June « 2011 « Vichy Water

June 28, 2011

Whitewater Rafting. How Green Is My Valley, Mind, State (NJ)(an environmental topic). Modern Absurdities. Welcome to Asbury Park(NJ). June 28, 2011

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: jackie, quotes, res, robinson — earthood @ 2:00 pm

Firstly WWI began and ended on this day.

For the second year in a row, answering the call to expand consciousness and earthly experiences, I went whitewater rafting Sunday with a group of Rutgers alumni, an ex-Marine and my son, although I wonder who put in that ‘call;’ after all, I’ve been mostly an avowed land-lubber and weekend non-adventurist, save for some doubles tennis or precarious, rocky jetty sitting. Why do I go down the rapids of a river swelled with copious run-offs from a week’s heavy thunderstorms? Well, it’s really recent life’s call to grow; the same call to environmental awareness, living to 150 years, finding past and future life, vortexes in Sedona, Arizona, meditation on Fifth Avenue, live music at Asbury Park’s Stone Pony, or absorbing contemporary Rutgers campus life.

on a cerebral mountain top in Sedona, Arizona

The setting for the expedition on Sunday was the Lehigh River, nestled in dense woods off of Route 80’s exit 273, in northeast Pennsylvania. No, it wasn’t the Colorado River or even the Moose River in upstate New York, known for its intense category 5 spring time rapids, but it was problematical enough for me to go out and buy a helmet with a distinct Germanic look, so I was told, when modeling it for my rafting comrades, just before a life vest fitting. Clouds made for cool temperatures and chilly water. Last year it was hot and sunny; immersion was refreshing. People rented wet suits, an ominous prophecy of discomfort. Minutes later: the quick flowing river, jumping into the raft, securing chin strap of helmet and a four hour journey.

our gang rafting on Sunday(yours truly in grey helmet)

We were seven undaunted spirits, urging each other to paddle forward, steer quickly right, no left, to avoid large unfriendly life-ending rocks, and to bail out the raft, rapidly filling. Confession: fears were quickly dispelled as a raft with six girls (aged around eight something) and an adult passed which reminded me of Kansas’s Dorothy Gale with Toto waving hello to a couple of bikers in the middle of a tornado dream.

Dorothy & Toto just before the tornado hit.

If they can do it; enough said. It was good to be alive, catching your breath after an enemy raft passed close enough to heave buckets of cold water at us. Retaliation is sweet and energizing. When the river slowed, I absorbed nature. Symphonies of silence, rushing water and falls, fallen decaying trees from lightning, abandoned railroad trestles, islands in the stream, plant life growing between boulder cracks, two ducks hanging nearby; mother nature’s artistry filling every ocular vista. Last week’s blog was filled with notions of living in a remote cabin in Montana, in the middle of nature, fending, surviving and mostly escaping; Sunday I experimented with required ruggedness and I liked it a lot.

On May 22, 1970, I celebrated the first Earth Day and ever since, have marched more towards awareness of the planet’s frailty and our culpability. Vince Lombardi once said, (why didn’t I pay more attention to his greatness and leadership techniques of ascension when he was here?), “Winning isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” I say, “The environment isn’t everything, it’s the only thing.” Suppose if you put the two together; we’ll figure it out; winning, Earth, species, survival; everything is the environment which is going to catch us one day long after my Montana cabin blows away in the wind and the white dove finally ceases flying and New York City is under water.

Vince Lombardi. Early on coached at St. Ceclia High in Englewood, NJ

A few years ago I got involved in the New Jersey Environmental Federation and started going to their annual conferences at Rutgers-Newark Law School. In late 1968 (memory lane time), a few of my fellow Rutgers Pharmacy school (also nearby in Newark) comrades discovered the joys of studying in the silence of the law library. I think I shall never see a quieter place to study than amidst volumes of justice and law students chasing paper. Medical school, nursing, engineering libraries all were noisier. Been there, done them all.) A few weeks before Super Bowl III, the comrades were studying; using legal mind-elevating chemicals and having a good noisy time when suddenly, a man looking like George Washington, with long white wig, told us, the British were coming and that we had to evacuate permanently. We were kicked out. When I learned the NJ Environmental Conference was held at the Law School, it became the ‘Return of the Invisible Man’ for me. The past years of conferences introduced me to many new comrades in the environmental theatre of operations. So many devoted, dedicated and inspiring people I’ve met. Among that ‘Readers Digest’ List are two stand-outs, Jeff and David, one representing Sierra Club, the other, the lobbyist for NJ Environmental Federation. The movement needs cohesiveness and unity. So I learned yesterday, the two long time friends, on and off the playing field, are not talking; each endorsed a different candidate for Governor. David’s endorsement of Governor Christie went bust.

Governor Christie. Rolling back environmental progress?

Christie is rolling back clean energy goals and loosening regulations in my New Jersey. That Montana cabin is looking good; so good I’ve taken to collecting returnable bottles on roadsides and emptied a huge pantry cookie jar to keep all the found coin savings; a ‘Montana or Bust’ venture deal. Jeff endorsed Chris Daggett, an environmentalist who had no chance to win. Last month Christie pulled New Jersey out of a regional program to curb air pollution that causes climate change. Bill Bendix said in ‘The Life of Riley’ (a 50’s television sitcom), “What a revolting development.” Jeff and David probably won’t make up soon and the air that I breathe, water I drink here in New Jersey will be wedged into further pollution by policies of Christie. (perhaps any Governor. “It’s not personal Sonny, it’s strictly business.” It’s funny how that favorite movie quote slips into so many intelligent, relevant, contemporary conversations)

THE Tower of Babel. (babble?)

A few years ago, I was thinking about the global environmental movement or lack thereof and conjured up a term to describe what I saw from high(up) on a red spiritual mountain in Sedona, Arizona; a tower of babble (biblical Babel?) (to talk foolishly, irrationally). In Babel, everybody spoke a different language; today’s metaphor for different agendas and values. Why would China care about car exhaust(greenhouse gas) emissions when their citizens are finally able to buy cars? Remember the smog during the Beijing Olympics? Let the west (America) come up with ideas and sacrifices first (we’ve been using cars longer) And so forth and so on. Babble (Babel) (I wonder if this qualifies as a homophone). I’ve got a lazy eye on the Kyoto protocol (climate change). Rich and poor countries still disagree on the future of the second commitment period of the Kyoto

Protocol; the only international treaty binding nearly 40 industrialized countries to cut greenhouse gas emissions. The discrepancy between the two groups grew even wider during the previous round of climate change talks. I think Tower of Babble. Point being; right here in New Jersey, grass roots, green grass still all around, we’ve still got babble dissecting the environmental movement.

A smallmouth American bass fish. (a boy fish I think)

Moving on, I’m going to fire away on things which ‘move’ me. Lou Dobbs, radio and TV host recently said, “I am saying drill, I am saying mine, exploit and produce. We have so many rich deposits of fossil fuels…it is mindless and self-destructive not to pursue that goal.” I wonder about clean energy economy and environmental due diligence. Climate change will turn the Baltic Sea into an increasingly freshwater sea and devastate its marine life. Smallmouth male bass fish, which inhabit our freshwater lakes, have been found to have female germ cells (oocytes) in the testes of 82% to 100%. The boy fish’s endocrine systems are being ‘disrupted’ by chemical pollution of our water.

