as crack pots or politically correct trouble makers, but the bottom line is that their food is not only good for you, but it also happens to be delicious. I wish that more meat eaters would open their minds to vegetarian eating, for its much more than nibbling on carrots and eating salad and nuts. Much more.
The best way to discover the wonderful world of this misunderstood dining choice is to either have a vegetarian cook for you or go to a vegetarian restuarant. You will discover that what you thought you knew, you really don't know at all.
Thursday, July 15, 2010
My Conversation With Diane Keaton
Having been an actor in New York City in the late 1970's I had an occasional brush with the rich and famous. My acting career was nothing to brag about and many of these celebrity encounters happened during my day job working in a pawn shop on Broadway. From Dr. Ruth to Caroll Spinney (Big Bird), Madonna to Tony Randall, John Lithgow to soap stars Michael Zazlow, Clint Richie, Cindy Pickett and Jerry verDorn, they (and many others) passed through our doors at a regular pace.
It's actually pretty common to see celebrities in New York City. A lot of them live there because they can lead somewhat normal lives without fans bothering them wherever they go. They can do normal things and fit into life like everyone else. And that's exactly what Diane Keaton was doing on the night we met.
My roommate and I were walking down the street and discovered this bowling alley on Amsterdam Ave. We lived near by and didn't know it was there, so we decided to check it out. To our surprise it was pretty crowded.
They sat us in this lane right next to another couple, so we had to share the area that held the bowling balls. It turns out that couple was Diane Keaton and the actor Bob Balaban (Close Encounters of the Third Kind). My roommate and I minded our own business and Ms. Keaton and Mr. Balaban minded theirs, although it was pretty hard not to stare, especially after Diane Keaton would throw a cutter ball - which she did several times.
At one point I was seated right next to her. And that's when it happened. She turned to me and said, "I'm terrible". I responded by saying, "No, you're not".
I lied. My only conversation with Diane Keaton and I lied. Sorry, Diane. I hope you understand. I just didn't have the nerve to tell you that you sucked at bowling.
Anyway, that was the extent of our conversation. It's something I know she has long forgotten, but I'll always cherish that night.
It's actually pretty common to see celebrities in New York City. A lot of them live there because they can lead somewhat normal lives without fans bothering them wherever they go. They can do normal things and fit into life like everyone else. And that's exactly what Diane Keaton was doing on the night we met.
My roommate and I were walking down the street and discovered this bowling alley on Amsterdam Ave. We lived near by and didn't know it was there, so we decided to check it out. To our surprise it was pretty crowded.
They sat us in this lane right next to another couple, so we had to share the area that held the bowling balls. It turns out that couple was Diane Keaton and the actor Bob Balaban (Close Encounters of the Third Kind). My roommate and I minded our own business and Ms. Keaton and Mr. Balaban minded theirs, although it was pretty hard not to stare, especially after Diane Keaton would throw a cutter ball - which she did several times.
At one point I was seated right next to her. And that's when it happened. She turned to me and said, "I'm terrible". I responded by saying, "No, you're not".
I lied. My only conversation with Diane Keaton and I lied. Sorry, Diane. I hope you understand. I just didn't have the nerve to tell you that you sucked at bowling.
Anyway, that was the extent of our conversation. It's something I know she has long forgotten, but I'll always cherish that night.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
To Catch A Ghost, Part 2
Well...the test results say that my house is ghost free.
I had hoped against hope that the cat toys would be in a different location, but they weren't. They were exactly where I had left them. I can't honestly say that I had expected otherwise, but there was the slightest bit of hope that I would be wrong.
Death of a loved one, whether it be a human or a pet is a tramatic experience that takes months, sometimes years to recover from. We cling to the hope that we can still somehow connect - whether spirtually or paranormally, only to discover that in time those feelings often weaken or go away for good.
I'm still not one hundred per cent convinced that a form of Willy isn't floating around my house somewhere, which gives me the sad realization that I haven't fully recovered from the loss.
I had hoped against hope that the cat toys would be in a different location, but they weren't. They were exactly where I had left them. I can't honestly say that I had expected otherwise, but there was the slightest bit of hope that I would be wrong.
