Jan 18, 2010
Brrrr...this has been a frigid winter. But opportunity knocks - Dani's birthday in somewhat warmer southern Virignia - a chance to celebrate with her and Ethan (Erik's away) and then to head even further south to Florida for a visit with Rhonda and Jim and my Aunt Bea.
Here's a slideshow of photos from our trip. Give it a few seconds to load.
Enjoy. - Matt
You can email me.
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Friday, January 15, 2010
Saturday, October 17, 2009
On Being A Grandpa
Oct 17, 2009.
Ethan's in the habit of saying, suddenly, and for no particular reason, this: "I love you Grandpa." The very next moment my heart melts. That's when you know that being a grandpa means you've entered a different period of your life. I look at my daughter - she was the baby once upon a time, many years ago. Here she is, with Erik, taking care of her own baby.
Ethan turned three today. How fast was that? It happened in a blink of the eye. Yet the differences in him from then till today are immense. Looking back at photos that span the three years, one can see the giant changes in my grandson that the day-to-day passage of time has otherwise blurred.
Ethan at birth - October 17, 2006.
It was cold in New York (we saw that we left 37 degrees weather behind). It wasn't much warmer down there - 40's and wet and windy. But seeing our little boy turning three kept out the cold and warmed our hearts. Stacey brought a brisket. Dani had made some chicken soup (delicious! she's taking after her mom when it comes to cooking). We feasted and got the house ready for the Saturday party. And in between, we took Ethan for his second movie (in a theater) -- Where The Wild Things Are. It was a bit too "old" for him. Regardless, he sat through the entire film, asking questions all the way.
Yes, Ethan is talking a blue storm - the chatter is non-stop but filled with brilliant and oftimes hysterical phrases. I'm guessing he's mimicking stuff he hears around the house from mom and dad but when it comes out of his mouth it's just delicious.
I guess you'll say I've said this before -- being a grandpa is just about the greatest thing I can imagine being, doing or becoming. - at his birth; at his first and second birthdays; and now at three. Truth is, it gets better all the time - day by day, month by month and year by year. I look at my grandson and try to imagine him at five, ten and twenty years old ... and I kvell even without actually knowing what he will be like or how he'll turn out. It's just a thing that grandpas think and wonder about. It's part of being a grandpa.
Ethan at three, October 17, 2009.
If you'd like to see more photos from our trip ....
click here -- Album or Slide Show
Ethan's in the habit of saying, suddenly, and for no particular reason, this: "I love you Grandpa." The very next moment my heart melts. That's when you know that being a grandpa means you've entered a different period of your life. I look at my daughter - she was the baby once upon a time, many years ago. Here she is, with Erik, taking care of her own baby.
Ethan turned three today. How fast was that? It happened in a blink of the eye. Yet the differences in him from then till today are immense. Looking back at photos that span the three years, one can see the giant changes in my grandson that the day-to-day passage of time has otherwise blurred.
Ethan at birth - October 17, 2006.>> Note - you can click on any photo to see it larger. <<
Ethan at eight months, June 25, 2007.
Ethan at his 1-year birthday party.
Ethan at two. October 15, 2008.
Even though Stacey just returned from Hampton - helping Dani with a crafts fair at which she was selling the bibs that she creates, (take a look at Dani's Bibs!), we had to return there for the big birthday celebration. So we loaded our car and drove south, stopping overnight to visit friends Ellen and Brian and Cousin Dotty in Arlington. The next morning, onwards to Hampton, three hours beyond.
Ethan at eight months, June 25, 2007.
Ethan at his 1-year birthday party.
Ethan at two. October 15, 2008.Even though Stacey just returned from Hampton - helping Dani with a crafts fair at which she was selling the bibs that she creates, (take a look at Dani's Bibs!), we had to return there for the big birthday celebration. So we loaded our car and drove south, stopping overnight to visit friends Ellen and Brian and Cousin Dotty in Arlington. The next morning, onwards to Hampton, three hours beyond.
It was cold in New York (we saw that we left 37 degrees weather behind). It wasn't much warmer down there - 40's and wet and windy. But seeing our little boy turning three kept out the cold and warmed our hearts. Stacey brought a brisket. Dani had made some chicken soup (delicious! she's taking after her mom when it comes to cooking). We feasted and got the house ready for the Saturday party. And in between, we took Ethan for his second movie (in a theater) -- Where The Wild Things Are. It was a bit too "old" for him. Regardless, he sat through the entire film, asking questions all the way.
