Once again without dwelling much, I apologize for the gaps in blog timeliness. I needed to give Linda Chorney(Grammy Nominee for Best Americana Album) interview/BLOG exposure time because of her exceptional achievement. I met Linda this summer as a by-product of Facebook and social networking. Love her music and spirit. Fierce loyalty is a wonderful rarified quality. So I express myself. I even tried sending my words of Linda Chorney introspection off to Los Angeles and a media institution but alas, they’re more interested in inane and banal and guest celebrities who fight on airplanes.
Oh by the way a wonderful music video to watch starring Linda Chorney:
Sometimes I feel like(when I deal with people who rise to the ranks of senior editor and whose cerebral centers of imagination and intellect has shriveled up to resemble an indigenous California prune) like on old man on the Caspian Sea, in a leaky old wooden row boat. I dig the Caspian Sea, the largest enclosed body of water on earth. I suppose if this senior editor would’ve given me a shot, because my words matter, I might have vacationed this summer on the Caspian, fished for old bottles with messages inside, perhaps one from my friend Linda Chorney.
So it’s a day after Christmas and all through my house not a creature is stirring. A cooking show is on in the den. Prodigal son went to visit best friend, passing by the place that makes chicken nuggets in packages of five, and does not use ground up frog legs as filler and does not flavor fries with a meat stock. But I don’t approve of advertising sea salt. Salt is salt and it kills. Meanwhile there are 46 million Americans on food stamps and many Port Authority (Lincoln Tunnel) cops who work overtime make over $200,000 a year. I know when I find that inviting worm hole and slip through and get a chance to do it all over again with a few tweaks, of course I’ll come back as a Port Authority cop and never give up being away at college, living in an apartment with a bunch of guys, partying and growing, in order that someone close might have that same chance. Blood is thicker than water. No it isn’t. It’s a fixed roulette game in Atlantic City. Forest Gump’s mom said, “Life is like a box of chocolate. You never know what you’re going to get.” The words work for familial confections as well.
So what’s the deal with this dude, virologist Dr. Ron Fouchier of Erasmus Medical Center in Rotterdam, who wants to publish a paper describing how he can make a virus that can kill millions? The paper he’s written — along with another one on H5N1, with comparable results, by a team led by virologist Dr. Yoshihiro Kawaoka at the University of Wisconsin, Madison and the University of Tokyo — is currently under review by the U.S. National Science Advisory Board for Biosecurity, which could recommend it not be published, but has no authority to block it. And I want to be an old man on the Caspian Sea and some readers of my blog might think I’m not all there.
I’ve been a weekly blogger and my readership has grown exponentially. But almost on a daily basis, I’m evolving into a variety of journalistic pursuits and I’m being pulled in wonderful directions so my blog has been bounced. But I’m back blogging, like the ghosts inside the television on Poltergeist which, by the way, has me contemplating busts of homer and movie projects. I love cryptic on the day after Christmas. Cryptic is nice; so is rice. This is fun stuff Mrs. Miniver. Here we go. A not so bumpy ride into streams of consciousness over the past few weeks; some folks call it whitewater rafting which I do every summer now with a gang from Rutgers.
I’ve been reading Steve Job’s bio and of course am haunted by something (oh wow. Last words?). Hard to explain but he was an awesome presence on this earth. Yes, I wish I went to high school with him in California. Sad to see Christopher Hitchens, Vaclav Havel, Anne McCaffrey, Andy Rooney, Gil Scott-Heron, Arthur Laurents, Dwayne McDuffie; all people of words and ideas who passed in 2011.
Now to my being Santa Claus; Some 20 years ago, a few weeks before Christmas, while I was in the throes of my optical eyeglass salesman career, I got a phone call from Jersey’s largest independent optical chain store’s buyer. She started off the conversation by asking me what I was doing on the following Tuesday night. I’ve learned those phone words uttered by family, friends or business associates usually mean major imposition, perhaps picking someone up at the airport or attending some drone’s honorarium dinner. I replied back without a moment’s hesitation as Pavlov has been a hero of mine for decades, “Oh next Tuesday I’m leaving for the Soviet Union on business. But what did you have in mind?” I was curious. “Well Calvin, we had an executive meeting to plan our corporate Christmas party and we tried to figure out who could be our company Santa Claus and everybody screamed your name.” I was intrigued how a tall lanky brown haired eyeglass salesman could be imaged as a Santa by corporate executives. In a few moments, I announced the cancellation of my Russian trip and my willingness to be Santa to 200 employees provided they suit me up the right way, with a strapless white beard and stomach enhancement. And so a few days before Christmas, at least a hundred optical employees sat on my lap while I carefully interrogated each one to determine whether they were good or bad and if bad, then how so and then I presented each with their company holiday wrapped gift, an all-purpose monogrammed umbrella; a functional protective utilitarian gift. I was in communicative heaven, basking in the joys of versatility and holiday spirit. No one saw anyone kissing Santa that night; my enthusiasm was unbridled and it felt uplifting wishing everyone, “A Merry Happy Healthy (which I’m doing right now). I was invited back the following year with no planned Russia trip. Bottom line; I was a good Santa.
