Higher Ground

Julie's niece, Ashley graduated from Mount Ida College (Newton, MA - 1899) on May 18th. One of 213 students to receive a Bachelor of Arts degree, Ashley completed her studies in the School of Design.

Her proud parents, Rob & Lori, held a brunch in her honor on Monday and we were fortunate enough to attend. Ashley is a lovely young woman with a warm heart and a mind to match. She's going to be a dynamo in this world, for sure!

Dr. Carol J. Matteson, president of Mount Ida College, applauded the achievements of the Class of 2007. “You’ve come to the end of a short journey, and the beginning of a much longer adventure,” she said. “As you commence, be imaginative, flexible and inspired by those around you. Use time wisely and be inspiring to all you meet. You entered this college with great hopes, dreams and potential and today those hopes, dreams and potential have been realized.” (MT Ida website).

Amen, to that.

Happy Birthday to the Ol' Man

He'd of been 91 today and no doubt would have greeted me with a big smile. Probably would have had a new golf grip for me as well.

It's coming up on 13 years since he departed, but the reports from my siblings confirm that he is still imparting his wisdom upon us all. Sometimes the voice is a bit faint, but if you listen you can hear him.

Happy Birthday, Papa!

Letting the Days Go By

Friday afternoon the temperature hit a record high of 93 in Vernon. Pretty darn hot for May 25th. Truffle and I found a quite spot along the Beldon Brook to chill out and cool down - "let the water hold me down". (Bryne & Eno)

Lest We Forget

"Let no vandalism of avarice or neglect, no ravages of time testify to the present or to the coming generations that we have forgotten as a people the cost of a free and undivided republic." -- General John A. Logan, Union Army, 1868.

30,000 Feet Over Kansas

Passing over Kansas the earth is quilted with farmland as far as the eye can see. There are patches of striped cornfields, squares of wheat fields, and circles of the same. Circles fed by an underground aquifer that make for riches where families once perished at the hands of devastating dust storms. Everywhere are the circles.

I first noticed the geometric plots while sitting in a plane headed to Denver from Connecticut. I was seated next to a man rotting of cancer who had just sold his house, gave away his cat, and parted with his fishing buddy of 50 years. He was going to live out his last days with an estranged daughter and 2 grandsons.

From Hartford to the Mississippi he told me stories of his life. He had been a widower for the last 20 years ("wake in the morning, put my feet on the floor, and think of her everyday"), his brother died of drinking at age 51 ("I've never been drunk"), heavy smoker (lung cancer), lifelong resident of Trumbull ("Connecticut is God's country"), his cat Garfield has legs so short and fat he couldn't go down the stairs without tumbling ("had to put carpeting on the stairs to soften the fall"), fished Lake Champlain near Highgate Springs every year for 30 years with his best friend, malcontent daughter left home long ago but now trying to make things right by bringing him to Colorado Springs, grandsons are 8 and 12 and planning on building a swing for the youngest, oldest needs a haircut. Takes too many damn pills!

Over Kansas, I thought about what he had told me and I saw his stories in the patches of earth below. I could see the verdant circles fed by the life giving waters bubbling underneath the surface. I could see the forces of nature at work in a river that interrupted man's design to build a life of perfect squares and identical circles. I could see the fallowed fields laying dormant in the midday sun. The green fields of our youth, the river of twisted turns in our life, the barren soils of our aging. A lifetime on a patch of earth.

He spoke so fondly of his best friend. Packing was easy, it was saying goodbye that was difficult. The two of them fished together most every day and kept each other company in the absence of others. He told me a couple of "big catch" tales and we held a living wake for his lifelong pal. The days of throwing out a line were just about over.

The picture above was taken on Thursday. The conversation with my flying friend was 15 years ago. I am sure he has long since passed away. God rest his soul.

Postlude: The circles brought back the memories, and got me to thinking about fishing oddly enough. I think we are all fisherman in life - casting for compliments, fishing for friendships. Words and deeds are our bait. The better souls among us skip the rod and toss out a net to entangle schools of the needy. They scoop us up in bundles - trollers of love. Apostles all.

I Don't Care if I Never Get Back

I wrote a blog a few weeks back reviling the new tradition of singing horseshit patriotic songs at the start of and during athletic events. The number one culprit being professional baseball pushing Ronan Tynan's version of God Bless America during the 7th inning stretch. It was appropriate for the first Yankee's game after 9-11, but can we please move on, people!

