Today's Inspiration

TEMPER YOUR PASSION WITH WISDOM. PARTY HARDY BUT USE GOOD JUDGEMENT IF YOU DRINK AND DRIVE. :)

photo: F LoBuono Times Square at the stroke of midnight, 2008.

Just For the Fun of It: Today's Pic

How cool are they!

photo: F LoBuono Haverstraw, NY

Follow up on DOTD: She keeps stepping in deeper.

Have you caught yesterday's Douche of the Day, Christine O'Donnell's act trying to explain her campaign finance woes? She made the rounds on all of the news programs. PATHETIC!! I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.

HAPPYHAPPYHAPPYHAPPY

To Foes and Friends. To Proponents and Opponents. To Winners and Losers. To Strangers and Family. to All:

HEALTH - HAPPINESS - JOY - FULLNESS - PEACE

FOR THE NEW YEAR

photo: F. LoBuono New Years Eve, Times Square 2007

Today's DOTD: Christine O'Donnell

Today's Douche of the Day is Christine O'Donnell. O' Donnell is well known for her failed attempt to win the U.S. Senate seat for the state of Delaware. She was a surprise winner of the state's Republican primary and was heavily supported by the Tea Party. With their help, she raised a state record of $7.3 million dollars in campaign funds. She is equally well known for her quirkish behavior such as her admission to "dabbling in witchcraft". Perhaps more disturbing than the quirks are the inconsistencies in her finances and background. In fact, she has not held a full time job in years and has difficulty in explaining just how she supports herself.

And this isn't the only thing that she has had difficulty in explaining. During the campaign, when she wasn't ducking questions on her qualifications to become a U.S. Senator, she was often overwhelmed by questions on domestic and international policy - you know, things that you would want a Senator to be versed in, like education, and the economy, etc. She hung her hat with the Tea Party mantra of don't tread on me. Well that, along with a pretty face and bubbly personality (sounds like someone else I know. Oh, you betcha, wink, wink!) is not enough to get you elected - at least not in most states! She was soundly trounced in the general election.

Now the AP reports that she is the subject of a criminal investigation by the Federal Government into misuse of campaign funds. Adding fuel to a fire that was started long ago, 2 former campaign workers have claimed that she used campaign funds for personal expenses, particularly to pay her rent.

Of course, O'Donnell made the talk show rounds defending her position, denying any wrong doing, and claiming the charges were a political witch hunt started by powerful democrats and disgruntled employees. Of course, she's right (wink, wink). I'm sure that this is the way the game is played when there is this much political power at stake. So, you'd better have all of your ducks in a row.

I have always thought that the slogan, where there is smoke, there is fire, is quite telling. And in O'Donnell's case, I'm choking on the damn fumes! She claims that, since she used her apartment partially as a campaign office, she was told that she could use her campaign funds to pay her rent (remember NO VISIBLE MEANS OF SUPPORT). Ah, dah, no! Sorry, that's against the rules. And you should know the damn rules! Besides, how are you going to support your constituency if you can't even support yourself!!

Look, it's beyond the fact that she is ultra conservative and I, obviously, am not. I have always appreciated a good challenge from an astute political opponent. But this woman is a boob! Yes, she may have some charisma. Yes, she may have some "charm". But she can't think her way out of a paper bag (I find myself winking again)! Do you REALLY want people like this running the country? REALLY?

I wish that she would simply just go away. However, this will not happen soon as she has already signed a book deal (interesting that this women who, apparently, rarely READS one should WRITE one - oh, I'm winking again). I suppose that will be the end of her money woes, at least for the foreseeable future.

Let us add to her honors by naming her Douche of the Day Christine O'Donnell.

PS: you can read more specifics at The Huffington Post website.

Brain Droppings: A Glamorous Position

Many of you have seen my photos of beautiful and glamorous Hollywood film stars. I take them at Red Carpet movie premieres using a small, cheap camera, as an aside to my regular duties as a cameraman for a major news organization. Although the people in the photos may appear appear glamorous, the assignment rarely is. In fact, you've heard me use the term "pig fuck" to categorize them. It's an industry term used to describe the scene; lots of grunting and screaming signifying nothing! But, mercifully, the assignment rarely lasts more than a few hours in total.

Then there are the assignments like we had this past week, during and after "The Blizzard of 2010". It usually involves standing in driving snow, howling winds, and subfreezing temperatures with a reporter who tells you not to "stand in the driving snow, howling winds, and subfreezing temperatures"! And the assignments usually last for 12-15 hours and, often, for days on end.

So, in this case, we are in Times Square. And, surprisingly, despite the blizzard outside, it's actually crowded with people, mostly tourists having a great time. Of course they're having a great time; they're on vacation, can walk to wherever they need to go, and have no particular agenda. Plus it is that rare occasion when the City is virtually shut down. If I were a tourist, I'd love it too!

But I'm not a tourist. I'm working. And that involves mostly standing in one place in the driving snow, whipping winds, and subfreezing temperatures for 12-15 hours. The amount of "live" reports we do for stations around the country are coming so rapidly that there is virtually no time to eat OR use the bathroom. At one point, we did manage to sneak off to one of the fine Times Square eating establishments and I got a McDonald's cheeseburger which I stuffed in my mouth and ate in about 2 minutes. As for bathroom use, after peeling back the 4 or 5 layers of clothing I was wearing in an attempt to stay warm, I peed in a cup in the back of the production truck. It's lucky I didn't pee all OVER the truck because I had lost the feeling in my finger tips about an hour before my "bathroom break" (let's not talk about the OTHER extremities. Think shrinkage) Oh, yes, very glamorous indeed!

