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If you watch TV or listen to news radio you will find that we are inundated with all kinds of news about the troubling times we live in. As I have aged I have found that I have lived in troubling times all my life. If you look up any year and check old newspapers or video from TV broadcasts you will find bad news everywhere. Times today, really are no different for us than for those who lived in past years. What makes our time seem so troubling is the fact that we have become a global society. With the advent of the internet and the use of the cell phone, we are able to instantly get information from all over the world. We now have twenty four hour news and information channels. Even our local stations start broadcasting at 4:a.m. There was a time when newscast only lasted 1/2 hour per night, and that included national and local. The reason these channels are on so much is because of ratings, and higher ratings mean more advertising money. Because we are the kind of people who like to slow down and look at a car wreck, the news channels fill our screens with as much bad news as they can find. Even a light dusting of snow falling instantly becomes a major blizzard.
With the Christmas season upon us, I think it is time to turn off the TV and radio news channels. We should pull back and look at our own small world. What can we do to make life for the people close to us
happier. Think of all the things we can share with those we love. Look at all we already have. Instead of watching and worrying about all the bad things going on in the outside world, let us look inside our own small world and see what we can do to make it a better place. It is written somewhere that you can't love until you love yourself first. Charity begins at home . If we all take the time to make peace and love within our own families and close friends we can use that as a foundation to make a beter place in the outside world. Then maybe there will be a 24 hour good news channel.
Friday, December 16, 2011
Saturday, November 19, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
" The Old Neighborhood"
Recently I attended a reunion of the neighborhood where I grew up. There were quite a few people there and we all had one thing in common, the little area called 49th St. I often wonder why the neighborhood was called 49th St., most of the people lived on 50th or 51st or Kershaw or Thompson Streets and many other streets. Hardly anyone lived on 49th St. Yet when asked where you came from, the answer was 49th St. The neighborhood consisted mostly of people of Italian and Irish descent. It had two schools and two churches, one for Irish and one for Italians, I often laugh when I think about it because we were all catholic and the schools we attended practiced segregation. You had to be at least half of one nationality to attend school.
The neighborhood had a whole cast of characters, with fantastic nicknames, there was Slasher, Breezy, Bizza, Ballots, Tony Feathers, Tree Tops, Flutes, Flubby and many more. It was a working class neighborhood, where most of the men were in the
building trades. We did have our neighborhood grocery stores and shoemaker and drug store, so you really didn't have to go to far to get most things that you needed.
Many in the neighborhood were from big families, there were quite a few second, third and fourth cousins. Some were related and even spelled their last name differently.
While at the reunion, we talked about old times and all the different things that went on. Even though we were all of different ages, you knew how the stories would end because someone in your family was there at the time or knew what transpired. There was a sense of one big family growing up in the 49th St. area. No matter where or when you were involved in things, your parents would find out after you were corrected by one of the neighbors. There was no escaping, everyone knew your family.
I have many fond memories of the neighborhood, the Carnival every spring, going in the fire plug in summer, Friday night block party dances, pretzels and water ice, or playing cards while "hangin" on the corner. My most fond memory is coming home from church on Sunday morning and smelling the homemade "gravy" and meatballs or sausage being cooked in the homes.
Eventually as we got older we moved from the neighborhood, but it always has stayed with me. I cherish the memories I have from that time and I have not forgotten them. When someone asked where I am from I tell them "from 49th St. a small close knit neighborhood in West Phila.
The neighborhood had a whole cast of characters, with fantastic nicknames, there was Slasher, Breezy, Bizza, Ballots, Tony Feathers, Tree Tops, Flutes, Flubby and many more. It was a working class neighborhood, where most of the men were in the
building trades. We did have our neighborhood grocery stores and shoemaker and drug store, so you really didn't have to go to far to get most things that you needed.
Many in the neighborhood were from big families, there were quite a few second, third and fourth cousins. Some were related and even spelled their last name differently.
While at the reunion, we talked about old times and all the different things that went on. Even though we were all of different ages, you knew how the stories would end because someone in your family was there at the time or knew what transpired. There was a sense of one big family growing up in the 49th St. area. No matter where or when you were involved in things, your parents would find out after you were corrected by one of the neighbors. There was no escaping, everyone knew your family.
I have many fond memories of the neighborhood, the Carnival every spring, going in the fire plug in summer, Friday night block party dances, pretzels and water ice, or playing cards while "hangin" on the corner. My most fond memory is coming home from church on Sunday morning and smelling the homemade "gravy" and meatballs or sausage being cooked in the homes.
Eventually as we got older we moved from the neighborhood, but it always has stayed with me. I cherish the memories I have from that time and I have not forgotten them. When someone asked where I am from I tell them "from 49th St. a small close knit neighborhood in West Phila.
Monday, September 5, 2011
Shopping Thoughts.