Think about it, you go to the stadium to lose your identity and fantasize about being a part of the game 18 guys are playing between the lines. As a spectator you are there for the diversion, the excitement, the fun. And while you are having a ball, 7 beers and 6 1/2 innings later, crowd control makes you stand up and sing a song to honor the dead. Thanks a lot guys, just when I was getting up the nerve (and alcohol level) to tell Barry Bonds he sucks, you want me to think about dying. Oh, this is fun! Why not tack up a few Osama Bin Laden wanted posters and really bring me down?

Well, I think the tide is turning and someone in San Francisco is reading my blog(not!). At the Giants game on Tuesday night, an impromptu acapella group of little leaguers rocked AT&T Park with their rendition of Take Me Out to the Ballgame. It was awesome. The kids lit up the stadium with their infectious enthusiasm for the hometown team and a great night of baseball. No silencing the crowd, no tipping of the cap, no mention of death.

For it's one, two, three strikes you're out at the old ballgame!

Break Through Moments

USA Today published a list of the top of inventions that have changed our lives since 1982 - Eureka Moments in their words. Number 1, according to them, is the cellphone. Number 2 is the laptop. Other items include the Blackberry, TiVo, DVDs, iPod and satellite TV. I think the list was compiled by Inspector Gadget.

But in my mind, "Go-Go" Gadget left off two of my favorites - rolling luggage and the finger drum mousepad (shown above). How does TiVo, with only 4,000,000 subscribers, bump Samsonite with whitewalls from the list? In the U.S. alone, there are more than half a billion airline travelers a year and the savvy ones don't lug a bag.

The wheel was actually invented by a guy in Mesopotamia around 3500 BC. What kind of collective mental block did we have to miss this great idea for over 5500 years?

No one owns the finger drum mousepad yet; our brightest scientist just perfected it. But give it a little time on the market and all your co-workers will be tapping "Wipe Out" Oh, I can't wait to see how this little gadget changes the world over the next 25 years.

How bored are we really?

Free Pass

I took in the San Francisco Giants baseball game tonight against the Houston Astros. I was hoping to catch a glimpse of history as Barry Bonds continues his quest to break the all-time home run record. 10 behind Henry Aaron, Bonds looked a little hobbled to me and I bet it takes him through the all-star break to hit number 756.

That is, if anyone pitches to him. The Astros decided to intentionally walk Barry twice this evening with runners on and first base open. The strategy backfired as a lesser known Giant knocked in the runners on both occasions.

Frankly, I didn't really understand the logic behind the strategy. Coming into tonight's game, Bonds was 5 for 33, the Astros starter (Roy Oswalt) is a Cy Young candidate, and I paid $42 for a ticket to see Barry swing for the fences.

Major League Baseball doesn't give a shit that fans pay top dollar to see the greatest hitter of all time walk into the batter box, stand with the bat on his shoulder for about 20 seconds, and then walk to first base. The fans hate it!

Julie and I had a similar experience on Broadway when we bought tickets to Cabaret starring Molly Ringwald. Anxious to see how the teenage movie sweetheart transitioned to a middle age actress of the stage, we were disappointed (and shafted!) when moments before the curtain rose they announced, "tonight's role of Sally Bowles will be played by....." At least they had the decency to let us know we weren't going to see Molly act unless we rented The Breakfast Club on the way home.

As for Barry Bonds, see if you can get a ticket to the All-Star Home Run Derby at AT&T Park in San Francisco for July 9th. I doubt he'll see a pitch between now and then.

Thinking it Through

It always pays to take a moment to plan out a strategy before you start a project. Despite what you think you know, contingencies to address the unknown will come in handy sooner or later.

Searching My Soul

Click image to enlarge - GO AHEAD, DO IT!

Nineteen Eighty Four came and went without Orwellian predictions coming true, but maybe Georgie Boy was just off by a few years. Big Brother is a comin'!

This morning I stumbled across a new feature introduced by Google back in February called Web History. Basically, it is Google keeping track of what you search for and when you search for it. With a Gmail Account you can view your private search history that Big G so kindly keeps for you, and ... well, just you I guess.

Better than that, if you have Google Toolbar installed (provided free of charge from our brethren in Mountain View), you can also look up every web page you've ever visited. Yup, with one click of the mouse you can look back to April 1st and see all the foolish sites your friends tricked you into browsing. Suspicious about what the kids are viewing, but they always clear the cache? No problem, you and Google can look it up together through Web History. And you thought you had a friend in Jesus!

I'm not into such things myself, but you probably want to think twice about looking up that recipe for making a bomb. On the bright side, if you frequent porn sites and you need a checklist for confession, Web History would be very helpful.

"And Father, since my last reconciliation I have lied a few times, had some feelings of jealousy, spoke ill of others at least once, and visited http://www.playboy.com/ 432 times for an average of 7.12 minutes per visit."

Thank you, Google for watching over me.

