Elton John at the Tribeca Film Festival

All Photos the property of Frank LoBuono

Photo of the Day

Immigrants at a pro-immigration rally near City Hall, NY. I made this while covering the massive rallies supporting immigration rights a few years back.

Excerpts from Gary Blum's new book, "I wasn't fired I'm on vacation".

For every reader who was ever been fired, let go, screwed over, downsized, outsourced, looking for a job…and who hasn’t been? Or, if you know someone who has, then you will what to check out this book. It will make you laugh, hopeful, and actually offer some useful advice. "I wasn't fired I'm on vacation." Available for all eBook readers at Barnes & Noble & Amazon. Some

Excerpts:

HIDING FROM THE TRUTH

As if losing your job wasn’t bad enough, now you have to figure out how to tell everyone. But that doesn’t mean you have to do it today. You did read the title of this chapter, didn’t you? Hiding from the truth that you are now unemployed can be simple. At first, it’s easy to hide, except from your immediate family. Unless they’re not around during the day, because they all have jobs. Then you can just hang around your house or apartment and lounge around in your bathrobe all day in solitary splendor. But if the kids are home, or your neighbor works the night shift, you’re going to have to come up with an excuse. Fast. Luckily, we have prepared a list for you, because frankly, we just have too much time on our hands. 6 EASY EXPLANATIONS FOR WHY YOU ARE HOME: 1. Waiting for the cable guy* 2. Dog threw up 3. You threw up 4. Car won’t start 5. Cat ran away, and you have to be home in case someone calls to say they found it. 6. The cable guy is coming This final one is the perfect excuse because if you have ever had your cable go out, not only can you be put on hold for hours, but if you hang up, you’ll lose your place in line. If and when you get through to a human who doesn’t hang up on you by accident, it can take days for the repairman to show up. And if you are not home between the hours of the crack of dawn until the first blue moon, you’re put at the bottom of the list.

THE RESUME…OR CREATIVE WRITING 101

Writing my resume? Nothing to it. Just take 25 to 30 years of my life and boil it down to one page. Easy. How difficult could it be to summarize my existence? At first, I wondered how I was going to fit my entire career on one page. The triumphs, the travails, the fortunes made, usually for other people. There was plenty to write about, I must have more than enough for one little page, more like enough for a book! Three hours later, I had typed my name. Centered. Then I tried the left margin. Then, the right. Then, back to center. Another three hours later, I figured I’d worry about the format later...first things first. I’d do the easy stuff. “Let’s see...I graduated from college in ...with a degree in…” I thought to myself, “Not bad, it’s all coming together. What clubs or organizations did I belong to?” I couldn’t think of any. “You’ll get back to that,” I reassured myself, “Let’s see my first job was at such and such. Hmmm, maybe I’d better leave that out. I was only there for 3 months, and didn’t accomplish anything. That’s not true, I learned how to make a great cup of coffee and look busy. OK...my second job...no, I better leave that out...my third...What was it?”

The Douche of the Day: John Steigerwald

In his regular column for The Observer-Reporter.com, sportswriter John Steigerwald wrote about the savage attack on San Francisco Giant's fan, Bryan Stow, by two thugs at the April 1st Opening Day game at Dodger Stadium in LA between the Giants and Dodgers. Stow, a 42 year-old paramedic from Santa Cruz, Ca. was so severely beaten in the stadium parking lot after the game that he had to placed in a medically induced coma in an LA area hospital with a fractured skull and serious brain injuries. The apparent cause for inducing the beating was the fact that Stow had the audacity to wear a SF Giants jersey on Dodger turf.

After giving some background on the attack in the article titled, Know When You've Outgrown the Uniform, Steigerwald apparently loses his mind. In an effort to explain how these things happen, Steigerwald actually takes STOW to task for wearing an opponents jersey on "enemy turf". Yes, he uses the "blame the victim scenario" to rationalize the attack. Here's the paragraph that became my WTF?! moment:

"Maybe someone can ask Stow, if he ever comes out of his coma, why he thought it was a good idea to wear Giants' gear to a Dodger's home opener when there was a history of out-of-control drunkenness and arrests at the event that date back several years."