Look, this is my job and I'm prepared to do it, not matter the consequence. I'm not asking for sympathy. What I am asking for is understanding. It pisses me off to hear people to talk about the "liberal-elite media" like we were some prima donnas making up the news to serve some personal or political agenda. Most of us are honest, hard working slubs who dedicate themselves to providing useful information (useful most of the times) as a matter of public trust. Me and countless others have stood in the driving snow, howling winds, and subfreezing temperatures (not to mention fetid water, gale force winds, wild fires, etc., etc.) to do our jobs. Very glamorous indeed!

DTOD: DJ Cipha Sounds

Today's Douche of the Day is DJ Cipha Sounds (real name Luis Diaz) of NY Radio Station Hot 97. During his Friday morning broadcast for Hot 97, Diaz (a.k.a DJ Cipha Sounds), made a statement that he thought his listeners would find funny. He claimed that "the reason I am HIV negative is because I don't mess with Haitian girls". Oh Cipha, that's just hysterical!

In the first place, there is nothing funny about HIV. No matter how you play it, I can't find anything funny about that disease. And this is coming from a guy who loves base humor like that found in "Family Guy" and "South Park"! I just don't see any humor coming from a horrible death.

Secondly, Haiti has more than it's share of problems. They are well documented. However, I have to say that virtually every Haitian I have met in this country is clean, industrious, committed to improving his standing in this country, and dedicated to his culture and heritage. I'm sure that this doesn't describe EVERY Haitian, but, from my experience, it applies certainly to the great majority (why Haiti itself is mired in abject poverty is a discussion for another day). So, they don't deserve such a derogatory statement like that, especially since its not warranted. He apologized but the damage was done.

So, for his callous and insensitive remarks, DJ Cipha Sounds is today's DOTD. Congratulations.

PS: The Haitian community rallied and demonstrated Tuesday morning at Hot 97's studios. DJ Cipha Sounds was subsequently suspended by the station.

Pic of the Day

Since it's about 25 degrees here, this is just to remind us what a sultry, summer evening can look like.

Enjoy and Merry Christmas. :)

Thought for the Day

60 Minutes did an extremely interesting feature on people who can remember every single day of their lives! How remarkable is that? My only concern is this:

Where does that leave me who has spent a great deal of time and effort trying to forget most of mine?! :)

For Your Pleasure

Gentlemen (and ladies too - but I'm sure that you'll understand): these are for you. :)

photos: The very lovely Jessica Alba at the Red Carpet Premiere of "Young Fockers", The Ziegfeld Theater, NYC.

F LoBuono

Christmas Message 2010

12/9/10

On Mortality

Death. The very word can send shivers up one’s spine. It certainly does mine. And there within lies my dilemma. How does one deal with his mortality? For certainly we all must die. “Death and taxes”, and “no one gets out of here alive” are just two of many phrases emphasizing the inevitable finality of it all. And because death comes to us all, it is the great equalizer. Great and small, rich and poor, all will have only two indisputably common moments in our lives: birth and death.

So why then give it more than a moments passing thought? No amount of reasoning or understanding will, when our time comes, add even one more second to our earthly existence. Yet, we think, philosophize, moralize, and spiritualize about it almost incessantly. Certainly religion itself owes its presence in our lives to our quest for answers about death and what it means in our daily lives.

For, as ironic as it may sound, death IS a part of our lives on a daily basis. One exists in, ultimately, perfect balance with the other. The Irish poet, William Butler Yates (1865-1939) captures this most eloquently in his poem, An Irish Airman Foresees His Death. The entire poem is magnificent but the final line embodies the essence of the message:

“I balanced all, brought to mind,

The years to come seemed waste of breath,

A waste of breath the years behind

In balance with this life, this death”.

It is certainly a heroic and stoic approach to mortality and one that I strive to achieve in my own life. I think that it’s important to accomplish this in terms not only of our own mortality but for that of the others around as well. I think it’s called peace of mind.

Most people achieve a certain level of this peace and comfort through religion and spirituality. Certainly, when facing the unfathomable premise of the end of our very existence with the end of our lives, believing in a system that provides everlasting life is certainly appealing. And it provides comfort, particularly during our most fearful moments. But this is about truth. It's about finding a path to a deeper level of understanding: to the very essence of what it means to be alive AND what it means to die. It means understanding that which cannot be understood. It means attaining what is unattainable. I suppose that's why it's SO DAMN HARD to find!

I envy those who achieve this understanding through their faith, whatever belief system that may be. The key word here is not system but faith. By it's very definition to have faith is to believe in something that cannot be explained solely by scientific or logical means. Now, I'm not sure that faith and understanding are necessarily mutually exclusive of one another in this case. They both lead to a sense of peace and well being that it is the ultimate goal of both. The point is to be at a place at the end of our lives where we can say "my life mattered, I am prepared to move to the next phase, whatever that may be". I envy those of faith whose "whatever" lies in a traditional afterlife and heaven, etc. They believe that having lived a good life and by the values of that belief system, they will receive the reward of an eternal life in another form (again whatever that may be, according to that belief). There are certainly variations on this theme but virtually all belief systems (i.e. religions) promise some type of immortality. This theme ranges from a literal place in heaven, to endless re-incarnation and everything in between. All are comforting in their own way and that's their point. But I have not found my path there. I certainly wish that I could. It would certainly make my life a lot easier! Despite my traditional Italian-Catholic upbringing and 9 years at Madonna Parochial School, I have not found my truth there - at least not yet. And I continue to search for it, while at the same time realizing that it may be unattainable until the very moment we are confronted by it.