Mixed Signals

Did you hear about the woman who was accosted while praying in church? Unbelievable story, and a sad reflection on how we've torn down all the boundaries of common decency in our society. Nothing is sacred...really.

Security cameras installed in the church caught the mugging on film so chances are they will catch the culprit. Should we thank God for this? You know, "thank God they had security cameras to help catch the dirty bastard!"

I see two problems with this thought. The first is why in the world would we want to be thankful for having to have surveillance cameras in a place where God, our ultimate safety net, is supposed to reside? I don't know about you, but I am not wearing my risk management hat when I walk through the arch doors of the local cathedral. Church is a safe haven, an earthly heaven that brings me comfort.

Second, saying the word "bastard" is better kept for the House that Ruth Built than a home constructed for God. Though shalt not say cuss words, especially in front of a 15 foot crucifix hanging over an altar.

But I do hope they catch the rotten scoundrel (whew, I said it without swearing) and bring him to justice. The fact they caught him on film will help and for this I am thankful to the security company that installed the cameras.

In the meantime, do you think the woman who got mugged is replaying in her mind what she was praying for? Whatever it was, the message must have gotten garbled somewhere along the holy transmission lines.

Damn the Torpedoes

PC Magazine put out a list of the 10 most common passwords. You can probably guess several of them making it a certainty that any 2nd rate hacker can as well. Check out the list here....and if your password is on the list, change it.

Numbers 1, 2 and 4 I understand - password, 123456, abc123 - all very memorable even for the dimmest wit. But number 6 is a stumper - monkey. It's so easy even a monkey could remember it? Nope, that would be a caveman.

Mullen Vows Comeback

Gayle Sayers, Bobby Orr, Ken Griffey Jr., Bill Walton, the list of superstars cut down in a season by injury goes on and on. Add Julie Mullen to the list...temporarily.

The grand master potter damaged her right hand tonight in a freak kitchen accident. But even under the influence of Percocet, she is already planning a left handed comeback. The Sunflower Kid suffered 2nd degree burns on her thumb, index and middle fingers when boiling vegetable oil spilled over a smoking wok onto her right hand. Often referred to as "Asbestos Hands", even Juls couldn't take the pain of bubbling oil.

Poor gal, she doesn't deserve a bit of the pain. On our way back from the hospital emergency room, she commented to me that she was going to offer up the hurt to God as penance.

I really don't deserve to be in the presence of a soul so beautiful.

1st Team All-Conference

Happy Mother's Day to all the moms in the crowd. We hosted an all-star gathering at the house today for a celebratory brunch. A lot of talent assembled in one place! A good amount of love as well.

11th Commandment

"I give you a new commandment: love one another. As I have loved you, so you also should love one another. This is how all will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another." - John 13:34-35.

How come none of the other teachers in my life could ever break down the lesson plan in such simple terms? I mean, 1402 pages in the Holy Bible, 904 pages in the Catechism of the Catholic Church, and Jesus can pare it down to a 3 sentence paragraph - that's insight!

I often take comfort in the words. Whenever things get too complicated and relationships strained, I slip back to the simplicity of love. I try to release my ego in favor of others around me to become more selfless. A thought of what would Jesus do before there ever was a WWJD bracelet.

Thoughts to be more humble, more forgiving, more understanding, and more giving. Thoughts to be more thankful, more joyous, and more loving. So simple, so fulfilling and yet my imperfect soul takes me far away from God's love and that which He impels me to share with others.

Say a little prayer for me, and I will do the same for you. With both of us chatting it up, I bet we'll meet somewhere in the middle with open arms and a warm embrace. Allelujah.

Note: Statue of Saint Elizabeth Ann Seton, 1st native born North American saint. Founder of the Sisters of Charity, and mother of five, she was a real lover.

Lonely Heart

I am always perplexed at how utterly alone I feel when visiting New York City. You'd think being in the surging sea of humanity might make one feel overwhelmed, intimidated or even claustrophobic, but lonely?

I was in Times Square on Thursday evening shuffling along with thousands of others, and had the odd sensation I was floating through the streets of a parallel world. I heard voices - lovers in conversation, parents giving directions, teenagers laughing - and I saw gestures and motions. But no one noticed me.

I wanted to join in on a conversation. I wanted to laugh while taking a silly picture. I wanted to hold hands with someone while we scurried across Broadway ahead of the brigade of yellow taxis.

Today, while walking back towards Grand Central through Bryant Park, I stopped to take a photograph of a woman. She was sitting by herself in the center of the park...no, the center of the universe. Everything revolved around her going in full motion while she sat inside herself in quiet observation.

After the click of the camera, I paused to glance her way. She returned the look and amidst the legion of strangers we each found a momentary friend. Neither of us alone after all.

