Ravings of a Poor Italian Boy

JOHNNY AND BILL

2009-10-18T04:58:00.000-07:00

JOHNNY AND BILL

I love fairytales….Don’t you?

Once upon a time in a land far away, there were two brothers; let’s call them: Johnny and Bill. (Names changed, and Americanized; to protect the guilty) Even though these guys didn’t grow up together, they were fraternal twins. Johnny grew up in the Middle East and Bill had his formative years in the Far East. To this day they have a lot in common.

I find it very curious that even though they grew up half a world apart, they acted very much alike.(maybe they were influenced by some of the same friends) Even though they both lived in rough neighborhoods, they tended to be ignored by many of their neighbors and other family members. You might say they were the black sheep of the family.

It seems these boys are incorrigible troublemakers. They just seem bent on trouble. Well meaning people in some of the larger communities have tried to intervene and reach out to them for many years, only to have their good intentions ignored and rejected. At some point, many of the neighbors decided it was best to just kind of ignore these guys and make believe that they might turn out just fine; if given enough time.

Even though these guys will often do things to aggravate the whole neighborhood, (and beyond) they also know how to kiss up when needed. Don’t get me wrong, these two guys are plenty smart, they know when they can get away with murder and when to fall in line and lay low. As much as I hate to admit it, they are both expert negotiators. They know how to push buttons and when to back off. They will bring an issue right to the point of a major confrontation and then back off a hair.(The old two steps forward and one step back routine)Lying, cheating, and reneging on agreements and treatise, are no more than useful tools in their tool bag.

Just like a sailboat that has to travel at angles to the wind, they may appear to be going in the wrong direction but they know where they want to end up, and the course they want to follow. They know when to appease the neighbors and just how far they can push. Like most spoiled kids, they know they can run to one parent when the other one says no and somehow get their way.

The funny thing is, that these little guys think they are 10 foot tall. They have a reputation of trying to threaten, bully, and push around their neighbors. They also have ambitions of being the ring leaders, the boss of the others bullies in their part of the hood. They know deep down that many other good citizens deplore violence and the use of force, and therefore are forced to tolerate their misbehavior.

Well, every few years all the other neighbors get together in New York and have a big meeting. They have a high sounding name to their “Club”, but in reality, they are like a lion with no teeth. They pass resolutions and enact sanctions meant to bring the brothers (and other troublemakers) into compliance, but to no avail.

Together they all decide collectively that the brothers need to be punished, but just can’t seem to agree on what the punishment should be. There is always a contingent that argues to “give them another chance”. Some members of the group want to punish them economically, beat them up a little, or at least give them a black eye. Others want to declare all out war on the offending parties, but they are in the minority. Still others attend the group meetings, pretending to be helpful. They want to keep their good standings with the rest of the neighbors in the group, but keep their real agenda hidden.

These senior members of “The Club”, try their best to appear neutral, however these members have in the past, benefited financially by selling things to the brothers, and want to continue that profitable relationship. So, although they attend the punishment meetings, they rarely agree to any substantial actions or sanctions against the twins. In fact they tend to delay the proceedings and complicate the issue by introducing other topics.

Others in the group would secretly like to see some of the better off neighbors get beat up a little, and they are more than happy to let their surrogates (the evil twins) do the work for them. (and take all the blame)

Like most large groups, it’s often difficult to get a consensus on any one subject. To make matters worse, some of the most influential neighbors in the group are often dissuaded from taking necessary action because they don’t want to appear too harsh to the rest of the group. In any case, the meetings seem to serve little purpose and the brothers always seem to buy themselves more time to pursue their own malevolent agendas.

For the most part the boys have mistreated and threatened their own family members and friends, but even a disinterested and distant neighbor can see that they are working on a plan to destabilize the entire areas in which they live in. One of the brothers is constantly threatening the Jewish neighbors and the other is always picking on his Japanese neighbor, as well as his own distant family that moved away to the southern part of the country, after their last big disagreement.

It seems that some people never learn. These guys have very few friends to turn to, and are despised by many. Over the years both brothers have been involved in some minor fights and skirmishes (even in their own houses) and both have had a few black eyes, but neither seems to get the message.

Everyone knows that despite the rhetoric they use, they will not willingly change from their evil ways, but no one wants to get involved. It is also widely known that the fella’s are working on, and trying to purchase the technology for a large baseball bat that will give them serious clout in their entire regions. They are insisting that they aren’t making a bat, and if they are, it’s strictly for peaceful purposes. Besides even if they were, they insist it’s just a piece of oddly shaped wood anyway, not a bat. Not only that, other kids have a big bat, and no one ever questions them.

Despite their denials, they are making very credible and grandiose threats to their closest neighbors. And everyone knows that if they obtain this “Louisville Slugger”, that they will, without hesitation or cause, use this new weapon against their perceived enemies. The funny thing is that everyone knows we have pictures of the brother’s, well concealed bat factory. We have even sent in independent inspectors to visit the bat factory. Everyone knows that they are almost done building their potent weapon.(I mean bat)

Most of the neighbors are distracted with all the things going on in their own houses, as well as their numerous meetings and discussions as to how to handle the evil twins. They constantly debate and argue as to the exact date that the evil twins will finally get their big bat, as well as the hypothetical date they will begin swinging it. There is also little doubt that the bro’s will sell their bat making patent and materials to other trouble makers. (Especially their distant cousin who’s name starts with an “S”, that lost his bat factory in an unexpected accident..I forget his exact name) It seems that the good neighbors or their loved ones need to be struck with the “big bat”, before they are willing to address the issue.

Well I guess in the end everyone has their own agendas. Maybe it’s best if we all just mind our own business, bury our heads in the sand, and believe in fairytales. Maybe given enough time, everything will just turn out for the best.

“Or Maybe Not”….Good thing this is just a fairytale about a few brothers and a bat.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

GOOD SPORT

2009-10-18T04:50:00.000-07:00

GOOD SPORT

I’m not really sure when sports as we know them actually came in being. My guess is that early sports were based on exhibiting and honing everyday skills and abilities. (We are talking back when Javelin throwing was a team sport.. “one guy threw, and the other caught”).If we look back as far as the early Greek Olympics, competitors challenged each other in foot racing, wrestling, and chariot racing.

Some early sports had their origin in necessity, like the marathon. It is widely believed that in 490 B.C. amidst a great battle between the Persians and the Athenians at a coastal town called Marathon, (hence the name)a runner was dispatched and ran the 42 kilometer distance (without the aid of Nike sneakers or Gatorade) nonstop back to Athens to warn his fellow countrymen of a impending attack. He reportedly died after arriving (now that’s commitment)

Somewhere along the line sports became more sophisticated and commercialized. Competitions between competitors became less about the challenge and more about entertainment, as these contests evolved into spectator sports. Games were devised that had little in common with everyday skills, but perhaps they had some common heritage. Rules and time limits were imposed as well as short breaks in the action. (Mostly to play beer commercials.)

In the early days organized sports represented a physical activity that people played and participated in. At some point most sports have morphed into more of a passive spectator game and a T.V. bonanza. In short, many watch and few play. We have built huge stadiums, racetracks, and arenas, to accommodate the ever growing population of sports enthusiasts and fans.

Let’s face it, professional sports today is a business, a big business. Professional sports franchise are worth millions and even hundreds of millions of dollars. Sports now fill the roll between entertainment and fantasy and allows the average fan to live vicariously thru their favorite teams and players. Many avid fans will spend the whole weekend in front of the T.V., just so that they will have fodder to talk about at work on Monday morning. Some are literally exhausted from taking in all the action, even though they have not expended a single calorie. They can recount in great detail, every game and event from the weekend along with statistics, scores, and color commentary.

Promoters and team owners profit handsomely by charging exorbitant ticket prices that fans willingly pay, just to watch their favorite teams and sports heroes play. There are season tickets, box seats, club row seating and luxury boxes. Ticket sales, television, and pay for view rights add up to mega bucks for smart team owners. Sales of clothing and licensed items are icing on the cake.

Individual players are also in the position of trading their talents for big pay days. Very few players are on the roster for the love of the game. Today the players make their decisions with the aid of unions, accountants, and managers. Endorsement contracts, personal appearance, television commercials, and book deals can not only supplement their pay but propel their earnings into the tens of millions. Make no mistake about it, sports are big business.

It’s now the norm for top pro players in most sports take home multi-million dollar salaries. Players can quickly achieve celebrity status and are sought out to do commercials, talk shows, endorsements, and guest appearances. These guys live like rock stars on steak and caviar while their fans live on hot dogs and hamburger helper.

Today, sports fever is running as high as ever. There are televised games and matches, talk shows about sports, and constant news highlights and screen crawlers reminding us of sports scores. There are even channels that play 24 hour sports. Fans and sports enthusiast are fanatical about support for their teams and many stay up late at night soaking in every statistic and game score.

The sport aficionado of today is increasingly removed from the playing field. He is more likely to be found in a lazy boy or sofa than on the field. Cold beer and chicken wing in hand, they will spend the entire weekend watching someone else play a sport.

Sports seem to be the common denominator of people all over the world. In the United States its football, baseball, and MMA. In Europe and South America its soccer (football), and in Alpine countries it’s skiing and bobsledding.

Every four years athletes from around the world gather together to compete in the biggest non professional event in the world, the Olympics. The Olympics have been around a long time, probably starting in 776 B.C. (and that’s not British Columbia) in Olympia Greece. One purpose of the games was to bring together athletes from different areas. They were granted safe passage even in times of war.

Originally foot racing and then pankration (an early form of MMA) were the main sports. Back then the athletes displayed their prowess for a fraction of the compensation that modern sports stars receive, with the winners getting laurel wreaths, and palm branches. There were no fancy uniforms, fat endorsement contracts, or work out gear from sponsors; in fact they usually participated naked. (I’m kind’a glad we let that tradition die out) Today players compete for the gold in everything from Gymnastics to Judo, and hungry sports enthusiast soak up every minute of the Olympic broadcast.

Today, most sports have lost their early association with daily activities and survival skills. (except for Nascar, which we Italians consider as practice in honing our skills in driving “get a way cars”) Also, the spectrum of activity that falls under the genre of sports has broadened. Many games and activities that I would be hard pressed to define as a sport are now packaged and sold to the public as “sports”. I would tend to refer to some of these activities as pastimes, hobbies, or even social events, but not as a sport. I have to question the level of fitness, training, or physical dexterity it takes to engage in some of these sports. (I don’t want to pick on bowling, but what other sport can you play while consuming beer and onion rings between turns)

To be honest, I’m not sure how anyone can spend hours watching these boring events in person, much less on television. For me they have all the visual appeal and excitement of watching paint dry.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

MADE IN AMERICA 2

2009-10-17T07:05:00.000-07:00

MADE IN AMERICA Part 2

“Made in America”…At one time these 3 proud words could be found on the majority of the highly quality and big ticket products that most Americans purchased. Made in America gradually became replaced with “assembled in America”, and then made in “xxx” (as in some other country). Back in the 50’s and 60’s the United States was an export powerhouse with a substantial trade surplus.
When I was younger, items made in places like Japan, China, and Taiwan were known for their poor quality and cheap prices, not any more. These other hungry economies have ramped up their people and manufacturing skills to the point where they can turn out high quality, first tier products at very competitive pricing.(some can even charge a premium price over ours) Over the last 20 years, American manufacturers have bowed to the superior quality and pricing of overseas competitors, and one by one they have closed their doors and exited previously profitable markets.
I think we have lost our way, as we have forfeited most of our manufacturing to overseas suppliers.(and with it, our manufacturing jobs base). We initially gave up small dollar and labor intensive products, but have since lost our capabilities in everything from steel to durable goods such as Televisions and refrigerators.
We were once the world leader in auto and aircraft manufacturing and are now relegated to a distant 3rd. Even American owned car companies are building and assembling their products overseas, due to reduced labor costs, tax advantages, and economic incentives. The American worker has turned his back on good old fashioned manual labor.(There is a feeling that this type of work is somehow beneath us) Everyone wants to be a computer nerd or white collar executive, no one wants to get their hands dirty. Somehow we figured that everyone needs to be rich to enjoy the American way. The truth is that not everyone needs to drive a Mercedes convertible or carry a Gucci handbag to be happy. There is nothing wrong with a pickup truck and a pair of wrangler jeans.
I will readily acknowledge that we are competing in a world economy, but it’s important to admit that we are losing the competition. We’ve lost more than sales by outsourcing our products, we have lost profit, jobs, and even the independence of not having to go to foreign sources for the products we need and rely on. We have built a reliance on other countries for our core supplies.
When we began picking and choosing what items we would make here and what items we could buy cheaper overseas, we start down a slippery slope. Starting off with humble beginnings foreign manufacturers have made giant in- roads into American consumer and business products.
I still believe that all things being equal, American consumers would still prefer to buy American made products. However there is no way American consumers want to pay more for a product of equal or less quality than they get from an import. Our factories are sitting ideal, our workers unemployed. Our demand and willingness to import the products that we need and want, tends to flow net dollars out of the United States instead of into our country. This resulted in a monthly net trade deficit of 32 billion in July of 2009 alone, and over 711 billion in a year. That means our hard earned dollars and cash flow are leaving the Unites States at an unprecedented rate. Not a good sign for our economy.
Today it’s harder to find things made in the good old U.S.A. than it is to find imported items. Even items that have been traditionally associated with being built in the U.S. are now made overseas. (Caterpillar equipment for example) We have tipped the scales deeply towards a deficit trade imbalance. In addition to products that are not price competitive we have burdened our manufactures with hideous income tax implications as well as payroll and health care cost burdens.
Surprisingly we have even turned our purchasing abroad for items needed for our own national security. We buy weapon systems and technology from others, or whoever is the lowest bidder. Even the standard issue firearm that our soldiers depend on, is not made in the U.S.
Couple this dependence with our need to import oil for energy and we weaken our position in the world, both economically and militarily.(strategically). A country that doesn’t produce its own durable goods is a paper tiger. Our own natural energy resources have not been fully developed and we also have not built any new refineries in years. Also, by dismantling our industrial capabilities we put our self in a position not to be able to gear up our military hardware in case of war. In previous wars we converted car plants to making tanks and aircraft.
Science and technology are great, but a superpower needs to also have an industrial base, and ours is eroding quickly. The notion that hard work or factory work is somehow dirty or beneath us, is destroying this country. Environmental concerns although valid, have been thrown in place before suitable alternatives have been developed.
As for me, I want “Made In America” to mean something again. It means our factories will be state of the art, profitable, and productive, and so will our people. It means world class products and fresh ideas, which can compete with quality and value on a global scale. It means economic security as well as national security. We need to become self reliant for our basic needs. This country cannot afford to be dependent or held hostage by any other nation to obtain our energy and core product needs. Made in America, means a stronger America.
Now is the time to act, because change takes time. The government should step in with more aggressive tax incentives for both manufactures and consumers of American products. I’m wondering, in 2020, when someone in a foreign country sees the made in America tag..What will it mean to them?
I want to see foreign currencies flowing into the United States, that are not tied to a loan they are making us. And finally I’d like “Made in America” to be something we can all be proud of. American companies need to manufacture their products here, not just have their head quarters here. The concept should be like a strong magnet that draws people, talent, companies, and money from all over the world to our shores. It’s time to roll up our sleeves and get to work.
Wake Up America…

Please feel free to contact me at: www.pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

HOPE

2009-10-17T06:44:00.000-07:00

HOPE

“Our hopes are sometimes fulfilled, and at other times they come crashing down against the wall that is reality. In either case, if we cease to hope and dream; we lose a certain part of our very humanity” …P.I.B.

“They say a person needs just three things to be truly happy in this world: someone to love, something to do, and something to hope for”

Tom Bodett

In the purest sense..Hope is what we wish for, the desired outcome; that which we would most like to occur. In many ways it’s similar to a life raft that we all can cling to, in a sea of uncertainty. It’s that little voice in the back of your head that tells us “it’s ok, you can do it”, while the rest of the world says it’s impossible. It encompasses our belief in ourselves, in others, in God, our ability to realize our dreams.

Hope comes from within and shines out. It’s our inner most feeling, that defies logic or explanation. It’s what we aspire to, what we dream of. I’m not sure if it comes from the mind or the heart. It is sometimes felt, sometimes talked about, but it can also be seen in the eyes of a hungry child.

Hope gives us a reason to live, a reason to face tomorrow. It offers optimism in the face of tyranny. Thru war, pain, suffering, sickness, injustice, and every human ailment and endeavor it burns brightly. Even in our bleakest hour, we can never lose faith or hope.

Hope, almost by definition defies logic and reason. It helps define who we are, and what we aspire to. It is the sum of our dreams and desires. Our hope gives us the inner strength to hold out or move forward, one more hour, or one more day. And perhaps if we have the strength to act, we can change things.

Hope is that small flame inside us that burns brightly, even on the darkest day. It gives us reason to hold out for that one chance in a thousand. It can make even the impossible, somehow within reach. We can cling to its promise and prevail despite the odds against us. It is the stuff that dreams are made of, it’s a road map for our subconscious mind.

I know that I will never give up or deviate from my course, as long as there is hope. It empowers me, it’s what makes me human.

“Hope is the stuff that miracles are made of”…..P.I.B.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

FIRST CAR

2009-09-20T14:00:00.001-07:00

FIRST CAR
There is no doubt that Americans have a love affair with the cars. Regardless of what any of us are driving today, we can all fondly remember our very first car.(perhaps this story will bring back memories of your own first car) As I think back, I can remember waiting with great anticipation for the moment that I could speed away without my parents in my own car. A car represented much more than just simple transportation, it represented freedom. I had gotten a taste of the “good life” while driving with a few of my slightly older friends that already had the good fortune of getting their license.
As the big day for my drivers permit approached, I was already day dreaming of driving. I can remember sitting in class, staring out the window, and listening to the drone of my teacher’s voice. My young mind would drift off as I watched the traffic pass by the school. I was mesmerized by the thought of unrestricted travel. I soon would be able to go anywhere I wanted, and when I wanted, in the comfort and style of my own car. In my mind, walking was highly over rated.
Perhaps I would get a Cadillac, Corvette, or a Mercedes. Maybe I could even talk Dad into getting me a convertible. My vivid imagination envisioned me racing by in a sports car convertible with my sunglasses gleaming and my hair blowing in the wind. I would slow down when I passed the school to make sure that all my friends could get a glimpse of me in my new ride. There would be no more sitting home in boredom for me.
Having my own car would open new adventures and possibilities to me. I could easily visit friends, go to the beach, travel to distant places and even take girls to the drive in movie. I glanced over at Carolyn, the hottest girl in the class and gave her a knowing wink. Even though she had not paid me a lot of attention up to this point, I felt certain that she would swoon, when I offered her a ride in my new sports car.
My daydreams were usually interrupted by the teacher calling my name and asking me to repeat what was just said. Of course I didn’t know and didn’t care, it was like being in love. In just a few short days I would finish driver education with the high school football coach as teacher and one of those weird cars with two steering wheels and two sets of foot pedals. I had driven the coach without incident, endless times around the parking lot and also to his bank, dry cleaners, and favorite lunch spots. It was clear, I was ready for Indy. Soon I would possess that small piece of paper that meant freedom. I would join the ranks and fellowship of legal drivers.
Well, soon the big day came and I passed my driving test with ease (ok..maybe I had a little trouble with parallel parking and I forgot to turn my turn signal off for 10 minutes..but I passed).
With my newly issued learner’s permit in hand I was ready to conquer the road., Just like some ancient ritual of passage that marked my coming of age, I had now joined the ranks of the adult world..Today I could drive, today I was a man.
Fortunately for me, it was Friday afternoon and that meant one thing..the whole weekend to perfect my driving game and be seen by all my friends. I was certain that today would be the last day that I would have to ride the bus home with all the other… “non-drivers”.
I had rehearsed this moment in my mind a thousand times. I felt reasonably confident that when the bus dropped me off in front of my house, I would receive my just reward for being such an outstanding driver and son. I knew I could count on old dad to remember the many hints and discussions we had about the type and color of sports car that I would prefer. I had even left a few car magazines conspicuously open around the house that morning as a refresher course on my new car preferences.
I was tingling with anticipation as the bus rounded the final corner from my home. My face was pressed up against the window as I practiced the surprised look that I would show my parents when they handed me the keys to my new set of wheels.
I can remember jumping down all three stairs of the bus and dropping my backpack in total surprise. For a moment, I stood there in shock as the bus door closed behind me and pulled off. I looked up the driveway and much to my surprise; the only car parked there was my mother’s old Dodge Dart (with the push button transmission).
There must be some mistake. Perhaps the bus had dropped me off at the wrong address. There was no new car, no giant red ribbon, and no eager parents, marching band, or well wishers there to greet me in a triumphant return from my driving test.
As I recall it took a day or two for the shock and full weight of the disappointment to set in. There would be no new car, no leather driving gloves, no dice hanging from the rear view mirror, and no shot at impressing my beloved Carolyn.
It was at that point that I learned that reality can be very humbling. My mom would be willing to drive with me on my learners permit, but she needed the car for her own use. She couldn’t part with it so that I could drive it to school (we actually tried one day, but I was so embarrassed, having to pull up and then have to hand the keys to my mother as she gave me a peck on the check in front of all the boys.) Over the next few weeks and months I bugged mom and dad for the opportunity to drive any chance I could get. Thinking back they were very gracious about spending the time with me, but I could never quite get them to match my enthusiasm for just “going for a ride”. They allowed me to chauffer them around for all their meetings, appointments, and shopping trips, and sometimes just to drive aimlessly for the fun of it.
I waited anxiously for the rest of the year until I was able to get my regular drivers license and actually take the car out on my own. I think it is a pivotal moment in a parent’s life the first time their child drives off on his or her own and leaves the parent there waving at the curb. (maybe they are just worried that the car may get scratched) It was also my first experience in paying to fill up the car. I could tell right away that this would not be my favorite part of the whole driving experience.(and it still is not today)
The young guy at the gas station would give me advice on how impress the girls with my automotive prowess. Always open the door for them, make sure you leave the car running if you have to go into the store for a few minutes, crack the window a little (or was that advice for when you had the dog in the car).
For me, it was several years latter before I got the chance to own my own car, and it was not exactly the thoroughbred that I had always imagined. Instead I bought an Old Camero, a muscle car, with a huge engine and extra wide rear tires, it was love at first sight. The fuel mileage was terrible and it pulled to the right, but I could win a race with most of the cars on the street. My parents had urged me to buy a dependable car like a Volkswagen, but I had other ideas.(after all..I knew best..right) It was my hard earned money and I was going to get exactly what I wanted ( or at least what I wanted, that was in my very meager price range).
When I had finally saved up enough money to buy my own first car, I guess I was too excited and bought the first car I looked at. I had zero mechanical knowledge (some things never change) and made the purchase without consulting a mechanic. Maybe during the test drive, I should have noticed the smoke coming from the exhaust, the squeaky brakes, or the tires rubbing the wheel wells when I went around a corner. Not to mention the near bald tires and missing engine mount. I found out that buying your first car is very much like falling in love the first time. For me, excitement took over where logic should have prevailed. The first car is after all a very emotional purchase.
Well, as luck would have it, I learned a very costly lesson and I spent more time under the hood than in the driver seat. In the end I was the proud owner of several more used cars before I finally purchased my first new car.
Well, I’ve had many new cars since then, and I still let my emotions interfere when I get the bug for a new car. There is something about the smell and feel of a brand new car that quickens my heart. There are so many new buttons to push and gadgets to work. Our cars are almost like a statement about ourselves. I always bargain with the dealer before I buy, but once I get in the frenzy I know deep down that I won’t walk away. I’m driving a much nicer ride these days, but there will always be a special place in my heart for my first car.
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

FAMILY VACATION

2009-08-29T16:04:00.000-07:00

FAMILY VACATION

Few events leave such an indelible impression on our young memories as that of the family vacation. From the time we were all kids we learned to look forward and anticipate the much heralded family vacation. Of course as we get older and become parents we look forward to sharing the same golden moments with our own children. I still treasure my fond recollections of our early family trips.

It really didn’t matter where the actual destination was, the excitement built with each passing day. Our parents saved and planed for the trip all year, and then marked off the days until the big event. The trip became bigger than life. The fun we would have, the time together. I think the excitement of the upcoming trip helped Dad get thru his grueling daily work schedule. Vacation is a time for us to all get away from our daily routines and just have a good time.

As I look back some of our trips went off without a hitch and others were more reminiscent of the Chevy Chase Vacations with the Griswalds.(on their way to Wally World) It reminds me that despite our best plans, most thing seem to take on a life of their own. Over the years we had taken many fun family vacations together and they all have a special place in my memories. Perhaps this account of one of our trips will trigger some of your early memories.

My Mom and Dad could be seen huddled over the kitchen table on many nights planning, plotting, and rehearsed the trip down to the smallest detail. In the days and weeks leading up to the big day, we were frequently reminded about the trip, and our bad behavior was often cited as a reason we would not be going. (usually coupled with a threat to leave us at our least favorite aunt’s house. It seems like I never really knew if I was actually going until the very last minute).

As the big day approached, Dad would be totally prepared. He would have the car washed, gas tank filled, the tires checked, and seating arrangement selected. Dad was without question the captain and Mom, his trusty first officer, as they ran thru the requested drills in the driveway. He would review and assure himself that everything on his carefully planned check list was ship shape and ready to go. You would have thought he was planning a military invasion.

On the day of the trip we were awaken at the specified time (O’ dark thirty) and given exactly half an hour to eat and get ready. It was imperative that we set sail at the exactly the appointed time.(you would think we would miss the high tide or something). We were then all scurried out to the car, still half asleep, and had to assume our pre-assigned seating arrangements. Although technically we were all assigned our own space, the plan unraveled immediately as we all got in the car with our own “must have” belongings including blankets, pillows, and toys.

We filed into the car that was loaded to the max with suitcases, blankets, and provisions for the long trip to Florida. Everything was in its assigned place and according to the pre-determined load chart. I can remember Dad checking his watch and sighing with relief as the car wheels left the driveway at exactly the planned departure time (I only wish today’s airlines could match his precision)

Dad, had carefully planned the road trip and had his navigator (Mom) standing by with compass and map to insure that we did not deviate from the plan. He had vigilantly planned the number of miles we were to transverse each day and had pre-arranged where we would stop for the night. Rest stops, stretching, and bathroom breaks were carefully planned to coincide only with fuel stops, so as to conserve time and insure that we arrived on schedule.