Yes, Ethan is talking a blue storm - the chatter is non-stop but filled with brilliant and oftimes hysterical phrases. I'm guessing he's mimicking stuff he hears around the house from mom and dad but when it comes out of his mouth it's just delicious.
Last night, his very last pacifier dropped into the toilet. He cried and cried and insisted on retrieving it. Mama told him he didn't need it any longer; she'd been trying to wean him of it for months. "You're going to be three years old tomorrow. You're going to be a big boy - big boys don't need passies." But Ethan was having none of that - "I'm not a big boy. I'm a wittle boy", he insisted. The other adults (I guess I'm not one of those) often correct his mis-pronunciations. They're teaching him. Not I. I want to hear "wittle" for as long as possible - until he corrects it - I crave those darling Ethanisms! Another one that thrills me - when describing his soon to end only child status - "I'm going to be a big brover. I'm going to have a baby sister-brover." (the sex of the new arrival is still unknown).
I guess you'll say I've said this before -- being a grandpa is just about the greatest thing I can imagine being, doing or becoming. - at his birth; at his first and second birthdays; and now at three. Truth is, it gets better all the time - day by day, month by month and year by year. I look at my grandson and try to imagine him at five, ten and twenty years old ... and I kvell even without actually knowing what he will be like or how he'll turn out. It's just a thing that grandpas think and wonder about. It's part of being a grandpa.
Ethan at three, October 17, 2009.If you'd like to see more photos from our trip ....
click here -- Album or Slide Show
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
A Beautiful Governor
July 24, 2009
And by that I mean a beautiful island. Namely, Governors Island which sits, serenely, off the bottom tip of another island, Manhattan. An island so named, because when the Brits took over from the Dutch in 1674 (after a 10-year period of back-and-forth control), they did so for the “benefit and accommodation of His Majesty's Governors.” Never mind for the benefit of the original people who lived in the area - the Native Americans of Manahatas. The Dutch, efficient (and greedy) businessman that they were, had already purchased the island (which the Native Americans called Pagganck) for "two ax heads, a string of beads, and a handful of nails." It wasn't until 110 years later in 1784, however, that the island officially received its current name: Governors Island. Over the years, the isle served a mostly military purpose. Given its strategic location, forts were built that served to keep the British from even attempting to take New York during the War of 1812. If you're interested in more history than that you can go to the Island's website here.
Now for the real purpose of this post. Wow! This is a fabulous place! It's one of our city's new parks that will offer one a fantastic view and appreciation of our grand and magnificent harbor. Open Fridays and weekends form May 30th to October 11th , one can board a free ferry at the foot of Whitehall Street (just east of the Staten Island Ferry terminal ). You can board the ferry on foot or on bike but, happily, not by car. And you can rent a bike or a 4-wheeled bike-buggy on the island. On Fridays, bike rentals are even free but get there early as they go fast.
This place is a magical gem with a new and spectacular view at every turn in the road that one uses to circumnavigate the island. Here there are concerts, a sand "beach" (no swimming), free kayaks, art exhibits, cafes and food concessions and the most marvelous picnic locations, complete with sprawling lawns, lovely old shade trees, tables, benches and glorious hammocks! Then again, you can picnic in Nolan Park in the center of the island. A lovely oasis of towering London plane trees on each side of the center common are bordered with 19th century Victorian frame houses, used by the officers who inhabited this place once upon a time. Set up your picnic right on one of the porches and relax in the shade of the trees. If you want to avoid crazy crowds, you're probably better off on a Friday than a weekend.
Stacey and I started out on Friday morning. We mounted our bikes and headed for the Brooklyn Bridge, about three miles from our home in Prospect Heights. Though we've ridden over the bridge countless times, it's still a thrill. The views of lower Manhattan, the East River, the poetic structure of the bridge itself are always inspring.
(Note: You can click on any photo to see it larger). Stacey leads the way as we biked across the Brooklyn Bridge - awe-inspiring visit in its own right. Destination - Governors Island.
Biking the Brooklyn Bridge is a trip back to the late 1800's - a gargantuan stone structure that has stood the test of time. Just a few years later, the Williamsburg Bridge was constructed all of steel.
Midway across the bridge we stop to view our destination - that verdant island on the horizon in the middle of the harbor The large construction site just below is a future section of the miles-long Brooklyn Bridge Park that is being built along the East River.
We biked down Broadway and reached the ferry which is free and runs every hour on the hour (island bound).
"All 'board!"
"Are there sharks in the water? Can you ride a bike over there? Where are the bikes? What would happen if we fell in the water here?" And a hundred other questions.