This is the same rational that morons apply to rape victims who asked for it because they dressed provocatively.

As if this were not distasteful enough, Stegerwald goes further to disparage Stow by asking: "Are the 42 year-olds who find it necessary to wear their replica jerseys to a road game, those kids are now fathers who haven't grown up? Are there really 40-something men who think that wearing the jersey makes them part of the team? It was cute when a 10 year-old kid got that feeling by showing up at Three Rivers Stadium in a Pirates jersey, but when did little boys stop growing out of that?"

How clueless is this guy?! First, he blames the victim for inciting his own destruction. Then he misses the entire point of why people attend live sporting events in the first place, especially with their children. It provides most people with a few hours of diversion where they can, yes, BE A KID AGAIN! And this often involves wearing team journeys. Harmless. At least IT SHOULD BE.

The readers' response to the column was so swift and negative that the IP provider removed it from the site.

So, for his totally insensitive and inaccurate take on a violent and regrettable incident, John Steigerwald is today's Douche of the Day.

Social Commentary: On Boys with Pink Toes

In a recent ad for J. Crew, its President and Creative Director, Jenna Lyons, is seen holding her 5 year-old son's bare feet as both sport wide grins. What is instantly noticeable on her son Beckett's feet are his BRIGHT PINK TOENAILS. In the full layout of the ad, the toenail polish is clearly seen nearby, suggesting that mom just painted her son's toenails. It is also clear that both seem to be having a blast. The caption for the advertisement reads, in part: "Lucky for me, I ended up with a boy whose favorite color is pink".

Controversy surrounding the advertisement was virtually instantaneous. Pundits, psychologists, and parents all weighed in. Conservatives were outraged, claiming that this was a deliberate and unhealthy blurring of the boundaries of gender identity. Liberals fought back saying that the outrage was blown way out of proportion. Most children under the age of 7 experiment with both traditional gender roles before settling on one or the other.

Although my feelings lie somewhere between the two camps, I have to say that I am more sympathetic to the conservative POV than the liberal one. As I have written on many occasions, I am very much in favor of freedom of choice across the board. People have an unalienable right to make choices that concern how they live, how they love, and the image they choose to present to others. However, we're talking about a 5 YEAR-OLD CHILD here. Yes, he may like his toenails painted. And, yes, he may even like them painted PINK. However, I'm sure that he NEVER suggested to his Creative Director mother that he should be used in an advertisement that was bound to be SO CONTROVERSIAL. No, that was not the SON's choice but, obviously, the MOTHER's.

In my opinion, she, and her company decided to use this boy to make a point. He's too damned young to even pronounce gender identity much less freakin' UNDERSTAND it. And, when he grows to be a man, he will have to live with that picture. Perhaps, by that time (if he's lucky!), the line between the genders will be totally obscured. The problem is, it ain't that way now! You know at some point in his life, he is due for some grief over that photo. Perhaps it shouldn't be that way and the mom is trying to change that. But to offer your son up for that purpose is unconscionable.

It's also unrealistic and unsustainable. Men and Women are different BY DESIGN. We are different genetically, chemically, emotionally, and physically. And IT WAS MEANT TO BE SO. Why must we continually fuck with Mother Nature to suit our own emotional and political means? Why do we not celebrate our differences as the variety that adds the spice to our lives? I love my wife (and women) not because she is the SAME but because she is DIFFERENT. If I wanted the same, I would have cloned and then fucked myself!

So, don't give me this gender blurring bull shit. I am proud to be a man and look like one. And, yes, I also have a strong feminine side that I am not afraid to show. But that is not the greater part of me. I have always identified with men in the traditional sense. And, even at the age of 5, if you asked me to paint my toenails pink, I would have told you that "I would rather stick needles in my eyes". Now, I can't speak for young Beckett but I'm willing to bet you that it certainly wasn't HIS idea to create a gender-bending advertisement out of a play session with his mom. Shame on her and J. Crew for using a 5 year-old boy to sell shirts - and controversy!

