"'Tis ever common that men are merriest when they are from home." (Henry V)

.....Recently my son, Joel turned 60 so he and my daughter-in-law, Barbara, were given an expense paid gift of a safari in Africa.  He kept very good records of their experience both in a journal and hundreds of photos.  So that his record of the trip ought not to be lost to posterity, I decided it might not be a bad idea to use it in this blog so that all my readers can follow his adventures through this posting.

Tanzania (Jul/Aug 2012)

Flights

This was the toughest part of the trip. We had a total of four international flights, and each way (U.S.-Africa, Africa-U.S.) took about 17 hours of flying time. On the way there, we had a 3-hour stopover in Amsterdam, so we had something to eat and just hung out until re-boarding. On the way back, the stopover was more than 6 hours. However, I have a good friend who lives in Amsterdam, so he picked us up at the terminal, drove 

around the Holland countryside (rivers, canals, bridges, ferries, cows), and then we went to apartment in Amsterdam to have some lunch with him and his wife. Afterwards, he drove us back to the terminal, and we continued home. All flights were with KLM, and they were nice – good meals, and individual screens for watching movies/TV. I watched every movie I could that I wouldn’t normally watch in a theater or with a DVD. I can’t even remember which movies they were, but I do have a vague recollection of being reminded why I never really cared for the Three Stooges.

.....Within Tanzania, we had three short flights with small aircraft: Serengeti to Arusha; Arusha to Zanzibar; Zanzibar to Dar Es Salaam. They didn’t crash, so there’s not much else to add. 

Hotels
.....We had a wide range of places to sleep, some of which you saw in the photos we sent. In many cases, there was a central building (with restaurant, bar, entertainment, gift shop, wifi, etc.) and then individual housing stretching away from it. We always seemed to have a room that was almost the furthest away from the central building. In two of the cases, they were actually “tents,” which means the walls were made of canvas, and the “door” was really a large zipper. However, the tent was on a raised wooden platform, and had a private bathroom/shower, and usually electricity. Hot water was also usually available, but sometimes it wasn’t there if the person in charge of the fire didn’t heat our water ahead of time. The final nights in Zanzibar 
and Dar Es Salaam were at two of the best hotels available, which really spoiled us, and was intended to make us forget the previous accommodations. Especially nice was the buffet with all the lobster tails, shrimp, and crab claws you could eat (after bringing them to the grill to be heated on the spot while you wait).

Food

......Did I mention the seafood buffet? Most of the other times, we either had a more traditional buffet (beef, chicken, pasta, etc.) or a sitdown meal with a set menu. When we were out on the plains on safari, they even set up “picnics” with a heated buffet. Each morning, there usually was a breakfast buffet as well. There was not too much in the way of “local” foods, whatever that might have been.

Tour Group

.....Unlike most of our previous trips, where we might be the only Americans, this group of about 20 was entirely American. It included two family groups (parents and two daughters in their 20’s; and a mother, daughter, aunt) and one single. The rest were couples from around the country. One couple was actually from Chevy Chase, walking distance from Hannah’s place. There also was an incredible woman there: A Jewish woman, originally from Austria, now living in New York, and in May she will be 100 years old! She came with a caretaker, but she did just about everything else that the rest of us did. We couldn’t believe it. It does tend to stifle any complaints we have about how rough or tough things were, since a 99-year-old lady was able to do it. Geez.

.....There is a lot more to come, especially about the natives and the animals--which may be of greater interest than what you have read today.  But I do not want to make this much longer than most of my posts on this blog.  

"You taught me language, and the profit on it is I learned to curse." (The Tempest)

.....On Saturday, August 25 there were two comments to the posting regarding the use of the word, "disinterested" and for those readers who do any writing such as letters or emails or creative writing for that matter, may find some interest in those comments which engage in language usage. So this post today will be vastly different from any I've written before. It's about English--the English language which none other in the world can match for it's use in writing--and speaking. Suppose a friend said to you, "I know you're disinterested, so I want to ask you a question presently." Then he didn't say anything. Would you be momentarily nonplussed?