I have been to a number of funerals for African-American friends. Now, they. my friends, seem to have gotten it right! The affairs that I have been to have been a mixture of sadness for the physical loss of a friend and the joy of not just believing, but knowing that this person has moved on to an even better place. And they are unshakable in this. In a sense, it's a type of knowing without having to understand. Again, that balance has been achieved. It's like life itself: a mixture of joy and sorrow. And no matter how skeptical I get, I have NEVER failed to be moved at one of these services. They ALWAYS leave me with a sense of reaffirmation and comfort. It's so strong in them it gives me the strength to continue my search to reach that same point.

Despite the frustration and highs and lows my search continues to bring, there are certain truths that have become self evident to me: living a good, righteous life is the path to any type of lasting peace. Truth to those we love and, even more importantly, to ourselves is essential. Love is the most powerful emotion. It is greater than fear or greed or anger or hate. A loving family is priceless. And savor the moments we have NOW without fear for what the future may bring. It hasn't happened and, so, is not worth a second thought. Live in the moment. Love in the moment. Although it may seem fleeting, this is what lasts. We are perpetuating an "energy that cannot be created or destroyed. It can only change form". This is immortality.

Since I'm writing this during the Holiday Season, I suppose that it's appropriate to make some mention of Christmas and what it may mean for me. I have not been a practicing Catholic (or any other label) for quite some time. However, I have always been a follower of the simplest Christ message: Love above all else. And that message is never stronger than it is during this season of new birth and, therefore, renewed hope.

We have all been stung by the pain of loss. It seems that the past year has been a difficult one for me and my family. We've lost family and good friends. And that loss seems so magnified during this season. The joy of it has certainly lost it's edge for those who are experiencing their first Holiday without a special loved one. If I may be so bold, I'd like to respectfully offer this to achieve some level of comfort: on Christmas day I intend to to what I always do: renew my commitment to love as hard as I can for as long as I can.

I wish for you and yours PEACE ON EARTH, GOOD WILL TO ALL!

Which Super Hero do you identify with?

Let's have some fun! Which Super Hero do you identify with most? For me it's The Incredible Hulk. Why choose a green, illiterate, raging brute to bond with?

First, he is largely misunderstood. He only rages when he is provoked in the most egregious way. There are always plenty of warnings to transgressors before the transformation and ensuing destruction. And, come on, be honest, who among us has not wanted to RAGE at someone or something that has pushed us to the point of explosion? If only we had The Hulk's awesome power to make those evil doers regret ever even thinking of pissing you off! But, within the raging exterior is a gentle soul who just wants to be left alone.

Second, is the awesome physical power he possesses. He is after all, INCREDIBLE. His massive physique gives life to a raging inner spirit that simply cannot be defeated or even contained. It has to be so liberating to think that you are indeed unstoppable. You have the ability to press your will, should you choose, on any situation. Yet, at the same time, he seems to posses an inner, moral compass that allows him to control his rage just enough so as not to seen as purely evil and destructive. Simply put, he is a force to be reckoned with. NO ONE fucks with The Incredible Hulk!

And lastly, he communicates in simple, direct language like, "Hulk smash"! There is no ambiguity in his speech. He says what he feels and leaves nothing to interpretation. Let's call it an economy of words (something, obviously, I lack in my own life!). There is beauty in its simplicity.

So, in many ways The Incredible Hulk is just like me at the same time as being everything that I am not. But this is the beauty of living vicariously through a comic book character: it's you and, often, so much more.

At the lens

My view.

All photos: F LoBuono

Photo of the Day

OK gang, caption this one!

PS: It's Mila Kunis on the R.C. promoting her new movie "Black Swan".

photo: F LoBuono

Douche of the Day: The Seneca nation

The DOTD for 12/1/10 is the Seneca Nation. Because I'm a big believer in Native American rights, this one was hard - but necessary. I just saw their TV commercial urging "us" to write our (actualling using the word "your") lawmakers to force "our" legislators to honor previous Indian treaties. Although I appreciate the sentiment I completley resent the execution. One at a time, Native Americans deliver the message in a series of brief requests, all calling for "us", in one way or another, to honor "our" treaties with the Seneca Nation. They try to personalize the message by continually using the pronouns "you" and "your" e.g. "we ask you to honor your commitment to the treaty signed with the Seneca Nation.

Well, here's my issue: First, as far as I know, my name does not appear on any treaty with the Senecas. Second, when this treaty was signed, well over 100 years ago, my family was still scratching out a living high in the Sicilian countryside. Therefore, it would be difficult to hold my family accountable for treaties signed before they even thought about coming to this country.

Writing to my legislators urging them to honor the treaty is a worthy cause. But to ask me to take personal responsibilty for others' transgressions is just plain lame. In fact, they lost me with this one.

So, I have to say to them, the Seneca Nation, congratulations for turning off a real supporter and being honored as Douche of the Day!

Need a lawyer? How about this guy?!

I was watching some late night TV after my shift the other night when the "1-800-LAWYERS" commercial aired. I'm sure that you've probable seen it: It's a talking head of, I assume, a lawyer who explains why you should use their law firm. Simple enough. I have no issue with the over-all message. It's how it's presented that scares the shit out of me! First, the spokesperson needs an oil change - on his hair. I'm thinking 10W50. He also sports a "Snidely Whiplash" style mustache. It's oh so pencil thin and curls up at the ends - all very sinister. Next, when he speaks, it's in stacato bursts as if he were a carnival barker. After giving a litany of ways you can be injured: "in an accident, in a car, at your job, on the street, by a doctor, or by ANYTHING or ANYBODY you may be entitled to a cash settlement" he urges us to call 1-800-LAWYERS.