Today's DOTD: Jenna Graziano

Photo: The Sicilian Countryside, F. LoBuono

First, let me thank all of those who have suggested DOTD's. Ken and John, patience my boys, your very worthy suggestions have not been forgotten or dismissed. They will appear very soon. However, I have a dilemma: so many Douche bags and so little time! Why the politicians (MOSTLY Republican politicians, nod-nod-wink-wink) alone could keep this feature of TalkFrank going for months!

Anyway, I choose this one, perhaps, because it touched me in a personal way. The Douche of the Day is Jenna Graziano. "Who", you ask? Well, you haven't heard of her yet, but you will. She is the daughter of alleged Mafia crime figure and convicted criminal, Anthony Graziano. Jenna is also the creative force behind the new VH1 series "Mob Wives". This new "reality" series features Jenna, her older sister, and three other bimbos, who were married to so-called Made Men, who are now incarcerated for their crimes in prisons around the country. The show itself is centered around Karen Gravano, the daughter of infamous mobster Sammy The Bull Gravano, as she makes her return to Staten Island after 10 years of living in and out of the Federal Witness Protection Program in Arizona. A review in the April 11th edition of The NY Post by Michael Starr had this to say in describing the series: the glitz and glamour of mob life portrayed in movies and TV shows like "Goodfellas" and "The Sopranos" isn't remotely close to the harsh reality faced by the women left behind while their significant others are serving time. And that's the point Graziano hopes to make in "Mob Wives", in which cameras will follow (them) as they try to keep it together on Staten Island with their main support system behind bars. "It's not all fancy clothes and cars," says Graziano. "These are women who are now single moms trying to make it on their own".

First of all, BORING!!! Who gives a shit what these women are doing with their lives in Staten Island, with occasional stops in Brooklyn and New Jersey? That's a plot? And fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, for glorifying a crooked, criminal lifestyle. Graziano claims to be doing the series to bring new light on the misconception about the so-called mob life-style. Bull shit, Bull shit, Bull shit. She's doing it to exploit the bizarre fascination that people have with everything "gangster" and line her pockets with CA$H along the way! And I'm sick and tired of these idiots, like the ones from that other horror show "Jersey Shore", giving the rest of the country and the world a totally misguided look at what it means to be Italian-American.

Let me share a little personal history with you. Both sides of my family hail from Sicily. My mother's family is from a small village near Messina, on the northeast coast, called San Salvatore di Fitalia. My father's family hails from a larger town near the capital, Palermo, named Lercare Friddi. Both places are in the mountains, prime mafia territory. Yet, NEVER was there a mention of mafia, la cosa nostra, or il mano nero - the black hand, in our household except to denounce them and to hear stories of how my grandfathers avoided them at all costs. In fact, I was taught that if someone teased us about being Sicilian and being in the mafia we were to tell them that, "our family works for a living"! I remember listening to Stella tell me stories of her father, an immigrant, master stone mason, who would work so hard and sweat so much during the long, hot NY summers that he would come home with his underwear in a bag. My father, then in his 40's, changed careers and became a Sheriff's officer in Bergen County, NJ. And he loved law enforcement until the day he died. So, DON'T GIVE ME THIS MAFIA BULL SHIT!

I want to hear stories of Sicilian-Americans like those of my father and grandfather who created families from the sweat of their brow and the strength of their character. So, SHAME ON YOU VH1 for airing this type of crap. And congratulations to you, Jenna Graziano for creating this POS and, thereby, being named today's Douche of the Day.

Social Commentary: On Tattoos

To ink, or not to ink. That is the question.

Shakespeare - Ed Shakespeare!

Let me begin by saying that some of my best friends have tattoos. Some have had them for years. Others, following the latest trend, are recent to the ink. I have none. This, of course, just like getting one, is a matter of choice. It really is one of the wonderful things about living in a free (mostly!) society. What we choose to do with our own bodies is, indeed, our own choice and NO ONE has the right to interfere with those choices. I truly live the credo to each, his own.