A view off the port side of the ferry with a view up the East River to the Brooklyn, Manhattan and Williamsburg Bridges.
Leaving Manhattan behind.
When you finish the short ferry ride and exit the ferry, it feels a bit like you're immigrants, newly-arrived at Ellis Island. People pour off the boat, on foot and bike, and look around, puzzled about what to do and where to go. Maps are available and friendly staff are all about to answer your queries.
"OK, we're here. Now what?"
After a stop in the bathroom, Stacey and I set off to explore the island. A bike path beckoned to the left and off we went. This appeared to be the circumferential road. We wanted to make a loop - several miles around - to see the views it afforded. Then we'd check out a bit of the island's interior. The park is still a work in progress - much of it is off bounds as old Coast Guard buildings and facilities are renovated and made accessible to the public. But already the park incorporates a large expanse of recreational space including the 2.2 mile "Great Promenade" which we were setting off on our bikes.
A view across the harbor and up the East River. Benches and picnc spots abound on the Great Promenade that rings the island.
Say, that's cool! These 4-wheeled, 4-person bike buggies are for rent - free on Fridays - for those of you who don't know how to balance on two wheels.
You're in for a treat when you come around the southern tip of the island. (Remember to click any photo for a larger version).
As we continue around the island, an awesome view of Manhattan.
Stacey rounds the northwest corner of the island at Castle Williams which protected the city from British invasion in 1812.
We finished our ride with an brief exploration of the center of the island. Here we discovered more charm: Colonel's Row and Nolan's Park - both lined with 19th century officers' homes and the Parade Grounds, a vast expanse of lawn. There's also a public school that served the children of Coast Guard service personnel and a movie theater that was showing a scary summer thriller. All these are free for you to enter and explore.
Colonel's Row, in the center of the island, with tree-shaded walkways, beautiful old houses and plenty of room for picnics or exploring.
Whoa! A giant ship appears and docks across Buttermilk Channel in Brooklyn. The scale and scope of the harbor is enormous when viewed from this location.
We stopped at the Water Taxi sand beach (one of several throughout the city). This is equipped with, yes, sand and picnic tables. Adjacent is a hot dog stand where we stopped for a frank and a ice cold one before boarding the ferry back to Manhattan.
Nolan Park, surrounded by 19th century homes. One can sit on a porch and relax of have a picnic.
The Water Taxi sand "beach," with picnic tables, food concession and a palm tree.
It was a perfect few hours. The day had threatened rain with ominous clouds as we started out but, as seems to happen lately, had turned into a clear blue sky with puffy white clouds. We promised to return to explore some more. This is a great NYC destination that you should put on the top of your list for things to do and see in our city. See you on the bike path! - Matt
P.S. To see all my photos of Governors Island, click here for a SLIDE SHOW or here to visit the PHOTO GALLERY.
And by that I mean a beautiful island. Namely, Governors Island which sits, serenely, off the bottom tip of another island, Manhattan. An island so named, because when the Brits took over from the Dutch in 1674 (after a 10-year period of back-and-forth control), they did so for the “benefit and accommodation of His Majesty's Governors.” Never mind for the benefit of the original people who lived in the area - the Native Americans of Manahatas. The Dutch, efficient (and greedy) businessman that they were, had already purchased the island (which the Native Americans called Pagganck) for "two ax heads, a string of beads, and a handful of nails." It wasn't until 110 years later in 1784, however, that the island officially received its current name: Governors Island. Over the years, the isle served a mostly military purpose. Given its strategic location, forts were built that served to keep the British from even attempting to take New York during the War of 1812. If you're interested in more history than that you can go to the Island's website here.
Now for the real purpose of this post. Wow! This is a fabulous place! It's one of our city's new parks that will offer one a fantastic view and appreciation of our grand and magnificent harbor. Open Fridays and weekends form May 30th to October 11th , one can board a free ferry at the foot of Whitehall Street (just east of the Staten Island Ferry terminal ). You can board the ferry on foot or on bike but, happily, not by car. And you can rent a bike or a 4-wheeled bike-buggy on the island. On Fridays, bike rentals are even free but get there early as they go fast.
This place is a magical gem with a new and spectacular view at every turn in the road that one uses to circumnavigate the island. Here there are concerts, a sand "beach" (no swimming), free kayaks, art exhibits, cafes and food concessions and the most marvelous picnic locations, complete with sprawling lawns, lovely old shade trees, tables, benches and glorious hammocks! Then again, you can picnic in Nolan Park in the center of the island. A lovely oasis of towering London plane trees on each side of the center common are bordered with 19th century Victorian frame houses, used by the officers who inhabited this place once upon a time. Set up your picnic right on one of the porches and relax in the shade of the trees. If you want to avoid crazy crowds, you're probably better off on a Friday than a weekend.