I don't know about you guys but I wouldn't call on this guy to deliver me a pizza much less organize and execute my legal situations! But the commercial with this very same spokesman has been running for years. So, they must be successful. God only knows how, but what people will do to make a buck (them AND us) never ceases to amaze me. :)

The Tail of The Big Red Cat

12/1/10

The Tail Of The Big Red Cat

I’m not sure exactly where he came from, so we don’t know his actual age. What I do know was that, he unexpectedly appeared one day, sitting in the middle of the living room floor of my apartment in Nyack, NY. He was just sitting there. Like he owned the place. He was a young cat but full-grown. And pretty big, too. And REALLY RED. He must have used the cat flap window that I had in one of my living room windows. I used it for the cat I already had, a nice, quiet, fun loving, silver tabby named Belle Star (after the infamous Wild West madam, of course!). I always enjoyed cats for their independence and believe that when they want to go out, they should. I just don’t need to let them in and out 100 freakin’ times a day - hence, the instillation of a flap window. Now, this allowed Belle Star easy access and me some peace. But it also allowed access to other critters like raccoons (another story for another day!). People might freak at that but not me. If you keep your wits about you, you will ALWAYS have the upper hand on an animal: you can think, they can’t. Use good, common sense and a broom with a long handle!! Keep the door or window open and persuade your guest to head for the closest and easiest egress. Always worked like a charm.

Well, not this time. Not against The Big Red Cat! When I entered my living room and saw him, I was not overly surprised (see above): I knew just how to handle the situation. Our eyes met. He didn’t flinch and neither did I. I exclaimed, “WTF! Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my living room”! He still didn’t flinch. It was time for the broom. I came back wielding the broom like a lance. When The Big Red Cat got a look at me raging back in with my “lance” he headed for the window and was through in a flash of red fur. “Take that, you SOB. And don’t come back”! I was very happy with my little femme fatale Belle Star and certainly didn’t want some strange, red, interloper hanging around – not on my watch! Well, that was that. He wouldn’t be back anytime soon.

At least, so I thought! Sure enough, a short time later, I was doing some chores around the apartment. I walking into my living room and who was sitting in the middle of the floor, in the exact spot I found him in the first time? Of course, it’s that DAMN BIG RED CAT – again! He looks at me. I look at him. We begin the same routine again. And, again, the ultimate result is the cat blazing through the window. After the first ½ dozen times he pulls this routine, he tries a new tactic; he runs from room to room before he heads for the window.

Well, after what had to look like a scene from a silent movie comedy goes on for about a week, I finally gave up. The Big Red Cat was here to stay and Belle Star and me had better get to used to it. That was 16 years ago and we’ve belonged to one another ever since.

Big Red (it’s MUCH easier than calling for “The Big Red Cat” all of the time) and Belle Star never really got along. She was a diva and he’s a big slob. It’s not a great combination. At best, she tolerated him. He never changed, but she did. She had to! Big Red has that effect and just about everyone. From day one, his personality was so forceful, so engaging, that he is, quite literally, irresistible.

I’m a “critter person” and have had the great privilege of being with many, wonderful animals. But Big Red may be the most unique of them all. It’s dangerous to anthropomorphize animals. But to those of us who have been around them for our whole lives know, they are all possessed of their own unique qualities that make them nothing short of a family member. And so it is with Big Red. What a joy he has been everyday of those 16 years. He has never given me one day of trouble. He is affectionate without being clingy. He is independent without being aloof. He is cocky without being arrogant. When he has to go to the vet, we don’t even use a cat carrier – we just hold him. He’s not going anywhere. When I got married he adopted my wife and 3 stepsons as his own (and they, him).

When I’m down I think of Big Red and his attitude towards life. Perhaps it’s strange to say, but he’s taught me a lot about how to approach it! But, in a sense, isn’t that one of the reasons we share out lives with them?

Recently, in a terrible mishap, one of my stepsons accidentally ran over one of his hind legs, breaking it badly. It was a warm, late summer day and Big Red was sleeping soundly under his car. Normally, as soon as you approach a car he may be underneath, he slips away. He’s gotten a little deaf lately and sleeps very soundly. He obviously did not hear the car in time. In a sense, we were lucky, it could have been much worse. Still, the leg was badly broken. Strangely, Big Red never uttered a sound through the whole ordeal. Even when I scooped him up in my arms to rush him to The Cat Care Clinic, he never made a sound – not a cry, not a whimper, nothing. What a freakin’ trooper his is!!

Luckily my good friend, Dr. Maureen Saunders, also happens to be one hell of a veterinarian and runs the Cat Care Clinic of the Nyacks. She took us right away. After x-rays she explained that the break was a bad one but that his health, especially for nearly 16 years of age, was exceptionally good. She thought that, because of that age, it would be a long recovery. However, she was optimistic that he would indeed recover. She fit his left, rear leg with a long cast – all the way from the hip to the toe. Poor Big Red. He would have to learn to adjust to that monstrosity. But learn and adapt he did. Almost from the very beginning he was making subtle adjustments to learn how to deal with that thing on his leg. First, he would drag it along. He got pretty effective with this technique and could, eventually, even negotiate long stairs. Then, he realized that he could move his hip a little bit and actually even “step” with the leg. Eventually, he was doing just about EVERYTHING he always did – just a little slower. And instead of sleeping 17-19 hours a day, he was sleeping 18-20. It was amazing to watch him adapt.

The normal recovery for this type of break calls for a cast to be on for 4-6 weeks. Because of his age, “Dr. Mo” said his would probably be longer. It was. He was in the cast for a full 9 weeks. The doctor removed it about 2 weeks ago and said the bone had healed well. But you should see how much it atrophied. It’s half the size of the other one.

We could tell that he was glad to get that damn thing off! At least he could crawl up in a nice, little round ball again without that cast and leg and sticking straight out. But the leg had become so weak he wouldn’t put any weight on it. However, as he did with the cast, he learned, little, by little, to use the leg again. First, he would put it on the ground when he ate. Then he would place it on the ground with every forth or fifth step. Now he walks on all fours! OK, he has a pronounced limp but he’s walking. Give him until the end of the year and he’ll be almost as good as new. Hey, he may not be running any marathons but that’s not what Big Red Cats do anyway. Not bad for 16!!