However, with that said, I would like to share some thoughts as to why I made that choice and why I decided to throw my two cents worth into a discussion about a decision that is highly individual and personal. First, when I was growing up, tattoos were a rarity. And they were generally sported by men from certain socially outcast groups, i.e. sailors, bikers, ex-cons. At that time (the 60's and early 70's), there was a social stigma attached to having one. You were marked, physically AND socially. My mother, in particular, drove the "social stigma" message home. She also had a spiritual approach to the issue as well. Stella would say, "Frankie, me, your father, and God, gave you a beautiful, healthy body. PLEASE don't mark it or abuse it in any way". This applied not only to tattoos, but even hickeys as well! Don't laugh, but because of this, I don't think that I ever got a hickey in my life. I knew that if Stella should see it, there would be lots of 'splaining to do! Of course, Stella meant for that to include things you put INSIDE your body as well. That one, for some reason, I chose to ignore. But the marking part kind of made sense to me. I certainly didn't want to be stuck with something now that I would live to regret later. I suppose that's one of the reasons I went through so many girlfriends as well!

Anyway, as a kid, the only man I remember with a tattoo was my friend Ritchie's brother, also named Frank. He was older (about 19), a biker, rode a Harley, and was just about the coolest, toughest guy around. He had a tattoo of a little, red devil on the triceps muscle of one of his arms. Whenever he was around, all of the neighborhood kids would surround him and yell, "Frankie, make the devil dance"! He would roll up his sleeve, and by flexing and relaxing his arm muscles, the devil would "dance". That was over 40 years ago and I can still see that little red devil shimmy and shake. It impressed my brother and I so much that we even thought we would each get one half of some symbol tattooed on our shoulders. Then, whenever we came together, it (and us) would be whole. However, Stella's voice was ever present in our psyches, don't mark your bodies. Keep them CLEAN and healthy. To this day, neither my brother nor I have a tattoo.

However, that, as I said was over 40 years ago. Today, our social norms have changed. No longer is tattooing just for those living on the fringes of society. People from ALL social strata have found personal expression in their tattoos. MANY women adorned themselves with ink. Angelina Jolie instantly comes to mind when thinking of beautiful women sporting elaborate tattoos. Even one of my stepson's girlfriend sports an itzy bitzy one on her ankle. Another stepson has a tattoo on each arm. Many of of my readers are tattooed. In fact, with this generation, it is not the exception but the norm.

And therein lies my beef. It has become SO common place that it is almost like a uniform. Even though each one can be an individual piece of art and, therefore, personal expression, the fact that you even have one makes you part of a "club", if you will. It's almost as if you DIDN'T have one you would be an "outsider". This is particularly true in so-called "gang culture". To be a member, you have to wear their mark or brand. In fact, police often use tattoos to identify specific gangs. The need to be inked to identify you with a particular group is clearly illustrated in the film, Training Day. While riding together in a car, the character of the street tough, undercover cop, played by Denzel Washington, says to his rookie partner, played by Ethan Hawk, that if he wants to fit in with him and the other toughs from the street unit, he'd "better get his ink". So many athletes today, particularly African-American ones, are so heavily tattooed that the tattoos appear as part of their uniforms.

This leads to tremendous social pressure on young people to conform to what was once rebellious. And this can lead to poor choices. Just recently, 5 Ohio State University football players, including their star quarterback, were suspended for trading OSU memorabilia for free tattoos. This is a serious violation of NCAA rules and ethics and jeopardized their college careers. In the case of the star quarterback, it could have cost him (and still could) millions of dollars in potential pro-football salary. For a tattoo? Now THAT'S social pressure. My, how times have changed!

So, I guess what I'm trying to say, especially to young people, is this: it's OK to be different. Even if that difference sets you apart by your clean, bare arms, legs, shoulders, chest, and any other body part. I always felt the more pressure there was to do something, the more wary I was and the less inclined I was to do it. So, be a rebel: Think before you ink.

