My youngest daughter purchased a new car a few days ago.
Her previous vehicle still had a balance due on the loan with Capital One. You know them they are the bank that ask's; What's in your wallet?" The question is a good one because if you listen to their commercials, you think they are promoting their credit card and their better way of doing business. The reality is that they really want to know what's in your wallet, because they are scheming how to take it!
Back to the story... The dealer is paying off the note. Consequently, the monthly electronic funds transfer payment that is due to come out of her bank account on May 28 needed to be cancelled. Since the account is in my name, I called Capital One and spoke with one of their Vikings. They told me that they needed 6 days notice to cancel an EFT and that I should contact my bank to stop the payment. ( Six days? You could sail from Norway, raid and pillage a small city in America and return to Norway in that amount of time. ) So Stef dutifully went to National City Bank this morning and asked them to stop the transfer. She was informed by the bank Ogre, that she would be charged $29.00 to file a stop payment request, and that there was no gurantee that it would actually stop it. Further, Miss Congeniality explained that Capital One would likely hit her account for an additional $30 for failing to honor the EFT. So now her $150 payment is up to $209.00. On a vehicle that is actually paid off. The best part of the NCB incident however is that when Stef decided NOT to pursue the stop payment, the NCB Ogre, actually admonished her for making additional work for her, as she had already initiated the stop payment and would now have to "come in on Tuesday, and file a cancellation of the stop payment in order to prevent the $29.00 charge". Excuse me honey... but that's why they call it work.
Being the supportive Dad that I am, I deposited $150 into Stef's account at NCB so that when the Vikings raid her account on Tuesday she will at least avoid the "insufficient fund" charges of $39.00 plus $8.00 a day, that NCB would have charged her due to Capital One requesting the EFT, and the NCB Ogre, not getting the work done, because she was too busy discussing American Idol with the troll at the door.
Anyhow... Are you sick of being treated like crap by Banks? I know I am. I have a solution. We just have to beat them at their own game. If you want to hear about my plan, get in touch with me through this blog. Together we CAN make a difference and take our lives back from Capital One, National City Bank, Bank of America, and all the rest who are victimizing us with fees and rates that make the Vikings look like Care Bears.
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
I want to be perfectly clear
Today is Peace Officer Memorial Day.
The U.S. Flag in front of my house is flying at half-staff in honor of fallen police officers. NOT Jerry Falwell.
The U.S. Flag in front of my house is flying at half-staff in honor of fallen police officers. NOT Jerry Falwell.
Sunday, May 06, 2007
Thinking things through
I was in our local hardware store yesterday. As I walked in, I noticed one of those signs on the door, a handgun in a red circle with line through it, along with the warning that guns were prohibited.
The store owners son was there, so I thought I would engage him in a little mind exercise by asking him about the sign. I asked; "Let's say I'm in the back of your store, and I hear some commotion coming from the cash register area. I discover that someone has a gun to your cashier's head. The perpetrator is agitated, and making no sense, is obviously a threat to the cashier's life and the other customers in the store. No one can get to a phone to call the police. I have a perfect vantage point. I am concealed and covered. A perfect position to do something...however, because I obeyed your request and did not "carry" into your store, there is nothing I can do. Have you ever thought about that type of scenario?" The store owner's son, looked confused then said; " I just put up the sign, 'cause I was told to."
I'm not a gun-toting advocate of arming the entire society. I do have a brain however and I like to use it occasionally to think about life's possibilities in a rational way. It was obvious that this store owner, like so many other store owners, arena managers, park supervisors, college administrators, and etc. had not thought things through.
The law abiding individual who takes the time to take the necessary course work, apply for, and take the necessary tests, be finger printed, have their background checked, and pay for a license to carry is not a threat to the public. They have been well educated in the potential emotional issues that would inevitably follow a shooting. They know the legal and financial risks that would come from lawsuits and legal defense. They are the individuals who will respect the wishes of the merchants who post the "no carry" signs.
Will the criminal respect those signs or use them merely as a guide for locations that have less risk of intervention?
The store owners son was there, so I thought I would engage him in a little mind exercise by asking him about the sign. I asked; "Let's say I'm in the back of your store, and I hear some commotion coming from the cash register area. I discover that someone has a gun to your cashier's head. The perpetrator is agitated, and making no sense, is obviously a threat to the cashier's life and the other customers in the store. No one can get to a phone to call the police. I have a perfect vantage point. I am concealed and covered. A perfect position to do something...however, because I obeyed your request and did not "carry" into your store, there is nothing I can do. Have you ever thought about that type of scenario?" The store owner's son, looked confused then said; " I just put up the sign, 'cause I was told to."
