We Visit An Ancient Town Famous For Its Ceramics - Caltagirone

Nov 6, 2010

On Thursday, November 4th, we decided to take a day trip that we'd repeat to different locations several times during our week in Modica. This day we'd visit another UNESCO World Heritage city - Caltagirone, about an hour's ride from Modica. I didn't mention it previously but this area of southeast Sicily was flattened by a devastating earthquake in 1693. At that time, Sicily was ruled by Spain and the area was rebuilt in the architectural choice of its ruler - Spanish baroque. Thus are these cities wonderful and unique treasures of that style of construction. Nothing remains of the ancient buildings that preceded the earthquake. In that regard, these are all new cities built from the 1700's on.

Caltagirone has been known as a center of ceramics production through the ages. The craft was brought to the region by the Moorish artisans of the Byzantine empire. Local pottery with typical Sicilian subject matter and tiles are produced in studios and shops throughout the city. And the bridges and stairs are decorated with tiles produced by those artists who study at a ceramics school located in this town.

The city's most famous feature is the Scala of Santa Maria del Monte, a fabulous 17th century staircase of seveal hundred steps that ascends to a church of the same name on high. Each riser is decorated with a unique ceramic tile design! The view from on top is breathtaking.

If this were Brooklyn we'd be sipping Americanos in Prospect Perk, our local cafe of choice, but we're in Italy so instead we are Americanos sipping espresso in a cafe in Caltagirone. Huh?
 Remember, you can click on any photo to see it larger and clearer.

Caltagirone - a UNESCO World Heritage town, known through the ages for its ceramics. Even its bridges are decorated with tiles!

Bridge decorations in Caltagirone.  Click the picture to see it larger and clearer.

The 16th century Scala Santa Maria del Monte - each step is decorated with a ceramic tile of unique design.

Each riser's design is different than any other.

Kids run down la scala. We noticed the Star of David design on the bottom step here. Many of these towns in Sicily had Jewish communities in the middle ages. I should note that these tiles are from the modern era and made by contemporary artists of today's Caltagirone.

Tiles on one of the risers. Each riser's design is different than any other's. Click the picture to see it larger and clearer.

That's Brian making his way up the steps.

After our climb up and down la scala, we searched for a restaurant that had been given good reviews online: Il Locandatiere - The Innkeeper. It was said to have good food, typical of the region and specializing in fish: the reviews were right on! Pasta con pesche for Ellen, pasta con vongole (clams) for me, pasta with jackfish for Brian and Stacey also had fish but without the pasta.

Lunch at Il Locandiere - The Innkeeper, a lovely fish restaurant in Caltagirone.  Click the picture to see it larger and clearer.

Here's my spaghetti with vongole (clams).

In one of the city's hundreds of ceramic shops.

We made our way back to our car and the drive home to Modica. Dinner was in a pizzeria in our neighborhood in Alta Modica - simple, cheap and rewarding. Tomorrow, we venture to yet another town, nearby Ragusa. But that's another day. Now for some sweet repose. And buona notte to you my friends, as well.   - da Matteo in Sicilia.

To see ALL of today's Caltagirone photos, simply CLICK HERE!

If It's Tuesday It Must Be Italia

Nov 4, 2010

Hello to my friends and family on the other side of the Atlantic. This is your travelling Blogster, Matteo Weinstein, writing to you from the ancient town of Modica, in Sicily, where we arrived on, um, well, a few days ago. I beg your pardon for not knowing precisely when we arrived here - it was a long, long trip and if you read on you'll understand my confusion.

We left New York on Monday. Our dear friends, Rhonda and Jim, visiting us from Florida and watching our house as we travel, drove us to JFK at 4pm for our six o'clock flight to Milano. Italy is already on standard time so the difference is five hours instead of the usual six (that'll change this Sunday when the U.S. goes back to standard time - a little bit confusing already, no?)

We arrived in Milan the next day, Tuesday, at 7am (2am in NYC - you're getting to understand why I don't now where or when). We then spent a five hour layover at Milano's Malpensa airport so we could catch a one-and-a-half hour flight to Palermo on the isle of Sicilia. After debarking that second flight, we picked up a Renault rental (it's now 3 pm - your time 10 am!) and drove five hours to the southeast side of the island - to our rental home (and to meet our friends Ellen and Brian with whom we are sharing the house) in Modica. Tired? That doesn't begin to describe our state of mind and being.