.....Quite likely, yes. According to Ben Yagoda, in a Slate magazine article, the above paragraph contains four words whose primary definitions have changed or are currently changing. Disinterested traditionally meant "impartial," and now is generally used to mean "uninterested." Presently has gone from "shortly" to "currently"; momentarily from "for a moment" to "in a moment"; and nonplussed from perplexed to unimpressed.  Now, I cannot vouch for the meanings attached to these words in Great Britain, but our British walking thesaurus, Ruthie Griffin, would have the answers.  

.....The point of all this is that language over time and distance changes.  For example, the English of "Beowulf" would not be understandable to most 21st Century readers.  But in spite of all the crying of students about the difficulty of reading the English in Chaucer's "Canterbury Tales" or in Shakespeare, patience is a virtue.  For example the prologue to the "Tales" begins "Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, the droght of March has perced to the roote..."; with a little patience one can translate this to "When April with its sweet showers has pierced the drought of March to the limit..." With a little patience and determination to enrich your life, one can read the whole prologue and tales whose English is a symphony. The same can be said of Shakespeare, the Einstein of poetry and drama. E=mc2 is at the same time poetry and mystery. While Einstein's work is mainly best understood as science, Shakespeare is the genius of the English language, and with a little patience one can surely understand the language in his plays and enjoy it.  If not, see me.

  

"Come to me, all ye that are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." (Matthew. XI. 28)

.....One of the comments on yesterday's posting about suicide brought up the of the question about the motivation of those souls with suicidal thoughts, and whether or not they consider the effect their death will have on family and friends who love them.  Of course grieving will follow any death of a loved one, but in my own experience with suicidal thoughts, those of my own, and those of others I've known, there is no consideration of the effect on others; just the closure of one's pain--severe as it is--mentally or physically.

.....I must have read "Hamlet"  about 100 times, silently and aloud both to myself and to my English classes over the years, and I always wondered about his motivation for committing suicide.  There is no question that he is seriously committed to it--two soliloquies document that.  But I always thought it was a weak excuse.  Obviously, he was in mourning over his father's death, and the over-hasty, incestuous marriage of his mother to his father's brother, Claudius.  (Yes, marriage back then to a husband's brother was considered to be incest).  However much Hamlet thought of the incest, he did not appear to be concerned so much to it as he is to the other aforementioned motives for his suicidal thoughts. He says "...how weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable seem to me all the uses of this world."  By "unprofitable" I don't believe he meant  his losses in the stock market as much as he means his happiness.  And in another moment he says, "...whether in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles..."  Nowhere does Shakespeare mention the nature of Hamlets's "outrageous fortune", and nowhere does he list this "sea of troubles".  To me, at least, it seems more like a lake of troubles.  But  Hamlet never appears concerned about the effect his death would have on Ophelia, his love, or his mother, or on Denmark for that matter.

.....I believe JRs comment has a lot of merit, and I am not saying that there is no truth to what he claims.  Surely, there must be those who spare death to themselves because of concern about the effect it would have on others.  I'm simply saying that in my experience those who do actually kill themselves have done so without any thoughts regarding the grief they will cause.  Too much unrelenting, overwhelming pain.

"To be, or not to be; that is the question." (Hamlet)

"I will drink life to the lees: all times I have enjoy'd

Greatly, have suffered greatly, both with those

That loved me, and alone."  (Tennyson)

.....Just a couple of comments on the comments posted on my "suicide" blog yesterday.  First off, cuzzin Ruthie of Britain, it wasn't I who said that suicide was cowardly--Napoleon did; and I haven't had the pleasure of an opportunity to meet him and ask him why he feels that way.  And as for one of my favorite all-time Hall of Fame students, Bob Fox, I was unaware that he had the knowledge of the nature of PTSD,   which he obviously has, but I'm glad that my posting touched a nerve of his, and I'm very impressed about his experience.  Probably my first experience with the trauma that brings on the kind of depression that leads to post-traumatic stress, was when I fi came to understand that my father was different from other kids' fathers; he had no legs and only one arm.  Of course, this was a result of gas poisoning in WWI, and when I understood this I became really pissed at the Germans.  I was about five or six, and I vowed that someday I would gain revenge.  Who knew?