I love how science calls this ‘intersex fish;’ the same abuse of terminology as when Regan MacNeil in ‘The Exocist’ was possessed and the medical community called it ‘Tourettes,’ and juiced her up with ‘Halolperidol’ a powerful tranquilizer, the same way we get juiced up by the media. Think about the last fifty years of ingested hormones and other drug delicacies being flushed into the nearby Atlantic Ocean. An environmental group needed called ‘The Unflushables?” And speaking of oceans, the oceans are at high risk of entering a phase of extinction of marine species unprecedented in human history. A deadly trio of factors – warming, acidification and lack of oxygen – is creating the conditions associated with every previous major extinction of species in Earth’s history. Marine scientists from institutions around the world recently met at Oxford University. New science indicates that pollutants such as flame retardants, fluorinated compounds and pharmaceuticals as well as synthetic musks found in detergents and personal care products have been located recently in the Canadian Arctic seas. Some are known to be endocrine disrupters (remember the small mouth bass fish) or can damage immune systems. “Enough, Calvin”

From environment to absurdities, one of my favorite blog ramblings: I get over a hundred health related emails (from a myriad of sources) a week informing me without charge (money) of latest developments and healthful tips. But I also get emails from Johns Hopkins, sometimes ten pages long; either promoting management strategies on Atrial Fibrillation for $39.95 or hawking ‘The Johns Hopkins Memory Bulletin’ subscription which is just $149 for four quarterly issues. I keep forgetting to cancel my emails from them; at this life stage I’m so into altruism and sincerity. Johns Hopkins kind of reminds me of network television breaking into programming to say a terrible virus is spreading all over the state, causing horrific symptoms, but there is something critical and timely that can be done to prevent it, so watch the news at 11PM, eleven hours away.

alan simpson. shame on him for denigrating senior citizens

Did Alan Simpson, Senator from Wyoming, call senior citizens the Greediest Generation as he compared “Social Security” to a Milk Cow with 310 million teats back in 2010? I, and millions of other Americans, have been paying into Medicare from my Day One, and now folks like Wisconsin’s Paul Ryan propose to change the rules of the game. Why? Because ‘someone’ mismanaged other parts of the economy to such an extent that they need to steal money from Medicare to pay the bills.

And speaking of bills: What does the U.S. military spend annually to stay cool on bases in the war zones like Iraq and Afghanistan? $20.2 billion, former Iraq war logistics chief Brigadier Gen. (Ret.) Steven Anderson said. A gallon of gas to power an air conditioner in Afghanistan must be shipped to Karachi, Pakistan, then spend 18 days travelling for 800 miles over land in fuel convoys, dangerous transportation.

Last week, I blogged about the old Brooklyn Dodgers and Jackie Robinson. It’s absurdly coincidental but embattled Dodgers owner Frank McCourt took the dramatic step of filing his franchise(LA Dodgers) for bankruptcy Monday, setting up a showdown with Major League Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig.

Google is actually the common name for a number with a million zeros. And is a bit of a war going on between Google and Facebook which has 600 million members now? Facebook took in $4 billion in revenue last year and the company’s private valuation is as high as $100 billion but it has two assets, data and members. Data is nothing unless you can make it something. Google has decided instead of paying for the right to access Facebook’s social data, they will just take it, because it’s there on the ‘free’ internet. And what about long term Facebook outlook? If history has taught us anything (right from ‘The Godfather’) it’s that people don’t stay with social networks forever. How over is MySpace? So over that even the guys who founded it can’t be bothered to update their own profiles. Hey, Mark Zuckerberg recently wore a suit and tie in Paris at the G8 summit where he gave a speech to world political and business leaders. He gets around, just like the ‘Beach Boys’ song ‘I Get Around.’ We can only imagine what data doors are opened just as I now wave at a vaporous apparition of ‘J. Edgar Hoover,’ sitting at my kitchen table.

j. edgar. hoover. everybody was afraid of him. can you imagine him with google and facebook

Soon, I’ll steal away to the Jersey shore at Belmar and take in some college basketball, summer league style at St. Rose High School, preceded by jalopeno pizza across the street at Federico’s. Swirling around my consciousness, is this recurring love affair with the city of Asbury Park, New Jersey. Two weeks ago: I had an amazing dinner there, spur of the moment, downtown Asbury, half-gallon of freshly made Sangria, trolley cars and salt air, lots of people under thirty, music coming from back alleys and store fronts, a crowded boardwalk, filled sidewalk cafes, bills posted about upcoming jazz and rock. A few blocks away, ‘The Stone Pony’ where Springsteen and ‘ Greetings From Asbury Park, NJ’ kicked off.

Asbury Park. old view from Ocean Grove

link to magical Jersey shore. Also check out the ‘Jersey Shore Icon Contest.’

http://www.visitthejerseyshore.com/

and for last minute special deals on Jersey shore rentals:

http://shorevacations.wordpress.com/

THE Stone Pony. Southside Johnny there on Saturday

The city was born in 1874 and in the 1920’s the Paramount Theatre and Convention Hall were built. In 1943 the Yankees held spring training in Asbury Park and in the 1950’s my parents took me on weekends for salt-water taffy, custard, boardwalk, Merry-go-round and to see ‘Tillie,’ the face of Palace Amusements, long gone. The city is coming back big time, rich in music history. Tony Bennett sang about leaving his heart in San Francisco and if I had a voice, I’d be singing about my heart at the Jersey Shore, Belmar’s jetty and Asbury Park’s rejuvenation, redolent salt air, gentrification, and haunting forces that keep pulling me. These last few weeks, I’ve had this internal battle going on. Remote Montana cabins call me. The Jersey Shore yells just as loud. If I can appropriately file environmental attacks on my beleaguered state of New Jersey and mind(cerebral), I’ll settle into notions of going west(Montana) to visit every now and then. Perhaps while roaming antique shops of the Jersey shore towns, I can find a Conestoga wagon and hitch-it up to an old Desoto, Edsel(wish I had just one now) or Nash-Rambler and head out west for only a few weeks, because in the final analysis, there is no place like home.

(ps. look below for a note on the asteroid which missed earth yesterday by 7500 miles)

LINKS:

New Jersey Environmental Federation:

http://www.njwea.org/

CONTACT INFO:

website: http://vichywater.net

Facebook: Cal Schwartz

twitter: Earthood

Vichy Water book trailer (65 seconds long):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qj2ko9gcC_M

Oh regarding my novel, Vichy Water:

The twittersphere is abuzz over a school bus-sized asteroid that came within 7,500 miles of Earth yesterday (Monday), zooming even below some satellites. Noted science, technology, and news outlets on Twitter sensationalized the event with tweets about the asteroid being a “near miss” and “close shave” that “buzzed earth.” NASA says the asteroid–which scientists named 2011 MD–is so small by celestial standards that it would have burned up once it entered Earth’s atmosphere.