Stacey and I started out on Friday morning. We mounted our bikes and headed for the Brooklyn Bridge, about three miles from our home in Prospect Heights. Though we've ridden over the bridge countless times, it's still a thrill. The views of lower Manhattan, the East River, the poetic structure of the bridge itself are always inspring.
(Note: You can click on any photo to see it larger). Stacey leads the way as we biked across the Brooklyn Bridge - awe-inspiring visit in its own right. Destination - Governors Island.
Biking the Brooklyn Bridge is a trip back to the late 1800's - a gargantuan stone structure that has stood the test of time. Just a few years later, the Williamsburg Bridge was constructed all of steel.Midway across the bridge we stop to view our destination - that verdant island on the horizon in the middle of the harbor The large construction site just below is a future section of the miles-long Brooklyn Bridge Park that is being built along the East River.
We biked down Broadway and reached the ferry which is free and runs every hour on the hour (island bound).
"All 'board!"
"Are there sharks in the water? Can you ride a bike over there? Where are the bikes? What would happen if we fell in the water here?" And a hundred other questions.
A view off the port side of the ferry with a view up the East River to the Brooklyn, Manhattan and Williamsburg Bridges.
Leaving Manhattan behind.When you finish the short ferry ride and exit the ferry, it feels a bit like you're immigrants, newly-arrived at Ellis Island. People pour off the boat, on foot and bike, and look around, puzzled about what to do and where to go. Maps are available and friendly staff are all about to answer your queries.
"OK, we're here. Now what?"After a stop in the bathroom, Stacey and I set off to explore the island. A bike path beckoned to the left and off we went. This appeared to be the circumferential road. We wanted to make a loop - several miles around - to see the views it afforded. Then we'd check out a bit of the island's interior. The park is still a work in progress - much of it is off bounds as old Coast Guard buildings and facilities are renovated and made accessible to the public. But already the park incorporates a large expanse of recreational space including the 2.2 mile "Great Promenade" which we were setting off on our bikes.
A view across the harbor and up the East River. Benches and picnc spots abound on the Great Promenade that rings the island.
Say, that's cool! These 4-wheeled, 4-person bike buggies are for rent - free on Fridays - for those of you who don't know how to balance on two wheels.
You're in for a treat when you come around the southern tip of the island. (Remember to click any photo for a larger version).
As we continue around the island, an awesome view of Manhattan.
Stacey rounds the northwest corner of the island at Castle Williams which protected the city from British invasion in 1812.
We finished our ride with an brief exploration of the center of the island. Here we discovered more charm: Colonel's Row and Nolan's Park - both lined with 19th century officers' homes and the Parade Grounds, a vast expanse of lawn. There's also a public school that served the children of Coast Guard service personnel and a movie theater that was showing a scary summer thriller. All these are free for you to enter and explore.
Colonel's Row, in the center of the island, with tree-shaded walkways, beautiful old houses and plenty of room for picnics or exploring.
Whoa! A giant ship appears and docks across Buttermilk Channel in Brooklyn. The scale and scope of the harbor is enormous when viewed from this location.We stopped at the Water Taxi sand beach (one of several throughout the city). This is equipped with, yes, sand and picnic tables. Adjacent is a hot dog stand where we stopped for a frank and a ice cold one before boarding the ferry back to Manhattan.
Nolan Park, surrounded by 19th century homes. One can sit on a porch and relax of have a picnic.
The Water Taxi sand "beach," with picnic tables, food concession and a palm tree.It was a perfect few hours. The day had threatened rain with ominous clouds as we started out but, as seems to happen lately, had turned into a clear blue sky with puffy white clouds. We promised to return to explore some more. This is a great NYC destination that you should put on the top of your list for things to do and see in our city. See you on the bike path! - Matt
P.S. To see all my photos of Governors Island, click here for a SLIDE SHOW or here to visit the PHOTO GALLERY.
Saturday, April 04, 2009
Why I March Today
Apr 4, 2009
I'm marching today in New York City. I'm marching against the continued war in Iraq and against an escalated war in Afghanistan.
Here's why.