I'm not a gun-toting advocate of arming the entire society. I do have a brain however and I like to use it occasionally to think about life's possibilities in a rational way. It was obvious that this store owner, like so many other store owners, arena managers, park supervisors, college administrators, and etc. had not thought things through.
The law abiding individual who takes the time to take the necessary course work, apply for, and take the necessary tests, be finger printed, have their background checked, and pay for a license to carry is not a threat to the public. They have been well educated in the potential emotional issues that would inevitably follow a shooting. They know the legal and financial risks that would come from lawsuits and legal defense. They are the individuals who will respect the wishes of the merchants who post the "no carry" signs.
Will the criminal respect those signs or use them merely as a guide for locations that have less risk of intervention?
Monday, April 30, 2007
Hooray, Hooray
Tomorrow is the first of May.
It always makes me think of Marge. Marge was a woman who I worked with for years. I mentioned her in this blog last year when she passed away. She was a unique individual. She worked her ass off and would make sure you knew it. She would do anything for you, was faithful to a fault, and she knew who she was. There was a wrong way to do things and there was Marge's way. She loved the Pittsburgh Steelers. She loved a good stiff drink ( or multiples thereof). Her favorite "superstar" was Eddie Rabbitt ( does anybody else remember him?)
Anyhow... every year on the first day of May, Marge would come into the office and yell;
"Hooray, hooray, it's the first of May. Outside intercourse starts today!
So in memory of Marge... Tom, Ilona, Rob, MaryEllen, Jan, & anyone else reading this blog who knew Marge; Make sure you yell it tomorrow. In fact... even if you didn't know Marge... yell it anyhow. You would have liked her.
It always makes me think of Marge. Marge was a woman who I worked with for years. I mentioned her in this blog last year when she passed away. She was a unique individual. She worked her ass off and would make sure you knew it. She would do anything for you, was faithful to a fault, and she knew who she was. There was a wrong way to do things and there was Marge's way. She loved the Pittsburgh Steelers. She loved a good stiff drink ( or multiples thereof). Her favorite "superstar" was Eddie Rabbitt ( does anybody else remember him?)
Anyhow... every year on the first day of May, Marge would come into the office and yell;
"Hooray, hooray, it's the first of May. Outside intercourse starts today!
So in memory of Marge... Tom, Ilona, Rob, MaryEllen, Jan, & anyone else reading this blog who knew Marge; Make sure you yell it tomorrow. In fact... even if you didn't know Marge... yell it anyhow. You would have liked her.
Saturday, April 07, 2007
Global Warming
When I was in the fourth grade, our teacher ( Mr. Shane) spent a substantial amount of time teaching us about the environment. Mr. Shane was ahead of his time in many ways. Having an interest in the environment is just one example.
I remember being both fascinated and terrified at the information that he provided us regarding the pending condition of life on the planet Earth. Of course his information was not self-manufactured, he had done substantial research and everything he spoke about was backed up by what was being reported on the news and in print.
Bottom line... The Earth was cooling too fast. Additionally, it was predicted that by the time we would be seniors in high school (1972) there would be no more gasoline.
I'm really not in much of a mood to write alot today, so I will provide a photo to make my point.
Today's date is April 7, 2007, and this is the view out my back door in "Sunny" Cleveland, Ohio
Saturday, March 03, 2007
Do the math
According to the most recent Citibank commercial, 6 people have their identity stolen every minute.
I did some quick calculations on this and encourage you to do the same.
My point being... if this is true, then I should know at least one person who has had their identity stolen.
By the way... if someone wants mine they can have it. Based on Citibank's claim, sometime in the next 10 years I will end up being someone else anyhow.
I did some quick calculations on this and encourage you to do the same.
My point being... if this is true, then I should know at least one person who has had their identity stolen.
By the way... if someone wants mine they can have it. Based on Citibank's claim, sometime in the next 10 years I will end up being someone else anyhow.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Cuckoo for Coco Puffs
I know it has been awhile since my last post. I apologize to my regular readers. I haven't been feeling particularly inspired to write.