Today, my wife and I took a ride to the Philadelphia Outlets in Limerick Pa. There
are quite few stores with many famous name brands. Everything there is on sale for at least 50% off, some things even more. We saved quite a bit of money. This got me thinking though, these same stores have to pay employees, rent, electric and the usual business expenses. How can they sell the clothes and shoes and other things so inexpensive. They must be making a profit or they coud not stay in business. Why does it cost so much to buy the same articles at a regular store. The products are all made in the same countries overseas, nothing is made here.
The only explanation I can think of is greed. The companies all complain they can't make a profit by using American workers, by making things in foreign countries they can hire cheap labor. Why don't they pass the savings on to the consumer at their regular stores. Instead of making 150% profit on goods can't they survive on 125% or even 100%. We keep complaining about deficits, doesn't it make sense to put Americans to work who are going to pay taxes and spend the money here. I understand that business costs are getting higher and higher, and everyone wants the workers to take a pay cut, but these large corporations are getting richer and richer and not giving back. There has to be a happy medium where we all can share in the prosperity of this country. I am not suggesting that these corporations give up their profits, but I would like to see them employ more people from this country so those same people can enjoy all this country has to offer.
are quite few stores with many famous name brands. Everything there is on sale for at least 50% off, some things even more. We saved quite a bit of money. This got me thinking though, these same stores have to pay employees, rent, electric and the usual business expenses. How can they sell the clothes and shoes and other things so inexpensive. They must be making a profit or they coud not stay in business. Why does it cost so much to buy the same articles at a regular store. The products are all made in the same countries overseas, nothing is made here.
The only explanation I can think of is greed. The companies all complain they can't make a profit by using American workers, by making things in foreign countries they can hire cheap labor. Why don't they pass the savings on to the consumer at their regular stores. Instead of making 150% profit on goods can't they survive on 125% or even 100%. We keep complaining about deficits, doesn't it make sense to put Americans to work who are going to pay taxes and spend the money here. I understand that business costs are getting higher and higher, and everyone wants the workers to take a pay cut, but these large corporations are getting richer and richer and not giving back. There has to be a happy medium where we all can share in the prosperity of this country. I am not suggesting that these corporations give up their profits, but I would like to see them employ more people from this country so those same people can enjoy all this country has to offer.
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Friends
I read some where that if you have one friend you can count on, you are truly lucky.
Most of us have many people we know and we call them friend, but are they really. People have a tendency to offer to volunteer to help when you have a problem or if you are going through a rough time, it is human nature, to do this.
I have been very fortunate in my lifetime to have made friends with two people who as some would like to say, " I would pick them to go into battle with".
The first person is someone I met in the first grade, and to this day, 54 years later we are still friends. We have been to each others home and shared in the joys of our childrens highs and lows. We talk on the phone and constantly get together to play golf
or go out to dinner. He is the same person today as he was in the first grade. He is very
sociable and dependable and always seems to have a smile on his face. He can be counted on whenever and wherever he is needed.
The other person is someone I met in the Marine Corps. We met in California, in 1970 and we have been friends ever since. He also has shared good times and bad times with me. We toasted the birth of my daughter together and unfortunately we cried together at the death of his son. He lives in Florida, but we never miss a beat when we talk to each other on the phone.
It is said that friends don't have to see each other every day or talk every day. Most of the time that is the case with these two men. I was told by one that he considered me a brother he never had. He really meant it, and when I think about it, I do consider him my brother.
These two men will always have a place in my life, and I will always be there for them as I know they will be there for me.
I am very lucky to have a great wife and a great family, but I am also lucky and thankful for having two people I can call FRIEND.
Most of us have many people we know and we call them friend, but are they really. People have a tendency to offer to volunteer to help when you have a problem or if you are going through a rough time, it is human nature, to do this.
I have been very fortunate in my lifetime to have made friends with two people who as some would like to say, " I would pick them to go into battle with".
The first person is someone I met in the first grade, and to this day, 54 years later we are still friends. We have been to each others home and shared in the joys of our childrens highs and lows. We talk on the phone and constantly get together to play golf
or go out to dinner. He is the same person today as he was in the first grade. He is very
sociable and dependable and always seems to have a smile on his face. He can be counted on whenever and wherever he is needed.
The other person is someone I met in the Marine Corps. We met in California, in 1970 and we have been friends ever since. He also has shared good times and bad times with me. We toasted the birth of my daughter together and unfortunately we cried together at the death of his son. He lives in Florida, but we never miss a beat when we talk to each other on the phone.
It is said that friends don't have to see each other every day or talk every day. Most of the time that is the case with these two men. I was told by one that he considered me a brother he never had. He really meant it, and when I think about it, I do consider him my brother.
These two men will always have a place in my life, and I will always be there for them as I know they will be there for me.
I am very lucky to have a great wife and a great family, but I am also lucky and thankful for having two people I can call FRIEND.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
The "Enemy"
In the fall of 1964 I attended St. Thomas More high school. It was the beginning of my freshman year. High school can be pretty intimidating to someone who was small in size and not use to the world outside of his own small neighborhood. It was the first time I would meet a lot of non-italian people. Where I grew up 99% of the area was Italian, and it was also very very white. I never had any social contact with anyone black. The only blacks I knew, were the laborers on construction jobs that I worked on with my dad. For most of my young life blacks were the "enemy". Everywhere my friends and I would go there was always a chance of confrontation with blacks from the surrounding areas.