It’s wonderful to have my buddy back and just about whole too! He was a blessing and continues to be one, teaching me about patience, perseverance, and acceptance. I suppose there is a moral lesson here as well. I guess it probably has something do with seeing and recognizing our gifts as they come. Long live BIG RED.

PS: thanks to all who followed Big Red’s progress from the beginning and for all of your well wishes. J

Words for the Day

When you try to make everyone happy the usual result is that no one is happy - including you. So be nice to yourself today. :)

Big Red shows everyone how it's done on a rainy day.

A Gathering of Bridgemen

It started about 5 years ago; just a few former teammates getting together for a Thanksgiving morning breakfast at the Plaza Diner in Fort Lee, NJ. They had all played football together at Fort Lee High School in the late 60's and early 70's. It was a way to come together and maintain a bond that, for me, made team sports worth playing.

I was not at the first few gatherings but I had heard about them. I guy that I work with in NY also played football at Fort Lee around the same time that I had. He had run into one of the original organizers who invited him to come and to invite other former players as well. After a few years of saying "maybe", last year we decided to attend for the first time. By then, it had outgrown a back table at the Plaza Diner and was being held at the VFW Hall in Fort Lee.

At first, I was a little apprehensive about attending. I try to be a forward looking person and am not very into nostalgia. But I thought, how could it hurt? I had always enjoyed my teammates and hoped that I would again. But how much had they changed? How much had I changed? After all, nothing remains unaltered. Even the town itself had changed radically. It went from a town with mostly Italian, Irish and a few Jewish families to overwhelmingly Asian.

When we arrived at the VFW there were about 25-30 men milling about the small meeting hall. Most were in their 50's and 60's, and, surprisingly, in pretty good shape. In fact, a few of the guys looked as if they could still play a down or two! Most of the faces were unrecognizable to me. They had not played on my team or during my era. However, there were a select few whom I recognized almost immediately. They were my teammates; the boys who I sweat with, bled with, cried and laughed with. They appeared as grown men but I saw the boys I knew beneath them all. Some I had not seen in 40 years but I still knew exactly who they were.

Over coffee and bagels we spent a few hours catching up. It had been a lifetime and there was much to learn about all of them. There were families, children, and careers to talk about. And, of course, there were reminisces of past gridiron glory. Well, maybe we were a little short on the glory part, our team was not very good! But what was glorious was the confirmation of what the word teammate really means. These "boys to men" were, at one time, my brothers and I found out they still are. And I am proud to say that they had all grown to be outstanding people. They are husbands, fathers, and sons. They are successful in one way or another. It was an affirmation of all we played for - one another. We all had withstood so much bull shit to play what many people consider an insane game. We played in an era when we weren't allowed to drink water, even at the hottest practices. Sanitary conditions were non existent. If we would have know what a mersa infection was, I'm sure we would have all had it! We suffered the indignities of coaches questioning our manhood and lineage, while they preached perseverance. We were told that everything could be overcome if we stuck together and persevered. We thought they were insane and just plain evil and cruel. But, now, 40 years later, I realize they were right. We did overcome and it helped us become the men that filled that VFW Hall in Fort Lee. The bond that we all felt in that room was forged on those rock strewn playing fields, smelly locker rooms, and sweaty gymnasiums where we spent our youth. I suppose that Ben Franklin's quote urging unity during the Revolution sums it up best: "if we don't hang together, we will most certainly hang separately".

At this years Gathering of Bridgemen (our rather awkward team name) there were many of the same faces I had seen the year before and a few new ones that I thoroughly enjoyed seeing. I'll sleep well tonight knowing that the more some things change, the more they remain the same. We loved each other then and we still do. And, in this case, that's just fine by me.

The Cesspool of Worthless Knowledge

In response to a number of request from our last "swim in the pool", I've researched the origin of the word bizarre. It is apparently an ancient word that comes to us from the Basque language. Basque is a rather obscure language spoken primarily by the people of the same name who reside mostly in Northeastern Spain, on the border with France. It is unlike virtually every other European language and its exact origin is largely unknown.

What is known is that in its original form, bizarra, in ancient Basque, meant beard. It was eventually adopted by the Spanish and Portugese who altered its meaning to handsome or brave. Sometime in the middle of the 17th century it began to be used commonly by the French who, for reasons unknown today, changed its meaning to its modern connotations: strange or grotesque. Linguists theorize that in the many years of conflict between the Basques and the French, the French altered the word's meaning to demean their opponents.

For whatever reason, how bizarre is it that what was once a word used in the affirmative (brave, handsome) came to be one with such a negative connotation (strange, weird, grotesque)? :)

At The Game

In my position as a photo/video journalist, I have been privileged to witness many historic events. From the horrific (9/11 and Hurricane Katrina) to the spectacular (the launch of the Space Shuttle Discovery) to the sublime (Barack Obama's acceptance speech at the DNC in Denver), I have often pinched myself during these events just to make sure that I wasn't dreaming.

Well, I had another occasion to do so this past Saturday night. I got to attend and photograph the first college football game at the new Yankee Stadium. While not as dramatic as the events I mentioned above, it was still an experience that most people simply would not have access to, making it so special and memorable. The game pitted old-time rivals Army and Notre Dame. After many previous battles at the old stadium with national title implications, they last played there in the mid 1960's.