This morning I was watching the Food Network with our youngest daughter and then it struck me...I have been missing out on the latest trend in creative presentation. So beginning now, I am adding a new feature to my blog...Not to be outdone by Rachel Ray and the rest, I will be from time to time posting my culinary tips...
Today the topic is cereal;
I like to begin by selecting a bowl. I recommend a bowl that is not too big and not too small. You want to be able to put enough cereal in the bowl to provide a satisfying meal, but not so much that by the time you get to the last spoonfull it has all gone soggy.
Next is the spoon selection. I find that a standard spoon is just too small. I like to use a soup spoon. Generally, it will help prevent spillage while providing the maximum amount of cereal to appropriately fill your mouth.
Cereal selection is important but is so personal that I will not even try to address it here.
I have found that placing the cereal into the bowl is the most effective way to prepare the cereal. Then depending on whether or not it is pre-sweetened, you may or may not want to add some sugar.
My daughter likes to use skim milk. I don't even like the sound of it. It just looks like somebody washed out the milk bottle and poured the rinse into her bowl.
I suggest instead a mix of 1 part half & half cream and 2 parts 2%. The 2% milk is lowfat and satisfies my wife that I am trying to cut down on my fat intake, while the half & half makes the whole presentation palatable.
So, there it is... sit down and enjoy...cereal in 1 minute.
That's it for today... next time I will discuss Toast...White or Otherwise
Bon Apetite ( did I spell that right?)
This morning I was watching the Food Network with our youngest daughter and then it struck me...I have been missing out on the latest trend in creative presentation. So beginning now, I am adding a new feature to my blog...Not to be outdone by Rachel Ray and the rest, I will be from time to time posting my culinary tips...
Today the topic is cereal;
I like to begin by selecting a bowl. I recommend a bowl that is not too big and not too small. You want to be able to put enough cereal in the bowl to provide a satisfying meal, but not so much that by the time you get to the last spoonfull it has all gone soggy.
Next is the spoon selection. I find that a standard spoon is just too small. I like to use a soup spoon. Generally, it will help prevent spillage while providing the maximum amount of cereal to appropriately fill your mouth.
Cereal selection is important but is so personal that I will not even try to address it here.
I have found that placing the cereal into the bowl is the most effective way to prepare the cereal. Then depending on whether or not it is pre-sweetened, you may or may not want to add some sugar.
My daughter likes to use skim milk. I don't even like the sound of it. It just looks like somebody washed out the milk bottle and poured the rinse into her bowl.
I suggest instead a mix of 1 part half & half cream and 2 parts 2%. The 2% milk is lowfat and satisfies my wife that I am trying to cut down on my fat intake, while the half & half makes the whole presentation palatable.
So, there it is... sit down and enjoy...cereal in 1 minute.
That's it for today... next time I will discuss Toast...White or Otherwise
Bon Apetite ( did I spell that right?)
Saturday, February 17, 2007
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
What might have been
I received a copy of the book; "McDonald's - Behind the Arches". Very interesting book about the history, the company, and it's system of operation.
Early in the book, the author is discussing the original McDonald brothers; Richard and Maurice, who were known as " Dick & Mac". While reading this, it occurred to me that this must have been the origination for the name of the sandwich; "The Big Mac"...
It was probably a good thing that they chose to honor Maurice instead of Richard.
Friday, December 22, 2006
Merry Christmas to All!!
Following is a reprint of my post from December 24, 2004…
My uncle Paul was a war hero. He was never recognized in that fashion by the world, but I know he was a war hero. He was a part of the greatest generation. He helped save the world during WWII. He was a fun loving man, a devoted father, brother, husband, son, uncle and friend to many. He died too young, probably from injuries and illnesses he received during the war. He was Santa Claus when I was a child. I didn’t know it then, but when I became a teen-ager I found out that he was Santa Claus. The last time he was Santa, I was ten years old. I remember that Christmas, specifically because that was the year my parents gave me a slot-car set. I don’t know why he stopped playing Santa. I know he didn’t always feel very well. Perhaps he merely wanted to pass the torch. My memories are becoming too foggy about these things. Twelve years ago when my son was 10, I gave him a slot-car set for Christmas. Oddly enough that year, my Aunt-Ann asked me to play Santa at our family’s traditional Christmas Eve celebration at her house. I have been Santa each year ever since. On Christmas Eve around 10pm, my cousin Laura will herd all the kids to the basement family room of Aunt-Ann’s home. Her brother and her husband will escort me to the second floor bedroom and help me change into my Santa suit. When I am ready and all the kids are out of the living room, I will go downstairs and out to the porch where I will wait until the kids are escorted back up to the living room. It amazes me that the little kids never question why they are being moved from floor to floor. But it is Christmas, and they are anxious to please, so they go. When they are all seated in the living room, someone will suggest singing a Christmas Carol. As this happens, I am standing on the porch and listen through the walls. Sometimes I peek through the window to watch my family. When I do, I see generations of love. I see tradition. I see time slipping by .I see memories in creation. When I get the signal from my cousin, I knock on the door and yell; “HO, HO, HO”. Then I make my grand entrance.