Brain Droppings: New Movies

Two movies are being released today; Hanna and Soul Surfer. Hanna tells the fictional story of a 16 year old girl who is trained on a remote farm in Finland by her former CIA "super assassin" dad to become a "super assassin" too, so that she may kill a CIA "super assassin" before the CIA can kill her. Get it?

Soul Surfer tells the true story of teenager Bethany Hamilton, a competitive surfer, who lost her arm in a shark attack, and her triumphant return to surfing. Get it?

I covered the NY Red Carpet premiere of Hanna the other evening. It was a big affair with dozens of TV News crews and photographers present. During our interview with the movie's young star, Saorise Ronan, she said that she hoped that the title character would be empowering, not only to teenage girls, but to everyone. Right.

As far as I know, there was no NY Red Carpet premiere for Soul Surfer. If there was one, it was deemed by our producers as not worthy of coverage. We certainly did not attend and I don't know of any other news outlets that did. Typical.

Let me ask this, especially to parents with teenage or "tween" girls. Which movie would YOU choose to take your daughter to? Which character would you have your child emulate? Simple. At least it should be.

Today's "AreYouHappyYet"

From Gary Blum:

How can politicians complain about interjecting politics into a political discourse about something political? Isn't that like adding water to water to make water and then drinking it, only to complain it's water?

Gary Blum is a successful businessman, entrepreneur, and author of I Wasn't Fired. I'm on Vacation, Consulting . . . Starting a Business, a humorous look at being laid off. You can follow Gary at www.twitter.com/AreYouHappyYet.com and on FaceBook.

Social Commentary: On Bullying

When I was a kid, growing up in Fort Lee, NJ, I was so damned skinny and I hated it! Most of the male role models I had at that time where the complete physical antithesis of what I was. They were more of a stereotypical Italian-American build; refrigerators with heads. I was so damned skinny that every time that I put my elbows down on a hard surface, I got a shock in my hands from hitting the nearly exposed nerves in my elbows. I simply had no extra meat anywhere. It so did not fit the image that I wanted for myself. And, especially with the kids I tended to gravitate towards, left me ripe for teasing and bullying.

Despite my thin build, I was quick, athletic and competitive. This brought me in contact with kids of, let's say, a less gentle nature. To compete with this gang, you had better bring your "A" game. You'd better be pretty thick skinned too if you were to survive swimming with these sharks. And I was not thick skinned in any sense of the word. I've already discussed the limitations of my physical appearance and, despite wanting to be otherwise, my mental outlook was of a more gentle, sensitive nature, too. This can be a lethal combination to a young person who is desperately trying to fit in. Especially, in a social setting that is ripe for conflict. I'll leave the psycho-babel to the professionals but I think it's safe to say that most of us have "been there, done that".

Why, then, do some of us survive (and even thrive) those experiences while others do not? And, here, I believe is the key. Good parenting, at this time, perhaps more than at any other, is absolutely essential in aiding a young person in dealing with all of the trials and tribulations that ARE adolescence. And it has always been this way. Even though very much in the news lately as cyber-bullying, young people looking to take advantage of any perceived weakness in other young people is as old as humanity itself. It may take on new forms, but it's always been there. It's just so human. Young people often validate themselves at the expense of others. And because it is SO human, we need to teach young people the skills to cope with it.