.....After my dad died in 1933, we were too poor to remain in the relative peace and quiet by the beach in New Jersey, and so we had to move to the roughest, crime-ridden area in Fort Apache in the South Bronx, and took up residence in my maternal grandparents' roach-ridden apartment. That really brought on depression; and I was only nine.  I missed my friends, and missed the easy life I had in Long Branch.  I suppose at that time I was pretty close to what is now known as PTSD.  But now, as I remember, the very first times I had a traumatic experience, but didn't know it, was the day I was born out of a warm and comforting compartment, and cast like a Steinbeck Okie directly into the Great Depression.  Following that fardel, another trauma, only a couple of weeks later, was my circumcision, which was unceremoniously accomplished without my permission and in direct violation of the Bill of Rights. 

.....But in all seriousness, I could say much more about my suicidal tendencies in my 20s following my war experiences, but that time is history, and my fortune now, with my amazing wife, is to enjoy whatever I have left of life, and to deal as best I can with its "slings and arrows."  I have learned my lesson well in that regard.

"It is cowardice to commit suicide" (Napoleon)

.....I recently learned that there are 18 suicides every day in the armed forces.  This is a shocking number.  I do not remember anything like that about suicides in WWII while I  was a member in the military.  I did not feel anything like that, but the truth is that every time I entered our B-24 for a combat mission--it was in reality a kind of suicide.  However, I do remember the times after the war that I was suicidal.  I don't know why, but for some reason I feel embarrassment when I admit that to anyone--and especially now that I write about it.  Following my discharge, when I went back to work in a bank as a teller,  it didn't take very long before I felt like a dead fish in stagnant water.  Banking was not my thing--I didn't know what to do about it.  I was having nightmares and flashbacks about my war experiences, and I simply felt a huge emptiness in a life which seemed to be going nowhere.  I lacked an education and could not afford college costs.  After attempting a leap from my bedroom window, my sister screamed at me and pulled me back.  (I wasn't about to jump, anyway).

.....This all happened while I was scheduled to be married on June 15, 1946.  Invitations were printed, but the marriage on that day never happened.  My mother insisted that I go to see someone for help in a VA hospital in the Bronx.  I told her that there was nothing wrong with me, but to please her I went and vowed that I would be back shortly.  What happened was that after a session with a psychiatrist there, I was admitted to a "lock ward" (bars on the windows) and was kept there for six months.  Suicides must be prevented, and can be if family, teachers, friends observe the signs of people who are suicidal; no plans for a future, severe depression, avoidance of contact with people, angered easily, loss of appetite, sleeping long and frequently.  At the time I went to the hospital I was diagnosed with "battle fatigue" which today is known as PTSD.  When these signs are apparent, especially with a veteran, he must be urged to get help. It must be insisted upon.  I have been kept on an even keel by medication and psychiatric treatment in VA hospitals for the past thirty years.  I still go.  Not that I enjoy it, or need to. I just like listening to the radio in my car during the 45 minutes it takes for me to get there.

.....Besides wanting to die after coming home from war, I also wanted to die following surgery on my hips.  During that time, the pain I felt was too much to bear--even with the morphine in the pain pills I was taking.  I know that I was taking what I think was called oxycoden (sp).   The nurses I see in doctors' offices always ask to say what the level of your pain is "from 1 to 10" with 10 being severest.  Well, my pain during my recovery was off the chart.  I felt the only way to relieve me from that pain was to die.  Really. But, unfortunately I didn't know how to do it. I thought maybe with a firecracker or my starter's pistol.  I'm OK, now, though, and I'm glad I didn't know how to die, because I'm about to be a great grandfather in a couple of weeks, and I've recently become a grandfather-in-law.  Also, if I were to die, I would never be able to have another bagel and vegetable cream cheese nor spaghetti and meatballs, or even gefilte fish with horseradish.