I celebrated (like most Americans) the election of our new President. And I breathed a huge sigh of relief at the end of our national nightmare - the bad dream that was the ugly and frightening reality of the Bush regime. I worked for that election. Stacey and I spent a day in Philadelphia to help determine, in some small way, the outcome in the swing state of Pennsylvania.
With the election of Barack Obama, Americans were saying that they had had enough! Enough of war. Enough of the racism that had divided our land for so long. Enough. They wanted to restore our country's image in the eyes of the world. They voted to turn it in a different direction than Bush and his gang had taken it. They wanted to, it seemed to me, begin directing our national treasure toward meeting the dire needs of our people: for universal health care, for a revitalized system of education, for affordable housing.
This election took place with the war and occupation of Iraq raging in the background. That was, perhaps, the single most important and glaring difference between the candidacies of Obama and McCain. Obama wanted to end that tragic and immoral episode in our nation's history not only because it was wrong but because it was robbing our country of any possible solution to the economic crisis that stalking the land. McCain, on the other hand, wanted to press on in Bush's "war on terror."
Brooklynites mark the death of the 3,000th U.S soldier and the countless Iraqis who died in that war. Today, the count is well over 4,0000 and the war continues.
Today, sadly, the war in Iraq is far from over. Though he promised to begin the withdrawal of U.S. troops from the day he was elected at the rate of one briagade per month,virtually none have returned home since inauguration. And even at the end of President Obama's planned withdrawal, 50,000 U.S. troops will remain in that country - rebranded as "advisers" by a Pentagon that insists on keeping a toehold in that oil-rich country.
Then there is Afghanistan. The so-called "good" war; the war that some insisted should have been fought in the first place after the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York. According to press reports, Mr. Obama, ignoring the advice of his Vice-President not to get involved in a morass that history has shown it to be, has sided with his generals who, stupidly and blindly, see a military solution to the deteriorating situation in that country and, beyond, to Pakistan.
This escalation in Afghanistan will be, in the prediction of many, a tragic mistake. It brings to mind the history of the Johnson administration which had made plans for a War On Poverty and a Great Society only to find them dashed on the rocks of the Vietnam war. The question raised then was whether we could have both "guns and butter. The answer that history supplied was an emphatic "NO."
There is no military solution to be imposed in Afghanistan. As Obama told us during the campaign, negotiation not endless war is the way forward. But if that's so, why allow the generals to send another 24,000 U.S. troops to a conflict that we are already losing? Sending more troops is a slippery slope that has a motive force and a driving logic all its own. And it's counter-productive: A recent BBC and ABC poll showed that 70% of Afghans are opposed to an increase in U.S. troops. Instead of overcoming our enemy, an escalation with its increase in misery and death for the beleaguered population will only serve to strenghten the Taliban and Al Queda by driving new recruits their way.
And these wars will continue to rob our country of the funds we need to solve the problems that are overwhelming us: increasing joblessness, lack of decent and affordable housing, a school sytem in dire need of resources and a health care system that is the disgrace of the industrialized world. Just as LBJ's Great Society foundered on the funding of the Vietnam War, so surely will Obama's grand and needed reforms collapse on the continuation of the Iraq and Afghanistan debacles.
Martin Luther King said it far more eloquently than I could ever write when he parted company in 1967 from the other civil rights leaders. In his famous "Beyond Vietnam" speech on April 4th of that year in New York's Riverside Church he said:
That is why I march today. I want to guarantee that the most progressive president this country has ever seen is successful in turning our country around and leading us to a new society that values its people more than its material things, or as Dr. King so profoundly said in 1967 "we need to rapidly begin the shift from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society."
If you're in New York, you can join the march by gathering on White Street (2 blocks south of Canal Street) between Broadway and Lafayette at 11 am. One of Dr. King's associates and a pioneer of our civil rights movement, Rev. James Lawson, will be walking with us. I suspect that Dr. King would have been marchng for peace today as well.
I'm marching today in New York City. I'm marching against the continued war in Iraq and against an escalated war in Afghanistan.
Here's why.
I celebrated (like most Americans) the election of our new President. And I breathed a huge sigh of relief at the end of our national nightmare - the bad dream that was the ugly and frightening reality of the Bush regime. I worked for that election. Stacey and I spent a day in Philadelphia to help determine, in some small way, the outcome in the swing state of Pennsylvania.
With the election of Barack Obama, Americans were saying that they had had enough! Enough of war. Enough of the racism that had divided our land for so long. Enough. They wanted to restore our country's image in the eyes of the world. They voted to turn it in a different direction than Bush and his gang had taken it. They wanted to, it seemed to me, begin directing our national treasure toward meeting the dire needs of our people: for universal health care, for a revitalized system of education, for affordable housing.