I was originally scheduled to shoot news video for the game. However, that assignment was cancelled, effectively leaving me with my press credentials and nothing to do. Again, I had to pinch myself! Here I was, a huge fan of the Yankees and college football (I played in High School and College), standing on the hollowed ground of the most famous stadium in America, with my personal 35 mm camera and nothing but time on my hands. And my access was extraordinary; the only way to be closer to the action was to be in the huddle. I made over 100 photos. In fact, one of my co-workers (also there from the original assignment) laughed saying, "you look like your working out there". Well, it was anything but! Shooting soley for myself was pure pleasure.

The game ball was delivered to mid-field by an Army Ranger who parachuted down from a Black Hawk helicopter high above the stadium. The Army team charged out of the tunnel to take the field following one of their captains proudly streaming the Stars and Stripes. Notre Dame dashed unto the field in their rarely used kelly green jerseys with their huge band playing the famous Notre Dame fight song. If you were to write a Hollywood script about how to begin an historic college football game, this is how you would do it!

To stand on the side on the sidelines, with the glare of the stadium lights and hear the roar of the huge crowd swell and then thunder down to the field gave me goose bumps. To be part of that collective energy is an awesome experience.

It was a beautiful night with nearly a full moon. Army scored first on a field goal to take an early 3-0 lead. The sell out crowd of 54,000 + crowd was boisterous, enthusiastic and largely in favor of the Fighting Irish. Supported by their huge band and cheering section, The Fighting Irish eventually overwhelmed a game but overmatched Black Knight team 27-3. But for me, as it should be for most sports fans, especially on the collegiate level, the score should be secondary to the experience. And this one was just great.

From the Cesspool of Worthless Knowledge

Just about everyone knows the work berserk. I'm sure most of us have experienced that emotion in themselves or others. Some act on it, others not. But do you know where the word comes from?

It's actually a Norse word that comes to us from the Vikings. Of course, we all know of the wild and formidable raider/warriors who terrorized Middle Ages Europe. They used their magnificent Long Boats to sail the world, terrorizing and pillaging cities and villages from Ireland to Sicily. Their raids were so sudden and shocking that the most popular prayer of the time was "Lord, protect us from the Vikings". And the fiercest of the fierce Vikings were the berserkers. They were the storm troopers of their day. They fought with such ferocity that it is widely believed that they were under the influence of some type of hallucinogenic substance (probably wild mushrooms). In addition to their wild fighting style, they were distinguished by their bear skin or berserk tunics. Hence the moniker berserker.

So, the next time some idiot treats you with disrespect or some clueless driver cuts you off at 70 m.p.h., break out the bear skin tunic and just go berserk! :)

The Douche of the Day: Roger Ailes

It's officially, Roger Ailes has been named Douche of the Day. The Chairman of Fox News Corporation narrowly edged out Willow Palin who was considered for the callous and insensitive comments she made during the premiere of her family's reality TV show.

Ailes is DOTD for calling the executives of NPR "Nazis". He told The Daily Beast: "they are, of course, Nazis. They have kind of a Nazi attitude. They are the left wing of Nazism. These guys don't want any other point of view. They don't even feel guilty using tax dollars to spout their propaganda". Ailes then called for Federal funding to NPR be cancelled. He later apologized to The Anti-defamation League saying he uttered those words in an angry response to NPR's firing of Juan Williams. He said that "nasty, inflexible, bigot", would have been a better choice of words. Really?! What a guy!

Here are the issues: NPR can easily and accurately be described as ultra-liberal in their programming and Williams was fired, according to NPR executives, for talking a position contrary to those liberal leanings. Now, I NEVER agreed with that decision and wrote so in this blog. But "Nazis"?! First, beyond the dubious wisdom of NPR's actions in the Williams affair, to suggest that they are Nazis is beyond reason. And it's inflammatory. Every time someone challenges Fox News' POV, one of their program hosts screams "Nazis" in response. An independent group researched FOX News programming and found frequent use of the word "Nazi" by both Glenn Beck and Bill O'Reilly. Now we know where they get it from: right from their boss, the DOTD, Roger Ailes.

Fox News, under the leadership of Ailes, is constantly fostering a theme of fear and loathing in their programming. They use words like "Nazi" to dehumanize their opponents and achieve their goal: a conservative agenda. They want NPR stopped for their liberal posture while they continue to pursue a conservative one under the guise of reporting the news. Fair and Balanced my ass. The hypocracy is stagering! If NPR is a bastion of liberal fools than Fox News is a haven for conservative creeps.

And don't forget where Ailes comes from. He may have started in the news business but he has been a media consultant for CONSERVATIVE, REPUBLICAN causes since the 1960's. He has advised Republican presidents from Nixon to Bush. Fair and Balanced?! It's a case of the proverbial "pot calling the kettle black". They mock NPR for their strong POV and yet have the same strong approach but in the opposite direction. Give me a freakin' break!

And as for cutting the Federal funding to NPR, it would hurt but it wouldn't kill them. They receive less than 10% of their total operating budget from the Government.

So, congratualtions Roger Ailes, you are the Douche of the Day!

Todays DOTD?

Working on today's Douche of the Day. So far, it looks like Roger Ailes is the hands down winner. Stay tuned. More later.

Brain Droppings: The Royal Scam!

I don't know about you guys but if I hear one more freakin' thing about the latest "Fairy Tale Royal Wedding", I'm gonna' hurl!! It's already getting wall to wall media coverage. Shit, CBS' The Early Show was "live" from Buckinham Palace this morning!! Could you really give a shit?! I don't care where she came from, where he got her ring from, what color the gowns will be, what time the affair is, what they'll eat, or where it's supposed to take place. You see, I have a life to pursue. I don't need to live vicariously through someone else. So I don't watch reality TV - ever. And I don't give a shit about anyone elses wedding - especially a bunch of inbred Anglo hold-overs from an era that's better having past!

And it's just beginning. . .

Have a nice day!!!!!!!!