There is one incident that crystallizes the moment I truly knew how to deal with bullying that instantly flashes to the front of my mind. Although both of my parents were active in teaching me this great lesson, it was Stella, who taught me, perhaps, the most valuable one. Those of you familiar with my writing know that Stella is my mother. She has been mentioned frequently in the many tales I have shared over the years. Much to her chagrin, I have always called her Stella. It just suits her so well. Now, Stella is not very big, about 5 feet tall. But she is compact, certainly not frail! She is smart, worldly, feisty, and Sicilian. In other words, although always thoughtful, simply put, she doesn't take any shit from anybody. My father, in his own way, was very much like minded. They were non-violent and taught us to be so as well. However, at the same time, they were VERY adamant about teaching us self respect and INSISTING that others respect us as well. Perhaps, it's a Sicilian thing. To accomplish this we were taught that there was a certain line that was not be crossed. If someone felt the need to cross that line with you, you were to TAKE ANY MEANS NECESSARY (short of a weapon!) to protect your person AND your honor. We were to walk away from ordinary, daily insults without fighting. However, we were not to be insulted to the point of embarrassment in front of others. And we were not to be physically touched. If we felt either of these thresholds had been exceeded, we were not only allowed to, we were even encouraged to, take action.

The incident I speak of with Stella unfolded like this: I think I must have been 10 or 11. We lived in a great neighborhood with lots of kids near my age. We had a neighborhood gang when the word still had a healthy connotation. In my romanticized recollection, it was a lot like a latter day version of the "Our Gang" comedy serials we watched as kids. Of course, as I mentioned, a dynamic like that is bound to have rites of passage for all the kids involved in that neighborhood. And that includes bullying. Well, one day, it seems the gang had been particularly hard on me. I'm sure that it probably went something like this: Your so damned skinny, how could you possibly hope to play football? Your clothes are so lame. Your last name rhymes with "boner". Look here comes "Frankie Boner"! You know, after all these years, I don't remember exactly what was said. What I do remember is being abused to the point of tears. Hearing enough, I turned away quickly so they wouldn't see that I had begun to cry. Once I cleared them, I wailed all of the way home. I was crying when I flew through the front door, where my mother bounded down the stairs to meet me. What's wrong, Frankie? What's happened?, Stella inquired. The gang, mom, they're picking on me. Picking on you? What do you mean? They're calling me "skinny" and "boner", I sniffled. Then she asked, What else? Did anyone hit or physically harm you? No mom, they just kept teasing me! She gently patted my head, wiped my nose, and checked me for any physical damage. Then she said and did something extraordinary. Well, what to you want me to do about it? There not my friends. I was shocked. With her hand on my back, she ushered me towards the front door while saying, look don't come here whining and crying because someone hurt your feelings. We can talk about that later. In the meantime, YOU have to back out there and find a way to make people respect you. That's how they'll stop calling you names. She completed the last sentence on my final step out the door. Then I heard it close and lock behind me. There was no going back, only forward towards, in a sense, my own destiny.

I don't remember if I went back and actually challenged those kids to take it back, or else (although I probably did). What I do remember is that after the initial shock of what Stella had said and done, I realize how right she truly was. This is not to say that this is for all parents in all situations. It worked for me, in my time and place. The point is, parents cannot live their children's lives for them. They cannot eternally shelter them from the slings and arrows that come with living a full and rich life. But they can teach them to respect themselves and others. And that respect must be earned. Once earned, it can never be taken away.

To earn my respect, even though I hated violence, I felt like I had to use my fists on more than one occasion. In fact, I feel like I got into a fight everyday of my life from the time of that incident until I was about 14 or 15. That's 4 or 5 years! And I'm proud to say that I don't think I won ANY of them. I'm not that tough. But winning those fights outright was never the point to me. What WAS important was winning the respect from those who would not treat me with it. You know what? It worked. After awhile, bullies got tired of beating me up. It was if they said, I can't fight him AGAIN today! It's just easier to leave him alone"! And, so I won my respect. I wish it were easier, for all of us. But that's not nature's way. We have to find our own way to respect. I found mine, strangely enough, in a locked door.

photo: C LoBuono

Pic of the Day: Rex, The Big Dumb Yellow Dog

Rex, a.k.a. The Big Dumb Yellow Dog, feeling pretty satisfied after a nice role on my freshly thatched lawn! I mean check out that look on his face. And, If you look more closely on his coat, you'll see the fine grass particles that I'll soon be cleaning up in the house, too. Nice. That's why he is, The Big Dumb Yellow Dog.

