Somalia: I’ve been blogging about it ‘subliminally’ the last month. No more subliminal. A few weeks ago we hit the beach at the Jersey Shore with an old Newark high school friend, wife and daughter. Friendship began during Eisenhower’s last year in office and wrapped up in September, 1963 when Michael went to Rutgers, New Brunswick(was it really called the ‘Berkeley’ of the east referencing Rutgers’ free speech movement involvement?) and I was sent to Toledo; thus began our drifting apart which lasted through 35 years and a few wars. At a Weequahic High School 35th reunion, we fittingly reunited and now share bonds of being Rutgers alumni (I made it to Rutgers, Newark in 1965). In April, 1963 my friend Michael mailed (without a stamp) a forged, concocted letter indicating I’ve been asked to represent America in a basketball tournament overseas. You can imagine my jubilation until my father pointed out the fabrication. Now we laugh about his practical joke.
On the beach under an increasingly cloudy sky, we invited Michael and family to dinner. Three hours before they arrived, I accompanied my wife to Wegman’s food market for supplies and ammunition (wine). Once a year, I make it into that store as I’m not from the shoppers and care little about food, preparation, presentation or origins. When I stopped eating red meat in 1975, I soon discovered that lettuce is lettuce and people are people; lettuce has the same taste on top of the 66th floor as in a basement cafeteria. Walking into the vastness of Wegman’s, I gasped while barely able to see to the other end of the store while millions across southern Somalia abandoned their homes looking for food. My wife said, “Just push the cart, stay close and don’t throw any impulse things in.” And a man carried his two children on his shoulders during their hundreds of miles trek eastward for food. When he realized they were dead, he stopped to bury them. Our first stop in what I call a boutique food market experience was produce.
Presentation is everything; there was even a display for shucking corn (shucks?) and fancy containers (garbage cans) for depositing silks and excesses. Fruits and vegetables as far as myopic eyes could see; some varieties actually looked GM (genetically modified, not the car company) or props from the movie, “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids;’ huge succulent fruits and vegetables.
Grocery stores take in $470 billion a year. Wegman’s carries 70,000 items as compared to the industry average of 40,000. The number of Somali children with severe acute malnutrition was 170,000. Droughts in Somalia used to occur once a decade; now every two years. Climate change? While Somalia has a famine producing drought,New Jersey has been socked by the rainiest August in history and the lines of food buyers at Wegman’s in preparation for impending storms have been as bad as the gas shortage lines of 1973. I had a Volkswagen back then and had the temerity to attempt illegal siphoning and caught a gaseous mouthful because I didn’t know what I was doing. Somalia has a war going on which complicates food deliveries. A little boy in a shopping cart was fighting with his mother in front of me. Two bags of bite size branded chocolate candies were adeptly swiped off a shelf while cart was in slow motion and another bag fell to the floor; the woman picked it up yelling, exposing a flowery tattoo. That was enough for me; I walked down the vitamin aisles. Living to 150 years, I’m always looking for better mouse-trap organic anti-oxidants. Meanwhile, my wife called me on the cell phone to find out where I was.
Western famine aid agencies are fearful because of unrest and fortify themselves near the airport where relief food is flown in. Three weeks after the UN declared a famine (and several flights of food arriving daily) food had yet to make it out of the airport (Mogadishu) to a refugee camp 300 feet away. When supermarket check-out food lines are long, a loud-speaker calls for more cashiers up front. Dinner with Michael and family was sumptuous; they left after 1 AM. At 2 AM tossing and turning, I came downstairs to my computer and read more about Somalia. I don’t know. I don’t know. There, I said it twice and I feel strangely helplessly empty.