"I always voted at my party's call, and never thought of thinking for myself at all." (HMS Pinafore)

.....From what I've read and heard, Rep. Akin of Missouri, has decided to continue his misguided contumely regarding a woman's right to an abortion in the case of rape or incest.  I don't know what woman could possibly think of voting for this man...or any other man for that matter, who is running for political office, and who thinks as Akin does about women's rights.  May God forbid that anyone of this mindset should win a seat in Congress or the White House.  I don't really mean a "personal God" who resides in Heaven and makes decisions about human hubris; only voters can prevent this kind of arrogance in America.  Factually, I am a "Tooth Fairy Agnostic"; I cannot prove that there is a God for the believers, but the likelihood of there being such a presence is about as likely as there is a Tooth Fairy.  

.....Aside from the miserable Akin, I have also read and heard about the millions upon millions of dollars being spent by the candidates running for election in November, much of the money emanating from the pockets of the wealthy.  We have become a Plutocracy rather than a Democracy.  Rarely can an ordinary man or woman run for office who does not have wealth of their own, or who has gathered millions from sources whose personal interests would be at risk if their favorite candidate loses.

As for my preference--I would hope that we become (once more) a "Meritocracy".  The word is especially interesting because it was widely used in Britain after Tony Blair, former Labour Prime Minister, in his speeches, used it to mean a social system which allows people to achieve success proportionate to their talents and abilities as opposed to one in which social class or wealth is the controlling factor.

.....I don't mean to denigrate my friends--or any of their friends--who are Republicans, but they have an agenda vastly different from mine.  And I do respect their rights to establish their own beliefs regarding government.  I know a couple of desires for our country that conservatives want to see--"smaller" government, and fewer "entitlements".  However, I believe the Tea Party is way too far to the right, and their tea bags should be purloined as quickly as possible, and their cups put back in the cupboard.  

Supreme Court Decision=Abortion is Legal; deal with it. (Baron)

.....Every year that goes by now, and as election days draw near, it amazes me how so many American voters choose the kind of person they want to be seated in governmental positions where important decisions are being made that affect women and women's right to make choices about their own health and well-being.  The most stupid and dangerous of these politicians is Rep. Todd Akin, the Republican Senate candidate from Missouri, a staunch abortion opponent, who actually said that victims of "legitimate rape" rarely get pregnant because a woman's reproductive system "shuts down" in such cases preventing contraception!  No doubt, this idiot must have been a low C- student in college, providing that he went to college, who never took a course in basic biology.  And so what did he mean by "legitimate rape"?  Is it as the cartoonist Lowe portrayed Akin abusing a pregnant woman by saying, "Admit it!  Your lips were saying 'No,' but your eyes were saying, 'Yes!' "?  Would his wife agree, I wonder that this is legitimate rape?  And Mitt Romney, by selecting Paul Ryan as his running mate, is moving further to the right.  Ryan co-sponsored a bill that could ban in-vitro fertilization, the birth control pill, and all abortions even in cases of rape or incest.  (He would also ban gays in the military and same sex marriages).

.....Akin is not the only Republican, nor many right wing voters (and Democrats, also) making it more and more difficult for women to obtain abortions by choice.  Doctors who perform that procedure and clinics providing that service are under attack, and more and more state legislatures are passing laws that attempt to bypass Rowe V. Wade.  It is my opinion that more than being the champions of unborn fetuses, most of the anti-abortion movement is guided by religious fervor rather than secular belief.  But that's OK--as long as those whose religion opposes abortion do not override the choices that women have a right to make about the use of their own bodies, their own health and well-being.  America is not a Muslim country where those who make disparaging views of the Koran are subject to death.  And in this country women ought not to be forced to have a baby as the result of rape--because of religious fervor or not, or because of rape, "legitimate" or not.