All the kids even the older ones sit on Santa’s lap and receive a small gift. Some of the adults sit on Santa’s lap. I am continually astounded by the fact that the kids can’t figure out who Santa is. Even my own children didn’t know until they were told. Maybe they choose not to know. My Mom always sits on Santa’s lap. He wishes her a happy birthday (She was born at 5pm on Christmas Day). She doesn’t see it, but Santa’s eyes are wet. When all of “the kids” have visited Santa we all sing another Christmas Carol then Santa exits through the front door wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. And that is it. My favorite, and the fastest 30 minutes of the year. Before I leave the porch, I look back through the window in the door…Though I hope I can play Santa for many more years, I know I will ultimately give it up to the next generation. I also know that whoever becomes Santa, will look back through the window and see the same things that I see; parents, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins, children, grandparents, and a war hero.
2006 footnote:
This is the first year that everyone is old enough to know who Santa is. We have only one new family member; Connor. Connor is my brother’s grandson. He is less than one year old, so Santa’s visit might be traumatic for him. None-the-less, Santa will visit just as sure as the sun will rise on Christmas morning. But Santa is magic…so who knows what else might occur…
My uncle Paul was a war hero. He was never recognized in that fashion by the world, but I know he was a war hero. He was a part of the greatest generation. He helped save the world during WWII. He was a fun loving man, a devoted father, brother, husband, son, uncle and friend to many. He died too young, probably from injuries and illnesses he received during the war. He was Santa Claus when I was a child. I didn’t know it then, but when I became a teen-ager I found out that he was Santa Claus. The last time he was Santa, I was ten years old. I remember that Christmas, specifically because that was the year my parents gave me a slot-car set. I don’t know why he stopped playing Santa. I know he didn’t always feel very well. Perhaps he merely wanted to pass the torch. My memories are becoming too foggy about these things. Twelve years ago when my son was 10, I gave him a slot-car set for Christmas. Oddly enough that year, my Aunt-Ann asked me to play Santa at our family’s traditional Christmas Eve celebration at her house. I have been Santa each year ever since. On Christmas Eve around 10pm, my cousin Laura will herd all the kids to the basement family room of Aunt-Ann’s home. Her brother and her husband will escort me to the second floor bedroom and help me change into my Santa suit. When I am ready and all the kids are out of the living room, I will go downstairs and out to the porch where I will wait until the kids are escorted back up to the living room. It amazes me that the little kids never question why they are being moved from floor to floor. But it is Christmas, and they are anxious to please, so they go. When they are all seated in the living room, someone will suggest singing a Christmas Carol. As this happens, I am standing on the porch and listen through the walls. Sometimes I peek through the window to watch my family. When I do, I see generations of love. I see tradition. I see time slipping by .I see memories in creation. When I get the signal from my cousin, I knock on the door and yell; “HO, HO, HO”. Then I make my grand entrance.
All the kids even the older ones sit on Santa’s lap and receive a small gift. Some of the adults sit on Santa’s lap. I am continually astounded by the fact that the kids can’t figure out who Santa is. Even my own children didn’t know until they were told. Maybe they choose not to know. My Mom always sits on Santa’s lap. He wishes her a happy birthday (She was born at 5pm on Christmas Day). She doesn’t see it, but Santa’s eyes are wet. When all of “the kids” have visited Santa we all sing another Christmas Carol then Santa exits through the front door wishing everyone a Merry Christmas. And that is it. My favorite, and the fastest 30 minutes of the year. Before I leave the porch, I look back through the window in the door…Though I hope I can play Santa for many more years, I know I will ultimately give it up to the next generation. I also know that whoever becomes Santa, will look back through the window and see the same things that I see; parents, brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles, cousins, children, grandparents, and a war hero.