The Dog Ate My Homework

Well, I have to admit it, I am out of blog ideas. No funny thoughts, no sad thoughts, no spiritual thoughts. Nope, I am brain dead. Sorry.

I had a couple of concepts kicking around in my head - the genius of Hitler's brand, David Hasselhoff's drunken stupor (Inside Edition beat me to it), Roger Clemens makes another curtain call - but nothing came together.

I need to stop moving for a few days, and something will bubble up. Until then, be good.

SIDE NOTE: The Hitler thing have you stymied? I definitely am not a fan of the guy, but have you ever looked at yourself in the mirror while shaving when the only lather left is on your upper lip? Who is the first guy you think of? Hitler! I consciously shave my upper lip first to avoid seeing his image, but knowing the reason I do so still reminds me of him. Now that is effective marketing.

How Random is a Name?

Joseph - Hebrew origins meaning, "The Lord will increase/add". A couple of the more prominent members of the Joseph Hall of Fame include:

1. Joseph - Old Testament - 11th son of Jacob making him a grandson of Isaac and great grandson of Abraham. Picked on by his brothers, he had a special talent of being able to interpret dreams including those of the Pharaoh of Egypt. Turned out by his brothers, he eventually rose to the lofty position of viceroy to the King of Egypt. Had a Broadway musical named after him and his coat of many colors.


2. Joseph - New Testament - husband of Mary and the legal father of Jesus Christ. A carpenter by trade, he is the model workman in the eyes of the Catholic church.

Spring Eternal

In a culture fascinated with death, God has a way to remind us it is all about life.

Turnover

I grew up in Burlington Vermont's South End - about as good a neighborhood as you could expect to find. I left home for the first time in 1976 to do a 4 year stint in the U.S. Air Force. I left for the 2nd time in 1984, and never went back. Sometimes I regret the move.

I still have friends and family in Burlington, so I do get to visit now and again. I also keep pace with the local scene by reading the Burlington Free Press online edition. The Curious George in me likes to click on the death notices to look for people I know (knew?). A little voice always whispers in my ear, "why do you look for the living among the dead?"

Until recently I didn't recognize too many of the departing souls, but the onslaught has begun. In the last 3 months the whole neighborhood has flashed before my eyes. The obituaries, while tinged with a bit of sadness, have brought back some wonderful memories of familiar families. They also have given me insight into things I never knew.

Donald Lapointe - 86 - father of Rice HS friend, Bambi, and also sang at our wedding reception, World War II Navy vet and 4th degree member of the Knights of Columbus. Requiescat in pace.

Art Merola - 77 - one-time coach of any amateur sport ever played at South Park, and architect of the infamous "bananas" audible called out by John Pijanowski in a critical junior high school football game between my Steelers and their Giants; Larry Goldberg thought he meant "oranges" and turned the ball over, had an audience with Pope Pius XII, was recruited by the New York Giants football team and was lifelong photographer. Requiescat in pace.

Gertrude Quinn - 87 - mother of South End friends Sean & Q'Ball, graduated as valedictorian of Mount Saint Mary's Academy in 1937. Requiescat in pace.

Lorraine Yandow - 83 - mother of Christ the King schoolmate, Tom, lifelong resident schooled at Cathedral HS, Trinity College & Bishop DeGosbriand Nursing School. Requiescat in pace.

Claire Simmoneau - 75 - mother of Mike & Pat, Rice HS football teammates of my brother Joe, made the best potato salad in town and served it up at the family run quick stop, Simmy's on Shelburne Road. Requiescat in pace.

Don Maley - 89 - father of my boyhood friend, Marty and high school coach of my father-in-law, Bill ("toughest football player I ever coached"), high school valedictorian and member of the UVM Athletic Hall of Fame as a 3 sport star. Requiescat in pace.

Joe McKenzie - 69 - brother of a men's league basketball (Longe Brothers) teammate, Dennis, long time Cathedral and Rice High School Stunt Night coach. Requiescat in pace.

Pauline Bergeron - 87 - mother of Christ the King CYO basketball hero, Buzzy, married 61 years and the Irish side of the family (who knew?). Requiescat in pace.

Don ("Dick") Shea - 80 - father of Christ the King CYO senior league basketball teammate, Danny, owner of the Shamrock Barbershop on lower Church St across from City Hall. Requiescat in pace.

Marie Laberge - 88 - mother of Christ the King classmate, Aime, a Vermont farm boy who sat behind me in 4th grade, raised 12 of her own children on a Charlotte dairy farm (3 girls and 9 boys) who beget 39 grandchildren who beget another 46 great grandchildren; a real biblical story. Requiescat in pace.