I think the early departure time was derived with the plan that the three of us would fall back to sleep and not awaken until rest stop number one well behind us. As fate would have it, the best made plans were soon to be led askew. I don’t think we had even crossed the county line before the inevitable monkey wrench was thrown into the mix. I was soon awakened by the sound of my younger brother making the rather fearful statement that he needed to go to the bathroom.

At first I believe that my father had chosen to ignore the timid request, but perhaps he did not hear it. Unfortunately when a 7 year old has to go, there is no such thing as waiting. After the 3rd , and much more urgent request, it was evident that his needs had to be addressed. Dad, was evidently prepared and was not about to be so easily diverted from his careful plan. With a grin, he reached under the seat and quickly produced a soda bottle that he handed back over the seat to my brother. My brother just looked at the bottle and then up at my mom with a pained look on his face.

Well, I’m not sure how it works in the Navy, but in our household, the Captain was subject to being overridden by the first officer in matters that pertained to the children (and as I recall, a whole host of other family issues) and dad was quickly ordered to pull over at the first gas station. He immediately realized that Mom had pulled rank on him and reluctantly pulled over at the first gas station. At this point, there is some unknown universal force that somehow requires all of the cars occupants to now need to use the bathroom, when only moments ago they were fine.

We were quickly back on the road again and I watched as the speedometer climbed well past the speed limit, with dad nervously scanning in all directions for potential speed traps. I think he was determined make up for the unexpected stop. Besides in all of his travels he had never received a ticket on the parkway.(Seems like everyone in Jersey was always in a hurry and rarely abided by the speed limit. especially “Rocket Ship Rocco” as we lovingly referred to him as)

The next few hours were relatively uneventful until the three of us were fully awake and full of energy. I guess there is another type of universal law that prohibits kids from sitting quietly for long periods of time. In any case we quickly became bored with the confinement and seating arrangements and as kids are want to do, we soon began picking on each other.

After a few admonishments from dad, our level of banter had increased to quite annoying levels, even by my standards. We were soon threatened with the age old parental threat of “don’t make me pull this car over” If we had been at the house, everyone would have simply retired to our own rooms and the situation could have been easily diffused. (or Mom would have lovingly administered the “wooden Spoon”) There was something about being in the confines of the now overloaded car seemed to magnify every sound, slap, pinch, giggle, and whimper. However, I think it was the last round of “ I got you last” that probably put dad over the top.

Dad was never much of a hitter but it was clear he was reaching his boiling point when we noticed a few quick one handed slaps being carelessly dealt out over the back seat with no real intended target. Although he never actually reached us, it was clear that he was willing to throw a shoulder joint out trying. Mom, for her part, was not so much trying to stop him, (I think I recall her saying..”not in the face..not in the face” )as she turned and quickly silenced us by giving us the evil eye stare.(the kind where she her whole head would shake) She had again over written Dad’s plans and made him promise to stop every few hours so that we could run around and get rid of some excess energy.

For the next few hours Mom tried every motherly device in her book of tricks to keep us amused and quiet. We were issued coloring books, sang songs (yes..even the perennial and irritating 100 bottles of beer on the wall), counted passing Volkswagens, re- arranged seating assignments a few times, and ended up with last ditch effort and psychological best seller…”lets see who can be quite the longest.”

I can remember being awakened again as we crossed the Georgia state line, by the sound of a siren and some flashing lights. I guess dad had decided to make up for some lost time by running a few miles per hour over the speed limit. It didn’t take him long to discover that the Georgia highway patrol was not quite as tolerant about speeders as the troopers on the old Garden State Parkway were. Dad was visibly upset but kept his Italian temper under control and was not about to talk back to the very serious trooper as he wrote out a ticket. Especially with the recent vision of the chain gang workers we had just passed along the roadway. (a quaint old Georgia tradition)

Shortly after we got back underway, I was again alerted, this time by the sound of the cars transmission crying out like a scolded cat. The big green Plymouth Furry had picked this moment to “go on the Frits” (I’m still not really sure what that means). In any case, the car would operate normally if we stayed below 40 miles an hour (which was the equivalent to sacrilege to a driver like my dad, who really belonged on a race track or the autobahn ).

He tested the limits of the “tranny” time after time, hoping that maybe the problem would just “go away by itself” (I had very little mechanical knowledge at the time, but I somehow doubted it would) but of course it would not. The frustration level increased ten fold as dad was forced to adjust his travel speed to the new 40 mile an hour limit (he had on occasion been known to exceed that speed while still in our driveway). The thought of us being broken down on the side of the road in an unfamiliar state ran thru all of our minds.

I’m really not sure what bothered Dad more, the fact that we had been irreversibly thrown off his well planed schedule, or the fact that he faced a large repair bill at some unknown gas station. To be honest, the combination of the two had caused him to become a little irritable (and I say that quite charitably). In any case, he made the decision to push ahead, even at the cost of frying the car transmission. He was taking us to Florida and would not be denied.

In any case we all celebrated as we eventually crossed the Florida border to the sounds of the back seat chorus announcing “we’re here..we’re here”. Well it turns out we were not there, because my grandparents house was down towards Miami. The next 5 grueling hours made me wish we had stayed home, as everyone’s patience was worn razor thin at this point.

We finally arrived, spent and exhausted with the interior of the car looking like a hurricane had run thru it. The back seat was a maze of blankets, fast food wrappers, lost shoes, and stinky socks. Somehow I knew that this trip was not quite as advertised (and made a note to complain to my travel agent) and after a few fun days in Florida (and at the transmission shop), we would be treated to a repeat performance on the trip going back home. I guess that’s why to this day I hate road trips. I’d much rather suffer for a few hours next to a perfect stranger, in a crowed airplane seat, eating salted peanut. But maybe things haven’t changed so much, because the last time I traveled, I still ended up getting my seat kicked every few minutes while the 3 kids behind me played “got you last” …Kids will be Kids…

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

TURNING POINT

2009-08-29T15:58:00.000-07:00

TURNING POINT
“In each of our lives, there comes a point where we feel compelled to take a different path. Our age and past experience does not represent a barrier, but we must be willing to open our eyes and accept change” P.I.B.

I felt an inner peace as I waited for the master to enter the room. He had chosen the ideal place for this ceremony. The simple but tasteful building looked out over a well tended garden. Everything seemed to be in its place as I looked out upon an area of carefully raked sand with a large stone in the middle of it. Behind that was a small stream with a red wooden bridge and the sound of water could be heard as it flowed gently over some moss covered rocks. Time seemed to stand still here, a great departure from my everyday life of hard work and training.
I have to admit that I would not have made this visit if my father had not insisted. He is a wise man and I always take his council. My father has taught me well. He has raised me in the proud tradition of the Samurai. I was born into a noble class of people. I have always been aware of the respect that ordinary people showed my father. Heads bowed and people moved out of his way as he walked, with his ever present swords at his waist. Honor and service were his guiding principles.
From an early age I studied the art of the sword, of the bow, and empty hand combat. I learned that power came from strength and the ability to take a life. I had pledged my life, as my father had, to the service of our master. I would willingly fight and even die in his service. (samurai. meaning “to serve”) This was the way of the samurai.
I must admit that for the first time I had questioned my father’s wisdom. I did not understand how watching an old man prepare tea could help in my martial training. Now that I am of the age to go to battle, this was to be my final lesson. My father had told me that this man had been sought out by many samurai and was invited by the emperor himself to perform the ancient ceremony. To be honest, I did not show the proper courtesy to the master. I sat in front of him stiffly, with my arms crossed in protest of being there.
The master soon entered the room and with no emotion or wasted movement, he began his well practiced ritual, the tea ceremony. I watched with great interest as the old man prepared the tea, with his exacting and deliberate movements and total focus. It was like poetry to watch as he carefully laid the ladle down and whisked the powered tea with a flourishing movement. I noticed that he handled his tools with the same reverence that I handle my swords. He set the cup of tea on the mat in front of me as he slowly and purposely turned the cup so that the inscription would face me, his guest.
When he was finished with the ritual, he looked me in the eyes and told me that there was more than one path. When he was a young man he too only knew of killing, but many years ago he discovered that there was another way to serve, to achieve excellence, and to find purpose. He discovered that the sword was not the only way. A samurai had once spared his life in battle, and afterward he changed the direction and purpose of his life.
After that day, I had proudly fought in many battles. Both my long and my short sword had been wet with blood on many occasions. My strength and skill as a warrior had multiplied, and my courage was known to all. I took no joy in killing, nor did I ever sense any remorse. I had always fought with honor and courage; it is the code of bushido, the way of the samurai.
After many conflicts and years of victory on the battle field, I was to at last taste defeat. During my charge on horseback an arrow found its way past my shield and armor and lodged into my side. It seems that my horse had met with a similar fate and as he buckled and fell under my weight, I was thrown to the ground. For a moment I saw darkness but my instincts took over. My katana had been thrown clear, but I reached for my short sword. It was at this moment that my remaining weapon was thrown from my hand by the force of a mighty blow from a fearsome opponent. I looked up from my back to face my assailant, with a mixture of dirt and my own blood in my eyes.
My worthy opponent was standing over me, he stood on my chest and was ready to run me through with his sword. With my free hand I loosened my helmet and invited him to end my life with honor. It seemed like all the noise and furry of battle had stopped for that brief moment as I viewed his gleaming sword held high above me and reflecting the sun.
I had found myself in his position many times and would not deny a fellow samurai the right to die with dignity. It was at that moment that I recited a short haiku ( a brief poem, of strict construction), and awaited my fate.
It seems that my haiku had amused my opponent and his sword hesitated. He looked at me for a moment and then with one fluid movement he shook the blood from his sword, returned it to its sheath and turned away. As he turned to rejoin the battle he said to me. There is another path, the sword is not the only way. A great tea master once told me that a great warrior will sometimes spare a life, and not always take one. I’m not sure if it was luck or fate but my life had been spared by a warrior greater than me.
I laid there for a while, contemplating what had just happened to me. Had I shown fear, had I failed to accept death at the hands of my enemy? If so, I had disgraced my master, myself, and my family. I knew that the honorable thing to do would be to take my own life, but I was too weak. I soon passed out from the loss of blood.
I had awakened many hours latter and the fury of the battle had passed me by. I staggered to my feet and found my way past the remnants of the mighty battle. The fullness of the moon had shown me the way past many dead bodies of man and beast and back out of the battlefield.
Several months later when I had healed, I again visited the tea master. This time I came before him as a more enlightened man and a humble student. There would be time for war and battles later, for now I was open to following a new path.
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

SHIP SHAPE

2009-08-15T05:13:00.000-07:00

SHIP SHAPE

They call Fort Lauderdale the Venice of the United States. It’s also known as the boating capital of the United States. The beautiful beaches, outdoor cafes, and sunshine are a magnet to tourists world wide. In the last few years Fort Lauderdale has gone upscale, distancing itself from its former claim to fame as the college spring break place to be. Newly built high end condos and five star hotels now trace the shoreline.
Health conscious and very fit joggers, skaters, and bikers exercise along the roadways and sidewalks. It’s very scenic as you look past the palm trees, the white beach, and out over the water to the cruise ships and tankers anchored and waiting patiently offshore for their turn to enter the port. Fort Lauderdale Beach is defined by the inter-coastal waterway running the full length of the city and separating the mainland from the beaches it’s a boater’s paradise. Each year the city also hosts the country’s largest boat show. Hundreds of boats, yachts and accessories, from around the world are on display and priced to sell. Rich buyers from around the world attend with their check books at the ready.
It just makes sense that ocean loving people are drawn to this area and to the boating life style. In other parts of the country, people buy large homes in gated communities, because they are in good school districts, or close to great golf courses, in Fort Lauderdale it’s all about making sure your yacht has a good home. There is even an annual night time lighted boat parade each year to showcase your newest toy.
The exclusive south Florida location brings together a unique mix of great weather, excellent fishing, easy access to deep water, and most importantly: Money, lots of money. Even when the rest of the country is experiencing a down turn, these folks don’t feel a thing. I’m not sure if its old money, new money, stolen money, or drug money, but its here in abundance. A quick trip down the inter-coastal will reveal lavish houses and mansions, along the palm tree lined and always calm waterway.
The abundant man made canals, rivers, and waterways, are lined with the homes of the rich and famous. These well tanned tycoons run the gamut from Captains of industry, lawyers, doctors, movie stars, yacht brokers, car dealers, drug dealers, and perhaps the richest of the rich…plastic surgeons. There are huge multi-million dollar houses with carefully manicured lawns and gardens, complimented with custom built swimming pools, fancy cars, and pool houses.
A few of the things that make these homes stand out are the hi-end cars in the driveway and the boats that they have docked behind them. Boats, or more correctly yachts are docked majestically behind most of the homes. In this city, wealth is measured by the size of your boat and how many feet of seawall you control. On the east side of Broward county, Sailboats, trawlers, go fast boats, and sleek fishing vessels are the rule rather than the exception…Not to be outdone by other locations, these are the types of yachts you will see in other major resort destinations world wide, like Miami, Virgin Islands, and the French Riviera.
I can’t help but wonder what type of individual needs a boat of these dimensions. These things are the size of small cruise ships or mini- aircraft carriers. The cost of most of these beauties can well exceed the G.N.P of a small country. The price tag for this type of luxury toy can easily exceed a million dollars with many in the 5 to 40 million ranges. They shout. “I have money. I have arrived.” (I’ve cheated on my taxes) The owners of these marvels can well afford the price and they typically spend more money topping off their fuel tanks, or tipping the dock master, than Joe Average makes in a month.(I winze when filling up the old pick-up truck at the 7-11)
I’d love to be a fly on the wall when these future boat owners were justifying these multi-million dollar price tags in their own minds. “Hey, I need a boat like this to take the guys fishing”. (Fishing off a boat like this is akin to hunting duck from your own Lear Jet.) Or, “think of the money I’ll be saving on hotel rooms.” Lets see: at $99/night at Embassy suites it would only take one hundred and one thousand nights (or 376 years) to pay back a ten million dollars boat. (I could stay at a real Embassy if I had that kind of jack).
Well, I guess you can justify or rationalize anything in your own mind. To be honest, yachting is a great life style; in fact my grandparents were sea going people also. They traveled many miles across the Atlantic on a big ship (ok..perhaps it wasn’t their own ship…it was more like a one way voyage that they had to share with hundreds of other Poor Italians immigrating to the United States in search of a better life)
At some point, the boat ownership at this level becomes a type of competition. A high stakes game of keeping up with the Jones’s. My boat costs more than your boat, my boat is newer, and my dingy is bigger than your dingy. (and I mean that it the nicest possible way) There also seems to be a contest as to who can have the cutest or fanciest boat name. Most sport a name that is a clever play on words like: Reel Time, “C” Dweller, Pier Pressure, Salesmen Ship, or Seas the Day (I must be lucky because my boat came with a name already lettered on the back..it just says “Boston Whaler”).
These boat owners also feel compelled to equip their boats with all the latest and greatest amenities. I mean any self respecting yacht owner would not be caught dead with little creature comfort options like: radar, satellite TV., swimming pools, outriggers, 24 year old girlfriends, hot spas, sun decks, barbeque grills, generators, elevators, GPS, and fish finders.
As the owners up the ante with bigger and more expensive toys, the purchase price and operating costs go thru the roof. Once you go over 45 foot or so it gets difficult to take the boat out by yourself. As the marine real estate passes the 65 foot mark, you must begin penciling in wages for a deck hand and crew. These guys can really run up the payroll and will sit around in shorts and boat shoes, and wax the boat every day until you are ready to take a little cruise. (talk about a great job).
At 75 to 100 foot you are playing with the big boys and probably need a captain and a few more deck hands. Now you will find yourself needing extra state rooms just for the crew. Hey, and with all those extra mouths to feed you had better hire an executive chef. When you break the 100 to 200 foot mark you then join an exclusive club as the owner of a “super yacht”. These giants belong to the elite “super rich”. You have to wonder what their house looks like if they own a 60 million dollar super yacht. Don’t get me wrong, I like boating as much as the next guy, it just that I don’t see the need to dock the Queen Mary in my yard. If I wanted to see exotic places and travel around the world on a boat that big, it would be cheaper for me to just join the Navy.(at least I’d been done paying in a few years)
To tell you the truth when I pass by, it doesn’t look to me like most of these boats have even left the dock in a while. To be honest with you it’s kind of a hassle just to take one out for a spin. I see the same boats in the same places all the time. I mean what’s the sense of having an expensive toy like this if you don’t use it. I just don’t see the logic in spending millions of dollars on a yacht capable of going around the world and then just using it as a floating spare office or bedroom 50 feet behind your house.
The worst part is that south Florida is very susceptible to hurricanes. During hurricane season everyone keeps a close eye on the weather reports and boat owners have to make sure their marine insurance is paid up and be ready to sail to safer waters if a hurricane threatens. But even living in paradise has its price to pay.
To be honest, I’m kind of saving up for a super yacht myself, but I’m still a little short on cash.( ok.. a lot of short on cash) If I could just ask each of you to buy one copy of my new book: “Life as seen thru the eyes of a Poor Italian Boy” (at $19.95 plus shipping and handling) I could rush out and buy my dream boat(after I finish paying restitution) and after I sell the first half a million copies. (now that’s not too much to ask, is it). Then I too could wear stylish yachting clothes, ( I might even try one of the Hugh Hefner style smoking jackets in the evenings), name drop, have outrageous parties, talk incessantly about all the money I have, and maybe wear one of those little captain’s hats. (perhaps even tell my friends to call me captain) If you don’t want the book,(or already own a few copies) I will gladly accept cash donations, inheritances, gratuities, lavish gifts, home cooked meals, and even well meant I.O.U.’s (with a qualified co-signer and 10% down)
Overall, I think I could easily get used to being a mega yacht kind of guy, but until I win the lottery…I’m gonn’a just shut up and keep rowing.
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

UNSUNG HERO

2009-08-01T16:06:00.000-07:00

UNSUNG HEROES

We were just kids when we got married. I had just turned eighteen and Wendell was only a year older. He was just out of high school and although he was captain of the football team, he didn’t have the skills he needed to get a good job. After bouncing around from one lousy job to the other, he went down and talked to the navy recruiter.

That night he told me that he had made the decision to enlist. The navy offered great training and even a paid college tuition down the line. I was so proud of him but I guess we never thought thru what that decision would mean to our marriage and family life.

Originally we had planned to wait another year or so, but while he was still in basic training, the war broke out. It soon became clear that all the guys would be shipping out as soon as they finished their training.

Wendell somehow managed to get a weekend off after boot camp and before they were due to ship out, and we decided on the spot to get married. I guess it was a rather impulsive act, but I had just recently discovered that I was pregnant and I wanted our baby to have a real dad. Besides, we loved each other and I thought it was the right thing to do.

To be honest, I never thought he would have to ship off so soon. In retrospect I really hadn’t thought thru all the implications of being a navy wife. Anyway, I’ll never forget going down to the dock that day to see him off. It was overcast and gloomy, which kind of matched my mood for the day. The dock was draped in American flags and the music played as the men waited to board the ship. There were T.V. cameras and reporters covering the event because the men had been assigned to a brand new ship. This was their first mission together and the captain addressed the crowd from under a small white tent. He told us that he planned to take the ship into harms way, but that he wanted us to know that, both he, the men, and the ship were more than up to the task. It was a good send off and there were hundreds of family members, mothers, fathers, and children, and we all stood there in a light rain as our loved ones boarded the ship.

I don’t think it really hit me until the boat started pulling away that I was going to be alone. I wasn’t even sure when I would see him again. I can remember standing there as the ship sailed out of the harbor. Most of the crowd had already disbursed as the rain began coming down quite hard. I stood there in a daze wiping a mixture of rain and tears from my eyes, until the ship was just a small dot on the horizon. For some reason I wanted to hold onto that sight, because I felt that maybe he was still looking back at me. I guess a lot of the family members had been thru this experience before, but for me it was the first time and it was a heart wrenching experience.

That night the loneliness set in and it seemed almost unbearable. Gone were the music, the cameras, flags, and fanfare. This was to be the life of a women married to a U.S. servicemen that they don’t show in the recruiting commercials. Today I have joined this unwilling fraternity, the uncertain and lonely life shared by women for as long as their men have been going off to sea. Somehow it seemed even worse for me. Here I was a young women and pregnant for the first time. I laid there and held my hand on my stomach. I think I felt the baby move for the first time, but I wasn’t sure. I remember crying until I fell asleep. This was supposed to be a moment that we both shared.

Over the next few months, I tried to stay busy and make the best of things. My mother drove down form New York to spend a week with me, which really helped but there was no way to fill the hole in my life. Not a day went by when I didn’t feel the emptiness, the loneliness, and the despair. Its hard to explain how powerless you feel when you can’t just pick up a phone or drive across town to just talk to someone you love. I tried hanging out with some of the other Navy wives in the community and we all tried to console each other. We all banned together like an extended family to help comfort each other, but none of us can take the hurt away. None of us can take the place of the special person in our lives that is thousands of miles away. The women who have been thru it before seemed to have a little different outlook, but we all shared the same loneliness and emptiness. I think the career Navy women, tend to portray themselves as more stoic but I think in reality, they just are more experienced at hiding their true feelings.

Our baby was born on November 15th, but the happy moment was tempered by the fact that her daddy was fighting halfway around the world. I know he would have given anything to be with me on that day, but it’s just one more sacrifice our little family would have to make to help keep America strong. That night my mom sent Wendell an e-mail with a few digital photos of our little girl and I latter found out from his buddies that our big tough sailor held that picture close to his heart and cried like a baby.

I had been counting down the days and fully expected Wendell to complete his deployment and be home by December 7th, in plenty of time to enjoy Christmas with us, but that’s not how the Navy works. They needed his ships capabilities and firepower and they were ordered to extend their deployment. In any case Christmas and the New Year both went by and we both had to settle for e-mails and cards instead of time together.

Finally in mid January we got word that the ship was on its way back to port. The whole naval community was excited and we planned a tremendous celebration at the dock when she came back to port. The next evening I got an unexpected visit from my girlfriend Kathy and a few of the other wives. I figured they stopped by to discuss the details of the reunion party but the look on their faces told me otherwise.

After an awkward and painful moment of silence, during which I almost tried to read their minds Kathy told me that there was a training accident. I knew the hostilities were over, but didn’t know the crews still engaged in daily training even on the way back to port. They told me that Wendell was killed along with his best friend Buck.

I stood there for a moment in disbelief. I thought, It couldn’t be so. The ship had left the war zone with no causalities and was steaming home. Wendell had done his time, we had waited patiently, he promised he’d be home soon, everything was already planned to meet him at the dock. It just couldn’t be, and yet it was.

I collapsed to the ground, crying and almost in a fetal position as the other women tried to comfort me. I could hear the baby crying from the other room, but didn’t have the strength to get up. The girls stayed with me thru the night, but they all went home in the morning. I just sat there in the house for the rest of the day, in a state of shock. The Navy sent by a counselor to try and help me with my grief, but no one can take away the sting of death that you feel when you lose a loved one.

Less than a week latter, I made myself meet the ship at the dock. Its Navy tradition that new fathers who had a child born while they were at sea, get off the ship first. This time Wendell was the first one off, except he made the trip in a box. The commanding officer handed me a flag from off the ship along with some words about a grateful nation and then we made our way out of the port in a short procession. I could hear the sounds of joyous re-unions from the crowd outside, but there would be no joy for me, now or for many years to come. I had lost my first love and had only a flag and a picture of him to comfort me.

I only hope that our people, our country, and our leaders realize that the sacrifices our servicemen and women make to serve their country is deeply felt and echoed by their family and loved ones that are left behind. Especially those that share in the ultimate sacrifice of losing a loved one while in the service of his or her country.

In my mind these women who bravely support, quietly wait, and often suffer, yet somehow miraculously endure, are the true American Unsung Heroes.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

PERFECT STRANGERS

2009-07-30T16:14:00.000-07:00

PERFECT STRANGERS

I guess I never really thought about it before, but each and every day we encounter hundreds if not thousands of strangers. It’s funny how each of us can walk by so many other kindred souls each day without noticing, without acknowledging, and sometimes not even being aware of those around us.

Here we are in the midst of a virtual sea of humanity. Crowds of people just like us. Mothers, fathers, teachers, and friends. Most times they are just a blur in our much too busy lives, like quite music being played in the background. For the most part they will forever be a group of nameless and faceless fellow beings. Each one a potential future teacher, business associate, spouse, or friend. All so different, yet so very much the same. Only chance and circumstance can transform what may be a perfect stranger today into an important friend or loved one tomorrow.

This random choice, a one in a million ‘happenstance”, this spin of the human wheel of chance was about to change my life forever. Unbeknownst to me, fate had chosen to intervene on that bright summer day. Weather you choose to call it luck, or fate, or coincidence, some force had brought us together at that time and place. Ironically, the suddenness with which it started is sadly how it ended, all too soon. This is our story.

Considering everything I’ve been thru lately I decided to take a short vacation in Las Vegas. I was anxious to get out and see the sights so I left the hotel right after breakfast and headed south on the Strip. Vegas plays host to millions of visitors each year and most of them travel the strip by walking or by taxi. Even though it was only 9:30 a.m. it appeared that everyone else had pretty much the same idea. The weather forecast had predicted that today’s temperature would reach 108, and I was certain that it was at least 90 out already.

The sidewalk was already crowed in both directions with people busily going about their day. I had to slow my normally brisk pace due to the crowd and the fact that many of the tourist had stopped to take pictures. I could feel the heat radiating off the road and sidewalk as the desert sun climbed in the morning sky. I’ve heard people say that it’s a dry heat, but I can tell you that once you go over 90 degrees, hot is hot.

As I walked past the beautiful Bellagio hotel hundreds of people were gathered around as music began playing and we were all treated to a wonderful show with water jets pulsating to the music and dancing around the pond carefully choreographed to the music. After the short show, I continued on my walk as the temperature continued to climb.

Just as I passed the Bellagio hotel, the sidewalk took a slight detour and I found myself walking in a sheltered walkway between two rows of heavy concrete road barriers. The unmistakable sounds of heavy construction emanated from the right side of the plywood dividing wall, and the busy traffic of the Las Vegas Strip just to the left. From what I was told a major construction project was underway on this site know as the City Center. The locals told me it was an ambitious (perhaps over ambitious. to the tune of almost 10 billion dollars) partnership between MGM and a heavy dose of foreign investment from Dubai. At this point I felt the heat from the concrete around me and a damp odor where some hoses ran under the plywood wall. The narrow walkway was like a human funnel, forcing all the walkers into a space around 3 foot wide. The pedestrian walkway was filled with people walking in both directions as traffic thundered by only inches to my left and just on the other side of the concrete barrier.