2006 footnote:
This is the first year that everyone is old enough to know who Santa is. We have only one new family member; Connor. Connor is my brother’s grandson. He is less than one year old, so Santa’s visit might be traumatic for him. None-the-less, Santa will visit just as sure as the sun will rise on Christmas morning. But Santa is magic…so who knows what else might occur…
Monday, December 18, 2006
They say the military is not efficient...
I've been having some issues with my left knee. 15 years ago I had to have my anterior cruciate ligament replaced. Everything has been going along swimmingly until a couple weeks ago. Suddenly I am having a lot of pain and difficulty getting around. So finally today I went back to the Cleveland Clinic Sports Medicine Department ( they did the orginal surgery) to find out what is going on.
Turns out I have arthritis and am in the midst of a bad "arthritic episode". They issued me a brace and gave me some physical therapy routines to do. Other than that...pain killers are the answer.
Anyhow in my quest to find humor in everything, I noted the following; When I arrived for my 1pm Xray appointment I heard on the television in the waiting area that a high ranking Iraqi official had been kidnapped... My Xray appointment was pushed to 2pm. That of course moved my doctor appointment to "later". I finally got in to see the doc around 4. As I was going into the exam room, I heard from the television in the lobby, that the Iraqi official had been freed.
I spent more time in captivity than he did!
Turns out I have arthritis and am in the midst of a bad "arthritic episode". They issued me a brace and gave me some physical therapy routines to do. Other than that...pain killers are the answer.
Anyhow in my quest to find humor in everything, I noted the following; When I arrived for my 1pm Xray appointment I heard on the television in the waiting area that a high ranking Iraqi official had been kidnapped... My Xray appointment was pushed to 2pm. That of course moved my doctor appointment to "later". I finally got in to see the doc around 4. As I was going into the exam room, I heard from the television in the lobby, that the Iraqi official had been freed.
I spent more time in captivity than he did!
Friday, December 08, 2006
Imagine
I was never a huge Beatles fan. I liked them of course, but there were other bands that I liked better. I actually appreciated the individual musicians more as they went their separate ways.
December of 1980 was a special month for us. Our first child ( Melissa ) was born on December 6. After some tense weeks anticipating a c-section delivery we were relieved, ecstatic, and exhausted in the days immediately following her birth.
Since Robin and Melissa were both in the hospital and I was running between home, work, and the hospital neither Robin or I paid any attention to TV. In fact we didn't hear of John Lennon's death until Robin's brother Scott called us from his home in Manhattan.
Melissa has such a strong love of music. Perhaps it is because we always had music playing in the house and car. We sing, and of course we sang to her even before she was born.
Melissa's musical tastes are eclectic to say the least. She would have been a Beatles fan. Especially in their 70's style. I'm sure that she would have loved John Lennon.
It is hard for me to believe that She as well as Tim and Stef grew up not knowing John Lennon as a living, creative force. It angers me that this was stolen from them and their generation.
A few years ago, Robin and I strolled through Central Park, and sat for a few minutes in Strawberry Fields. We looked across the street toward that fateful spot where John Lennon's life was stolen from him and from the world. I felt an emptiness. I am reminded of that today.
I often wonder what the great musicians of the world would do with today's technology. Imagine Bach with a sequencer. Imagine Beethoven with computerized notation software. Imagine Mozart with digital equipment and digital lighting controls. Imagine John Lennon having been able to finish the musical dreams within him.
Imagine.
Thursday, December 07, 2006
Sunday, December 03, 2006
What's in your walls?
I read an article today about a family in Vermont that discovered an original Norman Rockwell painting behind a wall in their fathers' studio. They sold the painting for several millions of dollars.
It might be a long shot, but I figured what the heck. If I don't look, I might be missing something. So I spent the day "examining" our house.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Big Brother is watching
“Big Brother” is watching us. But he is not alone. In fact, everyone is watching everyone.
Web cams, “red-light” cameras, traffic monitoring cameras, mini-recorders, electronic entry devices, cell phones, camera phones, video phones, police video cams… everywhere we go, everywhere we are there are people seen and unseen, who are viewing and recording our every move.