Blogging for Americans (Red Baron)

.....I have been asked many times by friends and relations about my blog, and particularly they ask "What's a 'blog'?"  Many Blogs are online diaries or journals chronicling activities and events as they happen to the writer or which have happened in his past life.  Some writers chronicle only brief entries while others provide extended essays on life, the universe, philosophy, politics, education,  and everything, and anything else.  I'm one of the latter.  The views I express on my blog may not coincide with the views of those who leave comments on a particular posting on this blog.  I believe in the first amendment about free speech, and I am also quite certain that all my commentors do; so I never censor a comment, and anyone who does not approve of what I write may always add a comment with a view that clashes or crashes with mine.  But  since this is my blog,  I write about my own views whether or not they bend someone out of shape.  (I also reserve the right to change my views with sufficient reason to do so.)

.....So, of late, I have learned that several states where Republicans are in control  have passed a law requiring voters to show a valid ID with a photo.  To me, at least, this law smacks of political chicanery, because states with this law taking America back from the present, have Republican Governors, Legislatures, and Judges, the idea?  To keep African-Americans and the elderly who typically vote for Democrats away from the polls because most do not have photo IDs or driver's licenses.  The next thing we can count on if Romney and Ryan gain the White House is goodbye to Medicare, Medicaid, Social Security, and Affordable Health Care as we know it.  Then, it appears, repeal of the Emancipation Proclamation, the Bill of Rights, and the Constitution.  Then King Mitt Ist, to be crowned in 2020.

.....In the past few years, Obama has made affordable health care available to an additional 30 million Americans, and ensures no one loses insurance coverage because of a preexisting condition.:
.....Passed a Wall Street reform bill to make sure we never again let big banks write their own rules and put taxpayers or the economy at risk with their bad decisions, and created the Consumer Financial Protection  Bureau to look out for ordinary middle class Americans.
.....Made college more affordable for children and grandchildren by increasing the maximum Pell Grant and creating the American Opportunity Tax Credit, which gives students and their families up to $10,000 over four years to help cover college tuition.
.....Removed Osama Bin Laden permanently with a courageous decision that allowed our military to accomplish the mission.
.....Revitalized the automobile industry in Detroit.
.....Helped Libyans defeat their dictator by establishing no fly zones with our allies.

.....Simply put, a Republican president and a Republican Congress could destroy in a few months what it took Democrats 80 years to build.

.....And, Oh Yes, they might also tax me out of the $24 check I received today for 

royalties from my book sales. (But keep those sales going, my friends, on your Kimbles.).... 

Memorabilia

.....At the risk of this being self-serving (which it really is not), I am publishing here on my blog a letter which I received a while ago from a former student at North Shore H.S.
I am publishing it, because I do not want it to be lost; it does shed some illumination about a part of my life, now gone.  This, like all the other posts on this blog since 2007, will be published in book form a few months from now, and thus, hopefully, be available to my progeny, my grand-progeny, and my soon to be great-grand-progeny after I pass through this world and, and as Hamlet would have it, "...the rest is silence."

Hey, Doc:

Funny how things come around . . . I’ve wanted to get in touch with you many times over the years.  Seeing Joel and Bobby (your handsome sons) at North Shore’s 50^th was a great – and unexpected  – pleasure.  We talked about you, and the experience refreshed a lot of lapsed memories.

I don’t know if Joel told you, but I was very disappointed at the anniversary celebration to find stacks of booklets on the cafeteria tables featuring articles from former North Shore students honoring their most memorable teachers – and not to see your name among them.  After speaking with several other people there, I learned that, like me, most of them had never received any communication from the district soliciting submissions for this booklet.   I know I can speak for many other former students of yours in saying that in my book, your name is at the top. 

Joel also sent me a newspaper article about the medals you earned -- and finally received – from the Navy.  I have to acknowledge that I’ve neglected to give you something I owe you, too:  I never let you know what a tremendous impact you had on my life.