A few weeks ago, I journeyed to Asbury Park’s Tides Hotel where Lorraine Valente gave a lecture on past life regression. The hotel was curiously transporting me back to 1955. I heard the Everly Brothers singing, ‘Bye Bye Love.’ A fireplace warmed and bar invited; a sumptuous crab cake sampling was offered to guests. Who does this anymore? In the fifties, they washed windows and checked oil and tire pressure. The Tides really had me back to 1955. Lorraine Valente carried me to old America before Columbus. Between her and my friend Ruth from Seattle, an accomplished psychic and the longings and strange feelings I’ve had for a long time that seem to emanate from Sedona, Arizona, I need to further explore my Native-American past. Here’s the deal, since I’m a reporter/journalist for NJ Discover TV. Down the road a bit, I’ll have Lorraine or James Guinta hypnotize me on camera and we’ll all go exploring. I’ll keep you posted.
A few weeks ago, I was at Monmouth University at a “9-11-A Ten Year Perspective” Lecture. Former NJ Governor Tom Kean spoke eloquently about his time as Chair of the 9-11 Commission. It occurred to me while I was absorbing Kean, that perhaps the greatest compliment that can be paid to a politician is to be thinking “I can’t tell what political party affiliation he was.” Of course it simply means that his words and deeds translate to what’s good for the people. I love Tom Kean (never realized until now what an amazing caring public servant). He said the commission made 41 recommendations and 10 years later nothing has been acted upon. Surprise surprise. A heckler stood up during the question/answer period and said he was a former cop and had heard that the dust from the WTC had traces of explosives. Kean calmly reminded about all the conspiracy theories. Finally, after fifty long years, I got to talk to Governor Kean as I interviewed him on NJ Discover TV. Then I made an informal presentation which was quite emotional for him. I’ve been carrying around, holding securely, a picture of Kean’s father, Congressman Robert Kean and me standing next in the Capitol rotunda from 1957, as part of a Boy’s Club of Newark trip. He was rather touched as I was.
On November 30th I was at Cloudforce 2011 at Javits, New York City along with 5000 other followers of Salesforce.com and Mark Benioff learning about cloud computing so that once again my cerebral outposts are enhanced. This constant running around absorbing is part of what I’ve been blogging about for two years; living to 150 years. You need to expand and grow if you’re going to be around; it’s that simple. What did I come away with? Mobile, cloud computing and social networking is the future. No more bricks and mortar or wire hangers.
Red Bank, NJ. December 1st. Clearview Theatre. I took a TV cameraman and interviewed the director/writer Sean Guess and actors and Danny White who performed a song for the movie, ‘Nothing for Christmas;’ which had its world premiere that night. It was a stirring, emotional and surprisingly well-acted movie along the lines of ‘It’s A Wonderful Life.’ I pinched myself. Look where I was, mixing it up with writers, directors, singers, actors.
This living to 150 gig is working; it pushes, motivates and drives me, mostly because I’m not even close to mid-life age as we speak, as long as I’m subscribing to going for the top rung. “You got to believe,” was the 1973 NY Mets battle hymn. It’s Monday afternoon. My wife is calling from the den, “Calvin, I haven’t seen you in weeks with your running every day. You promised a nice dinner after Christmas.” She’s right. I keep running, dreaming, writing and reporting so I’m blogging down for the day. Sugar plum fairies dancing around, stockings drying out in the nearby laundry room from recent indoor tennis, a story heard earlier about some new breed of dog that chases creatures not stirring, even a mouse. Pavarotti is now singing ‘Adeste Fideles’ on YouTube. Did I ever blog about watching Pavarotti for three straight hours singing ‘Adeste Fideles’ from Montreal in 1978? Well here’s the link.
And yes I have obsessive-compulsive tendencies. But that’s alright. It’s Christmas and Holidays. So a Merry Happy Healthy Holiday and all good things (Kennedy used to sign off like this) I’m excited. I get to watch Alastair Sim in ‘A Christmas Carol’ several times this week. In my annotated book, the only Scrooge there ever was in this or any old town. I think the scene with Alastair Sim on Christmas morning as he came to his senses after a night with the ghosts and when he stands on his head as an expression of sheer joy and rebirth is as poignant a scene as Hollywood ever created in this or any old movie. When the Today Show comes a calling, I’d like to recreate that scene. Of course someone has to hold me up. What shall I have for dinner? I see lots of crisp lettuce and a Happy New (full) Year in the future.
CONTACT INFORMATION
website: http://vichywater.net/
Facebook: Cal Schwartz
Twitter: Earthood
book trailer. hey its 65 seconds long
IMPORTANT LINKS
If on Facebook check out this NJ Discover site:
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000125711074
ARE you in search of another blog that is also outspoken, unique BUT refreshingly, topically unbridled which means uninhibited ???? Meet LINDA CHORNEY:
http://lindachorney.wordpress.com/
Immortality Institute (which represents advocacy and research for unlimited lifespan)
http://www.imminst.org/
LINKS TO VIDEOS. Please Watch.
1. ZOMBIE WALK October 22, 2011
2. VETERANS DAY NJ VIETNAM MEMORIAL
Nov 11, 2011
Veterans Day at NJ Vietnam War Memorial
3. RANDALL HAYWOOD & JAZZ CONCERT
Nov 19, 2011
Randall Haywood and Victor Jones Interview from Chico’s House of Jazz Asbury Park