Death of a loved one, whether it be a human or a pet is a tramatic experience that takes months, sometimes years to recover from. We cling to the hope that we can still somehow connect - whether spirtually or paranormally, only to discover that in time those feelings often weaken or go away for good.
I'm still not one hundred per cent convinced that a form of Willy isn't floating around my house somewhere, which gives me the sad realization that I haven't fully recovered from the loss.
Monday, February 8, 2010
To Catch A Ghost, Part 1
My cat Willy died several months ago, but I believe his ghost is still hanging around the house. Most mornings my wife thinks that she hears him walking down the stairs and I have often times thought that I heard him playing with his toys in the other room. Also, late at night I often feel him jump onto the bed and go to sleep beside me, just like he did almost every night while he was living.
When Willy was alive, he always seemed to have a connection with outside forces. He would bat at unseen objects and would constantly cry at a blank wall as if something were inside it. Now that he's gone, it almost feels like he's joined that invisible world that he always seemed to be a part of.
My first clue to all of this was right after he died. We had decided that we were done with pets and we threw out all of the cat toys. That night I put the garbage out on the curb like I always do, but in the morning I noticed that many of the cat toys were scattered all over the yard. What made this interesting was that not all of them were out of the trash - only the ones that Willy always played with.
I gathered them up and threw them away again. The next morning, those same cat toys were scattered all over the yard has if they had been played with. This time, I decided to keep a couple of those toys.
Those toys have been sitting in my desk for several months, and I feel it's now time to get them out. Tonight I plan on putting them is different places in the house. The next morning, if Willy is a ghost, the toys should be in a different spot.
I don't know what I'm expecting, but I know what I'm hoping for. Check this blog soon for the results.
When Willy was alive, he always seemed to have a connection with outside forces. He would bat at unseen objects and would constantly cry at a blank wall as if something were inside it. Now that he's gone, it almost feels like he's joined that invisible world that he always seemed to be a part of.
My first clue to all of this was right after he died. We had decided that we were done with pets and we threw out all of the cat toys. That night I put the garbage out on the curb like I always do, but in the morning I noticed that many of the cat toys were scattered all over the yard. What made this interesting was that not all of them were out of the trash - only the ones that Willy always played with.
I gathered them up and threw them away again. The next morning, those same cat toys were scattered all over the yard has if they had been played with. This time, I decided to keep a couple of those toys.
Those toys have been sitting in my desk for several months, and I feel it's now time to get them out. Tonight I plan on putting them is different places in the house. The next morning, if Willy is a ghost, the toys should be in a different spot.
I don't know what I'm expecting, but I know what I'm hoping for. Check this blog soon for the results.
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Holding Onto The Past While Dealing With The Present
My wife and I went out to dinner the other night with another couple. The first twenty minutes all four of us took turns telling each other of the declining health of our mothers. My friend said that his mother has gone down hill so much in the past two years that as far as he's concerned the mother he knew died two years ago.
I don't feel that way about my mother and I hope that I never will, but watching a parent battle the atrocities of father time is an eye opening experience. No one is perfect, but it seems like old age and everything that comes with it, magnifies those imperfections. For what was once a vibrant, fun-loving, life of the party, is many times of late replaced by a nervous, forgetful, mean-spirited, old stranger.
I watched both of my parents take care of their aging parents, so it's not like I didn't have any warning. I think it's just that I, and many other baby boomers just didn't pay attention. And the reality of it all is that now is when my mother needs her family the most.
What makes this hard is that when I visit, I expect to see the healthy person that I've known my whole life. And when that person is replaced by the older and needier version, my own selfish needs suddenly seem more important - or at least easier.
The bottom line is that I know my mother feels a lot worse than I do, both emotionally and physically. And as she moves on to the next level of life, so must I. And I'm finding that as the sick and aging go through denial and acceptance, so do the healthy.
I don't feel that way about my mother and I hope that I never will, but watching a parent battle the atrocities of father time is an eye opening experience. No one is perfect, but it seems like old age and everything that comes with it, magnifies those imperfections. For what was once a vibrant, fun-loving, life of the party, is many times of late replaced by a nervous, forgetful, mean-spirited, old stranger.