Just ahead of me the barriers stopped and a worker complete with a hard hat and safety vest was directing traffic. He had a small stop and go sign mounted on a pole and had it turned to indicate that the pedestrian traffic should stop at that point. Well those of us toward the front, got the message and decided to stop, however I guess those folks a few yards back failed to see the logic in stopping at such a hot and undesirable spot.

In any case, we stood there in the sweltering heat, waiting for the cement trucks and heavy equipment to dart past the small opening in the pedestrian walkway. It soon became evident to those of us in the front of the line that the throngs of people behind had not seen the point in all this standing and waiting and decided to push forward like a large human wave. Of course, they had no way of knowing that just beyond the opening and the guy with the little pole sign, was a 30’ stretch of treacherous road that was currently packed solid with heavy trucks and equipment that were rushing into and out of the job site while pedestrian sidewalk was closed off.

It only took a few seconds before the weight of hundreds of people pushed forward on the few of us that were closest to the construction entrance and despite our best efforts we were slowly pushed into the intersection. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the guy with the sign grimacing in apparent pain. His eyes wide open and face contorted in painful anticipation. I was later to find out that he was fine but that his extreme facial distortion was caused by the fact that he was the first to see the large crane rounding the corner and quickly heading towards the unlucky few of us that were forced into the roadway.

The women just ahead of me with the sunglasses and red shorts was suddenly push forward into the intersection. Fortunately she dodged her way between vehicles and made it to the other side. The guy right behind her was not so lucky. He made it about halfway thru and then was spun around when the mirror on a passing truck slapped him in the shoulder. His rather abrupt change of direction along with the impact of the mirror and the wet dirt road all contributed to him landing flat on his back in the middle of the roadway.

Somehow the message got back to the people pushing from the rear, that they were causing great bodily harm to those of us in the front of the line, but not before I was thrust out into the roadway myself. I was yelling and had my hands up over my head waiving off the oncoming driver of a large forklift. The driver got the message, but I guess that these large construction forklifts were not designed to stop on a dime. I quickly jumped up and landed right on the extended forks with one foot on each fork. For an instant I locked eyes with the operator and it didn’t take mental telepathy for him to know that I meant stop.

I quickly turned around, still balancing on the forks and extended my hand to the poor guy that was now sitting up on the ground. I spun his body partially so that it aligned right between the huge steel forks that would have surely ran him thru if he had not been moved. In a cloud of dust and confusion the forklift screeched to a halt only inches from the injured man. It seemed like the whole episode ran thru in slow motion and then there was silence for a second or two, immediately followed by the applause and whistles from the onlookers. I had to remind myself to take a breath after that nail bitter.

I’m not really sure how many people probably called 911 at that point, but I can tell you that an ambulance arrived in a matter of minutes, followed by several policemen on bicycles. (perhaps they had one stationed on the dangerous job site as a precaution). The paramedics quickly got out and accessed the situation, as the officers began questioning witnesses as to what happened.

Although it appeared that no one was severely injured, several people suffered some minor bumps and bruises. The guy that I had helped was still lying on the ground in the loose gravel. He was thanking me over and over, but was insisting he was fine. He was being attended to by one of the paramedics and the women in the red shorts.

After inspecting his wounds and taking a few vital signs it was determined that he should be taken in for a few x- rays. It quickly became apparent that the mystery women in the red shorts that was helping him was in some way related to him. As they were attempting to load him into the ambulance she immediately made it clear that she was going with him. At this point he was still thanking me profusely and had a tight grip on my hand.

Although I never met this guy before, we now had a strange kind of bond between us. He asked me if I would please come with them to the hospital. I felt very awkward and was searching for the right words to tell him no, when one of the paramedics said in a very authoritative tone…“get in, we need to roll”. Almost be impulse, I followed her command and the next thing you know we were on our way to the hospital in a very cramped ambulance.

Well, it turned out not to be a very long ride because the ambulance left the job site and made a quick turn down Harmon street to a rather large Urgent Care facility just down the road from the City Center. On the way over, my new friend thanked me again for saving his life and told me his name was Larry. Almost as an awkward after thought, he introduced me to his very attractive sister Lisa.

When we got to the urgent care facility the paramedics brought Larry around to the back entrance on the stretcher. We were instructed to go up front and wait in the waiting room. For some strange reason I felt obligated to stay and make sure that Larry was O.K. Of the course of the next hour and half, Lisa and I got the chance to talk and get to know each other.

It turns out that they are both from Florida and live just across the state from me in Fort Lauderdale. It seems Larry owns several car dealerships over there and Lisa is a lawyer with the District Attorney’s office. The two of sat there and talked for a good hour and a half, without realizing how much time went by.

It was only when Larry walked or should I say limped out the office door before we were jolted back to the here and now. Pleasantly I had just spent some of my vacation time in Vegas at a walk in clinic with two perfect strangers and was quite happy about the experience.

Larry thanked me a gain in the lobby but said he was rather tired and thought it best that they head back to their hotel so that he could rest. Just before he got in his cab he asked if I would be available to meet the two of them for dinner at their hotel and I agreed. “Ok..we will see you at the Mirage at 8 pm, meet us at the Stack steakhouse”. With that they pulled away in their cab, and I decided to head back to relax with a good stiff drink at my hotel pool.

After a swim, a few drinks, and a couple of hands of poker, I grabbed a cab and pulled up to the Mirage around 15 minutes early. I had never been to the Mirage before and marveled at the lush entrance complete with foliage and artificial ponds. The place was busy, very busy, and there was a good energy emitting from the crowd. Every one seemed to be having fun and enjoying themselves. I made my way over to the steakhouse and looked around for Larry and Lisa. Realizing that I was a bit early I told the hostess that I would wait for my party at the bar. Well, I have to tell you, I’ve been to a lot of great steakhouses in my day, but this place definitely broke the mold. Instead of a dark room with a subdued atmosphere and a heavy wooden look, this place was very contemporary, fashionable, and upbeat.

After my second drink, I began to think that my guests were not going to show up. Just as I turned to see if anyone was waiting at the hostess desk, I felt a light touch on my right shoulder. For a second I thought I was dreaming, it was Lisa. I almost didn’t recognize her and was taken back to see her in a long black dress complimented with a red glossy belt and offset by a double pearl necklace.

She apologized that her brother could not make it because he felt sore all over and could hardly walk. As much as I was looking forward to seeing him again, I had to admit this wasn’t a bad rain check. We had a great dinner and a few drinks to cap off a night that ended all too early. Lisa’s office had left her a message earlier in the day, that the big case she had been working on got pushed forward and she had to catch an early flight out of McCarran in the morning.

We promised to keep in touch when we got home, but the magic of the moment somehow seemed to wear off when we all got home. I guess in retrospect we were just a few strangers that have somehow touched each others lives. Perhaps it was chance or perhaps it was destiny, but we would never have even met if it wasn’t for that brief encounter with death. That chance meeting where fate and circumstance were the glue and chemistry that brought a few perfect strangers together in that brief instant in time. They say life’s randomness is what makes it interesting.

I guess what they say is true. What happens in Vegas….Stays in Vegas

Please feel free to contact me at; pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

GOOD GUYS FINISH LAST

2009-07-25T19:52:00.001-07:00

GOOD GUYS FINISH LAST

To tell you the truth, I think I was in a state of shock. It almost seemed surreal as 2 police cars and an ambulance came screeching to a stop right in front of my house. For a moment it almost seemed as if everything was happening in slow motion.

I just stood there like a deer in the headlights. My eyes fixated on the flashing lights on top of the patrol cars, it was almost hypnotic. Fortunately I came out of it just in time to see that the lead two officers had drawn their guns and were screaming commands at me. I looked down and realized that I still had my gun in my right hand. My 1911 .45 caliber pistol was still hot and the slide was locked back, indicating that I had somehow emptied all 7 rounds. The whole thing seemed like a dream.

Still standing there wide eyed and astonished at the recent turn of events, I complied with their command and set my gun down on the hood of my car and then went to my knees. I started to explain what happened but my voice was drowned out by the siren and the officers repeated orders for me to lie down, face down with my hands to my sides.

The minute I complied with their wishes, the bigger guy grabbed me by the left wrist and pulled it behind my back, while snapping a handcuff on me. In one fluid motion he quickly grabbed my other wrist and expertly preformed a similar maneuver. With a quick glance up I could see his partner covering me with his pistol while the other officers were shaking their heads after taking the pulse of the guy that lay bleeding by the curb. Needless to say after eating a whole clip of 45’s there was no pulse to be found.

Things were looking pretty bad for me about now, but to put things in perspective, I really should start at the beginning. I really am a good guy, a law abiding citizen, in fact I can’t even remember getting a traffic ticket since I was a teenager.

It all started fairly innocently a few days ago, when I had taken my girlfriend out to dinner. We had an enjoyable and uneventful dinner and were standing in line at the club next door for a few drinks when all of my problems started. I was minding my own business while digging thru my wallet looking for a twenty dollar bill to pay the cover charge.

I hear a voice from behind us in line making a rude comment about my girlfriend. I turn around and look down the line in disgust to determine who made the comment, but everyone seems to be just talking among themselves.

A few minutes later we had worked our way forward in the line and could hear the loud music from inside. Suddenly, I feel a jolt from behind me as a rather large guy bumps me with his shoulder. I could tell by how hard he hit me and the fact that he didn’t turn to apologize that this was an intentional attack. Guys don’t need a body language expert to translate that statement.

Well, I’m as nice as the next guy, but it was evident that this was the same guy that made the rude comment and now he was physically harassing me. I thought about what had transpired for a second and contemplated letting it go unchallenged, but after all the guy was a jerk and I didn’t want to look like a weakling in front of my girl friend.

He hadn’t taken two steps past me as I in turn called him a few choice names of my own, and gave him the one finger salute. Well it was evident that this guy wasn’t one to let by gone’s be by gone’s and he immediately turned on his heels and shoved me backward with both hands. I could hear my girlfriend urge me to just walk away, but the fight was already on.

I had no formal fight training but everyone that knows me, knows I have a short fuse, and this son of gun had just lit it. Well, no sooner then I had I put my hands up in a defensive position, sasquatch throws a big haymaker right at my head. I partially blocked his punch but still managed to catch half of its force right above my ear.

At about that point my adrenaline kicked in and I answered with a 3 punch flurry, the viciousness of which seemed to surprise Mr. Tough Guy. At first he reeled back a few steps but then charged at me with his head down and tackled me to the pavement. By this time everyone in the line had formed a circle around us and a few of the bouncers from the club had managed to pull us apart. The head bouncer said he was going to call the police, so I took that as notice to get out of there and walk back to my car.

Just as we were about to get back into my car, a black S.U.V. pulled up and stopped right next to us. The tinted window rolled down and my assailant gave me a menacing look. I have to admit that I took a certain amount of joy in seeing a trickle of blood from the guy’s nose. He said something I couldn’t make out and then started laughing hysterically as he waived a black object at me. At first I thought it may have been a gun, but then it struck me that it was a wallet, my wallet. A quick but frantic pat on my back pocket confirmed that the bastard had indeed taken my wallet. Complete with cash, credit cards, and drivers license.

Well, as soon as I got home, and had a drink to calm my nerves, I decided to start contacting my credit card companies. I first checked my accounts on line and discovered that the jackass with my wallet was already out running up quite a bill on my credit cards. My girlfriend wisely urged me to call the police, but I didn’t want the hassle. I struggled to think about what else was in my wallet that was now in this guy’s possession. I was up half the night doing damage control before I finally fell asleep around 4 A.M. I was certain I would have to endure a case of identity theft, for the foreseeable future.

I slept in the next morning and woke up still feeling a little sore from last night’s workout. Coffee cup in hand I walked out into the driveway to get the morning paper, only to find my empty wallet, cut up and laying next to the newspaper. The only thing left in the wallet was a picture of my girlfriend and I, with my half of the picture cut out. In my mind, this guy was a sicko and was making this thing personal.

I could only assume that the mental midget I had the fight with, intentionally left my wallet there to send me the unmistakable message that he knew where I lived. I have to admit that it was an unsettling feeling knowing that some half baked criminal, that had a bone to pick with me, knew where my house was.

The next day and a half went without incident, but I was convinced that I hadn’t heard the last of this guy and had decided to carry my home protection gun, just in case. My girlfriend stopped by briefly on her way to work around 5pm to see how I was doing and drop off some dinner she had made for me.

After she left I decided to stay home and watch T.V. when I must have fell asleep on the couch around 11 o’clock. Around 2:30 in the morning I awoke to what sounded like someone trying to open my back door. (it’s funny how you can sleep with the television on but still hear a house sound that is out of the ordinary).

I was still groggy with sleep, but remembered that I hadn’t gone thru my usual routine of checking all the doors before dozing off for the night. My girlfriend doesn’t approve of guns so I had left mine in the nightstand next to my bed. I make a quick dash for the bedroom to retrieve it, and as I left my room I noticed a shadowy figure looking in the front window.

Outraged and with gun in hand, I threw open the front door only to see the same unmistakable black S.U.V. parked directly in front of my house. At this point I was both frightened and enraged. I must have surprised the intruder, as he then made a bee line for his car, shouting threats and obscenities the whole way. I raised my gun and leveled the front sight on his center mass, but then took my finger off the trigger and lowered it to the ground.

I couldn’t bring my self to shooting an unarmed guy running away (although the urge certainly crossed my mind). Just as the guy reached the front passenger door he turned and shouted that I had no guts. He reached inside his vehicle and spun back towards me. This time I was sure it wasn’t my wallet that he had in his hand and by instinct fired what I thought was one or two shots at him. I watched as his car window fractured, bullets ricocheted off his vehicle, and his body slowly slumped to the ground.

One of the neighbors must have called the cops, after hearing the commotion, because they were there in minutes. Now, I find myself being read my rights and then handcuffed and alone in the back seat of a police car. I have to admit I’m afraid. I don’t think I did anything wrong. There are a thousand thoughts rushing thru my mind as we pull away from my house. I’m an innocent victim, and I didn’t start this thing but now I’m facing possible jail time. I guess it goes to show you that some times, even the good guys finish last.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

SELF DEFENSE

2009-07-13T13:34:00.000-07:00

BRUTALITY- REAL VIOLENCE

“Real violence can be sudden, vicious and brutal. It can be random and senseless. True violence knows no etiquette, logic, boundaries, or rules. It cares not for fairness or consequence, it exists in the moment, as it vents it’s unrelenting rage upon those least prepared to defend against it.”

P.I.B.

It’s late at night as you walk back to you car. The joyous memories of the evening still fresh in your mind. Your footsteps echo in the dimly lit and mostly empty parking garage. You instinctively quicken your pace as you hear another set of footsteps rapidly closing the distance from behind you. Your heart and your mind both begin racing as you approach your car. Your anxiety subsides a little as you near the familiar safety of your car. Then, for an instant it occurs to you that someone has chosen to park extremely close to your driver’s door in an otherwise empty parking garage.

Keys in hand, you squeeze your way between the 2 vehicles only to find that there is not enough room to fully open the drivers door. Now you are sandwiched between the vehicles and are unable to move forward due to the partially open door. As you fumble for the emergency horn button on your remote key your knees buckle from the force of a blow to the base of your skull. In a frenzied moment of panic you turn towards your unknown attacker. Without feeling or compassion, he raises the tire iron he is wielding and takes another wild swing at you. In his fury and rage he misses and breaks the side window of the car. Injured and in a state of shock you attempt to push thru him, as your only means of escape is towards the rear of the car. Instinctively you put both arms out in front of you as you try to push your attacker away, but he again brings his weapon to bear quickly followed by a snapping sound from your arm.

Still pinned between the cars, you sink to one knee in a submissive posture hoping the assailant will stop the attack. For a brief moment you raise your head and look at the determined and grimaced face of this beast. For an instant you lock eyes with your assailant, looking for the slightest hint of compassion or humanity, but there is none to be seen, only evil. Instead the crazed attacker seems to feed on and be strengthened by your weakness, and begins kicking your now broken body unrelentlessly. Just before you lose consciousness you hear the sound of the tire iron hitting the ground as he grabs the keys from your hand and leaves you battered and soaked in your own blood.

This is a realistic portrait of a violent encounter, sudden, primal, merciless, and unrelenting. …Are you prepared, today..right now ?…Is your training in place? Are you willing to take action right now and invest less than one hundred dollars to help protect yourself and your family?

Just send me your name and e-mail address and I’ll send you my 6 free reports on self defense. Also, my self defense videos will be available soon

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

DO WE MAKE TOO MUCH ?

2009-07-08T18:46:00.000-07:00

DO WE MAKE TOO MUCH ??

I think it’s human nature to feel that we are underpaid for what we do. How many people do you see that ask to have their pay cut back a little. I don’t care if you make $8.00 an hour or 8 million a year, everyone thinks they are worth a little more. Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m a full blooded capitalist and I believe you should make as much as the market is willing to pay for your particular skill or service. Not only that, but we all tend to adjust our standard of living up to the level of our earnings. (Actually we all normally spend a little more than we earn, ok…a lot)

The basic premise of our economic system is that people are willing to pay more for what they need or want. That pent up Demand is matched against the available Supply in the market place and a market value is derived. (of course there are ways to screw around with that formula) More demand translates into more sales and more money that is available to pay the salaries and bonuses of those people and companies that can deliver the goods.

Even though I subscribe to the above method of determining value, I think it might need a little tweaking here and there. All in all, I’m sure glad I don’t have to explain the inner workings of the system to a group of students, as a teacher. For starters I would think that teachers would be one of the most valuable resources we have. After all we place the burden of educating our children and young adults firmly on the shoulders or the nation’s teachers, yet they seem to hover near the bottom of the pay scale.

Ok, lets set aside that tired old argument for a moment and get back to the whole, how much is a skill worth argument. A good example might be the salary of a baseball player. To be honest, I don’t even like baseball. It’s way too slow and boring for me. In any case, the star ball player makes millions of dollars a year even though most people never even go to a baseball game (or watch one on T.V. for that matter). I’m sure those guys practice a lot, but come on….its only a game. They make millions of dollars to go out and play a game. (the truth is they only play half a game, they are sitting around in a dug out chewing tobacco, the other half of the game.). Now let’s compare the ball player to your local policeman. He is out working long shifts, making split second decisions, saving lives, busting criminals, and putting his life on the line every day.( hear that guys..take it easy on me if I’m doing a few miles over the limit) Yet, our society has chosen to put a low salary value on the law enforcement officer. (makes ya kind of wonder, doesn’t it)

I think one of the biggest disparities in our pay scale is the amounts paid to T.V, movie, and Rock stars. In all fairness these guys turn out some very entertaining work, but should they really be making upwards of upwards of 100 times what my garbage guy makes? ( and getting all red M&M’s in their dressing room) I mean, I can miss a T.V. show here and there and even go a few months without going out to a movie, but if I miss the garbage truck after a few days, I’m really happy to see the boys in green. When Christmas rolls around you don’t see all of Sinefeld’s fans leaving him a few of those little liquor bottles out front of his house, now do you ?

I cringe when I hear about people who would advocate the redistribution of wealth, but I also ask myself how much is too much.(of course that depend on of its going in my pocket or not) I recently read on the internet that the network is offering Simon Cowell around 144 million to stay on board for one more year of American Idol. (aside from baseball, I think that show is the next biggest waste of air time) Despite what I said above about everyone deserving their own good fortune, I’m not sure how anyone can justify that kind of money to see Simon Cowell bad mouth hopeful singers in his T-shirt for another season. If Simon donated back a quarter to every fast food worker in America, he would instantly raise the standard of living nationwide (and I would probably pull away from the drive in window with the right order in my bag)

I think wealth is in the eye(or the wallet of the beholder) Most American’s have come to expect and demand a higher standard of living than they did in the past. In the old days if a guy had a house, a car, and a few bucks in the bank, he was a happy camper. Today, we all need a new car every few years, maybe a boat, and what’s wrong with a small R,V. or camper, I mean this is America. Forget that “chicken in every pot” deal, we need enough cash left at the end of the week to pay for cable and high speed internet or frequent our favorite restaurant. (or at least order take out.)

Things are different today. I guess all Americans need to realize that we are competing in a global economy now. That means we are competing for goods and services and even the cost of labor against every other country on the world. Thanks to technology and the internet, companies can now hire workers in far away places to do the jobs that Americans once filled. Call Dell computer support and you are quickly connected to some guy in Pakistan. That guy is working for $1.50 a day and he doesn’t have to have a new car, boat and R.V. in his driveway.

It used to be that those of us willing to stay in school and get a better education could demand higher wages in the marketplace. It was common place years ago to forgo 4 years of earnings to stay in college and then make that back 10 fold on graduating. I can remember my dad saying to me “stay in school because the way things are going you won’t be able to get a job driving a cab without a college degree”. I guess he was partially right because today, guys with M.B.A.’s are driving cabs in New York and Vegas.

Things are changing pretty rapidly right now and I’m not sure you need a crystal ball to figure out where the next millionaires will make their fortunes. If I had to take a guess I’d say that the biggest paying jobs in the next 10 years might be in a field of emerging technology that isn’t even on most people’s radar today.

I noticed on the internet that President Obama wants to create an office to oversee people’s salaries, a pay czar of sorts. If that’s true I certainly wouldn’t be a proponent of that level of control, however….if they were to give me the job I jack up the wages of all the hard working nurses, fireman, and cops right away. (maybe I’d trim a few bucks from Ophra or Geore Sourous.)

Maybe in the end, we put too much emphasis on wealth and pay in the country as a measure of success and a accomplishment…perhaps if we put more emphasis on a rewarding career, with an opportunity to make a difference and do good, we could attract the best people to that profession.. Come to think of it, we already do. After all we have some of America’s best and brightest serving for the least amount of pay in our all volunteer American Armed Forces. Thanks guys…

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

A LAWYER'S STORY

2009-07-03T07:42:00.000-07:00

A LAWYER’S STORY

For as far back as I can remember my parents always wanted me to become a lawyer. They were enamored by the education, prestige, and earning potential that a well schooled lawyer possessed.

I actually had hopes of making a career playing football, but like most young students I soon succumbed to the wishes of my parents. My plan had been to enjoy my college years and spend an absolute minimum time studying, and a maximum time partying and girl chasing, but soon found myself working in earnest towards my law degree.

I end up graduating with honors and surprised myself as much as my folks. After a short sabbatical I landed a job with a major law firm as a research assistant/ coffee boy. I found myself enjoying the pace, energy, and activity and came to both respect and admire the senior partners. To be truthful I was having a great time.

After passing the bar exam, I was given a small raise and noticed that I was afforded a slightly higher amount of respect around the office. I figured that I had made it, I was one of the good old boys. I later discovered you have to around a long time before you get a corner office and even longer to get your name on the door.

It wasn’t too long after that when I realized that this business was about hard work and long hours. I can tell you now that what may seem like a glamorous business to people on the outside is actually a tough and exacting business on the inside.

At the end of the day, lawyers get paid for results. We get paid well but if we don’t deliver the goods on time and consistently, our clients are quick to move on to greener pastures. Speaking from experience I can tell you that we do a lot of research and home work that never hits our clients billing statement.

I think our profession often gets viewed as a road paved with easy money. Most people just don’t see the small army of research assistants, paralegals, receptionists, secretaries, and office managers it takes to run a successful office.

Try working in an office with a dozen other type “A” personalities, that all want something done by yesterday. There is a good deal of behind the scenes pressure and time constraints that most clients and people outside the industry never see. Overall it’s a very rewarding job, but it sure isn’t an easy one.

Clients come to us for advice and legal assistance and their expectation is that we will always make the right call. I think a lot of clients expect us to give them an iron clad guarantee and there is no such thing. They trust that we will always win the case, or get the judgment in their favor. Unfortunately life, business, and the law are just not that predictable, although sometimes I wish they were. For me it’s always difficult to face a client after things in court didn’t go our way. My boss tried to ease my conscience one day after a particularly difficult decision. He pulled me aside one day and gave me some good advice. “ Some cases you will win and some you will lose. Ultimately their disposition is up to the judge and the triers of the facts. Its your job to present a well planned and researched case that aligns the facts and the law in a manner that best presents your clients case in the most favorable light.”

The truth is we are all human and come to work with the same baggage and concerns as other professions. Perhaps the kids kept us up late with a last minute school project, the new puppy kept us up all night, or maybe we are just plain tired from a 60+ hour work week. We can argue a case brilliantly in front of judge and jury, but may not be able to win a simple argument with our spouse or significant other.

At some point in our career we all tend to hit the wall. Maybe we worked too long of a stretch without a vacation or break, or maybe we just can’t find the joy in what we are doing anymore. In most cases we just push thru it and lawyer on, till retirement and that gold watch, but sometimes it occurs to us that its just time to move on.

For me, I got a job in talk radio. Now I get to make my arguments into a microphone everyday and get to go home after a 3 hour show. I feel like I am still making an impact on people’s lives but I don’t have to worry about the deadlines, juries, and office politics. Not only that, I get to show up to work in shorts and boat shoes everyday. Case closed.

Please feel free to contact me at : pooritalinboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

A STEP TOO FAR

2009-06-28T05:33:00.000-07:00

A STEP TOO FAR

It is said that power corrupts, but actually it's more true that power attracts the corruptible. The sane are usually attracted by other things than power.
David Brin

If there is one dynamic that sets this country apart from many of the others it is this: our government was created by the people to serve the people (not the other way around). The original leaders and framers of the constitution put in a series of safe guards, as well as certain checks and balances to insure that the government infrastructure would always be attendant to the will of the people.

Remember that most of the early settlers came here to escape religious and political repression. The last thing they wanted was an overly powerful central government. With this in mind the early patriots entrusted certain powers to the individual states, and only allowed the central government limited powers that were spelled out in detail. Under this system, all other powers were reverted to the state or individual.

Today we are witnessing unprecedented power being assumed by the Federal government and the executive branch. In my mind the government is leveraging the current economic and political unrest and fear to accumulate powers that it was never entitled to have. Greedy and power hungry politicians are passing legislation designed to increase their constituent’s dependency on them, thus perpetuating their power and positions. When all three branches of government are controlled by one party or interest group the danger of unchecked control is at its highest level.