Life On the Red Carpet

Read what it's like to be a videographer on the RED CARPET for the latest movie premieres in NYC by going to www.talk-frank.blogspot.com.

On The Carpet

To those of you thinking that shooting at a Red Carpet Movie premiere is glamorous, this is for you. It's a 5 second clip of Russell Crow meeting the paparazzi on the RC to promote his new movie (at the bottom of the page). As you can hear from the clip, it's nothing short of insanity. In fact, in TV parlance, they are known as "pig fucks": lots of squealing and jostling for position!

First, when we arrive, usually about an hour before the actual event, we are sent to some holding pen near the celebrity arrival position (just like cattle). Then (just like cattle) we are herded into our positions on the carpet. If it's cold or rainy, then it's inside a large tent. If it's clear and warm, they are usually held outside. Once you're in, you find your place which is marked by a single, 8x10 loose-leaf sheet of paper on the ground with your organization's name written or typed on it. These are then lined up one next to the other so that the photographers are literally shoulder to shoulder. I place a step stool in my position. We all have them. It's impossible to shoot from ground level because so many people (security, publicists, etc.) are on the carpet with the celebrities. You have to be above it all to shoot down on the subject. I'll spend the next hour or two climbing up and down the stool to get my shots. Since I have a foot and a half long, 25 pound piece of steel on my shoulder, this is NOT a lot of room. In fact, the videographers usually apologize to each for banging each other in the head with our cameras BEFORE we even start shooting. Then you wait for the arrivals.

No one is ever on time. When they do arrive they hit the still photographers first and the place just EXPLODES. The amount of light generated by (sometimes) hundreds of flashes going off simultaneously is absolutely BLINDING. Each photographer screams the subjects name in an effort to get the subject to look directly at him/her so as to appear they were the only photog there. So, the noise is deafening! While this is going on, I'm up on my stool getting shots of the photographers shooting the celebs. This is known as "b-roll". After the still photographers, they hit the line of video cameras and reporters where each outlet gets to ask them questions. Sometimes there are as many as 20 or 30 crews, all asking just about the same questions.

Rapped around the celebrities who are actually involved in the film you were sent to cover are the other "beautiful people" who are simply making the scene. In addition to other actors who are supporting their friends, are the other media whores looking for some free publicity. This invariably includes models, designers, reality TV "stars", and other sycophants. These people never make my cut!

By the end of the night, I'm sweaty, deaf, and my shoulders are killing me. Very glamorous indeed!

Today's DOTD: Glenn Beck

Today's Douche of the Day is Glenn Beck. This is Mr. Beck's first time as DOTD but I believe that's only because it just started yesterday! I have a feeling that this is the first of many times he will be so honored. Why should we single out Glenn today over any other day? After all, on a daily basis, isn't he a whinny, paranoid, narrow minded, trickster ( I refrain from using even "pundit" to describe him. He's not that clever!)?

Well, this time it's for his latest attack on a man I consider a living embodiment of the American Dream: George Soros. Whether you agree with Soros' ultra-liberal politics or not, his story AND his courage are to be admired, not ridiculed. Born in Hungary, this is a man who survived the Nazis AND the Communists to become one of the richest and most influential people on the freakin' planet. By his own admission he is ulra-liberal because he knows what it means to live in a country that is NOT FREE. He, above most, understands that it takes constant vigilance to maintain a truly free society. He's pretty much freedom across the board. He also puts his money where his mouth is, donating millions of dollars to causes he believes in, even when they may be unpopular. And Glenn Beck hates him for it!

On one of his recent programs, Beck accused Soros of a world-wide attempt to destabilize foreign governments with an eye on eventually causing the US economy to collapse. Beck also suggested that Soros was a "closet" (my quotes) anti-Semite because, as a 14 year old boy, he was forced into Nazi collaboration against Jews. What a douche!

The first accusation is just pure paranoiac fantasy - something that Beck regularly builds his program on. In TV parlance, these kinds of sensational accusations deliver "eye balls" i. e. an audience.

The second one strikes close to my heart. My father-in-law, like Soros, is Hungarian born and about the same age. He, also like Soros, survived the Nazis and the Communists, emigrated to the US and became a successful, tax paying, loyal American citizen. I have listened to my father-in-law tell stories about being a teenage boy and being pressed into the service of the Nazis. He has told me stories of his illegal imprisonment by the Communists where he was forced to stay even as his mother lay dying. And he often speaks of his love for this country and the real freedom and success it has afforded him. This is what, I believe, George Soros is all about: preserving our freedoms, especially our freedom to choose.

What does Glenn Beck offer as an alternative? Fear and Loathing (I loved Hunter S. Thompson!). His vision of the future is an apocalyptic one. One where free thinkers and doers, like Soros, offer a recipe for disaster. What is Beck afraid of? I say it's the deepest kind of freedom - freedom of thought that he fears. If your vision doesn't match his Mormon Faith inspired one, then it's evil.

Well, for your narrow minded point of view, Talk Frank is happy to reward Glenn Beck with today's Douche of The Day Award. Congratulations! :)

New Category - Douche of the Day

Along with Social Commentary, Brain Droppings, and Widsom from the Cesspool of Worthless Knowledge, I've added a new category to the blog:

Douche of the Day or D.O.T.D.

This special category is reserved for those special people and institutions who have exhibited the brain power of a soothing, feminine hygene wash.

We actually got a great start yesterday for DOTD. Kanye West, fresh off his petulent rant on The Today Show, narrowly edged Lebron James, whose self-serving Nike commercial is polluting the airwaves. Congratulations Kanye!

Who will it be today. Keep logging in to find out!! :)

Social Commentary: Telling Lebron what to do.