I remember the day I walked into your classroom for the first time.  It was 1971; I was a sophomore, and the class was Shakespeare – held in the portable structure off of the “J” wing.  I arrived late to class (a trademark), and recall you looking over the top rim of your glasses at me from the front of the room, but saying nothing.  I wondered whether you were going to give me a hard time.  I had all but dropped out of most of my classes, and was taking home failing grades in those I did attend, so I was accustomed to conflicts with teachers.  But this was the first time any English elective had been offered to sophomores.  I was interested, though I never had any intention of actually doing any work.

Within a few moments after I settled into a seat at the back of the room, you began to recite from Macbeth in flawless Elizabethan English:

            To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time . . .

I was immediately stirred by the beauty of the language and your perfection of the tongue – so much so, that I went home that night and memorized the entire soliloquy.  For days afterward, I was hoping you would call on me in class and ask me to recite those lines.  Of course you had no way of knowing that I’d learned them, and I was way too cool to come right out and tell you how you’d inspired me from the minute I heard you speak (Ah, but I was so much cooler then . . .).

I learned to love Shakespeare that semester, and I was determined to sign up for any course you were teaching.  I was able to get into your poetry class the following year, where I devoured Samuel Taylor Coleridge and Edwin Arlington Robinson and Christopher Marlowe, for openers. 

I remember hearing you recite from Andrew Marvell:

            The grave’s a fine and private place,

            But none, I think, do there embrace.

. . . and commenting: “unless, of course, you’re a necrophiliac.”  I was secretly delighted to be one of the few who got the joke.

And of course I remember sitting around your living room, playing Suzanne, engaging in philosophical discourse with the likes of Raphael and Bob Blitz (and that attractive son you’d been hiding at Cornell), and knowing I was welcome. 

In addition to the medals you earned in the service, there are several others you deserve:

!One for bringing to life for me the beauty of language and literature

!One for treating me with respect, even when I had no credentials

!One for appreciating my individuality and encouraging me to develop my talents

and

!One for the high standards you set by your own example

I know that you’ve earned these medals many times over from the students you’ve taught over the years. 

As for my life today, I am the editor at a public relations boutique in Great Neck.  It’s not Shakespeare, but it does keep my writing skills sharp.  Prior to joining this firm I taught English courses as an adjunct at New York Tech, and worked as contributing editor on a book titled, Best Wineries in North America (hey, you write what you know). 

As I was raising my three boys, Tim (27), Ian (21) and Seth (16), I went to school at NYIT because it was cheap and conveniently located.  After graduating summa cum laude, I applied for the doctoral program at Columbia, and was rejected in spite of a 4.0 average.  I applied again the next semester, and was rejected again.  Determined to get in, I enrolled as a non-matriculated student, fulfilled my foreign language requirements and took courses in Anglo-Saxon Language and Literature and The Great Books.  I did well enough for the Ivy League cabal to let me into a terminal master’s program.  I had hoped at the time to continue on for a Ph.D. somewhere else, but children, and eventually a long divorce, made it impossible (though I’m not dead yet).  I am now (happily!) remarried to David French, son of Dr. John French, who I’m sure you remember.  As I said, it’s funny how things come around. 

I would love to hear from you – or better yet, see you one of these days.  Oh – my guitar playing, which was never very good, is a little rusty these days, but I still sing every chance I get. 

With love,

Deborah (Benson) French

"Fear always speaks from ignorance." (Emerson)

.....After I read Bob Fox's comment following the previous posting on this blog, I was forced to do some research on what he had to say.  Obviously, we had a difference of opinion on the subject of a moment of silence in tribute to the Israeli athletes who were brutally murdered by the Islamic Black September in 1972.  I've had many differences with various people whom I've known and respected, on many subjects, and I have never failed to publish their views.  Hopefully, they have respected mine; I have been around the block a few times, and my experiences have been very different   from those with whom I am in contact, and my life has shaped my views.  Insofar as Bob Fox is concerned, I have to admit that I am wrong and that he is right.  I have come to this conclusion because I have read several articles taken from different media, and these have convinced me that Jacques Rogge, President of the IOC was a political coward in refusing the moment of silence for the Israelis for fear of offending the enemies of Israel.  The following is one of the most vociferous voices:

The IOC has denied requests for an official remembrance of the Munich 11 during the games for fear of offending Arab countries participating in the games. Wednesday, Howard Stern called the IOC members "s**thead cowards": (The little "stars" indicate missing letters, of course.