I’ll tell you up front, that I have never been a political activist, but now its time to speak up or suffer the consequences. I for one do not like the direction that the country is heading, and I want my voice to be heard. The time for apathy is over, we need to speak out before we become slaves to our own government. Our inaction and apathy have caused us to relinquish our ideals.

I believe our country was built on the principles of freedom, personal choice, ownership of private property, and the individuals right to acquire wealth and dispose of it as he or she sees fit. Taxes and tariffs by the government are acceptable to pay for infrastructure and basic services, beyond that I don’t agree with using taxes as a means to redistribute wealth. Government does not create wealth, it only spends and redistributes wealth.

Why would we want to look to elected officials for our basic needs? In a word the government has been a terrible steward of existing national programs such as social security, Amtrak, Medicare, Farm subsidies, and others. I shudder to think of them with a controlling interest in Car makers, insurance companies, health care, and banks. I don’t want government putting salary caps on private citizens. Our dependence on the central government would rise to an all time high and their ability to control the citizens would be unprecedented.

Can you imagine a day where:

Government controlled Auto makers will only offer small, fuel efficient cars, that meet the standards of some government bureaucrat and not be driven by market demand or customer choice. By controlling production levels the boys in Washington could literally hinder your ability to travel.

Universal health care as administered by Uncle Sam, that would surely reduce the quality of our health care system to the level now “enjoyed” by England and Canada. Doctors and hospitals would be reduced to little more than government contract employees and some non health care professional would arbitrarily decide which operations and medicines we were entitled to and when. I can see a time where legislation (or punitive use taxes) could dictate the private citizen’s ability to smoke, drink, eat fattening food (or engage in other activities that the government deemed inappropriate). After all, an unhealthy lifestyle could place an unwelcome and cumbersome burden on the national free health care system. Once the single payer system is in place, we would almost have to leave the country to get elective health care. (Where are we to go…Canada ?)

Banks: Rather than let banks fail the government had stepped in and injected billions in bail out money, but with strings attached. The banks sucked up the bailout and Tarp money and just forgot to let it trickle down to millions of end users who were loosing their homes.

Social Security: The government has been fixing social security for 20 years now, and yet it is widely known that the entire program is in trouble and it is questionable if it will be sustainable for much longer, As far as I concerned they can keep my money and just stop collecting it from here on it. Another clear case of government ineptitude and meddling in people’s personal finances. It also highlights the central government’s inability to keep their hand out of the cookie jar. (or lock box..as Mr.Gore might say)

I guess, if I had to sum up my feelings on the matter, I want less government, not more. I want the freedom to succeed or fail on my own. I want to work hard and be able to enjoy the fruits of my labor. I don’t mind helping others, but I don’t want to be made to, by redistributing wealth. My goal would be to help the needy without dragging down, or presenting a disincentive for the self sufficient. The hair on the back of my neck stands up as legislation is being rushed thru in the middle of the night, often without review by the majority of our elected officials (not to mention the people)

We are now entering an era of unprecedented borrowing to pay for new programs, the burden of which will fall on the businesses and productive people in this country. At some point the debt will have to be re-paid. It’s easy to take stimulus checks and free programs but at what cost? As taxes are raised to an all time high, these people and business will loose the incentive to produce and melt back into the system, or move to another country to escape the financial oppression. I feel a difference of opinion is healthy, but that the country is now too divided.

Government and elected officials have their place, but left unchecked they tend to accumulate too much power. They adopt a mindset that they alone know what is good for the electorate, and set about to control the very lives of those that empowered them. History offers many examples of a government or leaders that were allowed to go unchecked. (in many cases they were granted, or assumed these extra powers to deal with a war or national emergency) Our freedoms and liberty took many years and many sacrifices to achieve, but they can be lost very quickly. I feel we are heading down that path right now, and must make a change before it goes…”A Step Too Far”.

Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power.
Abraham Lincoln

Please feel free to contact me at : pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

FAST FOOD BLUES

2009-06-27T07:11:00.000-07:00

FAST FOOD BLUES

I guess most Americans are usually in a hurry. Our fast paced lives don’t allow for a big sit down, break out the fine china, 3 course meal, except on weekends and holidays.(ok maybe on Thanksgiving) Come to think of it how many young families even have china, or china cabinets anymore. Paper plates and foam take out boxes seem to be more standard faire in most kitchens. Let’s face it, a good home cooked meal takes time and planning. Active families have to contend with work, sports, and mismatched schedules. We are a mobile society and a lot of our activities revolve around time in the family car.

So where do most of us turn to, when time and money is in short supply and hunger strikes…you guessed it,..the fast food restaurant. We can walk in or make a pit stop at the drive thru and get a quick meal in a matter of minutes. Burgers, fries, chicken, subs, or Tacos are available 24 hours a day. Is the taste as good as a nice home cooked meal ? No….but heck, at least it’s cheap and fast. We can have what we want, when we want it, by just taking a short drive.

When I was a kid, the evening meal was a place for the family to get together and discuss the events of the day. It was a place for the family to gather together after a hectic day and spend some quality time together. It was a private time for just the family, no television, no phone calls, no distractions, and a hearty meal prepared with love by my Mom. Today, our values have changed and its all about speed, convenience, and supersizing a #3 meal. We are just a likely to eat in the car as around the family table.

We are conditioned to getting our meals on the run. I have to admit; the fast food guru’s do a great job in their marketing. They flood us with television, radio, billboards, and print ads. Their highly recognizable signs and logos beacon to motorist from California to Florida. Each concept has opened thousands of stores nationwide and worldwide. One can hardly drive a few miles in any direction without passing a fast food outlet of one type or another. Their distinctive signs and recognizable store fronts are a constant reminder to hungry drivers. (and those in need of restrooms)

So, weather you are in the mood for a burger, a shake, or even some fries, there is a good chance you will soon find yourself at your favorite fast food restaurant. We are all so conditioned to eating fast food that the very thought of a piece of fried chicken, burger, or taco, brings to mind one of these national chain restaurants.

The funny thing is that most of us realize the food we purchase is likely to be very fattening and high in calories, yet we still find ourselves strangely drawn to that drive in window. I’m particularly impressed with how the kitchen magicians at these places can continually re-market the same basic ingredients under new and catchy names.

They continually conjure up new and exotic monikers for their burgers and then sit back and watch sales increase, as their hungry clientele rush in to sample the new offering. The marketing team, takes carefully orchestrated pictures of each menu item for display in the restaurant. The high gloss pictures depict a tasty and visually appearing rendition of the food, that is seldom ever captured on the actual production line. I’ve often sat there looking at the food I was served then back up at the picture again, and wondering if I was in fact served the same item.

Also, they have us conditioned to ordering our meals while hanging out the window of our cars and yelling into a small box. Then it’s “by the numbers”.(Give me a number five with a supersized coke and fries). We then drive back home with the smell of hot burgers wafting thru our car and while nibbling on some French fries, only to find out when we get home that they shorted us a double burger.

One of the keys to prospering in the business is to design menu items that can be assembled quickly and with a minimum of culinary skill. Almost everything is pre-packaged, pre-cut, and pre-measured. This system ensures a consistent product that can be served up in a matter of minutes, with a minimum of human intervention and waste. Some of the food is cooked to order, but much of it is prepared in batches and then kept in warmers or tossed in the microwave for a quick “heat-up”.

There is a new trend in the restaurants towards healthier food offerings. Most franchise now sprinkle in a few salads and low calorie alternatives, but lets not kid ourselves, the reason we go to the these places in the first place is for that good old fashioned fried and fattening food. Let’s face it, there is nothing like a greasy double cheeseburger and some fries to help clog those arteries. The nutritional value of these quick meals may also be in question and could possibly be leading to a more obese America.

The funny thing is that most people will readily acknowledge that the food is not very healthy nor is it particularly well prepared, however it is definitely a part of the American diet. Even though many of us will complain about the food and the service, we find ourselves going back often. I’ve also noticed that despite the less than perfect level of quality, we all tend to seek out the very same familiar named restaurants when we travel across the country and even on international trips. Good or bad, for the most part they offer a consistent product in all the restaurants in a chain.

Let’s face it, not everyone has the time or desire to cook every meal at home. I think most of us frequent these fast food places more often than we would like to admit. The fast food restaurant is here to stay. They are big business with billions and billions served, and have become part of the American lexicon and the American diet. Next to Disney, tourists from foreign countries always make plans to stop at one our fast food restaurants. So, say goodbye to tradition and home cooked traditional meals and please pull forward to window #2. It’s the Fast Food Blues.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

MILLIONAIRE

2009-06-21T11:48:00.000-07:00

THE MILLIONAIRE

When I was a kid there was a Television show called “The Millionaire”. The premise of the show was that a very wealthy benefactor would give away a million dollars to a perfect stranger with the provision that the recipient never divulged the source of the money.

Although I’m not in a position to give perfect strangers such a large sum of money, I thought it would be cool if I could do the same sort of thing, just on a smaller basis. (Ok… A much smaller basis) I figured I might as well get a jump on this whole “Redistribution of Wealth” concept that the government seems so bent on. (don’t that call that Socialism ?).

Well, in keeping with the whole “take from the rich and give to the poor concept”, I formulated a plan of action. I mean, why wait until the government taxes me; puts a cap on my wages, or just plain confiscates my savings (now that they own the banks and all). I might as well get some joy and personal satisfaction out of giving away my own hard earned money.

It turns out, I had to scale down the whole program to a certain degree. In the original show, the rich guy hired representatives to do his good bidding for him. Since I found myself on a much tighter budget, I decided to do the actual awarding of funds on my own.

Well, it seems people are not quite as trusting as they once were. In fact, the first few people I tried to befriend, with cash in hand, slowly backed away from me while threatening to call the cops. After that experience I decided to take things a little slower and offer a little more in the way of explanation before I got to the “show me the money” part of the script.

Well it turns out this whole, let me help my neighbor succeed concept, is not as easy as one might assume. Over the course of the next few attempts I was threatened, robbed, beaten, and reported to the local authorities as some kind of nut case. Maybe this is why the original Mark Antony guy used proxies in neat black suits (they must have been more socially believable than me in my jeans and wife beater T-shirt.)

Not to be a quitter, I decided that I had better refine my approach, and perhaps do a little more research on my selected recipients before waltzing in with the cashola. Perhaps some of the people I selected, just didn’t need the money, were too proud, or maybe they just didn’t believe in charity. After careful study I decided to select a guy that seemed rather down on his luck, that I ascertained by virtue of the “will work for food” sign he was holding at the side of the highway.

I approached the fella with outstretched arms and told him that good fortune was smiling down on him today. I thought I would be brief and get the business disclaimer part of my offer out of the way, and began explaining the part about how he could never disclose the source of his good fortune only to find him fast asleep before he could acknowledge his part of the deal. In disgust, I left him 20 dollars in his make shift collection plate and moved on with a renewed sense of purpose. (I had determined that I would not be denied my ‘warm and fuzzy feeling” of giving away my money)

Tired but undaunted I spent the next day devising a sure fire plan to give away some money to those in need, thereby fulfilling my social, patriotic, and philanthropic instincts. A quick trip to the bank in the morning served the purpose of turning in all my cash and withdrawing the same amount of funds in a great number of certified bank checks.

I now set about my day randomly selecting worthy looking recipients and with very little fanfare I handed each of them one of the bank checks. I handed out checks to people in front of the hospital (my answer to Universal health care), I handed out checks to students gathered in front of the local college ( leave no student behind), and I handed out checks at the old folks home (my answer to social security) The plan worked perfectly because each one of them (both rich and poor) to a man simply looked down at the check then smiled as they put the check in their pocket, wallet, or purse.

With a great deal of satisfaction I finished the day after having exhausted my supply of checks and money. I was now broke and in fact quite destitute but rewarded by the fact that I had so diligently and completely accomplished my quest. I was feeling quite noble, but in a more pensive moment, I had cause to question my own actions. Did I actually help the economy, or did I just give money to strangers, that I may have personally spent to better purpose. (perhaps creating long lasting jobs)

You also might ask, how I so totally overcame the natural resistance of most Americans to put aside their pride and take handout money from a perfect stranger…..Actually it was quite simple. (I just borrowed a lesson from the Federal Government) I simply added one line of explanation to the bottom of each check…..

“Stimulus Check”

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

GET RICH QUICK

2009-06-14T17:14:00.000-07:00

GET RICH QUICK !
“Millionaire Businessmen and Investor wants to share his secrets of success”
I’ve always been enamored with the newest fads of “Get Rich Quick” schemes. Frankly I’ve had enough trouble using the “get rich very slowly and painfully” method. To me, its kind’a like a weight loss program, everyone wants the results, but we all want them right now, without putting in the effort and time. Sure, someone in the world has lost weight by just eating Subway sandwiches, but that doesn’t mean it will work for me.
In my experience, the only ones that get rich quick, are the fella’s selling the rest of us poor slobs the “secret programs, books, seminars, home based business programs, and C.D.’s”. I have to hand it to most of them, they are astute marketers. These guys know exactly what buttons to push in their advertising and info-mercials to get “Joe Average” to the point where he is willing to forgo a cold case of beer for their “secret advice”. They follow a time tested formula to reach and entice Mr. Average, who is sitting up channel surfing at 2:15 in the morning, to whip out his credit card and order.
The advertising, web sites, and promotional materials are usually well designed to get your attention, and entice you to act quickly. Most offer a minimum of facts and details until after you commit. The offer is also usually for a limited time, or only for limited number of lucky applicants. (Remember, these guys are often master marketers, snake oil salesmen, and pitchmen). In many cases you still have all your warning lights and buzzers going off, however its not hard to convince yourself that “its worth a try” (its almost like Las Vegas gambling ..you know you will probably loose, but the chance of winning draws you in like a moth to a flame).
The rich/ultra successful guy, television spots are replete with fancy cars, boats, beautiful people, and mansions. The underlying message is: Just send me your $99.95 and you will have all this great stuff also. They will interview a few alumni from their course that have made it big, as if to infer; if this guy can do it, so can you. (and you can accomplish this all in only 10 or 12 hours a week, working from home in your jammies).
These get rich quick guru’s seem to be predominant in real estate, stock, and direct marketing. (aka pyramid scheme). The truth is they have a very willing audience to pitch to. The average “ham and egger”, gets up early every day and puts in his average 40 to 50 hour work week and brings home a pay check every Friday. At the end of the month, when he is done paying bills, there never seems to be much left to save or spend freely. Everyone secretly desires to get off the subway and onto the “gravy train”.
Deep in every American’s heart, is the desire to strike off on his own, to be an entrepreneur, to shed the bonds of an hourly pay check, to achieve the American dream.(and to be honest with you, I think every one should at least take one turn at bat and swing for the fences).
Every one sends in their money or 3 equal payments of $119.95 and then waits anxiously by the mailbox for their package to come in. Meanwhile, our mindset is that we might as well turn in our two weeks notice at work because everyone on the commercial said they were able to leave their full time jobs with all the easy money that this new system would bring in.
We figure we can’t go wrong because there is a satisfaction guarantee. When it does arrive we can hardly wait to tear open the box and begin reviewing the C.D’s and printed material. Some of the material is instructional and some motivational. (like a placebo).
The truth of the matter is that some of the people who try the program actually do succeed to one level or another. Unfortunately the “Top Earners” are usually the first ones that get in, or those that have the largest down line organization. (friends and acquaintances)
The basic concept is that almost everyone can sell their family members, do a few presentations or house parties, and close a few friends, and then they quickly loose interest. In many cases each new “associate” makes a few sales but also had to purchase a small level of stock inventory that usually ends up in the garage covered with cob webs. With each new associate that churns thru the revolving door, the parent company makes money.
In closing, I would say that it’s almost always worth being curious and taking time to investigating a new opportunity. I would recommend that you thoroughly do your research and ask for references of people who have succeeded in the organization. (not just the few trophy examples on the web site) Bottom line is that there are some great new opportunities out there that can generate significant wealth, but there are also a lot of scams. So, I wouldn’t rush to quit your day job until you are convinced that you have a viable and long term business opportunity in place first.
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

WAR

2009-05-30T05:12:00.000-07:00

WAR

It is well that war is so terrible - otherwise we would grow too fond of it.
Robert E. Lee, Statement at the Battle of Fredericksburg (13th December 1862)US-Confederate general (1807 - 1870)

I am always patiently waiting, waiting for my time to rear my ugly soul

Like a seed that lays dormant in the soil, waiting for that single drop of moisture or sunshine to spring to life.

I lie still in every man’s heart and mind, like a dreaded and repressed truth that no man wishes to speak.

I wait because I know my time will come, thru all the ages, it always does.

Knowing that once my power is unleashed, man’s hate and fury will carry me forth

Since the birth of time, I have taken my toll. Many a brave mother’s son has fallen to my call.

I side with no man or army, let them pray to their Gods for that. I seek only the battle.

I will cloud men’s thoughts and turn their compassion and reason into rage

Like a fire burning thru a dry forest, I will consume all that is before me.

Only when all the hate is vanquished will I release my hold, and even then with great reluctance

Then, grudgingly, I will retreat again into the deepest chasms of a man’s heart and soul

They will bury me deeply after all the horror and death, and say “Never Again”, but I know better.

So then, I lay again in wait. Waiting to be re-lived like a horrible dream. To be sure, my time will come again.

Please feel free to contact me at : pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

THE CRADEL OF CIVILIZATION

2009-05-28T07:26:00.000-07:00

THE CRADLE OF CIVILIZATION

Of course, no one knows for sure but it is widely believed that life on earth got its fragile start some where in the middle east. That area has always had a tumultuous history since then. War and threats of war have been common place. The map has been drawn and redrawn many times over the centuries as well as the peoples that have lived and ruled there.

According to the Bible somewhere in that particular piece of dirt (or in this case sand) is where the final battle or Armageddon will take place. Now it really doesn’t matter to me if you believe in the Bible or Not (I happen to subscribe to its account of the ending days). The fact of the matter is that this region is a hot bed of violent activity, hatred, and long (and I mean long) standing feuds. Even the most casual observer recognizes this part of the globe as being extremely volatile.

The entire region has polarized itself against Israel, against each other, and against varying religious and political sects. The political landscape has long been littered with egotistical and fanatical leaders. The hatred that permeates the populace is strong and deeply imbedded into the culture of the people. It is some ubiquitous it is almost hereditary. Fathers hands down the venom to sons and the dogma is almost half the curriculum of the schools and madras’s.

The United States has attempted to intervene in the area and while our actions have done some good, the interventions have not endeared us to the people there; in fact many learned to hate “the Great Satin”. We currently have a large military presence in the area with no plans to exit the theatre at this time (despite the political promises of our leaders). Rest assured we have many new battles we will fight in those deserts.

Of course I would hope and pray for a political or diplomatic solution to the unrest in that part of the world, but in truth I don’t believe that will be our destiny. I’m not a war hawk, just a realist, and we can not reverse what has been set into action so many thousands of years ago.

Trouble is brewing, with much of it centered around the hatred of the Jews. Again, this is more than a passing conflict; this is a cultural divide between two peoples. Israel has used some restraint but the tome will come where she must defend herself with all its might and fury. I believe that time is eminent.

Once a full scale war is engaged in by Israel, the area will be further polarized with leaders and nations forced to take sides. Some of the alliances may be temporary and quite strained but governments will gravitate towards religious and cultural bonds. Of course the U.S. would have to side with Israel as one of our true friends and democracies in the region.

Watching from afar one can see the entire region inching towards one painful yet inevitable conclusion. The dynamics of the region coupled with the religious and political aspirations of the leaders make the march to violence hard to defuse.

I see ongoing issues in Syria, Afghanistan, Pakistan, (and all the other little stans) Iraq, Israel, the West Bank, India, and Africa (not to mention Korea), and maybe most importantly a nuclear Iran. Sure we can act as a buffer and agent of peace, but there are also a thousand political landmines between us and our objective, waiting to draw us in deeper into each of the conflicts.

Although each of these countries and regions is autonomous and has there own agenda and set of priorities, I maintain that they are all inextricably tied together in the security of the region. Each country is like so much dry kindling, that if ignited by the smallest spark, can throw the whole region into flames. Adjoining countries like Turkey, Egypt, Jordan, and Lebanon would be quick to choose sides, and possibly along ancient allegiances.

I the short term I’m concerned about Israel attacking the nuclear facilities in Iran, (which I believe is a matter of national security for them and unavoidable and Iran counterattacking the Israelis’. Every one knows the stakes have been raised now that all the boys have joined the exclusive “we’ve got the bomb” club. I also worry about the threat posed by the rouges that could soon take over Pakistan’s nuclear capabilities. (Along with that fragile government)

As for us, I think we need to realize that we can’t protect everyone and we can’t fight 3 separate wars at once (and hope to win any). Like the other players we better push for peace and choose our battles wisely. We can hope for the best, but we better plan for the worst.

In mind, it would be naive to think that any one of these conflicts, if allowed to fester wouldn’t have global implications. (and of biblical proportions) It’s a lot to plan for and worry about, but the issues that fuel the hatred and discontent in that part of the world will not go away by themselves. Could it be fate or mere coincidence, that the part of the world that was the cradle of civilization could also hold the seeds of our ultimate battle?

Also: see my previous article: “The War that no one wants”

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

GOVERNMENT CHEESE

2009-05-25T13:36:00.000-07:00

GOVERNMENT CHEESE
What If…………

What a great day. Today I have been granted an opportunity to submit my automotive ownership application. I have managed to save enough money for the application fee and have submitted all my paperwork in triplicate (as required by law). I think I did a good job laying out the evidence as to why I need a car. Don’t get me wrong, I’m feeling a little bit guilty. I totally agree with the concept of public transportation for all, its much better for the environment. But, as a member of the ruling party, I have earned some preferential treatment.

Now, it is just a matter of waiting the required time for the application to be reviewed. In just six or eight weeks I should receive my letter from the Division of Motor vehicles. If they accept my application I will be entered into the state lottery and have a chance at being able to purchase my first car. In fact, if I place high enough in the lottery, I could have a car shipped before the end of the year. Now that all of our cars come from China I’ll have to wait a little extra for the container to come in. Of course, car buying certificates are awarded to party members and according to need first.

My timing couldn’t be better because I read online that for the first time since the government took over the production of automobiles after the depression; the new model cars would be available in one extra color in addition to the standard issue black or white.

Now that I’ve been admitted into the state funded college program, I can use the car to get back and forth. I really don’t like the idea of going to college, but now that’s its mandatory and free, I might as well milk it for everything its worth. Under the government’s new “No Adult Left Behind program”, I get a 100% free ride for the next 4 years. The taxpayers pick up the tab for my college education, housing, and expenses.(and partying) I’d be a fool not to take that free ride. Hey..it sure beats having to work for a living like my old man had to do all his life.

My dad lost his job during the recession. He worked for one of the large banks that went under because of a bad real estate portfolio. Well, after the government nationalized the banking system they offered him some bail out money and of course he bailed out. Now the old man just waits by the mail box around the first of every month and he gets his government stimulus check. I’m not really sure what they are stimulating, but heck, its free money.

My dad used to make a lot of money with the bank, but we have learned to live on a lot less. It initially took my parents some time to fully understand and appreciate the new system. They weren’t used to having their efforts and wealth “re-distributed”, but I think this Socialism stuff really makes sense. This way everyone has access to the same education, health care, and social services. It does away with the upper class and the lower class and everyone joins the middle class.

It’s really not that hard once you understand all the government programs that are offered. We applied to the fair housing administration and now have our mortgage paid in full each month. Also, as a non working family of 4 we are entitled to food stamps to make sure we get proper nutrition. Ever since the president signed a bill that allowed congress to regulate and oversee all banking transactions, they are in a position to better determine the needs of their citizens. Let’s say a doctor refuses to treat his pre-determined share of non-paying patients, well then the government can simply put a freeze on his bank account until he “sees the light”. I mean, how else could we provide free universal health care? So what if we have to wait months or years for a much needed procedure or surgery. Did I mention its free? Everyone has to make some sacrifices you know,

It’s hard not to be excited, especially since the government recently issued my family a passport to be able to move from Michigan to Florida. I’m very grateful to live in such a great country. With the proper paperwork in place I can travel freely between states, as long as I check in with the state border patrol and the local authorities, so that they will know my whereabouts. (I’d tell them were I was anyway because how else would they know where to send my welfare check every month)

I read in the paper today that authorities expect the crime rate to go down in a few more years, since we banned the private ownership of firearms. The crime rate has actually gone up quite a bit in my state but that’s only because the criminal elements just won’t obey the new firearms laws. I’m sure now that the new national police force that now reports directly to the president is in place, law and order will soon prevail.

I think our country is really evolving into a much better place, especially since the government silenced all those outspoken and discontent members of the opposite party and all those conservative radio talk show hosts. There really is no reason for me to be an informed citizen any longer, with one political party, no one really needs to vote any more. I’ve always been too busy to get involved with politics anyway. So for me, I’m going to just keep eating that government cheese. After all…they really do know what’s best for us.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

FLU

2009-05-22T18:26:00.000-07:00

FLU

I’ve heard it said that man is the king of the earth, the top of the food chain, the master of his own universe. Yet, if all that is true, then why are we so defenseless and susceptible to the tiniest of micro organisms? We can run but we can’t hide. In fact these virus are the most abundant form of biological life on earth.

Every one of us has had a cold or flu, and generally it amounts to a day or two of discomfort at best. A little rest, some fluids, a little “tussin” and we are usually good to go. Its common talk at schools and offices around the country to hear, “the flu is going around”, “I’ve got the bug” or “it’s flu season”. What scares me are the new strains that spread like wildfire and have ominous sounding names like the “swine flu”. I don’t want to have to walk around with a little paper mask on all day and a bottle of hand sanitizer at the ready.

The good news is our bodies have built up some natural defenses to the everyday garden variety virus. If we catch a slightly more resistant strain a quick trip to the doctor and a few antibiotics knocks that illness out of us in a few days. The bad news is that the actual virus can also build up a tolerance to the very medicines we use to combat them, making them ineffective.

From time to time these virus (Greek: toxin or poison) mutate into a new strain that proves to be very resilient to our medicines and antibiotics and that our bodies have no native, or built up immunity to. Scientist find it difficult to attack these new strains because they are constantly changing. At times young and old people along with those with weak immune systems are very susceptible.

There are three main types of flu or influenza virus.
Type A: Found in animals: Ducks, Chickens, Pigs, Whales, Humans
Type B: Found in Humans
Type C: Causes mild respiratory issues, not an epidemic
Since the dawn of time, or at least since Adam took some bad advice from Eve, mankind has had to live in fear of the virus.