This election took place with the war and occupation of Iraq raging in the background. That was, perhaps, the single most important and glaring difference between the candidacies of Obama and McCain. Obama wanted to end that tragic and immoral episode in our nation's history not only because it was wrong but because it was robbing our country of any possible solution to the economic crisis that stalking the land. McCain, on the other hand, wanted to press on in Bush's "war on terror."
Brooklynites mark the death of the 3,000th U.S soldier and the countless Iraqis who died in that war. Today, the count is well over 4,0000 and the war continues.Today, sadly, the war in Iraq is far from over. Though he promised to begin the withdrawal of U.S. troops from the day he was elected at the rate of one briagade per month,virtually none have returned home since inauguration. And even at the end of President Obama's planned withdrawal, 50,000 U.S. troops will remain in that country - rebranded as "advisers" by a Pentagon that insists on keeping a toehold in that oil-rich country.
Then there is Afghanistan. The so-called "good" war; the war that some insisted should have been fought in the first place after the attacks on the World Trade Center in New York. According to press reports, Mr. Obama, ignoring the advice of his Vice-President not to get involved in a morass that history has shown it to be, has sided with his generals who, stupidly and blindly, see a military solution to the deteriorating situation in that country and, beyond, to Pakistan.
This escalation in Afghanistan will be, in the prediction of many, a tragic mistake. It brings to mind the history of the Johnson administration which had made plans for a War On Poverty and a Great Society only to find them dashed on the rocks of the Vietnam war. The question raised then was whether we could have both "guns and butter. The answer that history supplied was an emphatic "NO."
There is no military solution to be imposed in Afghanistan. As Obama told us during the campaign, negotiation not endless war is the way forward. But if that's so, why allow the generals to send another 24,000 U.S. troops to a conflict that we are already losing? Sending more troops is a slippery slope that has a motive force and a driving logic all its own. And it's counter-productive: A recent BBC and ABC poll showed that 70% of Afghans are opposed to an increase in U.S. troops. Instead of overcoming our enemy, an escalation with its increase in misery and death for the beleaguered population will only serve to strenghten the Taliban and Al Queda by driving new recruits their way.
And these wars will continue to rob our country of the funds we need to solve the problems that are overwhelming us: increasing joblessness, lack of decent and affordable housing, a school sytem in dire need of resources and a health care system that is the disgrace of the industrialized world. Just as LBJ's Great Society foundered on the funding of the Vietnam War, so surely will Obama's grand and needed reforms collapse on the continuation of the Iraq and Afghanistan debacles.
Martin Luther King said it far more eloquently than I could ever write when he parted company in 1967 from the other civil rights leaders. In his famous "Beyond Vietnam" speech on April 4th of that year in New York's Riverside Church he said:
"Now, it should be incandescently clear that no one who has any concern for the integrity and life of America today can ignore the present war. If America's soul becomes totally poisoned, part of the autopsy must read Vietnam. It can never be saved so long as it destroys the deepest hopes of men the world over. So it is that those of us who are yet determined that America will be are led down the path of protest and dissent, working for the health of our land."
A nation that continues year after year to spend more money on military defense than on programs of social uplift is approaching spiritual death."
That is why I march today. I want to guarantee that the most progressive president this country has ever seen is successful in turning our country around and leading us to a new society that values its people more than its material things, or as Dr. King so profoundly said in 1967 "we need to rapidly begin the shift from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society."If you're in New York, you can join the march by gathering on White Street (2 blocks south of Canal Street) between Broadway and Lafayette at 11 am. One of Dr. King's associates and a pioneer of our civil rights movement, Rev. James Lawson, will be walking with us. I suspect that Dr. King would have been marchng for peace today as well.
Monday, February 02, 2009
Groundhog Day, 2009
Feb 2, 2009
Winter took a break today with temperatures finally climbing to the low 50's. But the bucktoothed rodent in Punxatauney, Pennsylvania reportedly saw his shadow as he crawled out of his burrow, meaning we're in for six more weeks of winter. Never mind, I hopped on my bike to enjoy the respite from the frigid cold as well as to see if I could find any hints of spring in nearby Prospect Park.
It was a beautiful day but the park flora was still sound asleep. I thought I might find some crocus shoots poking their heads above ground, but a frozen pond, some unmelted snow and lots of wet meadow and mud were all I could see. As for animal life, there were plenty of us humans who, like me, were out to enjoy the warmth and a remarkable scene on the pond -- thousands of birds sunning themselves on its frozen surface.