My daughter received a speeding ticket from a red-light camera that snapped a picture of her license plate as she sped through a Cleveland intersection at 4 miles per hour over the limit. The President is recorded by an unseen microphone as he holds a private conversation and his private statements become headline news. Your mug is recorded at the ATM as you make a withdrawal from your own bank account. (don’t pick your nose while waiting). The gaming tables in Vegas are viewed by the “eye in the sky”. Department stores have monitored their aisles by video for years. Caller ID tells us who is calling before we answer the phone. Parks, intersections, bridges, buildings & sidewalks are being monitored by web cams. If you are stopped by a police officer for a traffic violation ( or worse ) there is a better chance than not, that you are being video taped. And as if all of this isn’t enough; anyone with an up to date cell phone can record your actions on video and post them to the web before you even finish whatever it is you shouldn’t be doing!
Recently, former “Seinfeld” star; Michael Richards learned this lesson when he was captured by multiple cell phone videographers as he railed against a heckler at a California comedy club. Within hours this very disturbing video made it to the web and was viewed by millions thereby marring his reputation possibly beyond repair.
Could technology become society’s behavioral monitor? Perhaps the realization that “Big Brother” along with every other brother and sister ARE watching will impact our behavior as individuals.
I’m not sure if this is good or not.
Web cams, “red-light” cameras, traffic monitoring cameras, mini-recorders, electronic entry devices, cell phones, camera phones, video phones, police video cams… everywhere we go, everywhere we are there are people seen and unseen, who are viewing and recording our every move.
My daughter received a speeding ticket from a red-light camera that snapped a picture of her license plate as she sped through a Cleveland intersection at 4 miles per hour over the limit. The President is recorded by an unseen microphone as he holds a private conversation and his private statements become headline news. Your mug is recorded at the ATM as you make a withdrawal from your own bank account. (don’t pick your nose while waiting). The gaming tables in Vegas are viewed by the “eye in the sky”. Department stores have monitored their aisles by video for years. Caller ID tells us who is calling before we answer the phone. Parks, intersections, bridges, buildings & sidewalks are being monitored by web cams. If you are stopped by a police officer for a traffic violation ( or worse ) there is a better chance than not, that you are being video taped. And as if all of this isn’t enough; anyone with an up to date cell phone can record your actions on video and post them to the web before you even finish whatever it is you shouldn’t be doing!
Recently, former “Seinfeld” star; Michael Richards learned this lesson when he was captured by multiple cell phone videographers as he railed against a heckler at a California comedy club. Within hours this very disturbing video made it to the web and was viewed by millions thereby marring his reputation possibly beyond repair.
Could technology become society’s behavioral monitor? Perhaps the realization that “Big Brother” along with every other brother and sister ARE watching will impact our behavior as individuals.
I’m not sure if this is good or not.
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Where were you?
I was in Mrs. Cochran’s third grade room at the old Royalton Rd School. I don’t recall what time it was. I think we were in reading class. Mrs. Gold, the school principal turned on the school PA system and announced that school was ending early because; “ President Kennedy has been assassinated.” Mrs. Cochran had to define assassination for some of us. As she did you could hear gasps from around the room and other classrooms. Some of the girls started crying. Our teacher herded us quietly to the door and led us to our respective busses. On the bus the conjecture of conspiracy had already begun. The “older” kids ( 7th & 8th graders) were speculating that the Russians were responsible. Other than that discussion, the bus ride home was silent except for the gentle sobbing of children who didn’t thoroughly understand the ramifications of what had just happened. They understood only that an American hero was gone.
When I arrived home, my mom was crying. Some of the neighborhood mom’s were at our house. They were all crying. Mrs. Trimber said she had the worst headache of her life. She left in silence, as did the other mom’s. The TV was on. Walter Cronkite and CBS News was already narrating the surreal events surrounding this national tragedy. And it was a national tragedy. Like nothing anyone had experienced ( at least in our lifetime )…
They were different times. It was before television was in control of information. ( It was on its way, but not there yet) It was before the Internet or even the dream of an Internet. We still had faith in government. Those who voted for Nixon instead of Kennedy buried the hatchet before inauguration day, and the nation was united in support of the seated President. The position was one that was awarded respect despite the color of your state. Kennedy was young, handsome, and athletic. His wife was poised, beautiful, admired, and loved by a nation that was not yet addicted to celebrities. The White House was affectionately dubbed: Camelot.
Then came Dallas...