Aly Raisman of the U.S. won the gold medal in floor exercise.

Photo credit:  

Getty Images 

"They have never honored the dead that were killed in senseless violence and the Olympic committee said 'no'. And why did they say ‘no’? Because 40 Arab countries threatened to not participate in the Olympics. First of all, f**k those 40 countries. You say: ‘F**k you. You don’t want to be a part of it? Don’t be a part of it. No one gives a s**t about you’. Secondly, why if you’re a country would you not want to say a prayer for people who were shot senselessly at an Olympic event? Regardless of what your background is. You can’t say: ‘Gee, that’s a horrible thing’? No? So you’re saying it’s a good thing...I don’t know what the Olympic committee is. I don’t know who sits on it, but really? What a bunch of s**thead cowards.”  

.....Not only have I noted Stern's angry response to Rogge's refusal, but many heads of state and other VIPs including Barack Obama, Hillary and Bill Clinton, Gov. Romney--and the list goes on and on have urged him to have a moment of silence at the opening ceremonies of these Olympics.  So, Bob, my good friend and still my student, I bow to your wise comment--you have purloined my wisdom!  Israel will never be recognized as a great bastion of Democracy in the Middle East, mostly because Moses took them to the wrong land--there is no oil, just great minds--and where does that get you?

"...cleanse the stuff'd bosom of that perilous stuff which weighs upon the heart." (Shakespeare)

.....There has been a controversy in the media throughout the Olympics in London that   is all about a "moment of silence" to precede the Opening Ceremony as a remembrance of the murder of Israeli athletes. The Munich massacre is is an informal name for an attack that occurred during the 1972 Summer Olympics in Munich, Bavaria, in southern West Germany, when eleven members of the Israeli Olympic team were taken hostage and eventually killed by the Palestinian group Black September.  During a failed rescue attempt,  five of the eight assassins were killed by German police, and the three others were taken prisoner.  However, they were released by Germany when Black September hijacked a Lufthansa aircraft.  Israel responded to their release by systematically tracking them down and killed by special forces.  However, and unfortunately, the Israeli operations killed one innocent in Norway and four passersby in Lebanon, with 18 others injured when the final assassin was killed.

.....A cousin of mine is an ardent, almost fierce, defender of Israel, and he is angry at the IOC because of their reluctance to have ordered a moment of silence for the fallen athletes on the 40th anniversary of their murders.  But he is only one of many, especially in the media who thought the IOC ought to have agreed to it.  I, for one, though Jewish and American do not believe that a moment of silence would have been an appropriate opening to cast, even a brief pall, over the Opening Ceremonies that are a visual cinnity of the celebration of youth and joy.  That is what the Olympics is, and ought to be.  There most certainly would be opportunities enough for the Israeli Olympic team to have a moment of silence, even while standing after they marched into the Stadium.  Of course, I admit that I might be biased because I was an athlete and a coach for many years, and I would not like a moment of silence of reminiscence before a game.

"A man is as old as he's feeling." (Collins)

.....The Baron went to a neighbor's 90th birthday party last night. He lives next door to me and he has been single since I first met him in 1983 when we both bought at Huntington Lakes. However, before he became single he was married three times; but I don't believe any of his exes attended the celebration. At any rate, Freddy paid for the whole affair all by himself. Since he always gets "compted" at any casino he attends in Mississippi, it was only right this time that he compted us. There were about 60 or 70 people there--friends, neighbors, cousins, and even a few from Germany where he worked following WWII, and learned to speak German fluently. 