Prospect Park Pond - frozen on February 2nd. Home to thousands of birds.
Goose, Goose, Gull ... and many more on the frozen pond in Prospect Park.
Canadian Honking Geese - gingerly step out onto the ice of Prospect Park Pond.
Oh my! It's a goose parade.
Early signs of spring? Not really - I searched throughout the Park on a 53 degree February 2nd, but to no avail: not one solitary shoot has appeared. Perhaps another week or so. But in our very own front yard bulb shoots have been coming up since December ... probably due not to forthcoming spring but rather to not having been buried deeply enough when planted last fall.
Bulb shoots in our front yard - but a sign of spring? Not.
Winter took a break today with temperatures finally climbing to the low 50's. But the bucktoothed rodent in Punxatauney, Pennsylvania reportedly saw his shadow as he crawled out of his burrow, meaning we're in for six more weeks of winter. Never mind, I hopped on my bike to enjoy the respite from the frigid cold as well as to see if I could find any hints of spring in nearby Prospect Park.
It was a beautiful day but the park flora was still sound asleep. I thought I might find some crocus shoots poking their heads above ground, but a frozen pond, some unmelted snow and lots of wet meadow and mud were all I could see. As for animal life, there were plenty of us humans who, like me, were out to enjoy the warmth and a remarkable scene on the pond -- thousands of birds sunning themselves on its frozen surface.
Prospect Park Pond - frozen on February 2nd. Home to thousands of birds.
Goose, Goose, Gull ... and many more on the frozen pond in Prospect Park.
Canadian Honking Geese - gingerly step out onto the ice of Prospect Park Pond.
Oh my! It's a goose parade. Early signs of spring? Not really - I searched throughout the Park on a 53 degree February 2nd, but to no avail: not one solitary shoot has appeared. Perhaps another week or so. But in our very own front yard bulb shoots have been coming up since December ... probably due not to forthcoming spring but rather to not having been buried deeply enough when planted last fall.
Bulb shoots in our front yard - but a sign of spring? Not.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Meet The Candidate - Finley Ray Clark
Nov 2, 2008
Yesterday was the NYC Marathon. Yessir! Forty Thousand runners dashing through the streets of New York. Coincidentally, it was also the day that the Clark family, Chiara and Tom, came into town from Boston with their adorable new baby, Finley Ray Clark. Problem was - how to get from here (the Republic of Brooklyn) to there ("the City", a k a Manhattan). Driving was out of the question as the uncrossable path of the marathon cut a swath clear across our borough, preventing access to any of the East River crossings. So we'll take the subway. No big deal. Um, wrong. Very big deal. Lori (grandmother of the new baby and mother of Chiara) told Stacey (wife of the Blogster) to take the Lexington Avenue line but to get off at 59th Street. This would allow us to take the 31 bus eastbound on 57th Street and up York Avenue to their house on 86th Street on the east side of First Avenue. The runners would be coming across the River from Queens at 58th and then heading uptown until 125th street thus making 57th the lowest street on which one would be able to navigate east all the way past First Avenue. I protested what I thought was surely a hair-brained idea.:Take the train only to 59th Street and then a bus? I'm sure we'll be able to cross First Avenue at 86th. That's Mile 18 and by that time the runners should be thinned out giving us a chance to make a dash across the avenue. Right?
Wrong! We took the Lex to 86th Street and, right away, it didn't look good. Hoards of spectators got off the train with us and headed over to First Avenue. When we arrived there the crowds were 10 deep at the curb and kept from crossing the street by hundreds of cops and interlocking barriers. The runners, never mind, were streaming up First by the hundreds and hundreds with nary a break for a humble resident (or party-goer) to get across. Oy. We stood, along with spectators and others (those, like us, who simply wanted to cross First Avenue) for a while. Making conversation with other stranded ones, one nice woman told us she'd been trying to cross for an hour, to no avail. Likewise, a young woman (with no coat on and it was cold!) who had just gone out for a cup of coffee and couldn't return. The four of us decided to do what Stacey and I should have done in the first place - get back to 57th Street and take that bus to deliver us to the east side of First Avenue and Peter and Lori's apartment house (which was staring us in the face just a few yards away - so close, yet so far!