Flags were at half-staff, schools closed, businesses shutdown, social activities cancelled. The nation was glued to the TV for days watching and listening to Walter Cronkite describe play by play every event of the day. We watched in real time the transportation of the fallen hero from Dallas to Washington. We saw Jackie follow the casket as it was removed from Air Force 1. We saw his blood still on her dress ( which she refused to change ) . We watched LBJ sworn in as our new President. We watched as Lee Harvey Oswald, the accused killer was himself gunned down outside a Dallas police station. We watched his killer; Jack Ruby arrested. We viewed the casket on display in the Rotunda. We listened to Samuel Barber's "Adagio For Strings" played mournfully as we watched the rider-less horse lead the procession to Arlington. We watched “John-John” salute his father as the casket passed.
The world changed during those days. The questions began to rise regarding the “real” circumstances behind Kennedy’s death. Conspiracy theories about this event led to conspiracy theories about everything else involving our government. The television coverage of the event taught news producers how to cover such a disaster. The ratings of those broadcasts taught broadcasters just how hungry the population was for “instant” news. The media had been born earlier, but it came to age in late November 1963.
Eventually, our schedules went back to normal. Schools re-opened, business began their day-to-day operations again, and people went back to their social calendars. But everything was different... November 22, 1963 was the last day of an age of innocence.
When I arrived home, my mom was crying. Some of the neighborhood mom’s were at our house. They were all crying. Mrs. Trimber said she had the worst headache of her life. She left in silence, as did the other mom’s. The TV was on. Walter Cronkite and CBS News was already narrating the surreal events surrounding this national tragedy. And it was a national tragedy. Like nothing anyone had experienced ( at least in our lifetime )…
They were different times. It was before television was in control of information. ( It was on its way, but not there yet) It was before the Internet or even the dream of an Internet. We still had faith in government. Those who voted for Nixon instead of Kennedy buried the hatchet before inauguration day, and the nation was united in support of the seated President. The position was one that was awarded respect despite the color of your state. Kennedy was young, handsome, and athletic. His wife was poised, beautiful, admired, and loved by a nation that was not yet addicted to celebrities. The White House was affectionately dubbed: Camelot.
Then came Dallas...
Flags were at half-staff, schools closed, businesses shutdown, social activities cancelled. The nation was glued to the TV for days watching and listening to Walter Cronkite describe play by play every event of the day. We watched in real time the transportation of the fallen hero from Dallas to Washington. We saw Jackie follow the casket as it was removed from Air Force 1. We saw his blood still on her dress ( which she refused to change ) . We watched LBJ sworn in as our new President. We watched as Lee Harvey Oswald, the accused killer was himself gunned down outside a Dallas police station. We watched his killer; Jack Ruby arrested. We viewed the casket on display in the Rotunda. We listened to Samuel Barber's "Adagio For Strings" played mournfully as we watched the rider-less horse lead the procession to Arlington. We watched “John-John” salute his father as the casket passed.
The world changed during those days. The questions began to rise regarding the “real” circumstances behind Kennedy’s death. Conspiracy theories about this event led to conspiracy theories about everything else involving our government. The television coverage of the event taught news producers how to cover such a disaster. The ratings of those broadcasts taught broadcasters just how hungry the population was for “instant” news. The media had been born earlier, but it came to age in late November 1963.
Eventually, our schedules went back to normal. Schools re-opened, business began their day-to-day operations again, and people went back to their social calendars. But everything was different... November 22, 1963 was the last day of an age of innocence.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
My Thanksgiving diet
I decided this morning that I need to lose some weight before Thanksgiving. So, today I donated blood and got a haircut.
That ought to do it.
That ought to do it.
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
If you cook it they will come
I ran across another blog the other day that is being published by a friend of mine who at one time worked with me in the crazy world of entertainment marketing. Jennifer is an extremely talented woman with a wonderful Seinfeld type sense of humor.
Anyhow, she has launched her own communication company and her blog provides some insight as to how she works. The blog is: http://ifyoucookittheywillcom.blogspot.com/ I highly recommend it.
( Jennifer, if you are reading this, notice that I used the word "insight"!!)
Anyhow, she has launched her own communication company and her blog provides some insight as to how she works. The blog is: http://ifyoucookittheywillcom.blogspot.com/ I highly recommend it.
( Jennifer, if you are reading this, notice that I used the word "insight"!!)
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
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