The ride was exciting ... and challenging. The firt half, to the city of Enna, was on a modern Autostrada, Italy's wonderfully engineered version of our Interstates. Darkness, however, descended around 5:30 and the Autostrada ended along with the daylight.

The balance of our ride was on the tiniest, narrowest, curviest roads that I've ever driven upon. Of course, the car, as most all cars in Europe, is a manual shift. Italian drivers are molto, molto crazy: fast, aggeressive and, it seems, suicidal. They pass at all times: on a straight-away; on a curve; if oncoming cars are visible or not. They ride about 6 inches behind you, just waiting for the opportunity to pass. If a passing car is comingtoward you, it's your responsibility, not his, to hug your shoulder to avoid a collision! Try this sometime in a car your're not familiar with on roads your not familiar with and after having been on two flights that began a day or two ago without more than and hour or so of sleep. So, again, what day is today??!!

Fashionistas and fashion ads in the fashionable Milan airport. Remember, you can click any photo to see it larger with better detail.

Stop number two of a very long travel day(s): Palermo's airport. We're tired! We've been on the go from 3pm the day before - it's now 3 pm the next day! Not there yet. Click the pic to see it larger!

We arrived late that evening having eaten some pizza and panini at a gas station on the road. Brian and Ellen were already ensconced in the lovely apartment that would be our home for the next six days. We talked a while and then turned in to bed and a long-awaited and sweet sleep.

The next day, Wednesday, we spent exploring the town. The town of Modica is one of the reasons people should leave home behind and travel. Life in Modica is so far removed from our lives in Brooklyn that visiting here is a lesson on just how varied in habits, lifestyle and culture our world is. And, at the same time, how much we share with people of different lands and cultures; - from the little things like a sense of humor to the larger qualities of humanity and decency that seem to be part of most people throughout our small world.

Built on the two stunningingly steep sides of a narrow valley, the medievil town is perched precariously on the ledges and cliffs that overhang Modica Bassa - the lower part of the village. Through that lower part of the V that forms this city is Corso Umberto I - the main street and commercial strip with its cafes, bars, restaurants and shops. Up above live the people. Up above are the homes with their tile rooves (not red as is typical in many parts of Europe but a drab tan that, when viewed from afar makes the town look like a city of stone). The houses are ancient, the churches are ancient. The streets, such as they are, are a twisted warren of narrow lanes, passageways, ramps and stairs that, eventually, make their way down to Corso Umberto where people conduct their commercial business. It's our contention that there are no obese people living here - the amount of calories exerted in ascending and descending the steps and streets of this town sees to that.

Our house, at 9 Via Santa Lucia, is a charmingly renovated apartment with a breathtaking view of the town from above. The owner, an artist, has decorated this villa with a modern touch. There are framed photos of famous artists on the walls, a sweet little kitchen, terraces that overlook the town. It's a cozy place to return to after a walk (huff, puff) around town or a day travelling to other locales in the area.

The view from our house in Modica.  Click the picture to see it larger!  

This is our home sweet home: 9 Via Santa Lucia. - yes, this is our "street".

Modica is an ancient Sicilian town.  It's "streets" consist of endless flights of steps connecting a warren of very narrow lanes and and passageways.

Lots and lots of stairs keep Modicans slim and fit.

We set off for an exploratory walk around (and up and down) the town. We pledged to leave our cars parked for the duration as automobiles are not the way to explore this town: first, the streets are terribly clogged with traffic and second, up on the hills it's impossible (at least for us unfamiliar Americans) to venture anywhere by car - the streets are way too narrow.

In our immediate neighborhood stands the ancient church of St. Giorgio - the foundations of which were begun in 1050 A.D. In front of St. Giorgio are some 250 steps descending to the Modica Bassa - this was a really impressive church up on the hill and it stood there gleaming in its brilliant white limestone exterior.

The cathedral of St. Giorgio.

The view from the front of St. Giorgio. This is November - flowers are in full bloom. Click the pic to see it larger!

A lovely piazza on Corso Umberto I, the town's main commercial street - down in the "valley."

We returned home for cocktails and some appetizers before setting out for dinner at a restaurant down (again!) on the main street: the highly-rated Osteria dei Sapori Perduti which served hearty and inexpensive traditional fare - it was basic and very good we all agreed. Corrado, a roving accordionist played some sweet tunes and when I requested Bella Ciao, a song of the anti-fascist partisans of Word War II, he responded with a lovely and passionate rendition.