With all of our knowledge and
medical advances we still cannot inoculate ourselves from an intrusion as innocuous as the common cold. (or Rhino virus) The best modern medical advice is to “let it run it course”.
Infectious disease has reared its ugly head thru out human history and on every continent. Communicable diseases have been known to spread thru populations like wildfire, leaving a trail of illness and death. Fear and ignorance have often lent a helping hand to a myriad of ills known by names like: Plague, Black Death, Typhus, Cholera, Bubonic Plague, Avian Flu, Small pox, HIV, or Measles.

When a infectious disease spreads rapidly across a state of region it is known as an epidemic. (from the Greek : epi or upon, and demos: people ). When a disease has worldwide potential, spreads across the sea and across continents its known as a pandemic ( from the Greek: pan all, and: demos‐ people )

Authorities treat any fast spreading disease with caution. With the aid of mass transit and airplanes, one infected person can spread to thousands in a short period of time. The problem is compounded when we allow visitors from third world countries to enter the United States without any medical screening.
Some virus can spread between species. A fact that most people don’t know (or don’t want to admit to themselves) is that even in the United States our ability to deal with large numbers of patients that need medical care and hospitalization at the same time is very limited.

So, it seems we have our hands full trying to come up with vaccines and cures for an age old human ailment. As doctors and scientist work to immunize us from these health issues, there are others who would weaponize this technology creating super strains that are biological engineered to kill humans.

It seems unlikely that we can ever eradicate the more virulent of these strains. After all it just takes one host to carry the disease and start the cycle all over again. It seems we have to learn to live(or die) with these microorganisms, just as humans have for thousands of years. It doesn’t look as if they are going away soon. Gott’a run, I’m heading down to the pharmacy to stock up on some Nyquil.. So, take a few aspirins and call me in the morning.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

DETECTIVE

2009-05-21T17:50:00.000-07:00

DETECTIVE

I’m overwhelmed with emotion right now. All of my friends and co-workers are here for my retirement party. It seems like my service in law enforcement has just flown by, especially the last 11 years as a detective. As luck would have it, I’m also receiving tonight, the highest commendation from the department, a letter of appreciation from the President of the Unites States, and most enjoyably, an apology from two senior guys. What a way to point an exclamation mark on a 30 year career.

Actually I had planned on retiring a few weeks ago when I got my 30 in, and would have, if weren’t for the Fairbanks case. I can remember it like it was yesterday. I was so horrified at the crime scene that I promised myself right then and there that I wouldn’t quit until we brought the perpetrator to justice.

It was around 10:30pm on a Wednesday evening and my shift was just about over. I was looking forward to a stiff drink and a few days off, when I got the call. I could tell by the frantic tone from the first responders that this wasn’t going to be a typical case.

I hit the lights on my unmarked car and made it halfway across town in about 5 minutes. As I rounded the corner I was greeted by the familiar sight of flashing lights and the street was already full of patrol cars and firefighters.

I parked half a block away because the boys in blue had already taped off the area as a crime scene, and they were ushering onlookers away from the house. As I approached the house I was greeted by my old friend Greg Bailey. Greg and I go way back, in fact we were even partners for a while in my patrol days. Greg is a seasoned veteran and has seen it all, that’s why I knew this was something big, by just looking at his face as he approached.

By this time the whole place was crawling with uniforms and reporters. I asked him what the hell was going on here and he held a finger up to his lips and motioned for me to meet him over by his patrol car. I can remember the hair standing up on the back of my neck as we walked towards the car. We are part of a small department and it was very unusual for an officer to feel the need to discuss a crime scene in private.

Greg told me to get to work quickly because he had already received a call from the FBI and they instructed him to preserve the crime scene as they had two agents on the way. He was further instructed to turn over his jurisdiction and command of the crime scene to the suits as soon as they arrived. This must not be your garden variety homicide case.

Our conversation was interrupted by a cell phone call and Greg briefly put one hand over the phone and mouthed the word “Captain” and then he waived me off, while he was evidently getting chewed out on the phone. Judging by the urgency in Greg’s voice, I immediately turned my attention to surveying the area. I briefly talked to a few of the neighbors and eye witnesses and jotted down a few notes. I’ve found that sometimes the most seemingly insignificant facts or statements can latter turn out to be items of key evidence.

Our forensics guy had not yet arrived so I decided to start the investigation on my own. Out of habit I carry my own little digital camera and began taking pictures of the entire area. I’ve learned that it’s a smart practice to capture things in pictures before a bunch of firemen and paramedics start trammeling thru the evidence. As I was putting on a pair of latex gloves I noticed a cell phone, partially covered in blood in the driveway. It might be evidence so I grabbed it. As I made my way to the garage I also picked up a half charred piece of paper with some directions on it.

I hadn’t taken a dozen photos and my cell phone rang. A quick look at the screen showed it to be a call from Captain Miller. I’d never admit to this but I was sure he was calling to tell me to stay outside the perimeter until the FBI guys established control. Well, I would never knowingly disobey an order or hesitate in taking an urgent call from a superior but after all, it was a very noisy crime scene and it would be easy to miss the sound of a cell call.

I put the phone back in my jacket pocket and went about the task of gathering evidence. I counted as least 6 dead bodies that had most likely met their end by a horrendous blast that easily took out the garage and east half of the house. There was debris and body parts strewn everywhere, I figured it would take days to sift thru all the evidence.

I noticed two black Suburban’s making their way past the make shift barricades and toward the house. Well it didn’t take much law enforcement skill to guess who had arrived at the scene. I could see the two agents in their neat suits talking with Greg in the distance and gesturing over toward the house and in my direction. A few seconds latter I heard Greg’s voice over the bull horn instructing all personnel from our agency to meet him over by his patrol car.

At first I pretended that I didn’t hear the announcement but there was no mistaking the exaggerated hand signals that were directed my way, and I figured I had better comply. As I was walking back towards the road, I felt a metallic object under my shoe. I bend down as if tying my shoe laces and quickly scooped up the object into a small plastic evidence bag I had in my jacket pocket.

As we gathered around the command center, the FBI guys introduced themselves and made it clear that they were now in charge and would have their own people here shortly to take over the forensic investigation. They advised us to leave this matter to the “professionals”. I can’t speak for Greg or anyone else but I was aggravated that these Fed’s could waltz into our community and our jurisdiction and just take over our jobs.

We were all asked if we had disturbed or gathered any evidence and I simply shook my head and walked slowly away. As I was leaving the agent in charge made it clear that they would most likely stop by the station the next day to interview our people to see if we could be of any assistance.

I was already beat from a 12 hour shift and headed right back to my house when I left Fairbanks Street. As I drove back across town, I had a hard time getting the mental picture of all that carnage out of my mind. Sure I had been a cop for a long time, but I never really got used to seeing all that type of useless violence.

I had a hard time getting to sleep that night. The images from earlier in the evening kept running thru my mind. My instincts told me that there was something, something that just didn’t add up. How did the Feds get involved and how could they be on site so quickly. Why were the field agents so insistent on getting our people out of the area so quickly? Where those 6 guys laying scattered on the lawn victims or was it a pure accident? Maybe the whole thing was just my tired cop mind, trying to rationalize the evening’s events. In any case I finally nodded of to sleep.

The next day I was off but I got called into work, because we were to be debriefed by the Field Agents. Each of us that were present the night before were called into the office one at a time. We were told that they had determined the deaths to be accidental from a gas leak explosion. It seemed rather odd to me that they were more interested in what we did or didn’t know then actually trying to gather data to sort out the incident. After telling them that I did a casual walk thru and had no clues or evidence to offer them, they quickly sent me on my way.

Over the course of the next few days I was increasingly sure that the boys from Washington had tried to put one over on our “less sophisticated” small town law enforcement officers. My gut told me this whole deal was being swept under the rug and there was a full scale cover up in progress.

Over the next few days I worked on the case behind the scenes, in my spare time, using my police credentials and resources to interview people and gather evidence. It turns out that our recently departed friends were part of a terrorist cell that also worked part time as apprentice bomb makers. The item I picked up on the lawn that night was a military style detonator and judging by the damage done from the blast, they had a great deal of explosives on hand.

When I tracked the numbers stored in the cell phone I picked up, it lead me to the apartment of a middle eastern women that lived downtown. The FBI had been tracking one of our late friends and a 7th member of the team, a women, who had led them to the house on Fairbanks. As luck would have it she was out doing whatever terrorist type women do on a Wednesday night and missed out on the fireworks. The FBI team picked her up before she got back to the house and brought her back to D.C. for questioning. They figured that was the extent of her involvement in the case. She didn’t tell them anything and they neglected to inform her as to the fate of her x-friends. When they released her a few hours latter, she evidentially figured her clan was still on schedule to show off the efforts of their bomb making house party.

From there it was a no brainer to put a surveillance team on her and after a day to make sure she wasn’t being followed she headed right to the international airport to meet the other half of the cell. I noticed her standing out side the door nervously checking her watch and looking anxiously for her team members. Fortunately for us, the two teams had never met and as a security precaution, our girlfriend was the only liaison between the two groups. She also had no idea as of yet, that the only way she was going to meet up with the Fairbanks six was in the morgue or on her day of reckoning.

From there it wasn’t too hard to spot the rest of her party when they pulled up in a white van. All four of them each only had one piece of luggage, a “golf club case”. They tried to act discreet but I noticed one of them winking at her.

I guess it pays to think ahead because, being a team player, I had an FBI swat team all dressed as baggage handlers that met them at the curb. I can still remember the look on their faces as our boys offered to take their luggage. The look on their faces clearly showed this wasn’t part of their plan. They now had to scramble to open the cases outside on the sidewalk instead of at their leisure inside. The boys in blue were on them in a heart beat. One of the guys had planned ahead and brought a pistol in his belt. From my vantage point I could see him draw the pistol and spin to face the Feds. I guess action is faster than reaction because I already had drawn my Kimber 1911 from its belt holster and cranked off a shot. There is a reason I carry the old style 1911 in .45 caliber, its one hell of a man stopper. That single shot spun him around and he hit the concrete with a thud. One dead Tango. In less then a minute it was all over as the team zipped up the other three perps and I slapped the cuffs on the lady in black.

It turns out that each golf case contained an automatic weapon, and they had planned to wreak havoc in the terminal followed by a rather big bang from their now deceased bomb making brothers.(may they rest in peace)The second team was going to scatter their hardware around in the confusion and cause a secondary incident when the shooting subsided.

Well, I guess everything turned out ok in the end, but if it weren’t for a few bomb makers that failed explosives 101, things could have turned out quite different.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

FIRST STRIKE

2009-05-14T04:20:00.000-07:00

FIRST STRIKE

“Civility only resonates with Civilized people, and Violence only registers with violent people”
P.I.B.

For centuries fathers have given this sage advice to their sons: “don’t ever look for a fight, but if you must; fight to win”
My dad told me: “ Don’t look for a fight, but if one is unavoidable, Hit first, hit fast, hit hard, and hit last. Win at all costs.”

Most civilized peoples and countries abhor violence and war. The vast majority of people would always prefer to live in peace. We have all been taught that war is not only something to be avoided, but it should always be the last option.

“ Peace is always preferable, but in the course of human events, sometimes conflict and even war is unavoidable”

In keeping with this desire to avoid war, yet recognizing each nation’s undeniable right to self defense a tactical dilemma exists. If war is eminent and unavoidable does a nation have to wait to be attacked in order to offer a defense? Is it necessary to suffer casualties in order to maintain the moral high ground.

With today’s advances in weapons and warfare, the one who strikes first has a decisive advantage. In years past, an Army could afford to take the first blow and then counter with their own offensive counter attack. In today’s war fighting arena, we can not afford to turn the other check. The defender, who waits, can not afford to absorb a lightening fast crippling blow that could literally neutralize an effective counter attack.

Despite our best wishes and concerted efforts to handle all situations in a political, diplomatic, or peaceful forum, it takes two to talk peace. Like it or not there are those, that would do us great harm. The genie is out of the bottle. The exclusive club of nuclear nations is soon to be joined by some new and highly volatile members.

Today, the risks and stakes are raised significantly with weapons that are capable of taking out entire cities. A determined enemy can inflict more damage in one day (possibly into the millions) than was done in any war of the past. A single war head can kill large numbers in a 3-10 mile radius. In this type of scenario, there are no do-overs, and there is no second place winner. Past wars were just as brutal and unthinkable, yet the causalities might seem minor to the effects of a Weapon of Mass destruction. (although each and every death is tragic) Here are a few statistics from previous wars. (not counting wounded and deaths out of theater)

American Revolution ( 1775-1783) 4,435 battle deaths

Civil War ( 1861-1865) 140,414 “union” and 74,524 “conf”

Gulf War (1990-1991) 147 battle deaths

War on Terror as of 2006 over 4,000

American wars Total 653,708

Even the smallest and most economically challenged countries of the world can now garner highly advanced armament as well as weapons of mass destruction (either chemical, nuclear, or conventional). Using these indiscriminate weapons can lead to hundreds of thousands if not millions of casualties. In the wrong hands weapons such as these could be purposely brought to bear on non-combatants and innocent civilian populations.

So, the question remains, Is a tactical first strike capability a viable option? And, will the countries leadership be ready, willing, and able to use it if that need or opportunity should occur. Having this first strike capability and having the will and ability to use it, are two different things. Any leader or commander that would knowingly take the First Strike option off the negotiating table or the battle plan would severely weaken his position.

Israel for one, is now in a dilemma where this issue will need to be decided. I believe they have the capability, they have the resolve, and they have the internal support to utilize a first strike strategy. In their mind waiting only exasperates the problem and lessens its viability as a military option. They believe that their right to self defense usurps the demands of the United Nations and international law. Due to the small size and population of their country they cannot fight a war of attrition.

Let’s face it, the stakes are much higher today. Modern weaponry is capable of great destruction, of both military and innocent civilian targets. Especially when our opponents are less technologically advanced, they will seek out soft targets such as civilians to exact a toll on our country. In our culture we prefer to hold to our higher standards and want the world to view us as the reluctant participant in any conflict. I can assure you that our enemies will harbor no such moral dilemma.

You heard it before and it is true. “The best defense is a good offense”. The threat of a massive pre-emptive strike and its horrible aftermath has given pause to many an evil world leader. The sad and unfortunate truth is that someone starts all wars. I deplore the use of war as a political tool, however, I am a strong believer in Self Defense. (in the home, on the street, and on the battlefield)

Please don’t judge my political leaning or intent by the scope of this information. Just as you would surely use any means at your discretion to stop someone that entered your home with bad intentions. I feel that If someone has the intention to do great harm to America..all I can say is.. “Not in our house”

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

VIRUS

2009-05-09T05:06:00.000-07:00

VIRUS

Wow…When I was a kid getting a flu or a virus meant a few days off of schools, some chicken soup, and some quality daytime television watching. What a difference a few years makes (ok,,I’m being generous here). Anyway in today’s jargon, if you catch a flu or Virus it’s usually something a lot more substantial like Bird Flu, Swine Flu, Hong Kong Flu, or even the dreaded computer virus.

I really not sure how the whole computer virus thing works but I’ve heard from the experts that when you hook up a brand new computer to the internet you can “catch” a virus within the first few minutes. So, just to put this whole thing into prospective, if you simply click on that old internet icon on your computer and access the world wide web, your computer will be infected with malicious software. (I wonder if Al Gore ever thought this would happen to his internet) Surprisingly these intrusions into your computers files, memory, and hard drives are not a new occurrence. It seems that there has been malicious software out there since the first IBM computers linked together into networks, or accessed the internet.

Just like that, out of millions of possible users that are on the internet at that very moment, the minute I jump into the pool, even in the shallow end, I get attacked. Where the hell do these things come from ? Who would stand to gain by screwing with my new Dell laptop ? Must be a group of sick individuals for sure. I mean what does a hacker benefit from writing all that useless code just to crash the computer of a person he doesn’t even know. What’s the gratification? There are your garden variety viruses and other intrusions along with, Trojan horses, spyware, bots, phishing, spam, Malware, and Worms (along with hundreds of other insects and creations of the binary underworld)

Well, if that’s the case, and the digital black plague is just waiting for another unsuspecting new user to stick his proverbial xxx into the internet waters, how in the world do we protect ourselves? My last computer was totally ruined by this stuff. (ok, perhaps I inadvertently visited a few questionable sites) So, I go out and buy a brand new laptop with all the latest bells and whistles. I even bought the special heavy duty antivirus software and firewall that the guy at the computer place recommended.

So anyway, I get home and I’m excited about using my new computer. I can’t wait to get the latest updates on American Idol and the new radar pictures from the weather channel. This time I have taken every precaution to avoid catching a virus, I’ve created a sterile environment. So there I sit, new computer fired up, firewall installed and working, hands washed, condom on, Lysol ready, Nyquil on standby, and wearing a 2 micron surgical mask. Nothing can stop me now, I’m on my way to a perfect internet experience.

Three, two , one.. Hello world wide web, meet your newest visitor. So, I’m greeted by my Google search page and quickly type in “ Michelle Obama .. latest outfit”. Well, wouldn’t you know it my browser was diverted to some other web site selling florescent light bulbs. From there, my computer automatically brings up another random web site and then another. My hard drive begins a steady humming noise that quickly accelerates to warp speed and has my whole desk shaking from the vibrations. In a desperate attempt to regain control of my computer I try hitting the Escape key, followed by the old standby “Alt/Control/Delete combo without results. I also try clicking with my mouse to no avail, Not sure what to do and in a final act of disgust I press the power off button on my CPU. The hard drive only spins faster, almost in defiance of my command to shut off, I find myself wondering if this thing is possessed. ( I’d like to think I’m the king in my own house and I hate when one of my household appliances acts defiant with me. My vacuum and T.V. never give me problems like this) I finally yank the power cord out of the wall in a desperate attempt to turn the darn thing off. At this point, I’m not sure if I should call Dell support or an exorcist.

Of course you can down load or purchase any number of Anti-Virus software, and then pay on- going fees to make sure you always have the most up to date definitions. (makes me wonder if half the company is developing these poisonous viruses and the other half selling the rest of us the antidote. A quick look in the History and Quarantine section of your anti-virus software will reveal that they are worth the money. It’s not unusual to see the software block several improper entries in a short time span. It doesn’t even matter if you are using your computer or not, as long as you have cable internet service that stays on all the time.

There are also some free or shareware versions available for down load, but be careful. From time you time you will see a “Pop-Up ad” appear on your screen offering to speed up your computer and inoculate you from incoming viruses. The problem is that when you click on some of them, you are actually infecting your computer with a virus. (who hasn’t witness the shoot the moving monkey pop up)

As inconvenient as it may be, it seems like we will have to learn to deal with this newest intrusion into our lives. I guess in the end it’s just like flying by commercial carrier. You can still get to where you want to go, but it’s going to cost more and you’ll have to go thru security.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

WINE

2009-05-09T04:39:00.000-07:00

WINE-FRUIT OF THE VINE

“If life gives you lemons…make lemonade”

But

“If life gives you Grapes…By all means..Make wine” P.I.B.

I’m not really sure when the first batch of wine was made but history and the bible suggest it’s been around for a long time. There is evidence that the Iranians were producing wine as early as 5,000 B.C. I’ve heard that a lot of you medieval types drank wine because the water was so impure. Most cultures have a long history of wine making, including the Egyptians, Greeks, Germans, and I certainly would give the French their due in this endeavor.

Like most true Italians I’ve been making my own wine since I was a kid. My father made wine and my grandfather made wine. I think it’s like an Italian “Right of Passage”. Kind of an Italian “Bar Mitzvah”

I don’t want you to get the wrong idea here. You see my father never was a drinker (poor misguided soul) and to be honest, it’s rare that I ever have a drink myself. My love affair with wine is not about self consumption, it’s about creativity and patience. You see to make a good wine, you have to be patient, some things just can’t be rushed. One of the old wine producers used to say: “there will be no wine..until its time”.

Much like good Italian cooking, making good wine is an act of love. Sure it’s cheaper and easier to order pizza or buy some Chatu 7-11 at the local store, but then you miss out on the creative process. You miss out on the transformation from the grape to the wine, and the feeling of satisfaction you get when you create your own wine.

The best part for me is when you taste your wine, and sample the fruit of your labors. Perhaps it’s even better when you share your work with your neighbors and friends. Please don’t misunderstand me, I’m not claiming to be Earnest or Julio Gallo here, just a do it yourself, home wine making kind of guy.

Everyone has their favorite hobbies and pastimes. Some guys rejoice in maintaining their lawns, some like to rebuild their cars, I just happen to like making great food and wine.

“Wine is bottled poetry.”

Robert Louis Stevenson <http://www.quotationspage.com/quotes/Robert_Louis_Stevenson/>

Like any good cook that takes the opportunity to sample their work when preparing it, I have been known to take a few sips on the siphon hose while transferring the product from one storage container to the other. OK, perhaps I tend to transfer the wine more often than the next guy.

I learned a lesson early on that its best to let the other family members in your household in on the fact that you are making wine. The smells rendered during the fermenting process are quite unmistakable. Once when I was a kid I tried to brew a 5 gallon batch without my parents knowing about it. I can tell you from experience that hiding your homemade “still” in your clothes closet, will do little to keep you from being discovered.

In the early days I’d make wine from anything I could ferment including raisins. I have to tell you that my friends and I, all thought my stuff was as good as any wine out there. (but back then we thought M.D 20/20 and Boones Farm, was champagne.

Growing up there was always wine at the dinner table at my grandfather’s house. In fact, he had a large keg down in the basement. I can remember the old man having a glass of ‘Dago Red” every night with dinner. To tell you the truth I never saw my grandfather intoxicated. He always had one or two small glasses and that was it. My family never treated alcohol as taboo, the wine was on the table and if I wanted a sip, it was there for the taking. By taking the mystery out of it, none of us ever abused it, it was no big deal.

Today it’s really very easy to make wine at home. Don’t be dismayed by visions of crushing grapes barefoot in a large wooden barrel, with Italian music playing quietly in the background. You can now purchase wine making kits on the internet very inexpensively, and they contain everything you need to get started.

Also, you don’t need to get too serious or pretentious about your wine to enjoy making or drinking it. You also don’t need to mortgage your home or speak French enjoy a nice glass of wine. There is no need to wear a tux or be served by a guy in a restaurant with a little silver creamer bowl around his neck on a chain. Today there are many offerings available from wineries in the ten to twenty dollar a bottle range.

Recent research suggests that a glass of wine a day may actually be good for you. I wish all medicine tasted that good.

Relax, have fun, and enjoy….

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com <mailto:pooritalianboy@gmail.com>

P.I.B.

CREDIT CRUNCH

2009-05-09T04:06:00.000-07:00

CREDIT CRUNCH
I don’t know too many people that are not affected by the current economic downturn and ensuing credit crunch. Recent data released by the government suggests that up to 630,000 people per week are loosing their jobs. With Huge American icons like GM and Chrysler heading for bankruptcy, how can the average guy hope to get thru this thing un-scathed.? ( unless we each get a miniature bail out package like the big boys get)

With hundreds of thousand of layoffs, we are also suffering from a liquidity crisis caused mainly ( in my humble opinion) by greedy bankers. In any case, the average Joe (and even the above average Joesph) is finding himself in a very tight cash flow position (also known as: being broke),

Many people are running up their credit card balances to help buy the things they need and might ordinarily pay cash for. (by the way the credit card companies have seized this opportune moment to jack up the interest rates on your old gold card,)

To be honest, I have found myself also caught up in the current recession (code word for all out depression). My real estate holdings have suffered as well as my stock portfolio, gas and oil leases, fine art collection and international holdings (ok..may a little bit of hyperbole here). In any case, I’ve decided that I’m just not going to take this whole thing lying down.

I’ve always heard that there are often hidden opportunities brought about by adversity. So after studying the current marketplace, I think I’ve latched onto a much needed service. With everyone having severe declines in their personal income, it seems that most people are getting more than their share of collection calls from credit card companies, lawyers, and other agencies. Let’s face it, no one wants the embarrassment and inconvenience of having to deal with ugly collection calls. So, after some careful thought I’ve started my own new company: “Credit Advisory Services”.

For only $9.95 a month (for pg 13 rated services…”R” rated services run $12.95 per month. By the way, its payable in advance because we already know you can’t pay your bills) you can forward all of your harassing and annoying collection calls directly to my trained credit advisors. When you receive an unwanted collection call simply hit “star/pound” on your phone and the call instantly gets transferred to my secure lines at “CAS Central”.(located in a hidden bunker in Pakistan) Our personnel are trained to handle all types of collection related calls from credit card companies, doctor offices, utilities companies, gambling debts, and banks (our special dodging the IRS plan only available to our Platinum level customers for just $897.95/month)

We use pre-scripted answers, hi-decibel sirens, annoying fax machine sounds and even a recording of a baby crying to disorientate your creditors. Just call our toll free number and I’ll send you, absolutely free, a C.D. with some of our best anti-bill collector banter. You’ll enjoy the timeless favorites, from our creditor’s collection like:

Thanks for your call but our client is on vacation in Hawaii, and has no intention of paying you

Don’t take this the wrong way but you are just wasting your time

Our automated answering system is happy to talk to your automated calling system, while our client is enjoying all the stuff he bought while using your credit card. (Thanks for the generous $15,000 limit)

Don’t blame our client. You are the idiots that gave him all that credit

Might as well quit calling, It’s not our debt, and frankly, we don’t give a damn

Congratulations you reached our payment processing hot line. Please press “3” to get your payment processed immediately and it will be on it’s way to you by overnight express mail. Now ..press “4” if you really believed that line about getting paid…WHAT A LOOSER.

Thanks for calling…one of our specialists will be right with you…..You are currently number 996,223 in line, we will be with you sometime before your retirement.

All of our consultants are busy right now..please relax and listen to an endless loop of Barry Manalov music until we get around to your call.

Sorry we missed you…Please leave a short message that we in turn promise to never listen to.

Thanks for calling “CAS”. All lines are busy right now, so we are forwarding your call to the local Jehovah Witness Hotline…..Enjoy……

So, remember, if this economic situation has you down and you want to avoid hungry creditors, join thousands of other satisfied customers and call Credit Advisory Services today at 1-800- GetLost.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

DATING SERVICE

2009-05-09T04:01:00.000-07:00

DATING SERVICE
“Or Desperate and Dateless”

I guess some things never change. It seems most of us just need a little help when it comes to finding the ideal mate. Sometimes I think the animal world has a better solution then we do. Maybe two males should just meet out in the middle of a field somewhere and bang heads a little, with the winner getting the girl.