New Contributor/New Feature: Gary Blum and "AreYouHappyYet"

AreYouHappyYet

First Observations:

#1: We can always find money to kill people to save others, but we can never find money to save others without killing someone?

# 2: A safety bonus for the executives at Transocean? Isn't that like giving a performance bonus to a murderer for good behavior :)

#3: With war comes two types of casualties: the truth and people. To win any war you must manipulate the first by leveraging the second.

Gary Blum

Prior to founding TLG7, a full-service advertising agency and www.IPTLOCKcom, the easiest and least expensive way to send documents securely online, restricting who can view, copy, edit, print, save, or forward them, Gary served as Chief Marketing Officer for a leading e-business solutions provider where he developed and executed a wide variety of strategically-integrated traditional and online branding, marketing and communications efforts. He was directly involved in the creative for a wide variety of advertising, sales, marketing and promotional programs for both business-to-business and direct-to-consumer across multiple media channels. Before joining the dot com world, he was president and creative director at Grey Matter Advertising, where he worked with premier clients such as Time Warner, Time, Roper Starch Worldwide, Discover, Friedman Marketing, Reliance, MBIA, Opinion One, Frontier Insurance and Wise Optical Group. As President and Chief Creative Officer, he offers our clients the benefit of his years of award-winning experience tempered by his appreciation for bottom line results. Gary received a B.A. from Binghamton University.

AreYouHappyYet

Are thoughtful observations about the world that whether you agree with them or not will make you stop and think! You can also follow Gary on www.twitter.com/AreYouHappyYet and on Facebook.

Gary has just finished writing “ I Wasn’t Fired. I’m On Vacation, Consulting . . . Starting A Business” a humorous take on being laid off. Soon to be released on Amazon, Barnes & Noble & Borders.

He is currently finishing up “Stop Hurting Me, I’ll Buy It. The Secret To True Happiness.” A serious look at what happiness is and how each of us can find it even during the most trying times.

When You Think About It: On burning the Koran

Florida's evangelical, right wing, ultra-conservative pastor, Terry Jones, finally, accomplished what he had threatened to do some month's ago, i.e. burn a copy of the Koran. In front of his dwindling congregation (about 20-30 members) of the Dove World Outreach Center (how ironic is using the dove, an international symbol for peace, for an organization that has done everything BUT foster international peace and understanding!). Pastor Jones held a mock trial with Islam and the Koran as the defendants. There was a defense lawyer, a prosecutor, a jury, and "witnesses". It would even be streamed "live" on the Internet by an entity called The Truth TV (another ironic twist, don't you think?!). In the end, Islam was found guilty of promoting terrorism. The penalty would be to have Islam's holy book, the Koran, publicly burned, which he subsequently did.

The reaction in some of the Muslim world was predictably quick, visceral, and ultimately, violent. The next day, a UN compound in Kadahar, Pakistan was stormed and 12 UN workers were murdered. The day after that, another 9 people were killed and 81 injured in violent protests around the city.

It all seems so obvious; EVERYONE knew that this would happen. However, when you think about it, there is a lot more subtle irony going on here than meets the eye. Perhaps, Pastor Jones is crazy like a fox. Radical Islam fell right into his hands by reacting EXACTLY as he had hoped and predicted it would; viscerally and violently. In a way, they validated him and his mock trial by, in a sense, saying, "you can't call our religion violent! And we'll KILL you to prove it"!

So, when you think about it, what we now have is an insane act, committed by an insane individual, resulting in an insane response. And ALL of it in the name of GOD. Makes me glad to call myself a heathen!

The Legendary Rockland Bakery

The BEST bread in the world; the one, the only Rockland Bakery. You can smell the bread from here!

FOR THE BRIDGEMEN

These photos were made while on my way to and from work, traveling from Rockland County to NYC over approximately a 9 year period. They were made while driving over the George Washington Bridge in all weather conditions, any time of the day or night, and at various times of the year. These are just a fraction of the hundreds that I have made over the years.

GO BRIDGEMEN!