About the only thing as lame as Kanye West's twitter response to his lame interview with Matt Lauer on The Today Show is Lebron James' new commercial for Nike. Have you seen it? It's the one where he asks the rhetorical question (in response to the criticism he received for his Miami Heat debacle): "what should I do"? Well, I have an answer for him (and it is definitely NOT rhetorical). Lebron, you should shut the fuck up and do what you do best - play basketball!

Have a nice day!

Ps: did I mention the commercial was lame?

The First Winner of "Douche of the Day": Kanye West

Congratulations to Kanye West for being sellected as the very first ever Douche of the Day winner!

The absolutely worst person I was ever involved with during an interview was Kanye West. Hands down. No equal. What a douche! It was 3 or 4 years ago and he was doing a publicity swing through NYC. My producer and I were scheduled to meet him at his room at the Mandarin Hotel in mid-town. Of course, the room was huge, with spectacular views of Central Park. In addition to West, his entire entourage was milling about. All were there to serve the mighty West. During the interview, his level of arrogance was astounding! He made it clear that there was no one quite like him (THANK GOD!). When the producer asked him who his artistic influences were, his response was, "no one. I'm am so totally original that I have NO influences". Give me a freakin' break. The arrogance of that douche. Even when he wasn't spewing self-serving nonsense, his body language and tone were insufferable. He said nothing of substance. It was all "me, me, me".

When the interview was complete, I needed to get some "b-roll" (generic filler footage) of him leaving his room and heading down to the street. I piled into the elevator with him and his entourage. When we reached the ground floor, I left the elevator first to get a shot of him leaving. While I was backing out, shooting video, I clipped the corner of the elevator and temporarily lost my balance. Instead of showing concern or helping, West and his flunkies laughed so heartily that they almost doubled over - just the funniest thing ever!

I guess this seems harmless enough but it was emblematic of his attitude towards the world: we are all here for his amusement. Look at his track record. The Taylor Swift incident is just one of his many transgressions. South Park did a great job of exposing him for the douche he is on their episode "Fish Sticks". It was brilliant in it's inception and execution.

Now he's at it again, showing his true colors in a recent Matt Lauer interview on "The Today Show".

I don't know about you, but for me, his music, even at its best, will never be able to compensate for his boorish behavior. In fact, the only time I want to see, or even HEAR from, Kanye West is when he's spoofed on South Park! Congratualtons Kanye :)

Social Commentary: They Were Giants

This was originally published in The Nyack Villager:

They Were Giants

It seems to happen to me every Veterans Day. I’ll be watching a documentary on The History Channel of any one of the great battles of WWII. Riveted, it suddenly strikes me: “Oh my god, war is such a horrible thing. What a terrible price to pay – THEY paid”! I unabashedly shed a few tears. Whenever I am reminded of their sacrifice, I am overwhelmed with emotion. These men were GIANTS. I apply that moniker to all who served in that capacity but in particular to the so-called and so aptly named Greatest Generation – the men and women of WWII.

A large part of this connection lies within my family; both my father and his brother served in combat units in the European Theater. My father was an engineer with Patton’s Third Army and my uncle Ralph served on a tank with the 7th Armored Division. My father is gone 20 years now and my uncle, like so many of his comrades, just recently passed away. But their sense of duty, honor, commitment and pride in service has lived beyond them both.

One thing that strikes me so deeply is that, despite the enormity and importance of the task at hand, it so often came down to young, 18 and 19 year old boys who became men in the blink of an eye, the flash of a muzzle, or the blinding light of a fierce explosion. They became steel forged in the crucible of mortal combat. Yet, for me, it’s their humanity in the midst of such barbarity that affects me most. These men knew their mission was to survive by killing the enemy, destroying them and eliminating his ability to wage war. It was his JOB and he was going to do it! He also came to know that loyalty and commitment to his brother in arms was the key to his survival. This is such a powerful thing that it can even overcome the frightening might of a .50 caliber machine gun bullet. Giants, I say, Giants!

In the time after the violence of battle and they could reflect on what they experienced, they realized the terrible cost of war: so many young lives lost, the enormous human potential wasted. It is at these times of deep, inner reflection that the emotion, the compassion, the deep sense of humanity comes out in all of them. In the end, they, before all others, know we must choose humanity over brutality. It’s this legacy that, despite the obvious sadness for the loss of so many young lives, gives them tremendous inner strength, validated by their very presence.

There is a family legend about the two LoBuono brothers from Cliffside Park, N.J. – my father and his younger brother, Ralph. Somewhere in eastern France, my father, the engineer, was building a pontoon bridge across a small river so that the US tanks could roll on. Well, sure enough, my uncle, the tanker, needed to get his tank across that very river. At some unknown intersection, in the middle of a great battle to save the world, two brothers had a chance meeting. It only lasted a few minutes but I can only imagine the deep pleasure it must have given them to finally see one another again. It had been two years since they last met. There was brief blurb of the encounter published in Stars and Stripes. “Brothers Meet in France” read the headline. My mother still carries that article, folded and graying, in her purse.

I recall that story every Veterans Day and think of my father and uncle. I think of all the veterans of all the wars. And I prefer to think of that story above all others because it’s one of reunion, family, and hope. Ultimately, they are the values that these men fought and died for in the first place.

Perhaps my father met his brother again. Somewhere. In some far away place. Like they did on that day in 1944. I’d like to think so. I’d like to think that veterans and all brothers in arms will once again be with one another - as they were in their youth.

Well, there I go again with the water works. I get softer as I get older. But I still don’t mind the tears. They were worth it. They were ALL so worth it.

Author’s note: I sincerely hope that, eventually, we will learn from their sacrifice and abolish war so that we will never have to memorialize the loss of so many again. Wishful thinking? Perhaps, but a worthy goal, don’t you think?

photo: F LoBuono caption: Candy store, Philadelphia