During the fall of 64, I had decided to go out for the track team. It was a chance to get involved in a school activity and also I was told that it could help you get a good grade from the science teacher. He happened to be the track coach. I was cursed with the dreaded white man's disease, I couldn't jump very high or run very fast. It was decided that I should try out for distance running. It was during this time that I met John Allen. John was a senior and he was black. For some reason he did his best to help me
and teach me all I needed to learn about running in a track meet. He befriended me and
for the first time I looked at a black person as a person and not one of the "enemy".
John was a very good athlete, and excelled not only in track but basketball also. I remember him always taking the time just to say hi, whenever he saw me in the hallways or the cafeteria. Seniors were usually to busy to talk to freshman. John was just different from anyone I had known. He , for lack of better words, made an impression on me.
This weekend is Memorial Day. It is a day we honor those who gave their all for their country, during the many wars it has fought. I think of John Allen especially on Memorial Day. He lost his life in Viet Nam. Like all the others, it is a tragedy that he had to die at such a young age. His life was short but I guess its purpose was served when he befriended a small freshman in 1964. He helped change the way one person looked at another. He helped that one person to open his eyes and look at a person, not an "enemy".
During the fall of 64, I had decided to go out for the track team. It was a chance to get involved in a school activity and also I was told that it could help you get a good grade from the science teacher. He happened to be the track coach. I was cursed with the dreaded white man's disease, I couldn't jump very high or run very fast. It was decided that I should try out for distance running. It was during this time that I met John Allen. John was a senior and he was black. For some reason he did his best to help me
and teach me all I needed to learn about running in a track meet. He befriended me and
for the first time I looked at a black person as a person and not one of the "enemy".
John was a very good athlete, and excelled not only in track but basketball also. I remember him always taking the time just to say hi, whenever he saw me in the hallways or the cafeteria. Seniors were usually to busy to talk to freshman. John was just different from anyone I had known. He , for lack of better words, made an impression on me.
This weekend is Memorial Day. It is a day we honor those who gave their all for their country, during the many wars it has fought. I think of John Allen especially on Memorial Day. He lost his life in Viet Nam. Like all the others, it is a tragedy that he had to die at such a young age. His life was short but I guess its purpose was served when he befriended a small freshman in 1964. He helped change the way one person looked at another. He helped that one person to open his eyes and look at a person, not an "enemy".
Friday, May 6, 2011
Drive-In Movies
It was the summer of 1965 my sister Mary Rose was pregnant with her soon to be born son. One night while sitting around my brother-in-law Tom, said lets go to the drive in movie. My sister asked me if I wanted to go and without hesitation I said yes. What are we going to see? I asked. Frank Sinatra in Von Ryan's Express, Tom said. I was excited. I had never been to a drive in before and to see Sinatra in a movie, well you could imagine how I felt.
The drive in movie theatres are gone today, but oh what memories they bring. How many times did we fill the car with as many people as possible, some hiding in the trunk, so we didn't have to pay more than a certain amount. They were the place to go with your date every weekend, so you could "make-out". All kinds of people would be there, you always found someone you knew. Funny things always happened there too;
I remember one of my wife's girlfriends forgetting to remove the speaker from the car window as her boyfriend drove away; good thing windows were less expensive in those days. Parents use to bring their kids in their pajamas, and just let them sleep in the car as they watched the movie. I remember doing that with my daughter, but when my son was old enough the drive in disappeared.
That night my sister and brother-in-law took me was something I have never forgotten. It was a tradition my wife and I carried on before and after we got married. We went almost every Friday night when the weather was nice. We would go get hoagies and chips and drinks and picnic in our car . We even went when it rained. We didn't watch the movie as much though.
Drive in movie theatres are gone now but their memories are with us forever, and when my grandkids get a little older I will pass on the stories about all the good times their mom-mom and poppy had there.
The drive in movie theatres are gone today, but oh what memories they bring. How many times did we fill the car with as many people as possible, some hiding in the trunk, so we didn't have to pay more than a certain amount. They were the place to go with your date every weekend, so you could "make-out". All kinds of people would be there, you always found someone you knew. Funny things always happened there too;
I remember one of my wife's girlfriends forgetting to remove the speaker from the car window as her boyfriend drove away; good thing windows were less expensive in those days. Parents use to bring their kids in their pajamas, and just let them sleep in the car as they watched the movie. I remember doing that with my daughter, but when my son was old enough the drive in disappeared.
That night my sister and brother-in-law took me was something I have never forgotten. It was a tradition my wife and I carried on before and after we got married. We went almost every Friday night when the weather was nice. We would go get hoagies and chips and drinks and picnic in our car . We even went when it rained. We didn't watch the movie as much though.
Drive in movie theatres are gone now but their memories are with us forever, and when my grandkids get a little older I will pass on the stories about all the good times their mom-mom and poppy had there.
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