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June 21, 2011

Father’s Day (thoughts from a New Jersey jetty in 1955). Celebrating the ‘geographic’ Jersey Shore. Why I Think About a Cabin in Montana (political escapism or cerebral asylum?) Atlanta Radio Vitriol. Another movie review: ‘Section 60.’ Clarence Clemons Remembered. June 21, 2001

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: high, jackie, quotes, res, robinson — earthood @ 10:58 am

President Eisenhower. a point of reference

Set sail in a heavy humid aromatic wind; for me, it provokes memories of childhood, father-son relationship notions and a Yankee-Baltimore Orioles baseball game on a Saturday in July when Eisenhower was President. I always pick on Eisenhower, it seems. He had a mistress you know and so did FDR. Senator Vitter solicited a prostitute. In a magazine interview way back, Jimmy Carter said that “he lusted.” I liked when President Carter told us in the 1970’s to go solar and get off oil. Now it’s windy; smoky dust gets in my eyes; I wonder if published ‘lust’ is different than sending picture tweets on the internet.

Christmas snowstorm(blizzard?); thoughts piled eye high

All of a sudden, its Christmas week and we had that terrible snowstorm (some media folk insist it was a blizzard) and I keep shoveling streams of pure consciousness into huge piles, as tall as eye level. Everywhere, there are huge drifts, piles of snow and double societal standards. Hot dog! (Exclamation of sarcastic excitement): are we entering a new world of revelations and redefining of politician’s private lives? I took a double take last week when my Governor Christie was interviewed locally on television and during the call-in segment; a woman asked why he sent his kids to parochial schools. He replied, “It’s none of your business.” I liked that response because he’s ‘politically’ right.

Governor Christie: "It's none of your business."

I just rubbed a strange striped stone from the Bay of Fundy last summer. A tour guide said some stones, near a big red cave, have magical powers. If I had the resources, I’d graciously send a stone to each member of the House of Representatives. Ah, but it’s Father’s Day so I need to get back to that baseball game.

pix of me standing near my jetty in Hurricane Earl last year.

When I was ten years old, my parents rented a bungalow in Belmar at the real Jersey shore for the month of August. There weren’t a lot of kids my age, so I found ways to amuse myself; notably in a pinball amusement place. When no one was looking, as if I was a local street urchin, but I was, I crawled underneath the machines, and foraged for dropped nickels and dimes. Hey, it was a living. When I finished accumulating daily wealth, I walked to the beach, checked-in with my mother and baby sisters, then I disappeared to my ‘Walden Pond,’ the jetty at the Shark River inlet, where I’d sit for hours, dreaming, staring down ships heading to Kilimanjaro and places Blackbeard would frequent. Sometimes you can’t explain why things buried deep inside your brain just randomly fire away. Lamentation: why I wasn’t ‘afflicted’ with “superior autobiographical memory;” imagine having total recall of every day of your life. CBS/Sixty Minutes did a report on this condition which has only recently come to light. A handful of people, including actress Marilu Henner have this memory condition. And it’s probably true, if you ‘suffer’ from this, you might never lose an argument. Here’s the program video link:

video link to CBS/60 minutes/ superior autobiographical memory

But what I do remember from the jetty during that summer of my contentedness was how I kept wondering about being someone’s father and how important it was and whose father would I be? Gosh, I was only ten, so why did fatherhood dreams pre-empt the Brooklyn Dodgers on their way to the pennant and a chance to get the hated Yankees in a World Series? Funny, I remember loving the Dodgers and not the Yankees; it was a racial thing and I was ten.

Jackie Robinson: why I loved the Dodgers

The Dodgers and my hero, Jackie Robinson were the first to break baseball’s color barrier, not the Yankees. Jetty sitting one day; there were white caps and my mother told me the ocean is readying for a big storm; I resolved before that storm, that I’d bring my child to this magical jetty which helps you look past the horizon and tell my son/daughter (I was never gender specific) how much I dreamed of bringing them here. My father was never with me. I was always alone. Oh, a couple of times he’d throw a baseball to me in the driveway until that wonderful July day in the Bronx. My father got tickets to the Yankees versus Orioles. We were so early that we watched a choose-up game in a field near the stadium and pre-baked in hot unyielding sun; once inside Yankee Stadium, he passed out from sun stoke and I saw the game from a nurse’s office. That was the last time my father spent a day with me for the rest of his life. My father, who never even saw me play organized basketball, still taught me about fatherhood. When my son was ten years old, we went to my jetty and I told him the story. The following year we went to a football game at Rutgers Stadium and the year after that, my son and I were season ticket holders. I thought about my father yesterday. One day I’ll ask my son what his plans are for our Belmar jetty.

It’s a good time to plug this amazing place of sand, jetties, Atlantic Ocean, summer sounds, winter solitude and French fries with vinegar sold at boardwalk vendors. The Jersey Shore is a best kept secret (sort of). Years ago, people from eastern Pennsylvania used to invade the shore, carrying lunches in shoe-boxes; hence they were called “shoe-bees.”

Some of the most expensive real estate any where is on Stone Harbor, near Atlantic City and HBO has the successful series, ‘The Boardwalk Empire” as is MTV’s ‘Jersey Shore.’ That’s a lot of pop culture, for the obvious reason; the shore is happening, evolving and magical (and probably hard to adequately describe if you haven’t been or happen to live in one of the Dakotas). Spur of the moment Saturday night, with friends, we went to Asbury Park (where Bruce Springsteen first met Clarence Clemons), walked downtown, crowded with casual folks, found a perfect Portuguese restaurant and dined for three hours outside, under cirrus clouds and a pink setting sun; two pitchers of Sangria enhanced as did a red trolley car that passed by. After dinner, we walked around absorbing the Haight-Ashbury-like youthful energy of the place. You could hear/feel echoes of Bruce, but there’s actually plenty live music to be had all the time in Asbury Park. Here’s a link/doorway/rabbit hole/key to shore magic:

http://www.visitthejerseyshore.com/

Asbury Park Convention Hall

Also check out the ‘Jersey Shore Icon Contest.’

And speaking of Clarence Clemons, why is it in life; that you never pay enough attention to gifted humans, or find ways to get to that first row and just keep regularly taking in amazing precious talent? Clemons met Springsteen on the Jersey Shore in 1971 and played on two songs on Springsteen’s debut album; ‘Greetings from Asbury Park, N.J.’ Clemons joined the inaugural E Street Band in late 1972 and played with them until his death. He played on 21 Springsteen albums and was featured prominently on many of his biggest hits, including “Blinded By the Light,” “Thunder Road,” “Jungleland,” “Badlands” and “I’m Goin’ Down.” On stage, Springsteen regularly introduced Clemons as “The Biggest Man You’ve Ever Seen.” Clemons was around 6-foot-5 and 270 pounds. And I’ve added “not having seen Clarence perform enough live,” to my ever growing list of “should’ve done” things. I hate that list and I loved Clarence Clemons.

Clarence Clemons

Youtube. Clarence Clemons “Jungleland” solo

So what’s the deal with my moving to a cabin in Montana? It’s because of everything swirling around my head, Ma (listening now to Dylan’s song “It’s Alright, Ma, (I’m Only Bleeding).” “Son, you take too much to heart. Go hop on your Harley, find Captain America.” I wish my mother would’ve said that back then. I might’ve headed out west, discovered America and more of myself. Cousin Stuart offered me a ride on the back of a Harley last summer in Dallas. I looked to the hot sun and asked Ma, “Is it alright?”