In the old days, in some ways it was easier. The parents of the future bride and groom would get together and choose up sides when their offspring were very young. Perhaps it was done for political reasons, or to repay a debt, but in either case, the choice was pretty cut and dried. Sometimes you’d win, sometimes you’d loose, but I don’t think there was a 50% divorce rate back then either.

Today, it seems like everything is just more complicated. Both men and women are working full time jobs, doing sports, and just plain busy. It really doesn’t leave a lot of time for long romances; so many people have turned to technology.

Of course you can try the bar scene, and stand there night after night, subjecting yourself to hideous amounts of second hand smoke, with a drink in your hand listening to heart pounding music. As you stand there in an alcoholic stupor, I’m confident you’ll make a great choice for a future spouse.

Ok so, after trying the “traditional” watering holes, you are now ready to give technology a shot. So, the very next Friday night, instead of hitting the local bars, you grab a beer and fire up the old laptop. Not sure where to look you key up Craig’s List (ok..maybe not that kind of girlfriend), I mean the Google search engine and start your search. Let’s see, what search terms should I use? Wife, Girl friend, dating, affair, compatibility, hooker, women, fling, marriage?

It won’t be long before your search leads you to a giant flashing ad in the sidebar, “Dating Service”. Now you are getting somewhere, as your chubby little fingers quickly type in the web address and with a click of the mouse you have arrived.

The web site is professionally done and has images of smiling and happy singles, looking contently into each others eyes, complete with testimonials. One look at those love birds and you decide this must be the way to true happiness. Of course every person depicted on the site looks like a run way model or underwear model.(with a full set of teeth) All the testimonials detail the ultimate happiness these people have found, and all give thanks and credit to this wonderful dating service. I wonder for a moment how many psychos’s and ax murderers also might use a site like this, but you quickly banish the thought from your mind.

You decide that there is no way you can loose; I mean the ad guarantees you a “perfect match”. You decide to take the plunge and begin your journey. All you need to do now is to fill out the 100 question survey to determine your compatibility. With another swig of your beer you dive into the questioner. It crossed your mind for a moment if you should answer each question in a manner that will make you look good or with a true answer that most closely defines your personality. Here are a few of the questions:

SEX: yes

AGE: take real age and subtract 5 years

WEIGHT: you mean now, or in high school ?

HOBBIES: Watching football on T.V…..No scratch that…Going to the
Opera and reading Shakespeare

I’M LOOKING For: A long term relationship. Secret Code for a great
one night stand

WISH FOR THE WORLD: I just want us all to be happy and get along
(Hey..it worked for Miss America)

IDEA OF A PERFECT WOMEN: Great bod…no inhibitions…ok…let
me have another try…Good sense of humor, likes walking in
the rain,

Ok..you get the idea..so now you just lie your ass off for the next 95 questions and then hit the submit button. You think, I’m almost there, but now the web site is prompting me to scan in a current picture. After fumbling around for a few minutes trying to decide where the hell you will get a current picture of yourself, an idea comes to mind. There on your desk, is your answer, but it has you standing next to your last looser girlfriend. In a flash you grab a pair of scissors and cut the head off your alleged soul mate, but even after several beers you come to the decision that using this particular picture may cast you in the light of a major looser or possibly a serial killer.

A thought occurs that you ponder for a moment using your driver’s license photo but decide that it looks more like a mug shot than a glamour picture. After a few unsuccessful attempts using photo shop to make the picture look better you decide to fall back to plan “B”. After consulting with another bottle of Bud Light you get the great idea of using your old high school year book picture. Hey, you were 30 pounds lighter then and had a youthful smile. So into the scanner it went and you are on your way to eternal happiness.

After 45 minutes of lying and soul searching you are sitting there with a very satisfied look on my face. You now just need to hit the submit button then sit back and watch as hundreds of anxious and hopefully Horney ladies fill your in box with their profiles and indecent proposals.

It seems that the first order of business is to address this full page pop up asking you to enter your credit card info. Your first thought is, Hey I didn’t know this process was going to cost me anything, I guess even dating service people need to make a living, but $300 bucks? You sit there frozen for a few minutes of indecision, while your mind does MMM or “Mental Man Math” (ok…300 dollars equals one week’s take home pay, or 6.5 pay for views of UFC matches, or 13.3 cases of your favorite beer. You sit there mired in indecision, like a deer in the headlights for several minutes.

Your mind is in full gear as you weigh out your options for a few minutes as you day dream about all the potential dates that could be garnered from this endeavor. The web site reminds you that you will find a 100 % compatible dream girl for your money. A sudden urge requires you to make a quick trip over to the fridge to grab another cold one to help lubricate the decision process only to find that its your last one.

You march back to the computer with a sense of urgency and a look of determination in your eyes, and quickly hit the cancel button. You were really looking forward to all that life long compatibility stuff, but decide that you really need to hold back some funds for poker night tomorrow with the boz….

Oh, well..I guess you can always fall back on giving the old grocery store and laundry mat another visit and maybe you’ll find your true soul mate there…..you never know..

Please feel free to contact me at : pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

PIRATES

2009-05-09T03:55:00.000-07:00

PIRATES

Pirates, this is 2009, are you kidding me. I’m not taking about the Pittsburg variety at the ball park, or the Jonny Depp of the Caribbean variety. We are talking real honest to goodness sea thieving, boat stealing, flag flying, plundering on the high seas Pirates.

Call me old fashioned, but when I think of Pirates I think of mighty sailing ships with rugged men, complete with pirate outfits, peg legs, hook arms, parrots, and patches over one eye. Ok, I understand that I’m conjuring up the pirates of the past, but haven’t pirates evolved with the rest of the species. In my mind pirates have been extinct for hundreds of years. If I were to see a pirate today I would expect that he would have at least moved his criminal enterprise into the 21st century.

Instead I’m reading in the news that another huge super tanker is being held captive by 6 guys in a Boston whaler off the coast of Somalia. I guess there has been little reason for a commercial merchant vessel to need protection up to this point, but now it seems that Pirates are making a resurgence.

Piracy is nothing new in fact hordes of raiding buccaneers were quite common off the coast of North Africa in days of old (Barbary Coast Pirates) However, not since the days of Blackbeard has the threat of Piracy at sea been a major issue. Today, ships sailing around the continent of Africa are once again deemed fair play by these outlaws on the high seas. The goal is to extract huge ransom demands for the ship and crew and extort the ship line and their insurance companies into paying. (I’m not sure but the last time I checked my Auto Policy, piracy was clearly listed as a policy exception, right next to acts of God.

When I see the pictures of these guys, I see a rag tag group of terrorist, not a well organized pirate type raiding party. It looks to me like these guys would really be happy if someone just gave them a good hamburger, never mind a whole ship. These misguided swash bucklers need to be busted and sent back to dry land, stealing hub caps and ripping people off on internet scams.

Any way you look at it the term pirates is still too good for these losers. What they really are in my eyes are a bunch of hungry terrorists in a row boat. Now, I’m not a military scholar or battlefield strategist but it seems to me that the U.S. Navy could make pretty short work of these doped up jet ski riders. It’s absolutely vital for world trade and commerce for shipping lanes to be freely traveled. This is an issue that all of the countries around the world have a stake in. International waters must be navigatable by all without fear.

Listen, the civilized countries of the world need to get together and pull the plug on these Pirate rafts. We are not looking at the third largest standing military in the world, these guys don’t have B1 bombers and nukes. We are looking at some sea sick out of work fishermen with too much time on their hands.

These guys have gotten away with this a few times now and their actions and successes are emboldening others to do the same. Its time to send a message, loud and clear. Civilized countries will not accept lawlessness on the open seas. Oh, did I mention, we don’t negotiate with terrorist. (even if they wear eye patches and black 3 point hats).

I can’t understand why the major world governments haven’t taken action yet. We currently have 3 major war ships in the area of the Pirates life boat. Maybe we are worried that they will call out their air force, which probably consists of a few guys hang gliding behind a jet ski.

Let’s give these guys a quick education in mess’in with the Navy 101 and move on. With all the big issues we are faced with today, I’d rather have us concentrate on North Korea, Iran, Iraq, and Afghanistan, than a bunch of misfits with eye patches and wooden swords.

Thanks mates…Please feel free to contact me at : pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

TELEPRESENCE

2009-04-11T04:52:00.000-07:00

TELEPRESENCE
It seems that every year there are hundreds of new technology words added to the American lexicon. Some of them are a harbinger for new advancements that are destined to soon become household words. Some, just sound kind’a cool and catchy to me, like “Telepresence”. With advance in computers, chips, and robotics, things that seem impossible, or beyond the reach of the average Joe today, are often common place a mere 10 years from now.
Unless I’m wrong telepresence or virtual presence is the next big thing. Just as man once looked to the sky and wished he could fly, today’s dreamers think about instantly transporting our bodies to distant places. In my opinion there is a significant technology gap to cross before we can teleport ourselves to another place, but teleprense is already a reality. Hey, why resort to conventional travel or send your atoms floating across the world if you can be where you need to be using the telepresence concept.
Communications giant Cisco seems to have a big head start in this arena (see their web site at: http://cisco.com/?POSITION=SEM&COUNTRY_SITE=us&CAMPAIGN=HNE&CREATIVE=Travel+Less&REFERRING_SITE=Google&KEYWORD=cisco+telepresence
In fact, in the example I saw, they depicted a women working from her home office via large screen T.V.. At her office workplace many miles away, there was another large screen T.V. situated behind a reception area desk and the receptionist could interact with other workers and customers, just as if she were there. Check out a few sample videos at these links:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rcfNC_x0VvE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7DXsocKcpN0
Originally conceived as a way to have meetings with counterparts in far off places, the technology is evolving to more practical uses. The social and economic implications are far reaching, and cost savings for businesses and individuals can be tremendous. Companies can have individual or group meetings with associates and customers globally, all without the ensuing cost and inconvenience of travel. A national company with hundreds of customer service branch offices can staff each one with less people and add few tele-screens, from the home office.
Imagine the upgrades to your quality of life if you could just flip on your camera and T.V. monitor from your home office each day instead of traveling to work. You could just sit behind your desk in your home office and interact with all your friends, customers, and business associates at work, just like you were sitting right there. Now, I’m not referring to one of those inexpensive video camera that transmits jerk video and mounts on top of your computer screen. This system is high definition, live time, picture and sound.
Newer versions of virtual presence under development would actually project a full sized 3-d , 360 degree image of a person right into the room with the others you are “communicating with”. They would feel like you were in the room with them, and you would be aware of not only the other person, but also the surrounding environment. Even in the early stages this complex system presents an image so real looking that it will have the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You could literally attend a meeting in San Diego in the morning, New York in the afternoon, and Paris in the evening; and still be home in time for your kid’s soccer game at 6pm.
I’m sure as the science behind this technology progresses and the retail price gets driven down, this could become a household appliance. I also see no reason to stop at using this great tool just for phone calls. I can see enterprising businessmen using the projection system for other profitable enterprises.
Can you imagine, surfing a virtual internet library of software for your new image generator. Peruse thru a large selection of pre-recorded material and select the data you are interested in. Next simply run your credit card and have instant access to the 3-D hologram of your choice. In seconds you could be having a face to face interaction with anyone from the president of the United States to the star of your favorite T.V. show. Talk about “Pay-for View”, this enterprise could be the next General Motors ( ok bad example).
Take that a step forward and imagine watching a new blockbuster movie, but this time on the outside of your television. How about having a nice visit with your daughter that is away at college in Hawaii. Of course it’s not as good as being there but it’s pretty close. Parents and relatives could also pre-record their images and thoughts on life, to be passed on to their children, who could view them in fond remembrance.
I’m so intrigued with this technology that I have been working on my own version at home. I’m thinking that I could better engage my readers if I could present my image as a hologram right in their homes, next to their computer screens. So, if you’d like the company of the “Poor Italian Boy” just click the link below and I’ll join you right at home or work. Please excuse my informal dress code, but it is kind’a short notice… (for the full P.I.B. sight and smell experience dice a few pieces of garlic first)
<<<>>
If my image doesn’t pop up in a few seconds..try clicking it again..
Ok, so just sit back and get ready to be astounded….

Ok…Close…we’ve got the body type zeroed in…..let me just adjust the link a little …ok: This should do it…
<<<>>

Getting closer….but I guess I need to do a little more work on this thing..
OK, maybe your spam filter blocked me out. ….I guess, maybe I’m a better writer than a hologram generating guy…you can’t have it all… Just try again in a few years and I bet we will get the chance to meet. Until then…….just stop by..I made extra sauce.
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

FAILED FOREIGN POLICY

2009-04-05T15:12:00.000-07:00

FAILED FOREIGN POLICY

Sometimes we all choose to believe something is real, even though intellectually we know it isn’t so. Some times we just want to believe in something and allow it to pass our reality test, and at other times it’s just good honest fun. Most of the time, its harmless for us to perpetuate these myths and go about of lives in the real world. So, I’ll give a pass to all of you who believe in Wrestling, Santa Claus, and the Easter bunny.

However, we clearly lost the recent contest of wills with the North Koreans. They announced they were going to launch a “communications” satellite and we postured up and told them we would shoot it down. We bandied about some other strongly worded political rhetoric and then sat back and watched as the North Koreans did what they wanted to do. They knew the odds were strongly in their favor because we had backed down on the much larger nuclear proliferation contest already. Not to mention the fact that we prosecuted a half won war there many years ago that we are still supporting with troops.

To make matters worse they threatened us and the world community with superlatives as to their retaliation if we tried to interfere.( their bluff worked). We retracted our own statement regarding shooting down the missile, and of course they took that as intrinsic permission to move ahead. There is no doubt that their regime gathered important scientific data that will enhance their ability to launch an intercontinental ballistic missile at the U.S. (giving them even more tactical and political capital to use against us at the next showdown). We could have stopped the missile pre-flight or had our Japanese Allies shoot it down (we have given them the means to do so). There is no question in my mind that they will both use, and export this technology to our enemies. (some have bombs and no delivery systems, others have delivery systems and no bombs.. go fish)

I think what concerns me most is when we incorporate this “wishful” thinking into our foreign policy. When we knowingly accept the word and propaganda of another country that intends to do us harm. I get upset when we are being intellectually dishonest with our self and the American people, in matters that concern national security. The worst part is we do it over and over again, with every despot and half baked dictator around the world. What naiveté, “Come on, let’s not make waves”, maybe they really are doing what they are telling us.

There is a game that children pay called “Mother May I”. In the game the children all stand obediently in a line before the all knowing “mother”. One at a time they each ask mother for permission to take a step forward. Mother plays a strategic game allowing each to make some forward progress, some by baby steps and some by giant steps (based on how pleased Mom is with each of their behaviors and how eloquently they each ask for permission.) But, Old Mom is no fool, she knows that if she allows one participant too many steps forward, they will eventually “catch” her. To insure she stays in power, Mom appears gracious in her allocation of small successes, but in the end always sends the advancing participants back to the starting line. It’s great fun as a kid’s game, but is this the way for us to conduct ourselves on the world political stage?

It seems to me that all the world leaders that would threaten and defy the United States and the world community all know how to play this game, very well. They have learned the game of patience; they know that the leadership of the United States will play by the rules. They move forward with their destructive agenda and allow us some small successes along the way. As we get closer to making any real progress they cry foul and send us back to the starting line. The whole time these devious leaders have no real intention of complying with our wishes or objectives, as they slowly make progress to their ultimate goals.

Two steps forward and one step back, appearing to comply or feigning the desire to negotiate, while inching ever slightly towards their ultimate objective with each passing day. ( Insert the Iranian nuclear contest of wills here) They allow us to rejoice in our perceived diplomatic momentum, offering us just enough apparent success to keep us in the game. (and avoid the penalty phase). These rouge governments also realize that we have allies and detractors in the United Nations and the world community. They alternately seek approval from one sympathetic ear and then the other, much as a child that was told not to do something by one parent.

How foolish our efforts truly must appear in their eyes as they play a careful and well calculated game of cat and mouse. They know that time and public opinion will dilute the resolve and attention span of the American people. We are always so willing to trust and forget the lessons of the past. While we couch our foreign policy statements in carefully constructed, politically ambiguous, and correct terms they threaten us with blatant and inflammatory statements and threats of retaliation.

We adulterate our demands with the use of politically correct language such as “ We are leaving all options on the table” (a watered down reference to the possible use of force), or we may need to take “extreme measures”. Of course, none of these veiled threats ever deter the “evil doers” from their mission at hand. For a threat to be effective, you have to occasionally back that threat with action. Our enemies know that we are a paper tiger, and rarely if ever, back a diplomatically correct “threat” with any action. They also know that we are increasingly reluctant to act unilaterally, and God forbid acting preemptively to defuse a threat. (We need to learn a lesson from our friends in Israel) Those that would defy us and do us harm, realize that we would first go to the United Nations or try to form a coalition before taking any action.

Over time when you don’t say what you mean, and mean what you say, you loose creditability. When you loose creditability you loose the “fear factor” and perhaps more importantly, also the ability to “bluff”. In any negotiation, when you loose the ability to bluff, you are left with only a few options including walking away with your tail between your legs and all out war.

We need to revamp our foreign policy and regain our international creditability. I think the reputation we need to portray to the world is that we are fair, but tough. We need to lead with diplomacy, but not rely solely on it. Mostly we need to be consistent in our demands and expectations so that others can tell where we really stand on matters of national and global security.

Remember, there are others out there who would doubt our intentions and our resolve. There are many who will confuse our compassion for weakness. It’s vital that we respond to threats and intimidating gestures with the right posture, and measure reactions, the World is watching.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

THE BRAIN DRAIN

2009-04-04T05:09:00.000-07:00

THE BRAIN DRAIN

Ok, before you move on to another page, this is not a Star Trek article. The big news is that Honda motors last week announced that they have developed a technology to detect thought patterns in the human brain and translate them to a robot. I’m not sure I see the correlation between car building and mind reading robots. Maybe one of the engineers tripped across the idea while he was trying to design a new hub cap. I can only guess that the guys in the car building department had a lot of free time on their hands. In any case this emerging technology has amazing long term potential.

The Honda press photo depicts a test subject sitting comfortably in a chair, garbed with what can only be described as a pasta strainer with a bunch of wires emanating from it. In any case, the company claims to be able to isolate and identify the brain impulses that we send to our limbs in order to make them move. By feeding this information to Asimo, the Honda robot, it can emulate four basic movements from the motions that the subject’s brain (a.k.a. Ginny pig) is transmitting. This new technology could represent an entirely new way for humans to interface with everything from computers to appliances.

I’m thinking that maybe Honda has some master plan to use this new technology to help them sell more cars. Maybe the driver could wear one of these hair dryer looking gimmicks and just mentally steer the car down the road. Of course, I’m not sure what would happen if you started thinking about hockey.

As a little background, Honda is an innovative and well run company that is branching out into jet airplanes and other technologies to round out their portfolio and lessen their reliance on car building. These guys are major players in everything from lawn mowers to motorcycles. They make a wide range of products from marine engines to ATV’s, all while U.S. car companies are busy building yesterdays cars.

In my mind this recent development has dangerous and far reaching implications, into the whole man vs. robot relationship (and you would already know this if you had my brain hooked up to one of those high tech brain sucking colanders). The possibilities are endless, in fact, I’m wondering if I concentrated real hard, if I could possibly get the robot to do the Macarena.

I mean, what if in the future we could be subjected to involuntary brain scanning and draining. It could potentially be used by the government, police, and even jealous wife’s and girl friends. ( I swear, that was my lipstick you found in the car) I’m also wondering if they could use any of this ill gotten information against me in a court of law. Being Italian, I’m already starting to think of ways to beat this new system. I just hope this contraption isn’t half brain scanner and half lie detector, which would be the last thing I need. I’m even wondering if I could throw it off course by just sitting there and thinking about baseball.

I don’t want you to think I have anything to hide (since the conviction, I mean) and I certainly don’t want to come off as being paranoid or skitzo here but , I’m not sure we should let this device fall into the wrong hands. The more I think about it, if this gadget can read my mind and interrupt my thoughts, maybe somebody can just flip a switch and throw that sucker in reverse and download their own thoughts right into my own noggin. ( I worry about stuff like this)

This new brain scan technology is in the very early stages right now, but unless I’m wrong it has huge profit potential and I want to buy in now, before the price goes up. My plan would be to get in on the ground floor before they end up going the multilevel marketing route, or being sale item of the week at Walmart.

Not to be short sighted, I also gave some thought as to how this new technology could help man- kind, especially “me- kind”. I’m thinking if I got U.S. import rights, I’d have to mass produce those bad boys to make them affordable to the average Joe. I could roll those brain drainers out nationally and get filthy rich. My plan would be to get the price down to 3 payments of $19.95 and then I could hawk them on my own infomercial with the Sham-Wow guy as my spokesmen. (robot and extension cord not included)

I guess this all goes to show that by building on newer and newer technologies, we can accomplish some amazing things. No to take anything away from the Japanese but something tells me that they may have stolen this technology from my father. Years ago my dad had already mastered the task of sitting in a chair and by merely thinking about something, it would get done. He called it “having kids”.

I wonder if I can teach that robot to cook Italian food….

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalainboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

LOVE, LAUGH, AND A GOOD STEAK

2009-04-04T04:56:00.000-07:00

Love, Laugh, and Eat A Good Steak

“Life is short..Live it to the fullest.”

With every passing year I realize just how quickly life is passing by. When you really think about the limited amount of time we have here on earth, you begin to get your priorities in line.

It seems like on a daily basis, so many thing are things vying for our time. There is work, sports, shopping, friends, bills, American idol. Before you know the sun has set on another day and your body says, it’s time for sleep. The next day is more of the same, and then one day rolls into another, and one week melts into a month, and soon another birthday sails by.

After you add up all the things that you just have to do each day, that leaves precious few hours to truly enjoy life. When you think of things in that context I guess you have to ask yourself.. ”Do I work to live…or Live to work”.

When it comes down to it, “the good life” is probably different for each of us. To one person it might be extra time with the family, to another a day out on the boat, perhaps flying kites with your kids, or maybe just a cold beer and Sunday football on T.V. I guess it just boils down to whatever makes you feel happy or fulfilled.

I know that some people search for their whole lives to find that one mystical thing to make them happy. What, is the secret to happiness, they ask? They will search far and wide, and save their money to be able to “afford” this ever elusive source of happiness. Maybe they would find happiness if they could just move to the next city, if they could find that perfect job, or if they could just buy that new car. Yes, perhaps tomorrow will be their lucky day.

No one is totally happy all the time; life just doesn’t work that way. Instead we have to be thankful for every grain of happiness and have something to look back on, or look forward to, on those rainy days. Most of the time we can’t help what happens to us, but we can manage how it affects us.

To some happiness is, and will always be, just out of reach, beckoning to them from around the next corner, or behind the next pay raise or career milestone. I guess to keep score, some people measure happiness in dollars. If money were the measure of happiness then all of those ultra-rich actors and actress wouldn’t be in rehab and would still be married.

In the end I’ve discovered that happiness isn’t something you have to wait for, or search for, in fact it’s usually right there in front of you.