To make a long story short - we boarded the Second Avenue bus (no charge - thanks Marathon!) and took it south from 86th street to 57th Street. As we crossed Second Avenue, after deboarding the bus, I spied the much-needed 31 Bus in the bus stop. We ran ... and missed it as it pulled out heading toward York Avenue! It would be half an hour until another arrived. Guess what? No taxis either - every single one of the hundreds passing us was occupied or off duty. It was cold and windy and I wasn't dressed properly (who woulda guessed I'd be standing outside for an hour or so). Neither was the young woman who accompanied us so Stacey offered her a scarf (at least). Finally, finally - an available taxi. "No, I won't go uptown - it's a mess up there!" Aarrgh! This is going from worse to worst! At that moment, however, and thankfully, the next 31 Bus pulled up and on we got. it was now close to 1:30 and we were an hour and half late for the party. But we had met some nice people that we shared the time (and adversity) with. I handed out some extra Obama buttons that were a big hit with our fellow travellers and we finally reached our destination.
Oh yes the party. And Finley! Well, it was worth the travail. We greeted the family and old friends, ate from Lori's wonderful spread - We had developed quite an appetite. And took some photos which I'd like to share with you. Just CLICK the photo below for a slide show of the day's events. - Matt
Meet Finley Clark - a beautiful baby girl. And her mother, Chiara.
Yesterday was the NYC Marathon. Yessir! Forty Thousand runners dashing through the streets of New York. Coincidentally, it was also the day that the Clark family, Chiara and Tom, came into town from Boston with their adorable new baby, Finley Ray Clark. Problem was - how to get from here (the Republic of Brooklyn) to there ("the City", a k a Manhattan). Driving was out of the question as the uncrossable path of the marathon cut a swath clear across our borough, preventing access to any of the East River crossings. So we'll take the subway. No big deal. Um, wrong. Very big deal. Lori (grandmother of the new baby and mother of Chiara) told Stacey (wife of the Blogster) to take the Lexington Avenue line but to get off at 59th Street. This would allow us to take the 31 bus eastbound on 57th Street and up York Avenue to their house on 86th Street on the east side of First Avenue. The runners would be coming across the River from Queens at 58th and then heading uptown until 125th street thus making 57th the lowest street on which one would be able to navigate east all the way past First Avenue. I protested what I thought was surely a hair-brained idea.:Take the train only to 59th Street and then a bus? I'm sure we'll be able to cross First Avenue at 86th. That's Mile 18 and by that time the runners should be thinned out giving us a chance to make a dash across the avenue. Right?
Wrong! We took the Lex to 86th Street and, right away, it didn't look good. Hoards of spectators got off the train with us and headed over to First Avenue. When we arrived there the crowds were 10 deep at the curb and kept from crossing the street by hundreds of cops and interlocking barriers. The runners, never mind, were streaming up First by the hundreds and hundreds with nary a break for a humble resident (or party-goer) to get across. Oy. We stood, along with spectators and others (those, like us, who simply wanted to cross First Avenue) for a while. Making conversation with other stranded ones, one nice woman told us she'd been trying to cross for an hour, to no avail. Likewise, a young woman (with no coat on and it was cold!) who had just gone out for a cup of coffee and couldn't return. The four of us decided to do what Stacey and I should have done in the first place - get back to 57th Street and take that bus to deliver us to the east side of First Avenue and Peter and Lori's apartment house (which was staring us in the face just a few yards away - so close, yet so far!
To make a long story short - we boarded the Second Avenue bus (no charge - thanks Marathon!) and took it south from 86th street to 57th Street. As we crossed Second Avenue, after deboarding the bus, I spied the much-needed 31 Bus in the bus stop. We ran ... and missed it as it pulled out heading toward York Avenue! It would be half an hour until another arrived. Guess what? No taxis either - every single one of the hundreds passing us was occupied or off duty. It was cold and windy and I wasn't dressed properly (who woulda guessed I'd be standing outside for an hour or so). Neither was the young woman who accompanied us so Stacey offered her a scarf (at least). Finally, finally - an available taxi. "No, I won't go uptown - it's a mess up there!" Aarrgh! This is going from worse to worst! At that moment, however, and thankfully, the next 31 Bus pulled up and on we got. it was now close to 1:30 and we were an hour and half late for the party. But we had met some nice people that we shared the time (and adversity) with. I handed out some extra Obama buttons that were a big hit with our fellow travellers and we finally reached our destination.
Oh yes the party. And Finley! Well, it was worth the travail. We greeted the family and old friends, ate from Lori's wonderful spread - We had developed quite an appetite. And took some photos which I'd like to share with you. Just CLICK the photo below for a slide show of the day's events. - Matt
Meet Finley Clark - a beautiful baby girl. And her mother, Chiara.
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