“An’ though the rules of the road have been lodged
It’s only people’s games that you got to dodge
And it’s alright, Ma, I can make it” Bob Dylan

Here we go; the roller coaster ride at Olympic Park in Irvington, New Jersey. I rode that ride once when I was twelve years old and never again. Could it be, I’m still dizzy? Guess what I’ve known all along; The Supreme Court ruled unanimously today that a huge class-action lawsuit against Wal-Mart Stores alleging sex discrimination cannot proceed. The lawsuit could have involved up to 1.6 million current and former Wal-Mart employees and billions of dollars in damages. The plaintiffs (women) can still pursue their suit on their own, but not as a class action, the court ruled, meaning much less money would be at stake. See Ma, big money usually always wins.

My dream log cabin in Montana: vegetable garden around the back

Back to the cabin idea; I’d live alone, grow my own cucumbers, no electrical outlets, no outside world, no US Mail, no political campaigns, media feeding frenzies and other dire straits machinations.

There seems to be ten states now where it’s particularly bad to be a woman because of a lot of new legislation (hint). And if I did cabin living (with only batteries), there might not be National Public Radio, under the de-fund gun. In Minnesota, the Education Finance Committee is readying a funding bill that will eliminate the goal of desegregated schools. And a few states have rejected high speed rail service and I love train travel as you all know. I like net (internet) neutrality; that’s under fire. Did some House representative from Arkansas introduce legislation cutting funding for the President’s teleprompter? Are there real wars going on against unions, collective bargaining, middle class; all of which touch me? I’m so ‘middle,’ I want to live in a cabin. In Texas, Debbie Riddle (R-TX) introduced a bill that would jail people who hire undocumented workers but would exempt anyone who hires “the help” for their homes, thereby effectively legalizing slavery for illegal immigrants. And what’s the deal with Neal Boortz, an Atlanta vitriolic radio talk show host advocating vigilantes and shooting ‘street thugs.’ Cox broadcasting likes the publicity; good for ratings? And how come there isn’t more of an outcry from the media and politicians or are they still burned out on hot dogs? “Hey Ma, do you see why I’m dizzy?”

Rep Peter King. was his hearings really necessary?

‘Islamophobia’ became institutionalized in the U.S. House of Representatives when Rep. Peter King (R.NY) had his McCarthy-esque “investigation of radical Islam” back in March. I’m so tired of Joe McCarthy. Pell Grants, that help middle class kids go to college, have been cut by 25%. Back in my cabin, I wouldn’t have to worry about the planet adding a billion people every 12 years.

Flooded Fort Calhoun Nuclear Plant

Hey Ma, more swirling stuff; Back on June 7th, there was a fire at the Fort Calhoun Nebraska nuclear plant. The official story is that the fire was in an electrical switchgear room at the plant. The facility lost power to a pump that cools the spent fuel pool for approximately 90 minutes. According to the Omaha Public Power District, the fire was quickly extinguished and no radioactive material was released. Right now, the nuclear facility at Fort Calhoun is essentially an island. It is surrounded by rising flood waters from the Missouri River. I love the ocean especially by my jetty in Belmar. But is Fukushima, which we hear nothing about anymore, killing our oceans and will it be the worst disaster known to us human kind? How much of Japan will be inhabitable? My friend in Seattle, a psychic, keeps telling me about cracks in the earth’s surface (and earthquakes); one 500 foot crack developed in Michigan recently.

Arizona fires.

The fire in Arizona consumed 500,000 acres and saddened me; I’ve climbed red mountains there a dozen times. I left my heart out west; that’s why I want cabin life in Montana; big blue sky away from the maddening crowd. “Hey Ma, why do I let all this stuff swirl me around?” Maybe if Captain America would ask me, under a starry western sky, to join him around a joint camp fire, but I’d have to tell him it doesn’t work on me and to put it back in his handlebars. Too much rationality and sensibility fight cerebral recreation.

I just came in from outside. I love shoving 10:30 PM summer air into my lungs; I was back in Newark, sitting on a stoop, smoking a ‘punk’ which was nothing more than a lit stick that scared Jersey mosquitoes away.

George Reeves. TV Superman

The stoop gang looked up at the stars and wondered about the television ‘Superman’ George Reeves, dying the way he did. I hear the ‘Book of Mormon’ is now sold out for five years and I could’ve gone to previews. Pandora now has comedians. Earlier this afternoon, I flicked on the television and watched an HBO documentary ‘Section 60;’ the story of a section at Arlington National Cemetery where America’s most recent war dead from Iraq and Afghanistan lie in a quiet patch of ground. Families, friends and military comrades visit the gravesites. Such powerful visual stuff. Link to Documentary web site:

‘Section 60’ Documentary Link

Sure Ma, this was a serious blog. I think its time for Youtube and ‘Abbott and Costello’ “Who’s on First” routine.

Abbott and Costello ‘Who’s on First’ Routine

Often I’ve pondered writing like this, but thirty years ago, expressing what’s out the window, down the block, but I don’t think I could’ve back then without internet infusions and confusions. I’m a product of changing digital times, Belmar jetties, Google, Facebook, anti-oxidants, the Constitution, and Montana cabin dreams. If I were a songwriter, I would’ve written the lyrics for the aforementioned notions by this morning followed by two aspirin. Have a nice first day of summer. Quick thought; I wouldn’t have to move the clocks back or forward in my Montana cabin.

CONTACT INFORMATION

website: http://vichywater.net

Facebook: Cal Schwartz

Twitter: Earthood

Book Trailer(hey its only 65 seconds, Ma):

Vichy Water book trailer

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June 14, 2011

A World of Barbed Wire Last Friday. More on Living to 100 to 150 years. More Absurdities and Extinctions. ‘Widiculous’ Wisconsin. A Movie Review: “An Unmarried Woman” (yup, it’s from 1978 but….) June 14, 2011

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: amusements, asbury, jackie, quotes, robinson — earthood @ 3:07 pm

South Pacific. It was quite controversial back in the early 1950's

It’s dizzying; all the input, media, social networking, cable news. And speaking of cable news, one of my favorite musicals was ‘South Pacific’ and the character, ‘Lt. Joseph Cable,’ a Marine who arrives on a fictional island from Guadalcanal to take part in a secret mission. Last winter, I saw the musical in Newark at NJPAC. In 1947, James Michener wrote a short story collection ‘Tales of the South Pacific’ which of course became the musical. What is it, when I hear Michener’s title, something pulls, fills me with deja-vu, and takes me there in the mid 1940’s. I’m on that island; beholder of glorious sunsets, pastel waters, enemy low flying aircraft, loading up supply ships, and sneaking off to Bali Ha’i when no one is looking. How enduring the musical memories; my parents sitting on the sofa listening to their new Hi Fidelity recording, planes flying low and noisy into Newark Airport (prop planes, by the way) and the ‘Good Humor’ ice cream truck with ringing bells, hawking their new ‘Toasted Almond’ bar.

a barbed wire world last Friday.