For me, I don’t have to look very hard or travel to far off places. My heart is warmed when I see a mother holding a young baby, and every afternoon when I’m treated to a glorious sunset. Maybe I’m just a Poor Old Italian Boy but for me the love of my family, the ability to have a good laugh, and an occasional great steak, makes me a happy camper. And you know what, it’s true…The best things in life are really free.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

NEW WORLD ORDER

2009-03-25T10:46:00.000-07:00

NEW WORLD ORDER

Ok, I don’t want to advance any conspiracy theories here, but I see evidence that we are moving towards a New World Order. The concept is closer to reality than most of us want to believe. Most countries today, would be reluctant to relinquishing their sovereignty, however many can and do band together by treaties to grow, prosper, or survive.
I think the New World Order has been on the agenda for a while now, but recent events have moved it to the front burner. To be honest, it may take a few more generations, or a major global event to trigger it. That being said I believe we are marching inexorably towards a single government. A never before seen convergence of military might, technology, and world events, has added strength and creditability to the possibility.
Let’s consider some of the facts. For one, the world is a much smaller place today than it once was. By this I don’t mean the earth has shrunk, however with modern transportation, communications, and computers, today’s oceans and geographic distances do not represent the impassible boundaries they once did.
Also, all of our old enemy’s are now our best friends. It seems like if we get in a war with someone and wait 20 years, we actually get closer. Citizens on both sides of the old conflicts now travel freely and seem to get along fine. The Germans, Japanese, Vietnamese, and even our best friends the English (of course that’s going back a few years), all welcome Americans with open arms, and we them. Ok, I guess the North Koreans still hold a bit of a grudge.
Next, the current global economic crisis will have both immediate and long term effects on our country and the world. In fact, many economists feel that it is of sufficient magnitude to redefine nations. Leaders will demand and be granted increasingly more powerful roles. Lawmakers will push thru laws with far reaching implications on both public and private life.
News and Media coverage: With news coverage globally, and satellite technology to make it instantly available; people are more informed of and aware of global news. Anything that happens anywhere in the world is on our televisions by prime time.
In my mind, certain parts of the New World puzzle are already in place to facilitate this One world concept:
Most countries and leaders realize they are part of a world community and seek to get approval from others. It is vital for many countries to be included in the WTO (World Trade Organization) and to receive MFN, or (Most Favored Nation) status. On the flip side, sanctions by the world community can be pretty rough.
Currency: One thing that builds a wall between different people is economics and more specifically currency. Today the U.S. dollar is accepted just about anywhere in the world and let’s not forget my American Express Card(I never leave home without it). Years ago several countries in Europe have endorsed the Euro as their primary currency and medium of exchange. In today’s news the Chinese are suggesting a New World Currency. Also gold and silver are almost universally acknowledged as a store of wealth and are traded globally along with commodities.
Language: Another barrier between peoples of the world has always been language. Today most countries encourage their students to learn English as a second language. However, a few generations from now we may all be speaking Spanish or more likely Mandarin. (Rosetta Stone, get ready)
Commerce: Business is global these days, it’s a world market. We all have to treat our export and import partners fairly or we won’t get their business.(that doesn’t leave much room for hatred) Large and small companies alike have Factories and Investments worldwide.
War Allies: Countries and kingdoms going back to the beginning of time have joined together to wage and protect themselves in wars. Today, with the massive arms and weapons of mass destruction available to even smaller nations, strong allies and a world governing body make good sense.
International Law & Treatise: Most countries are signatories and abide by, an ever growing amount of international law and agreements. Maritime Law, fishing rights, International waters and shipping lanes, NAFTA, and Geneva Convention to name a few.
International agency and quasi government agencies: There are and have been many organizations and agencies with increasing awareness and powers to both reward and punish globally such as: The U.N., the U.N. Security Council (with its binding resolutions), NATO, the Atomic Regulatory agency, and the European Union.
Global problems: the earth is faced with Global problems like pollution, global warming, clean water, etc. The only way to solve these is to work together as one people. I could see an environment where we keep our own identities but are part of a larger entity, much like the states in the United States.
Hey, and let’s not forget the Biblical account of the New World Order, (which incidentally, I subscribe to) where the leader that comes to power is one bad dude.
New World Order…On second thought….maybe not
Can you imagine, we have enough trouble picking a President now, how hard will it be to pick one guy to run the whole world? I just hope the guy is Italian.
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

WHEN TOO FEW DECIDE

2009-03-24T17:08:00.000-07:00

WHEN TOO FEW DECIDE

It’s a cold day in October and I’m normally spending the month or so, in my winter home, in warmer climates. This week I was called back to the capital because the country is in a crisis, the Caribbean Crisis.. Tonight I’m working well into the night at my desk. I was deep in thought while reviewing the latest intelligence reports and surveillance pictures. My concentration was interrupted by a knock on my office door.
“Come”
I was met by a young sergeant with closely cropped hair.
“Sir, the president’s helicopter just landed outside, I will be back to alert you when they are ready”, Sir
He stood at formal attention using proper military protocol until I dismissed him with a salute. Good clean cut kid, I thought to myself. He will do well in the army. As he left, I just stared at the door for a moment, I found myself reminiscing back to the time when I was his age. Back then I was just as gun-ho, ready to make a name for myself. Things seemed so much simpler back then, I was so proud to serve my country. Now, over the course of 30 years I have worked my way up from the son of a factory worker to the highest ranking general in the Army. Only in this great country is such a thing possible.
Those were glorious days, and I fought with bravery and honor in many campaigns in foreign lands with my men. My responsibilities were great, but they were few. I thought of only my men, my country, and then myself. In those days I was at ease wearing my battle dress uniform and combat boots.
I must admit that over the years, life as a soldier and a commander has tempered my views. I have lost too much, and have resolved too few conflicts. I think that war both hardens and changes a man. Even the battles I thought I had won, now seem hollow when I consider the costs. Time and history have blurred the edges of what seemed so clear in the past. In years past I felt war was the final answer, the true resolution of any conflict. Now, after many battles, I know it to be a temporary solution at best.
Even today, after all these years, I still consider myself a simple soldier. I now sometimes fill the role of a diplomat or a politician, but I am really just an old soldier, doing his duty. Today I wear shiny shoes and a smart looking uniform, complete with so much brass and colored ribbons, but a part of me still wants to be back there fighting with my men. The decisions seemed so much clearer back then, I could trust my instincts. It was easy to tell who were your friends and who was your enemy.
But, I guess that work is for younger men and at my age I must serve where the country needs me. Instead of being out in the field I find myself in this office, deep beneath the streets of the capital. This is a place that few in the country will ever see or know about. Deep inside the bowels of this government building I work, signing papers and giving orders to men, I will never see.
Another knock at the door..“General”, they are ready for you now.” The council has voted and they are at a stale mate, they need your vote.
I sigh deeply as I get up from my desk and walk down the narrow hallway to the planning room. As I enter the room I stop and salute the men already gathered there. The president sits at the head of the table, right next to a few government leaders I don’t recognize. Also at the table is the head of the navy and air force. The mood is somber. I look briefly into each of their eyes, to determine which ones have voted for war and which ones have voted for diplomacy, but their faces are well practiced and hard, they give no clue.
After a few second s of silence the president quietly speaks. “Gentlemen, we are at the brink of war. You have all read the intelligence reports; I believe it is time we make a decision. No one wants war, our people do not want war, but we also can not afford to be perceived as weak. I don’t believe we can afford to be the ones to blink first; our national security and our pride is also at stake. As the greatest nation on the face of this earth and one of the last remaining super powers, it is our obligation to react to this situation. Our allies and the world are watching, our cause is true and just. We must send a clear message. We also must assume that our counterparts across the sea have already made their decision. Our troops, bombers, submarines, and missiles are all on standby, awaiting our decision. General, as commander of the Army, your vote will break the tie one way or the other.”
The room falls silent as I ponder the choice before me. Seconds tick by that feel like hours as I feel the weight of the decision I now must make. How strange that the fate our country and that of the world, has fallen on the back of a tired old solider. How can so few of us decide the fate of so many. Who would actually win a war when both sides have the capability to insure total mutual destruction?
“The men in this room have known me for many years. You know that I believe in dealing from a position of strength. I’m sure that most of you will assume that I will vote for war, but I am tired of war. Our country is great and I am a warrior, but there can be no valor or victory in this. By my estimation we could be only minutes or hours away from a nuclear catastrophe. This one time, let us trust in their humanity. Let history proclaim us as the greatest nation, the nation of peace. I vote we stand down and give diplomacy a chance. The world will know by our actions that we have prevented a nuclear war”

After a few moments of careful thought our leader had decided. “Then, it has been decided, Comrades. I wonder if the world will ever know just how close to the edge we came tonight. Hand me the Red Phone…Hello President Kennedy, this is President Khrushchev. We have decided, in the interest of peace, to immediately begin disassembling our military hardware on the island of Cuba and to stand down our forces, if you agree to do the same. We ask you guarantee the U.S. will not invade Cuba and that you remove your missiles near our border in Turkey.
Thank you Mr. President…we shall speak again soon.”

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

DIY- DO IT YOURSELF

2009-03-20T06:56:00.000-07:00

DIY- DO IT YOURSELF

You’d think I’d know better by now. I mean after all these years, and all those nearly forgotten botched home improvement projects. Maybe it’s a macho thing but I just find it hard to believe that I’m just not the handy man type.( I think it must be hereditary)
I guess I have a short memory, or it’s a little bit like a bad night of drinking, I swear I will never do it again after every DYI project I screw up. Afterwards I’ll sit and sulk for a while and complain when I have to pay a real professional to come out and fix all the damage I’ve done. But once the sting of paying for the project twice fades away, I start getting visions of doing it myself again. It’s hard to explain, I think it’s a man thing.
This ancient urge or instinct, kind of sneaks up on me gradually. I’ll be watching one of those home improvement shows (those guys make everything look so easy) and all of a sudden something primal goes off in me. It’s not unlike the biological clock a women feels when she wants to have a baby. Tick Tock..Tick Tock. I grab for a pickle, some ice cream, and I begin day dreaming while paging thru the Home depot catalogue.
The next thing you know I find myself driving aimlessly until I end up down at the local Home Depot and start looking around. Something magical happens to man when he walks into a place like that. There, spread around him, for as far as the eye can see are tools and manly stuff. Talk about a kid in a candy store, this is like a handyman’s Disney World. The very sight of row after row of shiny tools and supplies is more than even a man with great willpower can resist. The sight of the tools, the helpers with the orange aprons, the smell of the freshly made sawdust, it’s all rather intoxicating. All of this well displayed stuff, excites and emboldens even the most faint hearted of handy men. For me it’s like reverse Kryptonite.
I the blink of an eye I go from Mr. Doolittle to Super handyman. Suddenly home improvement projects that have been long neglected, spring urgently to mind. The thought occurred to me that I’ve been meaning to fix that leaky shower head for a month now, and today is the day. I grab a few of those extra large shopping carts and I’m off like a man possessed. I find myself in a frenzy, grabbing things off the shelf that don’t even belong on the same project (much the same way I grocery or clothes shop).
I finally pull up to the cashier, sweating like a pig, breathing deeply, and with several heavily ladened shopping carts. The lady behind the register has seen this look before and she quietly goes about ringing all the merchandise thru. One after another she quickly scans my goods, as I look on with eager anticipation. She looks up and gives me that knowing wink, and for that moment, I feel invincible.
Hammer, chisel, chainsaw, bicycle lock, paint brush, circular saw, and posthole digger. My heart quickens as she scans thru my drywall screws, fertilizer spreader, toilet plunger and wire cutters. A small crowd begins to gather and everyone starts chanting and clapping their hands with each item as it’s scanned. By now the cashier has the scanner going like a Vegas Slot machine, as she rings up my flashlight, nail apron, razor cutter, left handed monkey wrench, and can of hand sanitizer.
Finally amidst the thunderous sound of applause my grand total appears on the screen. Any man in his right mind would put some items back at this time, but not me. I swallow hard as a few tears well up in my eyes, and I slowly and sheepishly put my low limit visa card back in my wallet. Not to admit defeat, and with much emotion and fanfare I pulled out “Excalibur” the American Express Platinum card, with no know limit. I hold it high above my head with both hands to the applause and adulation of my new fans. I realize I have reached the point of no return, and I boldly run the card thru the scanner with a confident flick of the wrist. I hold my breadth and after a few anxious moments of complete silence, the word “Approved” appears on the screen. I’ve done it, a new store record.
The crowd quickly disburses as I head for the door, and the full weight and reality of my actions come to bear. As I approach my car I realize that most of the stuff I bought won’t begin to fit in my little Dodge Neon. The thought crosses my mind that perhaps I overdid it a little.
Reality comes crashing down as my cell phone plays taps. It’s my wife calling me on the phone to remind me to pick up some groceries on my way home. Guilt sets in rather quickly as the perspiration drips off my forehead and the prospect of hearing “I told you so” rings painfully in my ears.
It was then, as if by a stroke of genius, I thought of the concept of a tailgate parking lot sale. Sure there would be a financial penalty, but it was better than the prospect of admitting I acted impulsively. I quickly made up a sale sign marked. “Tools 50% off”. To my delight, many of the same men who cheered me on, back at the register where now my best customers. I’m not sure if they bought from me because of the great prices or because they had similar parking lot sales of their own. Pride bruised and wallet full of cash, I limped home and buried what was left of the tools in the back of the garage.(never to be used again). I forgot to pick up the groceries on the way home, but my wife soon forgot about it when I handed her the remainder of my cash (mainly in ones and fives) and told her to go out and buy herself something special. When she left on her shopping spree I quickly set the parental viewing lock on my T.V. to block out all future home improvement shows. Needless to say..the urge is gone..
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

SECRET SOCIETY

2009-03-14T19:50:00.000-07:00

SECRET SOCIETY

I’ve recently moved to yet another large city. This marks the 3rd time I’ve relocated in the last 5 years. I already feel like a criminal on the run, walking the streets night after night searching for similarly minded individuals. I find myself always looking over my shoulder and covering my tracks. I can’t afford to be caught or even associated with other would be criminals; the judge would really throw the book at me if I got caught again. In the good old days I could write about whatever I wanted as a political satirist. We could meet in the light of day to discuss and argue our concerns and grievances. Today, we have a very different set of rules.

During the day I have a respectable but poorly compensated job, but at night and on the weekends, I’m always out searching. I feel kind of seedy, hanging around bad neighborhoods and cheap crowded bars, but you don’t find my kind in churches or at Sunday school.

Every one is very cautious these day’s, the government has a huge network of agents and informants. It wasn’t always this way. As a young man I can remember reading the paper and listening to talk radio, where authors and hosts could freely and openly discuss the politics of the day, even if they disagreed with the party line. All of that is now a thing of the past.

I think it all started around 7 years ago when our country went thru a devastating economic depression. The aftermath drove most media outlets and banks to the brink of bankruptcy. They in turn, gladly took bailout money from the government, but it came at a cost. I guess they didn’t read the fine print. I’m not sure if they realized it at the time but with the money came control, and soon these formally independent businesses became state run and nationalized. To make matters worse, the party in power had an ongoing feud with certain very hi-profile members of the conservative media, and when they gained control they quickly silenced all of their most vocal critics under the guise of equal time for all and letting all voices being heard. (The Fairness Doctrine)

Well, it wasn’t long after that, and the whole complexion of news, and freedom of speech took a huge turn for the worse. Over a very short period of time all information disseminated to the public became edited and “scrubbed”. Radio stations had to toe the line in order to get or keep their licenses. Reporters that deviated from the official talking points were considered “persona non grata” at news conferences. In fact, even their questions had to be pre-screened. Those in charge were very careful not to call their activities censorship, but what would you call it. Only the news and spin that the government wanted the people to know was allowed. Freedom of speech became guarded and dissent against the state soon became a crime.

There are still a few underground papers circulating around that publish the real news. It’s rare to hear the unvarnished truth, especially when the government leaders preferred that the man on the street didn’t know about it. These are the papers and the people I seek in my late night wanderings. I’m willing to risk my own freedom to seek the truth that we at one time took for granted. The average person only knows, and is satisfied with, the information he hears or reads. So, to control the media, is to control and placate the people.

If I could have sent a message out to those bold newsmen and freedom fighters from years past. I would have told them not to go down the path of censorship and control. Free speech and a free press are the very cornerstone of free men. Somebody must have thought it was pretty important to include it in the 1st amendment.
1st Amendment
Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the government for a redress of grievances.

“ Knowledge is Power”

Please feel free to contact me at : pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG ?

2009-03-14T19:43:00.000-07:00

CAN’T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG ?
Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we could all just get along? Well, I hate to drop this little reality bomb on you, but we can’t. (Please stop holding your breath, with your fingers crossed behind your back saying pretty please with a cherry on top). People and countries tend to be afraid of what they don’t know and will always be inclined to put their own interests in front of that of others. (sorry, but that’s human nature). Also as in any argument between two parties, there are usually 2 sides, 2 opposing points of view, and both parties are equally sure they are right.(not to mention that God is on their side) Now, give both of those opposing sides a big army, some tanks, and maybe some nuclear weapons and there is going to be trouble.
Now maybe, if it was just a couple of citizens from each country engaged in this disagreement they would work things out. Or maybe, they would just throw down with a few well placed punches. At the end of the day the two “warring parties” would most likely end up at a bar and buy each other a few drinks. But, add a few politicians and diplomats into the mix and all of a sudden nobody can back down. A lot of politicians actually like a good conflict; it takes their people’s minds off of other important things like hunger, oppression, and a failing economy. It works especially well when the “politician” is more of dictator, or guy with a small mustache. The people can not object to, or oppose the conflict. (it turns out, those mothers don’t want to send their kids off to war either..imagine that)
Behind the scenes, each country is always jockeying for position, stature, and even relevancy. The leaders that represent these countries can’t let themselves be seen as soft or a sell out. To make matters worse, big countries love to exert their power, and small countries have to make it known that they won’t be pushed around. Now further aggravate the situation because everyone is saluting a different color piece of cloth on a flag pole, and throw in National Pride, and that’s how fights start.
Countries for centuries have gone to war over a myriad of things including border disputes, invasions, religious differences and political ideology.(not to mention the drop of a hat). There is also a deep seated desire to demonstrate to the world, that their own specific brand of religion (affiliation), culture, economics, or social structure is the best.
Self defense between people used to mean you could punch a guy in the eye if he tried to hurt you. Now, we go to war if “our interests” are being compromised. “Our vital interests” can cover a lot of gray area that might entail a shipping lane, oil, natural resources, or even fishing rights. To complicate things further, countries also compete for friends, Clients, exports, imports, and allies, all on the world stage.
There is no such thing as the “status quo” in world affairs anymore. Remember, friends and allies are always in a state of flux, based on current needs and conditions. It sometimes comes down to who is chipping in with the largest handout.
At the end of the day, the real danger for all of us is that we become so indoctrinated to our own particular way of life that by default, we become somewhat intolerant to all other ways. Perhaps we even consider them to be wrong or even sinful, by our own standards. But the real trouble starts when one ideology feels compelled to force another group of people, into “doing it our way” (for their own good, of course). I think that’s why I like the Scandinavian countries so much, they tend to stay neutral. (Not to mention the Swedish Bikini Team)

I can tell you form my travels and interactions with other people and cultures. We are all more the same, than different. It’s a small world, and getting smaller by the minute. Maybe it is time that “We All Got Along”

Please feel free to contact me at pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

D DAY

2009-03-08T06:42:00.000-07:00

D DAY
June 5Th 1944

(From a note found in the pocket of an American serviceman on Utah beach.)

Dear Mom: This may be the last chance I get to write to you for a while. I wanted to tell you one more time, how much I love you and how important you and Lois are to me. I know in my heart that you did not want me to join the service, but I had to do what I felt was the right thing. I’m sorry I lied to you about what I was doing, and to the recruiter about my age. Every since dad passed away I felt a duty, a debt, to serve my country the way he did. I think today, you would both be proud of me. Besides, as soon as this war is over, I’ll be coming home, and I promise I’ll finish school and become a doctor, just like you have always wanted, I promise.

This is what we have all been training for all these months. Tomorrow I get a chance to help make a difference. We were called into action to help save the people of France. We had been confined to base for several days leading up to operation Neptune with a few false starts. The time has finally arrived, all of my skill and months of training will now be put to the test. I want you to know that everything will be alright. I’m here with a lot of my buddies from basic training and also with quite a few of the Brits that we trained with for the last few months. I’ve made friends with many of these English soldiers and despite the fact that they have a great sense of humor, they are ferocious fighters. It’s actually quite exciting, I’m on board a ship heading from England to France. At this point I’m not sure if we are part of the diversionary force or the actual main attack force. I’ve never seen so many ships in my life. The fleet is getting bigger as we meet up at sea with other ships from all over Southern England. We are part of a giant armada of sailing vessels and part of the largest invasion force the world has ever known.

The fleet is made up of everything that will float. There are literally thousand of ships, and several hundred thousand men from several countries, but mainly the U.S. and England. There are battleships, destroyers, cruisers, mine sweepers, submarines, (LCT) Landing Craft Tank, LCI (Landing Craft Infantry), and transport ships. The water is so thick with ships, that I could almost walk between ships as we left the port. Our invasion force also has in tow our own docks and artificial breakwaters to aid in getting men, tanks, and material onto the shore. I have to admit that it’s not exactly what I expected. I had envisioned myself on the newest state of the art Navy ship, bristling with huge guns and plenty of armor. Instead I find myself on an old transport ship, that has no weapons at all. It really doesn’t matter because I will get to the beach right along with the other guys.

We’ve been underway now for several hours and the channel is getting rough. Many of the men are already seasick, and the pills they have given us are making us more drowsy than well. Our commanding officer has instructed us to all get some food and rest, because the next few days are going to be tough. All of the men are preparing themselves for battle. Some are trying to sleep, others are playing cards, and some are reading and writing letters. I swear, some of the guys have checked their provisions and weapons at least ten times. I guess, at a time like this, every man has to deal with his own fears and uncertainties in his own way.

I’ve been too excited to sleep, but I did go up on deck and get some fresh air. The seas and currents have picked up quite a bit and some of the men are sea sick. I’m really not affected by the rolling waves at all, thanks to all those deep sea fishing trips with dad. In fact, if I could block out the other ships and the mission we are about to undertake, I could really enjoy being out at sea on a night like this. There are more than a few men on deck staring out into the darkness, on alert for an enemy sub, plane, or floating mine.

I can tell we are getting closer now, the ships are all slowing down, as we wait for the large fleet of mine sweepers creeping along ahead of us to clear a path for the rest of the fleet.. They have marked a channel for us that is only about 800 yards wide. We’ve been told that at least one of our ships has hit a submerged mine and has been lost. Many of the ships are struggling against the waves and currents to stay within the area between the lighted buoys. Our ship has been struck several times by smaller ships as they have attempted to fight the currents and stay within the safe zone.

We have been instructed to fly a large inflated balloon or dirigible above our ship to help ward off low flying attack aircraft. Our captain has decided to ignore the order because he feels it would help announce our position to any fighter plane in the area.

As we get closer and the sun begins to rise, more details and gossip about our mission are spreading through out the ship. Many of the men have joined together to hear a sermon by the Chaplin. There are very few who would admit to being disbelievers tonight. I think the reality of the situation is sinking in. We were told that some of us would not be going home. Our group is part of a large task force in an operation named Overlord. The plan calls for us to land on several beaches in Normandy. From there we are to take the beach, establish a beach head and then push inland.

We were just told that our group would not go ashore with the first wave, we were assigned to H-Hour plus 2, but somehow that didn’t ease the sick feeling in our stomachs. We hear the roar of our own planes racing ahead of us to deliver ordnance and drop parachute troops behind enemy lines. Reports of vicious fighting are now filtering through. My heart races as I hear of mounting casualties and loss of landing craft. I’m not sure if it’s harder to remain behind in these first hours or be on the front lines with our brothers.

Mom, please don’t worry about me, I will be fine. Thanks for always being there for me, in fact just writing this letter to you has restored my confidence. I’m confident that the Americans and our allies will prevail. My hope is to be back home, and with you soon, and that the French will never forget our work and sacrifice here. It’s time to go …remember..I love you.

Authors note: This story although fictitious, rings eerily true. I salute the men that served that day and all of our fighting men and women for their bravery and service to our country.

Part of speech from General Eisenhower on 6/6/1944
“ ……..I have full confidence in your courage and devotion to duty and skill in battle. We will accept nothing less than full Victory! Good luck! And let us beseech the blessing of Almighty God upon this great and noble undertaking.”

SIGNED: Dwight D. Eisenhower

Please feel free to contact me at pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

SHIPWRECK POLITICS

2009-03-05T17:20:00.000-08:00

SHIP WRECK POLITICS
“ Not a joke..I wish it was..”

So…a cruise ship wrecks out at sea and only a few life boats make it away from the ship. This story is about 13 people from one life boat that survive. After 3 torturous days at sea they end up on a desert island in the pacific.( I love desert island stories..see my article “The Lost Island- December ‘08“ ) The first day is frantic and they all band together to search the island and look for food and shelter. After the week or so, the group seems to break off and naturally gravitate into small groups based on like personalities.

As luck would have it there were 6 groups, each with two participants, as follows:

2 Bums (correct that: Ambitiously Challenged Gentlemen)
2 Construction Workers
2 Successful Businessmen (currently between jobs)
2 Cops (sorry, Law Enforcement Officers)
2 Bankers
2 Politicians

2 Indians (Not really…I’m just kidding..that was the Village People)

(No.. This isn’t a Noah’s Ark type parable)

If the group was to survive there was a lot of work to do and it was important that everyone pitched in. The island was rich in natural resources that could help sustain life for the castaways if they were willing to work hard and stick together. There were huts and shelters to build, fires to start and food and water to gather. The main food sources were fish and turtle eggs. At first everyone worked together, it was one for all and all for one, as the desperate situation made a common bond between all the inhabitants of the island. But soon tempers flared and everyone was in a very defeatist mood.

After a few weeks, the sense of hope was diminishing and some of the natural food, water, and low hanging fruit was becoming harder and harder to obtain. Rivalries and animosities had been arising between the once close castaways. It was clear that something had to be done to insure the future of the group. Each group heads off to a separate part of the beach to strategize and determine how they would survive until they were rescued.

The 2 bums (sorry, Politically correct version: Hutless People) began discussing their fate over some 100 proof, fermented coconut milk. (from their crude still) Let’s do as little as possible and claim that we are too drunk to do any meaningful work, those other suckers can carry the load. Why should we work any harder here than we did back home. Besides we have our coconut brew, and as many fish as we care to eat. The weather is warm and the nights are mild, why spend the energy to build a hut. I’m beginning to think I could get to like this place, this is really living.

The 2 construction workers also talked among themselves: Listen, you and I have the skills to build the huts, and make the tools that everyone needs. We can get recognition from the group and maybe they will remember our hard work when we finally get rescued. We might even get a job offer from someone when we get home. Besides, we are getting bored by just sitting around.

The 2 cops also talked privately. Have you noticed how edgy everyone is getting; I think they really need us to help keep the peace. We don’t have any weapons but we are both big guys trained in self defense, we can help keep the group acting peacefully and even punish those that don’t. I suggest that one of us works on gathering food for the group during the day and then patrol the island at night, while the other works the opposite schedule. We can best protect and serve the community by doing this.

The bankers had the construction guys build them a very solid hut that abutted to a cave that was etched into the islands only mountain. Here they could help the people by safely storing their excess coconuts, shells, and valuables (for a fee of course). They could also profit by lending out some of these assets to others in need (for 18% interest of course)

The 2 doctors met for tea in their large and spacious thatch hut. (Doctors will be doctors). The older physician told the younger one. We are two well educated men, we shouldn’t be doing all this manual work. The health of many of our fellow passengers is beginning to deteriorate. Some are suffering from insect bites, sunburn, and stomach disorders from too much coconut milk. I suggest we trade our medical services in lieu of our manual labor. Since we are the only doctors on the island, let’s raise our rates to 2 coconuts per office visit. (and make our patients wait in crowded waiting huts) We can live a good life here by doing this.

The two businessmen had a long discussion about their situation and had mapped out a business plan and a few alternate plans. Their vision was to not only survive but prosper on the island. The business men were willing to work long hours and do whatever was necessary, but only if they could begin to amass some extra creature comforts for themselves at the end of a few months. They would not be satisfied with the very basics of survival; they wanted more and were willing to work for it. In fact they also had a plan to obtain options on the island’s real estate and to bring tourism to the island when they were eventually rescued.

The last group consisted of two seasoned politicians. They wanted to be seen by the others as the leaders of the island. They proposed an election to instate them into power. The politicians realized that they would have to find a way to pander to each of the constituency groups on the island to get their votes.

Being politicians they felt a certain sense of entitlement. This whole island situation was great for big government. The less the people have, the more they feel they need government. The political types felt that they knew what was in the best interests of all the others (even more so than the individuals themselves). They also felt that several of the individuals were obtaining a better lifestyle than the others and this needed to be corrected.

It was vital that they charged the others “taxes” because, as we all know the government can not operate or give away money to social programs unless they first take it from their constituents. They also decided that it didn’t really matter which of the two got elected because it was really a vote for the same ideals, and the other guy would win the next election based on a promise to “change”. Here are some highlights from their plan:

The Doctor’s large hut was unacceptable; they needed to treat all the islanders the same and even work for free. Anyone needing health care would have to seek permission from the government (that enhances the government’s power over the individual). The doctors should only be paid 2 coconuts a month without regard to how many patients they cared for (tropical medicare)

The Business men were accumulating too much “wealth”, they needed to be taxed and have their wealth “re-distributed”. These guys are evil because they seek to profit from their work. Besides we need funds to help the others who choose to work less.