I watched both of my parents take care of their aging parents, so it's not like I didn't have any warning. I think it's just that I, and many other baby boomers just didn't pay attention. And the reality of it all is that now is when my mother needs her family the most.
What makes this hard is that when I visit, I expect to see the healthy person that I've known my whole life. And when that person is replaced by the older and needier version, my own selfish needs suddenly seem more important - or at least easier.
The bottom line is that I know my mother feels a lot worse than I do, both emotionally and physically. And as she moves on to the next level of life, so must I. And I'm finding that as the sick and aging go through denial and acceptance, so do the healthy.
Monday, January 18, 2010
The Facebook Curse
At my age, Facebook is a great tool to find and reconnect with long, lost friends.
However, at my age it's also one of the most annoying, addicting, time-wasting creations known to man. And yet, I still find myself each day prying into the lives of those who wish to share their every mundane thought.
On rare occassions I'l get a good laugh, or learn something worthwhile about someone, but most of the time I find myself just shaking my head, for more times than not I learn things about people that I would rather not know.
Through their own words, I have discovered through Facebook that certain family members and friends are immature, insecure, shallow, in constant need of attention, or just plain clueless.
Ultimately, it's my choice on whether or not to endure this torture, so I try to keep quiet, which for me isn't always easy. However, until I have the courage and strength to just walk away from Facebook, I guess I'll have to just keep shaking my head.
However, at my age it's also one of the most annoying, addicting, time-wasting creations known to man. And yet, I still find myself each day prying into the lives of those who wish to share their every mundane thought.
On rare occassions I'l get a good laugh, or learn something worthwhile about someone, but most of the time I find myself just shaking my head, for more times than not I learn things about people that I would rather not know.
Through their own words, I have discovered through Facebook that certain family members and friends are immature, insecure, shallow, in constant need of attention, or just plain clueless.
Ultimately, it's my choice on whether or not to endure this torture, so I try to keep quiet, which for me isn't always easy. However, until I have the courage and strength to just walk away from Facebook, I guess I'll have to just keep shaking my head.
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Cheaters And Heros
All over the news yesterday was the not very surprising confession that Mark McGwire cheated throughout his baseball career. What barely made the news yesterday was the death of Miep Gies.
Miep Gies was a true hero. She was the last surviving member of the family that hid Anne Frank during the Nazi takeover in World War II. She was also responsible for holding onto Anne Frank's diary until her father was released from his imprisonment in a concentration camp.
Mark McGwire made history by cheating, while Miep Gies kept a part of history alive through loyality and bravery.
Mark McGwire knew he was cheating as he stole the legacy of Roger Maris right in front of the Maris family, while Miep Gies knew she was going against a deadly communist government and yet did it for her strong beliefs in what she felt was happening at that time was wrong.
Mark McGwire claims that he cheated because steriods were available and everyone was using them, while Miep Gies risked her life because she had the courage and class to not go along with the crowd.
Mark McGwire makes a tearful apology, wins back a few fans and will most likely end up in the Baseball Hall of Fame, while Meip Gies dies and most of the world could care less.
What is wrong with this picture?
Miep Gies was a true hero. She was the last surviving member of the family that hid Anne Frank during the Nazi takeover in World War II. She was also responsible for holding onto Anne Frank's diary until her father was released from his imprisonment in a concentration camp.
Mark McGwire made history by cheating, while Miep Gies kept a part of history alive through loyality and bravery.
Mark McGwire knew he was cheating as he stole the legacy of Roger Maris right in front of the Maris family, while Miep Gies knew she was going against a deadly communist government and yet did it for her strong beliefs in what she felt was happening at that time was wrong.
Mark McGwire claims that he cheated because steriods were available and everyone was using them, while Miep Gies risked her life because she had the courage and class to not go along with the crowd.
Mark McGwire makes a tearful apology, wins back a few fans and will most likely end up in the Baseball Hall of Fame, while Meip Gies dies and most of the world could care less.
What is wrong with this picture?
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