.....The party was a real gala with an open bar all night, and a "disk jockey" who played music throughout the festivities, and who sang songs with real words that could be understood by all who speak English. I quick-started the evening with a Bloody Mary; I had originally asked for a Pina Colada, but was told this was not a cruise ship in the Caribbean. I was happy to hear that, because I broke both hips on cruises to the Caribbean, and had none left to spare. Besides, RH+ would not allow me any further cruising. 

.....The first serving at the meal was a spinach salad that I passed on. I'm Baron, not Popeye. The main dish was a filet mignon accompanied by mashed potatoes and asparagus, all of which I could tolerate. When I heard disco music, especially "YMCA" I insisted on a dance with RH+. Surprisingly, she allowed me to dance with her, in spite of my doing it with a cane, which is somewhat of a bother while dancing. I discovered that I could no longer do the kind of exciting dancing that I used to do before 1999 when we were both Astaire and Ginger. Besides, I was embarrassed by a two-year old who out-danced me, not with a cane but with a diaper. When I was 15-17, I won prizes in Madison Square Garden, jitterbugging to the music of Glen Miller, Artie Shaw, and Benny Goodman. No more. Pity.

.....After the dance, I eagerly awaited the dessert that turned out to be chocolate cake and vanilla ice cream which I washed down with a cup of tea and a diet coke. Now came the encomiums for Freddy when a neighbor, a cousin, a young lady friend, and a guy from Germany took charge of the mike and lauded the host who is a pretty spry guy for 90. The gals at my table insisted that I go up there and also say something nice, and that I should sing a song--"Rich Man" from "Fiddler"--which I do so often it has morphed into my iconic number. I don't use that word very often, so I looked it up and one definition had it  to mean,"A representation or picture of a sacred or sanctified Christian personage, traditionally used and venerated in the Eastern Church." 

.....Well, I guess I won't do that song again.

"Citius, Altius, Fortius"

.....I've been watching the Olympic Games being held for the third time in London.  I don't recall seeing them on TV the first time--probably because I was too young and there was no TV.  I can imagine the pressure on the athletes and the terrible feeling of loss if they do not win the medal they were looking forward to.  I've felt that pressure and I know the feeling of not only winning, but also of losing.  I know it from high school athletics and from coaching track and field and soccer for 30 years. However, the Olympic Games are far and away the most anticipated event for every athlete in every sport, and tears come with loss and even with winning.  The emotions are sorely tested, more so than many another event in one's lifetime.  

.....The Olympic Games in ancient times were part of a religious festival honoring Zeus, the father of gods. They were first held in Olympia, a rural site in western Greece, probably in 776 bC.  As an athlete one time, long ago, myself, I naturally became interested in anything Greek. I feel like an Olympian every time I walk into a Greek restaurant.  I love everything Greek, not only the Olympiad, but also Homer, Plato, Sophocles, Souvlaki & Pastitsio (baked pasta with meat), and Greek salads and soup.  

.....The Games were held every four years in Olympia for about twelve centuries.  Not only were they a religious institution but also the athletes were preparing for wars (which were held about once a year).  Many of the original events were brutal, and many a contestant was killed.  It is generally thought that nudity was a requirement in the beginning, and in wrestling, blows to the genitals were not banned in the rules--kind of like blows to the head in football now are not permitted. In the beginning, a foot race was the only event, but in the following centuries three foot races were added along with the pentathlon, discus javelin, and long jump.

.....The modern Olympics were staged in Athens in 1896, and here we are now  in London.  Almost every nation's Olympic team marched into the Olympic Stadium happy to be there, and smiling, with the British apparently cheering for them all.  But in every case, it seemed, the news back home was bad--civil wars, revolutions, the Arab Spring, earthquakes, tsunamis, floods, economic depressions, penury, starvation, and whatever else un-Olympian occurs on this planet.  Nevertheless, perhaps one day we will all be "Citius, Altius, Fortius"--Swifter, Higher, Stronger.