My wrists hurt; rope burns? Google just announced they are buying Zagat’s restaurant review, which services millions of readers and reviewers who love to talk about their favorite restaurants. Google wants to be closer to us. While I’m on a foodie roll here in Western Monmouth County; ‘Whole Foods’ is coming to town near Wegman’s and rumor has it that ‘Trader Joe’s,’ another upscale food store is also thinking about coming here; people love to eat and spend middle-class money. A ‘Costco’ just opened a month ago near me with humongous industrial sized packages of food. Word on the street, how successful they’ve been, spread like a wildfire, so perhaps ‘Trader Joes’ wants a piece of our food fight pie. The WFP (World Food Programme) tweeted back in August that their airlifts will bring enough high-energy biscuits to Eastern Africa to feed 1.6 million people. They later clarified the tweet; the 1.6 million people would be fed for just one day and that airlifts were not to Mogadishu. A few of my friends were ecstatic about ‘Trader Joe’s.’ I think they tweeted their followers with this news that’s not really fit to tweet. I just rubbed a soothing balm on my wrists.
This just in, keeping with ‘food theme’ of the last paragraph; ‘Kutsher’s Tribeca’ is a new restaurant, opening soon in Tribeca, New York City, taking its name and heritage from Kutsher’s Hotel in the Catskill Mountains. A hotel son, Zach Kutsher got the idea to bring it to life. Expect matzoh crusted chicken and other traditional modernized foods.
The blog title says OUR TOWN/Barfly newspapers. I should formally acknowledge that I’ve become a columnist for a new dynamic Monmouth County newspaper; my beat; music, theatre, jetties, culture, art, film, eclectic people and happenings throughout the county. Funny thing forum wise: I’ve been partaking all along. The Barfly section features local bar/music/sports-viewing scene. Another funny thing; in the past, I’ve referred to my youthful accomplishments/milestones relevant to the ingestion of beer in Olympic style events; keg stands and beer pong. A picture of me keg-standing is herewith included. It should also be stated that these undertakings are strictly for the purposes of bonding with the millennial generation (younger than springtime and letters x, y and z?); all part of a grandiose picture and favorite pursuit; living to 150 years (you have to believe); ergo do young things.
Who said, “You have to believe”? Jerry Dandridge (Chris Sarandon) said those words in 1985 ‘Fright Night;’ an enjoyable horror fantasy that my son and I watch all the time; part of my keeping up and young. They just remade that movie. We’re not talking about 1939 ‘Wuthering Heights’ being remade. ‘Fright Night’ is 25 years old. Hollywood can’t come up with originality; maybe budget constraints. Speaking of budgets, enough states are turning to expanded casino gambling for added tax revenue. Governor Cuomo in New York is looking at non-Indian casinos; same thing in Chicago. Now back to the 150 year future.
This 150 year gig has been a regular feature of this blog from inception. As a sophomore back at Rutgers, I decided not to age traditionally. So what is written here is practiced. A long time ago (13th century) the English philosopher Roger Bacon wrote that aging is caused by the progressive loss of vital spirit. To extend life span, he advised old men to spend time in the company of young women. He was right about aging and the loss of vital spirit. Biologists at USC discovered major declines in the availability of an enzyme, known as the Lon protease, as human cells grow older. The finding may help explain why humans lose energy with age and could point medicine toward new diets or pharmaceuticals to slow the aging process.
A few weeks ago, after careful research, I joined the Immortality Institute (which represents advocacy and research for unlimited lifespans)
Please explore their website: http://www.imminst.org/
There’s a brave new world out there. A few weeks ago I went to a lecture with Ray Kurzweil, futurist, genius and Dr. Michio Kaku, astro-physicist, genius and an array of intellects. Bottom line: If we can make it the next fifteen years intact, then with knowledge (and computer chip’s power) dramatically increasing, we’ll really be able to get to 150 years with quality of life and abundant tennis court time. Maybe grow a new liver or heart when you need it (in an hour?) Thing is, you have to begin understanding prospects and realities; start fighting for your right to live to 150 years and way beyond.
And I’m not Rod Serling or some strange dude sitting on the wing of an airplane. Jump into the Immortality Institute, jump off a sofa or easy chair and open mind. In 2005 Kurzweil published ‘The Singularity is Near’ where he writes that in the not too distant future, the human brain may be uploaded to a computer. Jumping around a bit more, there’s some buzz about lemons (citrus) not liking cancer. More cancer info( if no cancer, 150 looks better): Dana-Farber Cancer Institute scientists have successfully disrupted function of a cancer gene involved in forming most human tumors by tampering with the gene’s “on” switch and growth, rather than targeting the gene itself. The results, from multiple myeloma cells, offer a hopeful strategy for treating not only myeloma but other cancer types driven by the gene MYC. But who decides who shall live?