The Bums (sorry, less fortunate people) should not live outside in the old cardboard boxes from the boat, they should have at least as nice of a hut as the construction workers (but not as nice as the bankers or ours of course). They too need the basics of life, such as indoor plumbing, swing hammocks, and a big screen T.V. ( Ok..its an island, I caught that one).

The Cops should work tirelessly for the politicians and help enforce any law or decision that we make. ( Yes..even the stupid ones). These guys work hard and pay their taxes. Tell them we will give them a gold watch when we get off the island.

By the way, the Construction Guys should work for the government at least 2 days a week for free building government buildings and would have to come and get permission from us before they could build anything else (and pay for a permit to do so)

Let’s not forget our friends the Bankers, they are having a rough time with so few customers on the island so let’s throw them some bail-out money. We can’t let them go under

Oh, by the way..the Politicians decided to outlaw the harvesting of turtle eggs, because they are an endangered species (of course, so are the islanders at this point). They also decided to make half the tiny island off limits to the others ( the side that held most of the fresh water) to preserve it as a bird sanctuary. (Hey..birds are people too….and they need there space )

Well, there you have it. Our islanders are all making due with the cards they have been dealt. Looks like a pretty pathetic situation, I’m just glad I’m back here on the main land where we do things differently ????

As a footnote: The 13th passenger was a Poor Italian Boy. He built a small raft the 1st day on the island and drifted for 2 days with the current. He ended up on another small island where 12 women from the professional women’s beach Volleyball league had landed with their lifeboat and he is reportedly living very happily…

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

THE MARCH TOWARDS SOCIALISM

2009-03-05T17:09:00.000-08:00

THE MARCH TOWARDS SOCIALISM

“The problem with socialism is that you eventually run out of other people’s money”
Margaret Thatcher

First of all, I want it to be clear that I am a dyed in the wool Capitalist. (What a surprise). I subscribe to this line of thinking because I think that most of the world’s problems and darn near all of its opportunities are best addressed by good old fashioned American Capitalism.

That being said, I think this country is marching inextricably towards socialism. The funny thing is that almost everyone knows it’s the wrong direction to go, yet we find ourselves marching, no racing, to the same inevitable conclusion. (Maybe if we close our eyes and don’t acknowledge it as socialism, it will be somehow better)

I have to admit that I’m at a loss to explain the deep seated need to continue on this path, especially when history and world events warn us ..”Do Not Enter”. Perhaps we secretly feel that we don’t really deserve the prosperity and life style that we now enjoy. It is our solemn duty to self destruct by moving away from capitalism and into the waiting arms of socialism. Or perhaps, maybe we are in a 200 year cycle that swings from left to right. Maybe Al Gore can tell us, it is as inevitable as “Global Warming”. With all joking aside, I feel that by inching towards socialism, we are heading towards a “Financial and Political Ice Age”.

At the very root of the problem, the forces that are “driving the bus” down this slippery slope are Government, Taxes, and Dependence.

Big Government: to the extent that it needs socialism to help perpetuate itself. Quite simply the more people that are dependent on the government, the more power and money that government is afforded.

Taxes: Are the tool that the government uses to feed the fire of socialism. Since government does not create any wealth on its own, it used the tax system to create funds and distribute (actually re-distribute) wealth. We (the government) know better how to use these funds than the people who created the wealth. They can not be trusted to be the executors of their own destinies. Take from the rich and give to the poor….sound familiar?

Dependence: (as in the opposite of independence) In the simplest terms, the American public is becoming more dependent on the government, politicians, and the health care system. Rather than solving our own problems we are looking for assistance. The current huge bailout programs will make us more indebted and beholden, to an ever more powerful and intrusive government.

Is socialism something to be feared? Not necessarily. Is it something to be avoided? Most definitely. Socialistic programs are designed to help people, to take care of people, but at what cost? In my mind it is like grading an exam on a curve. No one really looks bad, or is allowed to fail, but it also rewards mediocrity and puts everyone at the same level.

There are many well meaning politicians that espouse these views, they want to help the masses, and they have good intentions. It’s also been said that the road to hell is paved with good intentions. Many of these same politicians are extremely wealthy individuals. They have made their fortunes under the capitalistic system and a turn towards socialism will have little effect on their fortunes or that of their heirs.

I caution you that this road we are taking, will lead us to a place that is not good for our country. The consequences of our actions today can not be easily reversed. We need to carefully reconsider what we term as basic human rights and entitlements. Let’s not become a population lulled to sleep with government programs, handouts and easy solutions. Let us avoid an ever increasing tax on the finite and dwindling base of productive individuals and companies. If we ignore the warnings and persist on this path, we will break the back of American Capitalism, and in doing so, rob future generations of the prosperous and free America we all grew up in.

Please feel free to contact me at pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

THE ERASER

2009-02-22T12:22:00.000-08:00

THE ERASER

“In times of war the truth is so precious that it must be attended by a
bodyguard of lies” Sir Winston Churchill

Note: The following is from a letter sent to my attention and that I plan to publish in the morning. John Casik, Editor: The Washington Explorer.

I should have figured I'd end up alone in my final days. The work I did for the last 40 years, almost guaranteed it. I can still remember the day I started, I was just a young kid with a lot to prove.
The agency had already been in existence for almost 20 years back when I was recruited, and to this day very few people in government know about it. I've always thought that the work we did was very important, but we could never take credit for it, it was just that nature of the business. We even set up an “Office of Public Diplomacy”, as a cover to our true work. (Google it)
The way my first boss explained it to me, was that to preserve national security there are some things that the American public just are better off not knowing. When those situations occurred, our department was called into action. Our job was to mislead, and provide alternate but believable editions of the truth.
To do our job efficiently we had to have unrestricted access to a lot of top secret information and a chain of command that would allow us to dictate directions to the top leaders in all of the other agencies. Everything we did was strictly on a need to know basis, and we certainly did not make any friends in the FBI, Justice Department, Department of defense, or a host of other government agencies.
I had to take an oath when I first started that I would take my knowledge of past events to the grave with me and that is what I had planned to do. Our department had such a high level of security clearance that we were exempt and immune from testifying, even before congress.
Most police and investigative agencies are very good at investigating and gathering data, clues, and information, our job was just the opposite. When we were called out, it was our job to hide, obscure, destroy, and even alter evidence. We are masters of “Black Propaganda” and misinformation. Our task and our training even included fabricating and widely disseminating counter intelligence as well as propagating conspiracy stores. We offered alternative realities, that were plausible and even verifiable by alternative clues and witnesses that we fabricated. We often reversed engineered our own forensic evidence and clues, left carefully for law enforcement and the FBI to “discover”.
Eventually we got so good at our job that we could create events for public consumption, which never even happened in the first place, both for Domestic and Foreign consumption. We have been involved in almost every type of scenario from assignations to UFO sightings and satellite shoot downs. As time went on, we were called on with increasing regularity to reverse engineer events so that they would be portrayed to the public exactly as the government wished. It became common place for key information and witnesses to disappear, only to have perceptions reversed that we could corroborate with our own witnesses, crime scene evidence, and clues.
Many of the "fixes" we did left an almost "hard to believe" aura around them, but our work was so detailed and our stories so well scripted that it left investigators, politician, world leaders, and the general public as a whole, no choice but to come to our pre-planned conclusions.
We contributed to the public’s perception of events overseas like Vietnam, Iraq, and El Salvador. I think the Kennedy case was some of our finest work. Key witnesses disappeared and had "untimely" accidents. Hard evidence was lost or misplaced, and even the Warren Commission was furnished with our own fabricated evidence.
In any case, I spent most of my life serving the government and I guess, at this age I’m just a burden. I’ve seen too much and I know too much, and in my line of work, that make me a liability. I’ve tried to contact other agents that have recently retired or otherwise left the agency to no avail. I have reason to believe that my life is in jeopardy. I have placed the above information in safe hands in the event of my untimely death, suggesting that my agency has succeeded in “erasing me”
Senior Agent (Retired)
Scott Livenback
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com
P.I.B.

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT

2009-02-20T16:28:00.000-08:00

CRIME AND PUNISHMENT
I’ve been traveling this week and couldn’t help but notice the sound of police sirens in the distance during most of the night. I know we all try to block out the thought of crime and violent crimes as we sleep in our nice homes and safe hotel rooms. The truth is, that crime is rampant not only in big cities but in all American cities. In fact, we may rapidly reach the point where we simply can’t build enough jails. The government has already moved to hiring private companies to manage jails and retention facilities. Also, who wants a new high security prison in their neighborhood?
What is crime and what causes it ? Since the beginning of time man and society have established what is socially acceptable and what is not. Thru a system of laws and morals, people define the behavior that a society as a whole finds acceptable and not acceptable. Sometimes these guidelines vary from society to society, but for the most part everyone is aware of the “rules”.
For as long as there has been standards and laws, there have been those who choose to violate those laws and standards. At some level, we all may break the law at some point, perhaps run a stop sign or travel at 5 miles per hour over the speed limit. However, if enough people choose to violate the more serious of these guidelines, the social fabric of the community tends to break down.
In order to maintain the laws and standards of the society, some type of Justice System must be put into place. It can be as simple as a rag tag vigilante group or as sophisticated as our modern Law enforcement and Judicial system. The main tools we have used to combat crime have been mostly unchanged for generations:
Education: Awareness is good, but you can’t teach morality
Social pressure: only works on people who give a damn
Fines and other financial forfeitures
Imprisonment- that is so costly and has such a high recidivism rate
Capital Punishment- with its negative social connotation, but zero recidivism rate
In the end the only thing that seems to have an effect is to make the fear of punishment greater than the desire to commit the crime. (hence the phrase: don’t do the crime, if you can’t do the time)
If each society has well known laws and standards, that leads to the question as to: What is the Logic, Motivation, or Mindset that causes an individual to act “outside the law” ? Here I have listed my “top dozen” precursors to crime. (in no particular order)
1> Pre-meditated actions: Ahh…The bank robbery, the Scam, drug smuggling, the perfect crime. Unfortunately nothing ever seems to go as planned. The would be criminal knows he may be caught but weighs out the Risk/Reward ratio and decides to take a chance
2> Spontaneous actions: Not premeditated, but acted on when the opportunity presents itself. Also common when the participant thinks he has little or nothing to lose.

3> Criminal predisposition: Some people are just wired to taking the easy way out. They look at every situation with an eye towards taking unfair advantage. The rules only apply to “the other guy”. Steal its Easy money
4> Crimes of passion: Another spontaneous action crime, however they usually have a more compelling reason and is often an action that the individual would not engage in, if cooler heads prevailed (often quite violent)
5> Competing evils: There are situations that present themselves where the individual must decide between two choices that could both be considered illegal, and a split second decision is made.
6> Group or mass actions: Being social animals we sometimes get caught up in group actions. A simple example is when one person crosses a busy street while the crossing light says don’t walk. For some reason the rest of us feel compelled to also cross at the same time. A more serious example is often seen in riots, where a few individuals break windows or cause damage and the behavior quickly spreads. At some level we feel it must be ok..everyone is doing it.
7> Rationalization: Many people can rationalize almost any behavior. These rationalizations include: I deserve that possession more than them, they owe me, and it’s just this once..does that make me a bad person?
8> Mental illness: The individual that commits the crime is judged not to be in control of his/her mental capabilities…In simple terms, they can not distinguish between good and bad…A real lawyer’s favorite in the court room.
9> Inherently Violent: I know the peace lovers find this hard to understand but some people are just inherently violent and it just doesn’t take much to set them off. I don’t believe these folks can be educated or reformed; violence is their answer for most problems and it’s just part of their psyche.
10> Predatory mind set: A close cousin to the inherently violent. These folks are like wild animals, they are predators that like to feed on the poor and helpless in our society. They commit the crime…because the can.
11> Under the Influence: Weather its drugs, alcohol, or other mind altering drugs, many crimes are committed by individuals that are high. Increasingly drug and alcohol are at the root of many of our most serious crimes.
12> In search of drugs: People who spend half their life’s under the influence of drugs, easily spend the other half of their life’s in pursuit of those substances. It’s a vicious cycle that usually ends in a life of crime, imprisonment, or death. The addictions are so strong that they are willing to go to any depths to get their fix.

Fortunately most of the people of the United States are law abiding citizens, and our legal system has its checks and balances. In the final analysis, I guess the issue of crime and punishment is one we will be dealing with for a long, long time.
Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

AMERICAN WAY

2009-02-16T08:20:00.000-08:00

AMERICAN WAY

“We are still a country of immigrants, some of us have just been here a little longer than others”P,I,B.

I feel qualified to address this subject because I am the son of a son, of an Italian Immigrant.

Few things stir my heart like the stories of the American Immigrant, the architects of these United States. They had so little, often arriving here with only a few personal possessions, yet they have given and shared so much. Most Americans can easily trace our roots to the first of our relatives that made their way to the United States. They came here from every country, from every corner of the world to our shores. When I look back at the old pictures of immigrants as they arrived at Ellis Island, I can see a look relief, of expectation, and of hope in their eyes. They had reached their new home.

Everyone used to call the Unites States the “Great Melting Pot”, and it was. People from all over the world would risk everything just to come to our shores. Here they expected to find liberty, opportunity, financial success, and religious freedom.

These people left everything they ever knew behind to take a chance on this country. Many left friends, family, homes, and their way of life. They came here to share in the “American Dream”, however they also brought their skills, their ambitions, their hopes and dreams. Many of them succeeded beyond their wildest dreams when their hard work and imagination were turned loose on a vast and hungry new nation destined for greatness.

The truth is that America was called the “Great Melting Pot” because these people from all over the world came here to be Americans. Yes they honored and preserved the important parts of their individual cultures, but they gladly learned our language, our laws, and our ways. They Pledged their allegiance to our country and to our Flag, to our nation, their new home. With their sweat they helped build and shape this country. They help build our roads, our infrastructure, railroads, and our great bridges. Their contributions, their strengths and talents are what made this country great.

Today, I’m afraid that America is moving away from being the “Great Melting Pot”. We are moving from a homogonous mix of peoples to a multi-cultured and fractured society. Many people entering this country today are arriving illegally. They are not here to melt in with American’s ways. They want to retain their language, their ways, and their loyalties. We should all be proud of our past and our heritage; but put the emphasis on being Americans first and foremost. Especially today, we need more things that bind us together and fewer things that separate us. Unfortunately some are not here to bring their individual skills and contributions to make an even better America; they are here only to take from this great country. Worse yet some are here not to build us up, but to tear us down.
Instead of learning and adapting to our beliefs, ways and laws, they want us to learn and adapt to their beliefs, laws, and ways. Instead of “melting in” and becoming one with us, they want to separate us from them, and them from us. This is not the formula that made this country great. Our diversity has made us strong but our ability to assimilate these cultures has made us great.

We need to control our immigration and make sure that people who arrive here are here for the right reasons. All new immigrants should learn our language, our history, and our laws. People entering this country should bring a skill, willingness to work and study, they should pledge their allegiance. Their presence should strengthen American, not siphon off from it. If new entrants are not willing to assimilate, then we should not be willing to admit them. Period…

I think that once we enforce the proper policy for immigration, we can then open our borders once again, and attract the best and brightest, the hardest workers, the students and the dreamers of the world. Each group that has come here has made huge contributions to our nation and to our culture, in the form of art, science, literature, music, and sports. This mix, this random cocktail of peoples from around the globe, has helped make the United States the greatest country in the world. The glue that holds us together is not their wealth, but their burning desire to contribute and to be free.

"Give us your poor, your tired, your huddled masses longing to be free..."
I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"
THE STATUE OF LIBERTY

With each passing generation, we leave our foreign roots farther behind, not to be forgotten but to be part of our heritage. The heritage of our children, and our children’s children as they celebrate being true Americans.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

Also see my article: “An Immigrants Story”
P.I.B.

KNOW IT ALL

2009-02-10T17:24:00.001-08:00

KNOW IT ALL

“Only God is all knowing…..but man foolishly desires to compete” P.I.B.

Man is a curious creature, and perhaps our thirst for knowledge is what sets us apart from the other creatures on this earth. There has been a concerted quest to accumulate knowledge by rich and powerful men, since the beginning of recorded time. Archaeologists have uncovered thousands of papyrus scrolls and clay tablets with early writings. Rulers and wealthy individuals alike began accumulating great collections of written materials for both private and public use. In fact, it became a matter of pride as to how many scrolls a collection contained.

Several rulers set out to accumulate copies of “all the books, in the world” (they should have looked in my backpack during my high school years). Large sums of money were paid to authors of original works and the people who transcribed original works into copies. Individuals who copied original works were in high demand, it was exacting work and the quality and “trustworthiness” of the copy raised the value even more.( there was no Kinkos back then) In fact the Ptolemies had issued an edict that anyone entering the city with a book or scroll would have it confiscated or had to leave it with the scribes who made a copy of it.

Libraries have continued to grow and flourish over the centuries. The first public library in the country opened in Peterborough, New Hampshire, in 1833. Philanthropist Andrew Carnegie helped build more than 1,700 public libraries in the US between 1881 and 1919. So, libraries have had a valuable place in history, however the massive number of books and documents and associated cost,(especially trying to replicate this collection in thousands of facilities globally) has outpaced their ability to warehouse all the material at a single location. Digital storage is the more likely solution going forward.(and you don’t have to whisper in front of your computer)

However, never before in history has there been the means to both, gather, interpret and store this vast bank of wisdom. For knowledge to be of any value it must be accessible and easily retrievable. The mere possession, storage, or warehousing of data, does not impart knowledge.

Advances in computer science, have brought us to the threshold of amassing the greatest store of human knowledge ever known. Processing speed has increased geometrically amid great fanfare; however the real work horse for this type of task is data storage. Gigabytes, Terabytes, Petabytes, and even Zettabytes (lions and tigers and bears..oh no) of massive searchable storage. I underscore the importance of the word “searchable”.

Massive data storage without the ability to quickly catalogue or retrieve it is useless. The era of pigeonholing thousand of leather scrolls in wooden boxes and buckets is gone, as is the ability to store traditional books. Soon, all the information from all the books and greatest libraries in the world will be accumulated into one giant data base. The internet is another portal that will facilitate this gathering of worldly data. (what do you think a search engine does..hint..hint). Type in virtual any subject of interest and hit search. In most cases you will return millions of “hits”in less than a second, as the search engine communicates with computers and servers worldwide.

Seem far fetched ? Google, the giant search engine company is already, deep into this process. Check out their web site that catalogues books and written material at http://books.google.com/books , you will be amazed at the information and content they have already amassed. Just type in a book or magazine title and you will find either a synopsis or the work in its entirety. Want to read the entire bible..it’s on there. Type in “The Old Man and the Sea”..its on there. How about “Black Belt magazine October 1998 edition, you guessed, its there.( Excerpts from “The Poor Italian boys blog”..ok..so they haven’t got to me yet..I’m holding out for the big bucks) In any case, they paid a team to disassemble each book and magazine and scan them in to a computer. The rare old originals were destroyed in most cases.

Knowing Google, there is a bottom line reason for doing this. They are not expending huge amounts of capital and labor purely for the betterment of mankind; this is not a philanthropic gesture. Once complete this will be a powerful medium of exchange.

This emerging technology offers breathtaking possibilities for the advancement of knowledge and the human condition, but also raises perplexing questions. Can we reduce all of mans accumulated knowledge and wisdom to a single data base, and more importantly, who would have access to this database? If rare and original copies are destroyed, do we lose a connection with the past and the original authors? Is too much knowledge a dangerous thing…in the hands of too few ?

Knowledge is Power…..

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

BREADLINES

2009-02-08T04:35:00.000-08:00

BREAD LINES

I’ve never been known as an alarmist; however I am reaching for the alarm button now. Alright, let’s man up now and admit that we are in a depression. In fact some economist are predicting that this will be the worst economic down turn in 100 years. Now if my math is correct that would include the Great Depression of 1929.

Many people believe that the Great Depression was caused solely by the Stock Market crash on Oct 29th of 1929, but Black Tuesday was more a symptom rather than a cause. Well the stock market today has lost almost half of its value in the last year or so, but that’s just the start of our problems. We now have a major melt down in real estate, business, housing, and manufacturing, topped off with a huge liquidity crunch.

Generally when one segment of our economy takes a dive, there are others that remain very solid. The old saying was that “smart money” would always move to solid ground. Well, ladies and gents, this time is different. Smart Money would move out of stock and into real estate, but real estate is in the crapper also right now. Ok, then smart money should move to business, ahhh you guessed it, most businesses are sucking wind right now also (just ask G.M., Circuit City, Ford, Wachovia Bank, or a host of other previous behemoths.) Well, then smart money would move off shore, except this time the crisis is global.

Let’s take a little stroll down memory lane for a moment, back to the early 30’s. Now, even though most of us are too young to have experienced that time of economic ruin, it left a scar on not only our nation, but on a whole generation of Americans. The previously robust economy took a nose dive that devastated our industry, banking, job base, and stock market. Good, hard working Americans walked the street in search of work. Millions had to take government handouts. It breaks my heart till this day to see pictures of proud people standing in bread lines and soup kitchens for something to eat. It was a terrible and humiliating time, and an experience that I never imagined our country would ever go thru again.

Lets not kid ourselves, the current economic disaster is heading in the same cataclysmic direction. Without a well conceived plan, executed immediately, we will all be in line for government cheese. The government stimulus package must be massive and immediate, however the funds must be well appropriated to create demand and jobs, and not just be a handout. This is not the time to bundle in “Pet Projects” and pork with the purpose of giving favorable treatment to one sector of our constituency. The danger of this government sponsored stimulus package would be to cripple future generations of Americans with a huge debt they can not repay. This situation is not to be taken lightly; this time, it is a world wide meltdown of business, finance, and credit.

Headlines this week announced loss of American jobs climbing to a rate of 500,000, per month. Hold on, maybe you glossed over that fact, yes I said 500,000 more jobless Americans per month, are out of work. This is an unprecedented drop in jobs, and the effect on human lives is horrendous. To add insult to injury the unemployment rate is skyrocketing, and there is no end in sight.

What’s even worse is that most people’s nest eggs, their life savings, investments and “store of wealth” are decimated. The stock market is down from a previous high of 13,900 in July of ‘07 to under 8,000 lately. Millions have lost their investments and young people and old have devastated their retirement funds. It’s particularly challenging for people in their 60’s and 70’s that had relied on those carefully planned retirement accounts to help them survive for the rest of their natural lives.

The government decided to intervene by offering “bail-out money” to large banks and insurance companies. In their wisdom they acted to keep these large institutions afloat. The concern was that if they failed, hundreds of thousands of jobs would be lost, and the American people would loose faith in the banking system. Well, in retrospect, I’m not sure it was a good decision, because soon afterward a long line of business lined up with their proverbial hand out. I can tell you that this kind of interference in the economy is neither art nor science, and the ramifications are not yet known. Being that the government screws up most things they try to fix, don’t be surprised if they don’t mess this up also.

Perhaps, we should have let these businesses fail and let the free marketplace make the adjustments. The banks were given millions in bailout and TARP money so that they in turn could inject liquidity into the housing and business market place. Well, guess what, the banks patched up their wounds, consolidated with other banks and institutions and kept a tight fist on the bulk of the money. Many are using the bailout money as a way to increase their profits rather than as a way to help deserving individuals keep their homes. (While an ever increasing number of Americans loose their houses and businesses each month.)

I’m not trying to place blame here, this is not a partisan political issue and because that will do no good. Was it greed, impropriety, lack of controls, or just an inevitable economic cycle? American capitalism, free enterprise, and home ownership have always been the backbone of our way of life; and now these ideals are threatened. I ask you, what went wrong? Why are honest hard working Americans being thrown into financial turmoil and many are loosing their houses, their business, and their much needed retirement funds? More importantly .. how will we get the economy back on the right track. Don’t let anyone kid you, it’s going to be a while.

Please feel free to contact me at: pooritalianboy@gmail.com

P.I.B.

WRITERS BLOCK

2009-02-07T17:08:00.000-08:00

WRITERS BLOCK

Reading maketh a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man.
Sir Francis Bacon (1561 - 1626)

There is an ailment or affliction that most writers seem to suffer from, know as “Writers Block”. (if you haven’t been introduced yet, don’t worry, your day will come) If I’m not mistaken it is also common among musicians, artists and other creative people. We can be happily and creatively producing work on a daily basis, and then all of a sudden…full stop, dead end.. “brick wall”. In my particular instance, I find myself searching for a worthy topic to write about. After cranking out hundreds of articles in a year, it seems like I have addressed every know subject.

In my mind’s eye I picture a writer or reporter sitting in front of an old fashioned typewriter ripping off pages, crumbling them and tossing them at an already full wire trash basket near the desk. For me it’s similar to trying to remember someone’s name. The more you demand that your mind brings forth the information, the deeper it seems to get repressed. To make things worse, when you are under pressure, it just makes things worse. There is nothing like a deadline to really cause your creative brain cells to go on strike.

Maybe writers block is like the common cold, once you get it, you kind of have to let it run its course. Not unlike a baseball player in a hitting slump, the more you swing for the fences the more you strike out. If the truth be told, I enjoy writing; and have found that once you acquire the habit of penning your thoughts each day, it’s really quite enjoyable and addictive. As in so many other endeavors the habit becomes a passion, and the work becomes a pleasure and not a chore.

When I latch on to an interesting idea or concept to write about, the content seems to flow like water over a water fall, however when the “Block” hits, its trickles down to a few drops at a time from a rusty old pipe. I can tell you from experience that making yourself sitting there in front of a blank computer screen doesn’t help at all.

I’ve also noticed that sometimes your best thoughts come to you while you are relaxing or thinking of something completely different. They say if you delegate a thought or problem to your subconscious it will work on, and solve the issue for you without conscious thought. That doesn’t seem to work well for me, perhaps because once I assign the task to my subconscious, I tend to check back on it every few minutes (just to see how it’s coming along). Anyway, it’s like waiting for water to boil or bread to bake. It seems the more I keep checking on it, the longer it takes. (hmm.. even my sub conscious gets micro-managed)

If you haven’t suffered from the “Block” it’s really rather annoying. I find myself awake at night trying to come up with a new topic to write about. One quick look at my documents file shows my word processor having dozens of saved opening paragraphs and half written articles that just didn’t make the grade. It’s at times like this that I wish they had a pill or something, like writers Viagra to get me going.

I guess like good music or fine wine, good ideas just takes time. You really can’t rush creative writing.

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P.I.B.