I’m dizzy now and was last Friday when I went back for the fourth time to this place of barbed wire and incarcerated non-violent human beings, all American citizens. An ongoing phenomenon for me as I travelled to the shiny wire; was how I seemed to notice the most minute details of my surroundings, as if preparing my senses for hard, dull abstractions of life etched in cold bitter blood. The Jersey Turnpike is undergoing construction and adding more lanes; I wondered why, when roads are originally built, extra few lanes are not built when costs are so much cheaper; anybody with a Texas Instruments calculator or slide rule can compute extreme population growth and road usage leading to vile Jersey bumper to bumper traffic. Cumulous clouds were fluffy and white overhead as I passed a few farms with an occasional silo; how I always wanted my own silo and barnyard. I’m tight walking on a fence just before falling into the mud by the pigs. A hand reaches down to help me up. Good old ‘Huck’ is such a reliable, loyal old friend to me and Dorothy. As I got closer to the barbed wire, my mind kept firing away into strange random streams of consciousness. A motel on the left had five rooms; no air conditioners protruded from shaded windows and a sign on the dirt apron said, “Welcome Home Soldiers.” A newspaper blew in front of me; I could swear the headline read, “Japanese Bomb Pearl Harbor.” A patch of blue sky appeared overhead, just as I thought, that within six months after our troops leave Afghanistan, that mountainous country could all fall down to the insurgents; so would everything be in vain? Next thought was the same for Vietnam. Government/military ‘no- trespassing’ signs were affixed to barb wire fences. Speed limit signs were strictly adhered to by me.

its amazing what a wig and shades can do for ID photo or a Halloween party. autographed pictures on request.

Credential check point time; I knew the routine. Picture ID. I wanted to use (as a joke) my old ID pix from twenty years ago, when I looked like Howard Stern (long hair). Gun in a holster of a mean looking officer made me show a current ID; then I drove down a black brick road. On either side of my SUV were strange two story barrack buildings and an eerie silence beyond the walls of wire that I could almost touch. Another photo ID check; I was in a large room with metal seats and stools in three long rows; a far wall was lined with vending machines (vending White Castle Hamburgers could be micro-waved). Hugging was allowed. TastyKake, a Cherry Coke and a strained smile next. I heard that his friend, a couple beds over had died a few days ago amidst complaints about chest pains and no medicine (takes weeks to get a prescription filled); no voices anywhere (no one cares) or “7 on Your Side.”

What bothered me the most; the strained smile implicit of so much he couldn’t say. And you’ll notice how little I say. An 82 year old mother, grey and frail, drives down from Connecticut every week to visit and play cards with a son. They sat a few dark green benches away from us. No air conditioning at all; no fixing of broken fans and no complaints or they’ll shut them all off. No humanity and dignity. Strange fear and sadness, invisible; an infant born after incarceration, visits a young father. Then I asked myself, what was I doing here? Then I was about to answer myself, reaching to touch my friend’s forearm. They say if you’re doing a survey on the streets of Manhattan and you want to get respondents, just reach for someone and gently touch and ask for their help. If you touch, they’ll probably help. If you’re about to shoot a foul shot, and a team mate gently pats your butt, you’ll be elevated to play harder. The subtleties of human relationships and kindness; for me I was visiting because loyalty is such a wonderful human condition and too often, I feel far out west, near California’s Death Valley and there are no people around, no extant family, only strewn bones of carcasses from random indigenous animals. It’s just lousy not to have anyone that cares. Mendacity is mind stifling and bending.

I thought I saw a covered bridge in New Jersey

Homeward bound, I took a slow route, and stared at agrarian New Jersey landscapes, small ponds, more silos, imagined wheat fields and pretend Bridges of Madison County (I’m a guy but one of my favorite bitter sweet movies) and most of the time, I felt it was 1943, simpler times, when America didn’t have more people incarcerated than the rest of the world combined. Next time, I bring a camera like Clint Eastwood in the movie and take show and tell pictures. Do I need to buy a pick-up truck? Hey, ‘Life Magazine,’ I’ve got a whole bunch of your mildew magazines in the basement. My mother said they’d be worth a lot of money one day. Of course she threw out all my comics and baseball cards.

Once upon a time in Michigan, I went to a lecture about equal justice; what I learned was, it’s better to be rich and guilty than poor and innocent in America. A bit of heartening from my perch of solitude and reflection: California will release or transfer 46,000 inmates from their prisons over the next two years as the Supreme Court upheld a decision form the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals to alleviate overcrowding; I saw for myself last Friday here in New Jersey under white cumulous clouds.

Bryan Stevenson, Executive Director of the Equal Justice Initiative

On Saturday, I took yet another webinar on aging and living long. Of course, I tongue and cheek it, when talking about living to 100 or 150 years old. On the other hand, in thirty years, many Homo-sapiens will live that long; of course, politically speaking, with shortages on food, energy, water, drugs and plastic garbage bags, who’s going to get the opportunity? A white dove, fighting a blowing wind, just landed on my newly shingled garage roof, and cryptically told me, that the very rich and powerful (the ones who pay the least taxes, coincidentally) will live the longest. Practically speaking, there are a few things we should all be doing. Treat your telomeres right. Telomeres are the tips of the chromosomes which protect it from damage. As you age, the tips get smaller and cells eventually die. Studies have indicated that a 70 year old who exercises massively, has telomeres as long as a thirty year old. Exercise may be the fountain of youth. Diet right. Take supplements. One of my futuristic idols (RK) takes over a hundred supplements a day; I take forty for the last forty years. Look into anti-aging medicine. Develop the right life style. Manage stress. And yup, you need the right attitude. I could write 200 pages right now; perhaps I’ll take a slow metered approach and continue to throw some things out every week. Top foods to eat: Spinach, salmon and fatty fish, nuts, olive oil, red or purple grapes, tomatoes, green tea and garlic. I take daily supplements of green tea, garlic, omega 3,6 fish oil, lycopene (tomatoes) and resveratrol(skin of grapes). Here’s Dr. Oz’s age calculator. I nailed 97 years.

DR OZ’S AGE CALCULATOR:

http://www.doctoroz.com/videos/how-long-will-you-live?sp_rid=MTQzNDQ2MjY0S0&sp_mid=1709699

‘More absurdities and extinctions’ is a favorite part of the blog; like a Barrett Browning 43rd sonnet, I’ll count the ways and fire away. While writing this last night, I alternated between glimpses of the Republican Presidential candidate debate all the way from my den, eating a small bowl of new Cinnamon flavored ‘Cheerios,’ (perhaps its not that healthy overdosing in oats. ‘They Shoot Horses Don’t They?”) and mediating daily comments about this blog.

Presidential candidate Michele Bachmann

Michele Bachmann managed to sneak in the much anticipated announcement about her earlier declaring for the Presidency while she was answering a different question; seems a bit tacky and opportunistic. Every candidate attacked the President but no one really mentioned a definitive plan how to succeed in business without really trying; too much of nothing said, for my tired and worn pair of neutral, non-committed auditory canals. Tell me something substantive not stupid.