Corrado plays Bella Ciao for us.

Ellen and Brian and a bottle of Nero D'Avola - made from Sicily's famous grape.

After a bottle of that Sicilian wine, Ellen and Stacey see Corrado in a whole new light -- he's their Italian Mick Jagger. Click the pic to see it larger!

Tomorrow, we visit the Unesco World Heritage town of Caltagirone - known for its fabulous ceramic tiles and pottery. Stay tuned.


To see all of today's photos on my SmugMug site, just CLICK HERE.

Ciao ...  e amore di Matteo

In Memoriam - My Cousin Mort

Mar 15, 2010

My cousin's wife, Sallie, called yesterday. When I picked up the phone and heard her voice, I knew immediately the reason for the call. "Mort passed away last night, peacefully, in his sleep". I knew that that phone call was going to come sooner or later. Stacey and I, you might remember, took a Caribbean cruise a year ago last September. Sallie and Mort were cruise people - they loved it and they had asked us, for the longest time, to join them on one. We did and we had a fabulous and enjoyable trip with them. We talked about doing that again one day - but it was not to be.

When Mort returned home from that trip he developed a strange cough. The diagnosis was lung cancer. For a year-and-a-half he did battle with that cursed disease. But Saturday night it took him away from us - his loved ones. And ones who loved him in return.

Left to right - Stella, my dad's older sister, Morty (Mort), Dolf, his father and Stel's wife.

Mort was 77 years old. As a youngster of ten, I looked up to my handsome 23-year old cousin. He was one of two sons of my father's sister Stella. The Marks family lived in Miami but Mort lived for a while with my Grandma and Grandpa in Brooklyn, attending school. Later on he studied at the Naval Academy - the third member of my extended family to have done so. Even then, he was an off and on again visitor to Brooklyn and the family. So I knew him fairly well.

That early familiarity changed later on. Like many families - folks got married, had kids, moved far away and drifted apart. Fast forward from the 50s to the 90s - that's when we reestablished contact - it was when my dad, who Mort was very fond of, was sick and dying. He wanted to come and visit his Uncle Ben. We maintained our contact after that, becoming close friends, and Mort and then his wife, Sallie (whom we have come to love and who's friendship we cherish) were visitors to our house in Manhattan Beach and then in Prospect Heights. And we returned the visits to their house, outside Montgomery, Alabama. We also spent time at their beautiful Alabama lake house that they had such pride in. Then there was that fun and memorable Caribbean cruise and a final get together at their timeshare in the Poconos. The cancer, by that time, was taking its toll on him along with the chemotherapy and he tired easily. Though he didn't have the energy he was still, as ever, the generous, gracious and welcoming host.

At their time share in Orlando in advance of our cruise to the Caribbean. Click for larger view.

On the cruise - ready for dinner.

The four of us at the Poconos time share. It was two lovely days - but, sadly, the last time we spent time together.

We kept in touch by phone and I found it remarkable that he always sounded so calm. He knew that his time was coming and was, of course, distressed by that -hating that he would not be able to grow old with his family that he adored and who loved him. Yet he still talked about it very matter-of-factly and faced it with a quiet dignity and even optimism that he might yet just pull through. I often wondered, after hearing him, how I would fare contemplating the same enormous weight on me that Mort was facing. I believe it was a mark of his considerate manner and gentleness that he was able to be so peaceful when faced with the certainty of death.

One more observation should be made - he was able in large part, I think, to bear up under such a heavy load because he had his darling Sallie as his companion: a steady and unbending support to lean on. I don't know too many couples who were as loving and caring of each other as were Sallie and Mort.

I've been thinking about my cousin, more or less all day for the past day. I know that Sallie will have a terribly hard time saying goodbye and adjusting to life without Mort because I can feel, in some very small way compared to her, how he impacted my own life. He was a good, kind and decent man. I'm fortunate to have known him - not only as a little boy so many, many years ago - a distant memory now - but as an adult for the past 15 years when he was an important part of our lives.

This is a sad but fond farwell to my dear cousin and friend.

May you rest in peace knowing that you brought joy, good company and kindness to your family and friends.

======

Please CLICK HERE to see more photos of Mort and send any others you'd like me to post.

Send photos to nyccyclist@yahoo.com

A Car Trip To Virginia & Florida Escaping Frigid New York In January 2010

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.

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.

>> 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.

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

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.

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:

"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.

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.