Dec.8,1980

I remember being woke up by the radio on that cold December day. The announcer said today's top story is Beatle John Lennon is dead. He was shot and died early this morning at a New York hospital. December 8, 1980. I was shocked, even my wife who usually slept later was awakened by the news. We couldn't believe it.

I always liked John Lennon, he wasn't my favorite Beatle but without a doubt he was the most influential of the group. All of his songs seemed to have a specific meaning and they seemed to touch all the social issues of the day. I always thought he was a little goofy, and sometimes completely eccentric, but he had a way with music that made you listen and think.

I believe his best song was "Imagine". It is soothing and peaceful and it has meaning. Some say it is a song about communism or socialism. I think it is a song about " Utopia".  St. Thomas More created the word when he wrote about a perfect world of social, politics and law.  The most important meaning, of the song was peace.If there is one thing John Lennon strived for it was peace throughout the world.  It wasn't just peace from war, but peace in every day things we do. Peace at work, or where you live,
peace among your friends and enemies.
 

John Lennon would be almost seventy today, it is ashame that for the last thirty years we were deprived of his talent for making meaningful music. I listen to the Beatles quite often, and I enjoy their music as much today as I did when I was young. When I hear a Lennon song, I can't help but wonder what might have been.  It seems so many influential people leave this earth at a young age.  I wonder if they ever know how much their contributions have meant to us still living and listening. 

Thanksgiving

The first thing you would here is Dad telling Mom how she should cook the turkey, then you would hear her say shut up , I know what I'm doing. Both parents had loud voices, so we never got to sleep late in the Vagnozzi houshold.
Thanksgiving was a family day, a time to give thanks for the little we had. Monetary wise we were no where near rich, not even upper middle class. We were rich in family and that is something money can't buy.
The day would start with the smell of coffee. Breakfast would always be the cakes and cookies my sister would bring home from the bakery where she worked. I loved the cream donuts, my younger brother the jelly. After we had breakfast, my older brother would take us to the St. Tommie More vs. Overbrook football game. It was usually the ony game STM would win all year.
I sat in the stands watching the game, dreaming of the day I could play for St. Tommie. My younger brother would be off playing under the stands and running around. When the game was over we would head home, knowing that Mom was working in the kitchen preparing the holiday feast. You could smell
the different flavors from a block away. Our mouths would start watering.
My Father liked to eat dinner early, usually around 2:p.m. We didn't mind because when you eat early, you get to eat again later. We always had some homemade soup to start, usually Scrippels. They were sort of a long stuffed shell
cooked in a chicken broth, sprinkled with cheese. Delicious! Next came the pasta, either ravioli or manicotti or lasagna. Delicious! Then we had a large bowl of salad. Then the turkey would come out with all the fixings. Cranberry sauce, stuffing, couple of different vegetables, a small dish of spaghetti for Dad, he didn't eat veggies.
After all that we had dessert, coffee with annisette, or sambuca, homemade
peach or pear cake, pumpkin pie, or coconut custard, and of course Mom's homemade cookies. We ate like we were going to the electric chair.
Those Thanksgiving dinners were truly some wonderful times for me and I have so many memories of them. We argued and laughed with each other, five brothers and sisters and their parents. Every once in a while, I miss that closeness we all shared. It was Thanksgiving at the Vagnozzi's, and you could hear it from a block away.

A friend for life

When I first met her, it was a quick hello, not too many words spoken. I was with her cousin we were going to play pool and listen to music. I knew she was dating and at the time I didn't think any thing would come about. After a while it seemed we started to hang around together. My brother and her cousin were into playing music. They had a small band and she would come over to listen. She use to bring some of her friends and we would for the most part have a good time.
I don't know exactly how it happened but somehow while talking to her, I could see a twinkle in her eyes. Maybe it is something women do, but all I know, I would never look at her differently again. She became more than just a friend, we started dating. I found that the more I was with her the more comfortable I felt. I could confide in her. I could look into her eyes and actually see her feelings for me. Suddenly, I wanted to spend all my time with her. She became most important in my life. Whatever I would do , would be done for both of us. We decided to marry and become one. We started a family and have been together through good times and bad. We are about to celebrate 39 years of marriage, but we have been friends for over 40 years. I have known her and lived with her longer than my siblings.
She will always come first in my life, even before my children. I have tried to please her every day. I love to hear her laugh, I love to see her smile. I hope I never have to live without her. They say a true friend is hard to find and most of us only have one. The best compliment I can give my wife is she is my one and only true friend. Sometimes when I don't feel right, or worried, I look at her face and still see that twinkle, and all becomes well.