Republican National Committee head Reince Priebus. I have to bite my lip

Speaking of stupid segue; not ever in my earthly journey to ocean jetties of meditation or red mountains in Arizona for spiritual enhancement, have I ever witnessed a more despicable display of a double-standard thinking clown in a suit as Republican National Committee head Reince Priebus. I’ve got no political party affiliations. Priebus was outspoken calling for Democrat Anthony Weiner to resign. Weiner committed no crime. But when asked on Sunday why he didn’t call for Republican Senator David Vitter to resign when Vitter solicited and paid for a prostitute (indeed a crime) he just evaded. As an independent voter, I get so turned-off to double standards and evasion.

And Priebus went to the University of Wisconsin, the same state that is governed now by ‘King’ Scott Walker of the end of micro-breweries and collective bargaining Walkers and where the end of Medicare (Paul Ryan) breathed a first breath. More from the wacky world of ‘widiculous’ Wisconsin (a governor gone wild?): There’s a proposal that revises child labor laws to end the prohibition on minors under age 18 working more than 40 hours or six days a week. So a sixteen year old can work 66 hours/week for below minimum wage in a secret munitions factory? Absurd?

Governor "King" Scott Walker of Wisconsin

Before I slip into a rabbit hole this morning, I’d love to see the end of investment banks trading oil. And Pennsylvania is looking for a law to prohibit teachers from striking. But I like Ohio’s Governor Kasich, who wants a state resolution making the Dallas Mavericks honorary Ohioans for beating ex-Cleveland Cavaliers Lebron James’s Miami Heat for the NBA title.

When I was a kid growing up in Newark, New Jersey, some of the older, cool, tough guys, with cigarettes dangling, used to tell nerds like me, stories of how they played chicken with a bus, when they were bike riding or later in a car. Go head-on towards a bus and see who veers away first. Nerd-hood kept me from entertaining thoughts of duplicity. “Rebel Without A Cause” had a ‘chicken scene.’ I’ll never forget James Dean or that scene. Why bring it up now? “Cause,” I just thought about the debt ceiling getting raised or not and how skillfully the two parties will play chicken with us and not a bus right up until the ‘which-ing’ hour. Larry Summers, economic advisor, said we need more stimulus and Greece has just achieved the lowest credit rating of any nation. What if they go bus(t)?

More absurd but good (I think): A pool-playing robot has been developed by researchers at the Technical University of Munich, Germany. The robot has two arms that can move in seven different ways. Cameras mounted above the table track the position of the balls and cue and feed this information to the robot’s computers. Then it decides on the best move and calculates how the arms should be oriented to complete the stroke. To get into position, it rolls around the table using predetermined coordinates. It had an 80 per cent success rate. I wonder what ‘Minnesota Fat’s’ success rate was? And it is a brave new world. Apple plans to build a new campus with a circular building that looks like a spaceship, big enough to house 12,000 employees, scheduled to open in 2015.

almost extinct Sumatran tiger. it hurts.

almost extinct Bactrian camel. it hurts too.

Now to serious stuff. Only 400 Sumatran tigers are left in the world; fewer tigers than sheets in a package of all purpose paper. The Sumatran tiger is classified as “critically endangered;” on the brink of extinction and barely hanging on. They’ve lost 93% of their habitat because companies like Asia Pulp and Paper (APP) are destroying their forest homes. I wonder who buys their paper products. Nestle? Kraft? Unilever? Tigers are left to roam where they are easily slaughtered by poachers for their body parts or shot by the people moving in; perhaps Google “Greenpeace.” There are 300 Asian lions and 950 Bactrian camels left on Earth. And yup, by the end of the century fully half of all earth’s animal species will be extinct. Why do I dwell? Well, I just finished reading an article on ‘The Science of Optimism.” It’s actually built in for us to think everything will be alright.

Mount Rainier is one of the most iconic landmarks in the Pacific Northwest. Like many other world mountains, this volcanic peak is losing snow cover at an alarming rate. A new study has revealed that Rainier has lost 14% of its permanent snow cover over the last 38 years. And I think of Joplin, Missouri and intense storms and global warming and all the skeptics who think warming is fiction or a game of chicken. I think we need ‘Cher’ to slap us all hard and say, “Snap out of it!” Hey, go watch her do it. Take five seconds. Love you tube.

Mount Rainier. its snow is almost extinct.

Cher and Nicholas Cage from 'Moonstruck' snap out of it

Finally, my movie review: On Sunday night, in the throes of restlessness at 1 AM, I flicked the channels with my remote (I think the remote ranks right behind Penicillin) and found “An Unmarried Woman” starring Jill Clayburgh, Alan Bates and Michael Murphy. Oh, I’ve seen it many times before, but each time another rivet to my appreciation on what a timeless, dare I say riveting, breathtakingly real story of a perfect life being shattered when Jill’s character, Erica’s husband leaves her for a younger woman in New York City.

a 5 second video of Cher telling Nicholas Cage to “Snap out of it”

When I watch a movie I try to suck in every minutia of timeless scenery; trucks passing by, people in a park stopping for ices, a jogger, the east river, an art gallery or the faces of brunch people in a brunch place. Every detail of city life and Erica’s pain and growth is wondrously painted by the director/artist Paul Mazursky. I love that movie and city.

Here’s what really got me. Erica had a fifteen year old daughter in the movie, Patti, beautifully played by Lisa Lucas, who’s now really 52 years old. And I had just begun my second marriage when that movie came out. But that little teenage girl is now 52 years old! So I thought lying in bed, it felt like ‘Cher’ slapping my face and telling me to “Snap out of it!” My head swirled and I couldn’t get back to sleep. This blog was brewing. How not to age, use every moment to grow and think, to ponder loyalty to friends, animals, Earth and to wonder, what if I met Lisa Lucas somewhere, would I know what to say? Right now, I can say to her, she helped me grow up (not older) a bit.

CONTACT INFO:

website: http://vichywater.net

Facebook: Cal Schwartz

Twitter: Earthood

Book Trailer(65 seconds) : http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qj2ko9gcC_M

Comments (1)

June 7, 2011

Synchronicity, Spirit and a Wooden Beam in a Brooklyn Apartment Building. A Politician’s Career Should Begin in the Womb (foibles) Chocolate. HBO Film Review: “How To Die In Oregon” DDAY. June 7, 2011

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: jackie, john, manila, quotes, robinson — earthood @ 6:05 pm

DDAY landing. June 6, 1944

Iwo Jima Flag raising

I’ll never forget. June 6th, 1944. DDAY. Fourteen months later I arrived. Fourteen hours ago, I walked outside under New Jersey stars; a clear, cool late spring night. Last year, during one of my late night walks (I call them constitutionals. Just like President Truman did) a shooting star streaked overhead. Last night, thoughts of my late parents streaked; strangely, I thought about what they were thinking when it was time to conceive me. The world was still in a terrible war. What if? Phillip Roth wrote a novel about that.(‘The Plot Against America’) Were my parents concerned about my future being born into a world of war and uncertainty? Was the notion of ‘me’ postponed because of Pearl Harbor? They did wait, practicing birth control, until DDAY and the beginning of the end of the war. When war news continued to get better, then it was my time. But every year at DDAY, I remember the greatest generation and their sacrifice

I see Iwo Jima and the flag rising; Normandy, Juno and Omaha Beach and the greatest invasion. For inexplicable reasons, sometimes I’m on the beach at Guadalcanal and Tarawa, digging in, holding the position until reinforcements come. More strangeness; I’ve been saying for a long time how I’d like to visit Guadalcanal and personally thank our soldiers who are buried there. I even wrote about this bucket thing in my novel. John Basilone (1916-1945), who was inducted into the New Jersey Hall of Fame Sunday night, also fought on Guadalcanal.