On Wednesday night I went to a Long Branch business networking party to support ‘Kick Cancer Overboard.’ Got a chance to meet a bright, effusive, energetic young man running for Monmouth County,N.J. Freeholder (Bill Shea).
I love youthful exuberance, idealism, sincerity and beginnings of a new promising political career. And I never look at red or blue just content of character. In a couple of months John Dean is coming to Rutgers University to talk. Here’s my John Dean dilemma story. In the waning months of my first marriage, in an attempt to save it, we took a few weeks off and hit three capes on vacation; Cod, May and Hatteras.
The summer of 1973: John Dean is testifying in the Watergate Hearings while we’re inCape Cod. Heavy rain all week so I stayed in the motel room glued, watching Dean’s power of total recall (telling Nixon “that there was a cancer growing on the presidency and that if the cancer was not removed the president himself would be killed by it.”) The mind of Dean fascinated me; so did Watergate; and so did Nixon telling America he wasn’t a crook. And my marriage was washing away as I absorbed John Dean and wife Maureen sitting right behind him (a show of support that I never got). My marriage ended when “the leaves that are green turn to brown” (from a great Simon and Garfunkel song) )see below for YouTube link to song)
All these years I’ve wanted to tell John Dean that he’s a hero of mine. Ben Bradlee was my hero too; (‘All The President’s Men’) Editor of The Washington Post. I got to tell Bradlee my hero stuff a few years ago. When John Dean appears, the Rutgers Women’s Basketball team play Boston College at the same time. I don’t miss many Rutgers teams playing; a palpable dilemma. “We’ll see,” my mother used to say as a deflection.
Last night I went to a preview showing of the documentary “Rebirth,” at the Count Basie Theatre in Red Bank, N.J.
(For more information: http://projectrebirth.org/
The film, wondrously directed by Jim Whitaker, documents the lives of five people impacted by the events of 9-11 from 2002 to 2009. It’ll be on Showtime. I was riveted and for a rarified time in the life, I hardly moved for the entire full feature length; my knees frozen imbedded into the soft fabric of a rare empty seat in front(my cuticles reddened). I just spoke to my son living in Brooklyn and suggested he come home for the 9-11 remembrance weekend. He said, “Dad, I have to live.” He’s right. I’m kind of blitzed right now; Somalia. 9-11. Think now I need to pour a little borscht (that red beet Russian soup still popular in Europe).
Streams of consciousness move me. A reckless ostrich is in my garage, scratching on the kitchen door, wanting to come in from the cold. I hear Lenny Bruce and Richard Pryor cracking jokes; they make me laugh. I need that. Laughter is the best medicine but it doesn’t take reality away. Strange: this morning while playing doubles tennis in a local park, I heard bagpipes. And it was hard to play after that. I missed a few balls, staring at blue sky; the exact same sky as a decade ago. I always blog about sitting on my Belmar, N.J. jetty, watching ships head to Kilimanjaro. Now, suddenly, I wish all those ships were heading to Mogadishu, Somalia. I’ll keep wishing that while rubbing more anesthetic balm on my wrists.
Contact Information:
website: http://vichywater.net
Facebook: Cal Schwartz
Twitter: Earthood
Leaves That Are Green (Simon and Garfunkel): You Tube
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IZid4klb9OU
IMPORTANT LINKS:
Immortality Institute (which represents advocacy and research for unlimited lifespan) http://www.imminst.org/
August 2011. Guest on Alicia Cramer Show (podcast) “Thin Healthy Happy” :
http://wausauhypnotherapy.podbean.com/2011/08/02/calvin-barry-schwartz-interview-on-living-life/
ARE you in search of another blog that is also outspoken, unique BUT
unbridled which means uninhibited ???? Meet Linda Chorney:
http://lindachorney.wordpress.com/
really nicely designed. I bet that is why you get so much traffic!
Comment by Carmine Bainer — September 18, 2011 @ 11:08 pm
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Nancy
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Comment by KIRK FORNEY — January 4, 2012 @ 12:20 pm