A Good Impression

With Labor Day upon us we unofficially call it the end of summer. Now starts the opening of the new school year. We all have memories of our first day
and the first day of our children. Some memories are very good and some very very bad. The one memory that sticks in my mind is the one teacher who made a good impression on me and consequently helped in my growing up and becoming part of who I am.
I am not going to get involved in salary disputes, or the amount of time teachers work or don't work, or the benefits they receive. These are things that can and should be worked out between them and the local school board.
Most of us did however have a teacher that really helped us and taught us by
setting a good example for us to follow. Maybe it was the way they commanded respect in the classroom, or how they dressed for their job. The time they took to answer questions and go over assignments.
Like all of us, some teachers go above and beyond their job requirements, and like all of us some just do what they have to, to get by. Most of us remember the "bad teachers" but all of us remember the "good teachers"
My favorite teacher was Mr.Valenti. He wasn't very tall but when he came into the classroom, he was always impeccably dressed. I thought he looked sharp.
He always had the "in style" tie or sport jacket. He also had a prescence when he stood in front of the classroom. Mr. Valenti, never seemed to have to raise his voice to be heard. He had a knack for making English and writing very interesting. He always taught the importance of using words and writing those words in sentences that were clear and meaningful. "You have to be able to get your point across, so everyone could understand".
I thought of being a teacher at times, but never put the effort that I should have. I have always thought however, that the speaking and writing, of English are the most important fundamentals that a person can have .
It is why I like writing this blog. Writing down my thoughts and opinions is something I really enjoy . So, I thank Mr. Valenti for making an impression.
I hope when you read this, you think of that teacher who made an impression on you, who you think of till this day. Aside from all the politics, teachers are a very important part of our society. They are responsible for the learning of our youth, some even more so than parents.

"Ugly Americans"

Tomorrow marks the 65th anniversary of the dropping of the atomic bomb on Japan. We hear many sad and sorrowful stories about that fateful day. Many people lost their lives and the ones who survived were scarred for life. We see pictures and listen to news accounts of that day. Most lead us to believe that we should be ashamed of what our country did to Japan and its people. How could our country do such a dastardly thing. They say it wasn't necessary . What they don't tell us is that Japan was resigned to defend their homeland to the death.
All the accounts of the battles of the Pacific Islands, told of the fierce fighting of the Japanese soldiers, against our troops. Many, many men lost their lives.
Those of us who were born after 1945, owe our own lives to President Truman and his decision to drop the "bomb". Most people don't know that the troops who served in the European theatre of war were getting ready to be shipped to the "Pacific" to take part in the invasion of Japan. The experts estimate that casualties on the American side alone would have been in the thousands. Chances are if you are a baby boomer, your Father could have
been one of those casualties. I believe President Truman did the right thing in order to end that terrible conflict. It was a terrible terrible tragedy but I don't believe we as a Nation should have to apoligize for our actions.
I wish the news media would give accounts from both sides when they cover
this and other stories that involve our past. I am tired of always being the "Ugly
American".

Summer in the City

It has been one hot summer so far. Many record breaking temperature days. All this hot weather reminds me of growing up in the old neighborhood. You would get up early and go outside looking for a game of baseball or get your bike and go for a ride, someplace far, maybe to Belmont Plateau. Sometimes you would just sit on the corner and play pinochle, while eating water ice and pretzels. If you were lucky , Father Carbo would take you and a few others to St. Charles Seminary to swim in their olympic pool. Other times we would walk to
Shanahan swim club, and go swimming there. You had to be careful while in the water that "Brutus" didn't grab you and pull you under.
I think the most fun times was when they would turn on the fire hydrant.
Someone would get a wrench and two or three others would go half way up the block as lookouts, to make sure no police were around, and then turn on the fire plug. The water would come gushing out, cold and invigorating, and everyone would be there to enjoy it. The old ladies would come out with their brooms and sweep the sidewalk and scrub the stoops. Those who had a car would get a bucket and start washing it. We had our own water park in the city. Girls would stroll by and dare the guys not to get them wet, they didn't want their hair messed up. It never worked, someone would always get "dunked". After complaining, they walked away feeling popular, they were noticed.
It's funny, no matter how old you get, you can still remember the good times
like they were yesterday. The fire plug always seemed to be a highlight of the hot summer days of my youth. I don't ever remember anything bad when the plug was turned on, just the sounds of kids playing and water gushing.
Eventually, the police would come and turn off the fire plug, leaving everybody sad but satisfyingly cool.
A couple hours later, the lookouts would be back out .

Father's Day Gifts

Every year at this time we celebrate Father's Day. My Dad is no longer here but I think of him very often. I can still see his face when I do something that's not right ,or when I need advice, I hear his voice. When my brothers and sisters were young we used to get Dad gifts, most were things he would never find a use for, but he was always appreciative of them. He would always tell us that the best gift we could give him was to be good kids and don't get in trouble, get good grades and make something of ourselves.
I am the father of a son and a daughter. I used to get all those same kind of gifts that I had a hard time finding uses for. I found myself repeating my Father's words to my children, be good, get good grades, make something of yourself. The best gift a Father can receive, is for his children to follow his advice.
On this Father's day, my daughter and son, will go crazy trying to find something I can use. What they don't know is that they have given me what every father wants. They are very successful, they are college graduates, they make decent money, they have good jobs, and most of all they have become productive citizens of our society. They have followed their father's advice. They have no idea how proud I am of them, how they have matured into a fine young man and a fine young woman. Every where I go I receive compliments from
people who have met them. They tell me what great kids they are, polite and sociable and mannerly. They tell me how lucky I am. The thing is I know it.
So this Father's Day, I will accept their gifts and try to find a use for them, and I will look at them and politely say thanks. When I go to sleep at night, I will smile to myself and thank God for the best father's day gift one could get,
a son and a daughter who are the pride and joy of my life.