John Basilone, Medal of Honor, Purple Heart and Navy Cross

Esther Williams swimming in black and white water

Sometimes it is a hard rain and just as hard to find a way to begin writing my weekly blog. Frankly, it’s this input thing. Virtually 24/7, my auditory and visual senses and processing lobes are over-absorbing from things plugged into the wall (both floors of my house have sockets); so my head is constantly swimming; what the hell do I talk about?

When I was around eleven years old, Esther Williams, the actress and swimmer had a television special where she was swimming in black and white pool water. My grandmother, in a wheel chair because of diabetes, wheeled herself over to the TV and touched the screen to see if it was wet from the water. She couldn’t understand why the water was not leaking onto our carpet; all of which leads me to a couple of my favorite ‘if only;’ if only George Washington and my Grandmother could see us now (with all the plugged in appliances, air travel but not necessarily the state of politics).

Speaking of George Washington (segue time) and of conception (mine, five months after DDAY) here comes the judge and the blog topic about a politician’s career beginning in the womb. I’ve got a toy holster (with extra long belt) that I just ceremoniously strapped on to make a creative point. Pretending to be eleven, I’m just going to aim the toy gun at the Rio Bravo saloon doors, hoping the bad guys and robber barons come out with their hands-up. Political aroma seeps out of the air vents and electrical sockets all over Jersey.

Firstly, recently, I went to a fund raiser for “Big Brothers Big Sisters” at a local country club; $30 ‘donation’ at the door was for a buffet of fancied-up chicken nuggets, mozzarella cheese and Jersey tomatoes and some kind of pasta that got lost in translation. A local mayor (political person) arrived for the photo op and when he was told about the $30 admission for the fund raising benefit, he said something about being Mayor; he was told he still had to pay. Mr. Mayor abruptly left with a small entourage and went next door to a local bar and drank the night away; so much for Big Brothers Big Sisters and donating to a good human cause.

Last year, I attended a Jersey shore environmental conference and met the mayor of a Jersey shore town which coincidentally was featured in my recent novel. I told him that. He said I should send a copy (free of course) to his office. What ever happened to images of starving authors? Are there starving mayors in New Jersey? Next up, John Edwards who ran for President; but I’m done.

Newt Gingrich. Presidential. Timber!!

Governor Christie and the Helicopter(almost sounds like a children's book)

Then there’s Newt Gingrich who’s now running for President who dumped wife #1 for wife #2 while wife #1 was actually still in the hospital recovering from cancer surgery. He eventually dumped wife #2 for wife #3 shortly after wife #2 was diagnosed with MS back in 1999. And he was having the affair on wife #2 with wife #3 while he was rampaging all over America trying to drive Bill Clinton from office during his ‘thing.’ Then, there’s Arnold Schwarznegger. Then, there’s Donald Trump (In an earlier blog, I said he’d never run even though I auditioned for ‘The Apprentice’). Trump said, “I employ a number of people that happen to work in this country. I don’t send it overseas.” During the June 6 edition of ‘Fox News and Friends’, he also said: “We’re destroying our country. We’re destroying our economy. We’re outsourcing our jobs. We’re not making products any longer. If you look at products, they’re being made in China and many other countries. And it’s really very sad what’s gone on.” Trump’s own line of men’s wear, the Donald J. Trump Signature Collection, is manufactured in China. Other pieces are made in Mexico and Bangladesh. Oh, then there’s Senator David Vitter who solicits a prostitute (illegal?) and gets re-elected and Senator John Ensign who resigns because of a mountain(of problems).

Then, there’s Elliot Spitzer, former Governor of NY and Jim McGreevey former Governor of New Jersey. Speaking of New Jersey, we’ve got Governor Chris Christie who campaigned and delivered an almost heartless and brutal, take no prisoners, cut spending, and leave the rich alone, austere fiscal policy. The State Supreme Court last week yelled and told him to give back funding to poor school districts. Last week, he took a state police helicopter, at a cost to taxpayers of $2500/hour, to his son’s little league game and back to his governor’s mansion to meet with rich Iowa people who want him to run for President; State business, right? Some of Christie’s fiscal toughness I liked. Could he really be a genuine politician/leader? Is he for real and honest, a refreshing example of a new breed of get-tough politicians who might run for President someday? Far from being a political analyst, I was comically disappointed but not surprised when his image ‘team’ including the State Police chief tried to smooth over this embarrassing episode(so much for Presidential timber), even having the temerity, to say it didn’t cost the state taxpayers anything as the helicopter pilots need the practice flying time anyway. Christie is just another windy, what’s in it for himself, politician; no magic in them there hills. Confession: I wondered about a President from New Jersey; our last one, Woodrow Wilson.

Video of Sarah Palin(33 seconds) and how Paul Revere warned THE BRITISH

Then, there’s Sarah Palin, who said over the weekend, Paul Revere warned the British on his famous ride (no further comment). Then, there’s beleaguered Governor Scott Walker (last week’s blog) of Wisconsin who’s now pushing new legislation that will destroy the micro brewery industry in Wisconsin – thanks to the mega donations that Anheuser-Busch, Coors, Miller etc. made to his campaign.

Governor "King" Scott Walker of Wisconsin(trying to take away micro-breweries to help big breweries?)

Congressman Anthony Weiner (no comment)

A few minutes ago, Anthony Weiner confessed having on-line relationships (twitter) with six women he never met. And he probably had a wonderfully promising political career. I’ve said enough. Point of all this being; if I were starting a family and entertained the notion of my child going into politics, I’d begin training and molding the embryo about two months after conception; child still in womb. Enthusiastically, I’d whisper to baby in womb, that for the rest of your days in life, you need to do and say everything right. You must think about every word, action, cause and effect. You must be consumed with fair play, morals and leadership. Every second must be to build and grow as a leader. Think of every consequence and constituent. Don’t ever throw all that hard work away; a career is born when you are. Never give Newt Gingrich and the media an opportunity to throw (cast) first stones.

This blog has been around for 18 months; (in 12 countries) sort of like two human gestation periods back to back. Elementally, (my dear Watson) I’m a stream of conscious purveyor of words, yet I’ve managed to stream clear of a critical component of my cellular composition; a confounding, haunting spirituality. Truth be told, I’d need about 300 pages now to bring you all up to date with this spirit stuff. Much happened to me innocently, virginally (in that regard), partly beginning back on February 24, 2004. I was taken into another world (sounds like a television soap opera, which one day soon will become obsolete, making room for ‘enough already’ reality shows). This is all I’ll say right now about spiritual origins (I don’t want to over stay my wordy welcome), but within the walls and confines of my second novel, which I’m working on, I’ll have the lay of land and time and space continuum to tell ‘this haunting story.’ But and it’s a significant ‘but;’ I’d like to throw a spiritual synchronistic teaser out there; my head is still spinning, digesting the meaning of a celestial message. Remember part of the title of this blog: “Synchronicity, Spirit and a Wooden Beam in a Brooklyn Apartment Building.”

An ascension of sorts took place last weekend for me and my gal (wife). We ascended the tree of life, climbed to our nest, gently lifted our son out of a computer, video game and television laden nest and cast him to a summer west wind blowing towards Brooklyn, New York. Alas, Mr. De Mille, I’m now a central Jersey empty nest denizen. We moved my son (had him around for 1/4 century) last Saturday into his apartment in Williamsburg. The apartment building is a completely renovated three story edifice in an area inhabited by only ‘under thirty-year olds;’ a living futuristic novel. The three room mates and families were busy carrying a myriad of boxes, computer paraphernalia, speakers, dishes, guitars and enough blue jeans to supply ‘Old Navy’ for a month. At the end of a long hallway is a new elevator. Next to the elevator was a very old thick wooden beam, probably from fifty years ago, seemingly supporting the building; the owners opted stylistically to leave this relic of a beam intact creating a blend of old and re-new. I walked by the first time and slapped it, to test endurance. Eleven trips later, waiting for the elevator to fetch me up, looking all around at my son’s new surroundings; I noticed writing etched on the beam. In strange disbelief, I stared at my son’s name, Neil and my name, Cal and a few other undecipherable words. I don’t even know what to write anymore about that; its way past odds and coincidences; its part of the story of my life, hauntingly witnessed with goose bumps on the side.

The magical mysterious old wooden beam in Brooklyn. I'll never be the same.

Late last week, sort of late in the afternoon, psychic energy doing a number on my premature power nap REM sleep patterns, ‘tossing and turning'(in 1964, this was also the name of a British album by the Ivy Leagues) I remote controlled the television on, flicked channels until ‘something’ made me stop on a HBO channel, and saw a movie/documentary just going on, “How to Die in Oregon.”

Movie Trailer for “How to Die in Oregon”

Trying to compose a tune after discovering that beam.

Did you ever watch the first few minutes of a movie and know you may have to see it; I was glued, stuck, intrigued and then joined by my wife. A few more minutes, we looked at each other and I said, “Do you really want to see this?” She said, “No.” I said, “Me too.” But we continued to watch. She went downstairs but I still watched. The story was about death with dignity; people in Oregon, with a new progressive law, can take their own life legally, if their medical situation warrants. So the lives of several memorable people (late term cancer) heading down that road were documented. Notably, the film making was poignant, detailed and wonderfully sensitive. I can’t stop thinking about Cody Curtis, real, alive, warm and now gone. I ran downstairs for a spot of seltzer; my wife was watching the movie. One scene towards the end, filmed at dusk, a dark black-blue sky, voices from inside a house, a lone leaf blowing gently in an invisible wind, moved me the most. Enough said. Here’s the movie trailer. Oh, a few days ago, Dr, Jack Kevorkian (Dr. Death) passed away.

Dr Kevorkian

How about chocolate time? (a Calvin euphemism for lightening blog things up). Back to the future and my aspiration of living to 150: A fair amount of research suggests that the ‘flavonols’ in dark chocolate increase cerebral blood flow, which in turn may trigger the creation of new blood vessels and brain cells. And a new study showed that older adults performed better on cognitive tests after eating small portions of the dark sweet stuff. That’s why, before writing my blog, I munch a bunch of 70% dark chocolate. (The piece I just ate was flavored with Chili, making it spicy; go figure) A new study showed that regular chocolate eaters who had heart disease were less likely to die following a heart attack compared with the people who didn’t treat themselves to dark wonderful chocolate.

Also major new research findings about treating nasty cancers: A drug made by pharmaceutical giants Roche and Daiichi Sankyo reduces the risk of death from melanoma by 63% – if the skin cancer tumor has a particular mutation. A Pfizer lung cancer treatment awaiting regulatory approval keeps lung cancer patients alive longer, if they are in the small minority and have a very specific genetic defect. Two clinical trials that have been presented at American Society of Clinical Oncology’s annual meeting in Chicago showed it is possible to pick drugs for patients using a panel of genetic tests. This is a huge giant step, like the real moon landing. A few blogs ago I talked about living to 150(after seeing Dr. Michio Kaku and hearing Ray Kurzweil).

Dr Michio Kaku("Physics of the Future") and me

We’re getting closer; just that we’ll need so many more tennis courts. Of course, I worry about the survival race (not reality television) we’re in (on a lot of fronts). How about the race to sustain food production on a warming, demanding, over-crowded planet? Or the race to move to high ground as ice melts. Did I hear about a sewage treatment plant near Boston that moved to higher ground in preparation?

Now some ramblings: Last year the oil spill in the gulf; a few months ago the disaster in Japan (and admitted meltdown in 3 reactors); both now out of the news and our consciousness and replaced by Anthony Weiner. Now Chile has a volcanic eruption, Iceland, a few weeks ago (my nephew ‘J’ cancelled a trip there) and I recently watched a video with a scientist predicting a “9” earthquake in the Pacific Northwest; a 30% chance in the next fifty years. More ramblings: the flooding in our mid-section, the tornadoes in the same mid-section and I thought I saw a locust in my backyard this morning.

Iceland Volcano

I’ve got notions and potions about all this stuff in the news thanks to the crystal ball of my friend Ruth in Seattle. I just took a huge deep breath. Suddenly, I thought about an old friend, ‘Reckless Ostrich.’ It’s been a while. I’m such a sentimentalist, hopeless romantic and dreamer. I took a hard look at this empty nest situation. A breath of synchronicity eased me down the yellow brick road and out of the tree where the nest was perched. Now I ponder cycles of life; an embryo that I can whisper to and teach how to become a good leader. Does the concept of empty nest presume that next ‘grand’ stage in life? Then I can get back to teaching and going to see ‘Santa Claus’ in the mall. I just hate waiting in long lines.

CONTACT INFORMATION

website: http://vichywater.net

email: earthood@gmail.com

Facebook: Cal Schwartz

Twitter: Earthood

Book Trailer (65 seconds. please check it out)

‘Vichy Water’ Book Trailer

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Vichy Water – Author's Blog Just another WordPress weblog

June 28, 2011

Whitewater Rafting. How Green Is My Valley, Mind, State (NJ)(an environmental topic). Modern Absurdities. Welcome to Asbury Park(NJ). June 28, 2011

June 21, 2011

Father’s Day (thoughts from a New Jersey jetty in 1955). Celebrating the ‘geographic’ Jersey Shore. Why I Think About a Cabin in Montana (political escapism or cerebral asylum?) Atlanta Radio Vitriol. Another movie review: ‘Section 60.’ Clarence Clemons Remembered. June 21, 2001

June 14, 2011

A World of Barbed Wire Last Friday. More on Living to 100 to 150 years. More Absurdities and Extinctions. ‘Widiculous’ Wisconsin. A Movie Review: “An Unmarried Woman” (yup, it’s from 1978 but….) June 14, 2011

June 7, 2011

Synchronicity, Spirit and a Wooden Beam in a Brooklyn Apartment Building. A Politician’s Career Should Begin in the Womb (foibles) Chocolate. HBO Film Review: “How To Die In Oregon” DDAY. June 7, 2011