Today's MOZEN: The Last Session

On a warm spring night, O'Donoghue's Tavern said a final good bye to over thirty years of musical tradition. This is The Last Session.

Today's MOZEN: The Birthday Post Mortem

F LoBuono

First, the element of surprise was used with devastating effect: I had no idea what was happening. Really. I had hoped to run into some friends but what I found was beyond my wildest expectations. There can be no greater joy than to be with family and friends and bask in the bright light of their love and warmth, especially on your special day. And, I most certainly did.

Still, I have to admit a certain "uneasiness" with it all. I am SO grateful that I find it difficult to express the depth of that feeling. The well wishes and expressions of love were simply overwhelming. I couldn't possibly find the time to properly respond to them all. And, this makes me feel a bit guilty. Also, believe it or not, even with my VERY healthy ego, I am so veryhumbled by it all. I am not worthy - at least I feel that way!

So, I guess it's best to keep it basic and simply say, THANK YOU, ALL. May all the love and light shared with me be returned to you - with interest!!

Today's MOZEN: A Meditation on Turning 60, Part II

Photo C. Imperatore/ Words F. LoBuono

It's so much fun to have one day to call your own. Just one. Your birthday.

Certainly, there are other causes to celebrate. There are holidays like Christmas and New Years. The birth of a child or getting married are certainly reasons to spread cheer. However, those events are group affairs. They belong, in a sense, to everyone. Millions celebrate Christmas. Even a wedding involves at least two people. But, YOUR birthday is uniquely yours. It is the one day that, well, where you ARE the ONE. It is your day to be regaled and rewarded.

If you are a lucky man, like I am, you will be blessed by many well wishers - family and friends. It you are fortunate, like I am, you would accept, with good grace, the love that is offered in abundance. And, if you are smart, like I hope to be, you will store that loving, positive energy to be used in the days that lie ahead. Let it forge you with the strength of love and compassion, like that I am feeling today.

I won't forget.

Thank you, my friends.

Today's MOZEN: A Meditation On The Death of a Friend.

Words and photo by f LoBuono

When I heard the news, it took my breath away. Like the sudden loss of an old friend, I just couldn't wrap my head around it. O'Donoghue's Tavern, a Nyack institution and an integral part of my life was closing after over fifty years in existence. It was the oldest family run tavern left in Rockland County, NY. After one last hurrah, "O'D's" would close forever.

My first exposure to O'D's, as the tavern was affectionately known, came when I first moved to the County in the early 80's. I knew from the beginning that it would be my kind of place. By the time I discovered it, O'D's already had a reputation as the best drinking bar in town. As I was to find out, it would not disappoint. The crowds were always lively and diverse. And, conversation, good conversation, never lacked. Never.You could always find defrocked priests, police captains, fire chiefs, authors, athletes, former nuns, musicians, mothers. fathers, brothers, sisters, teachers, sailors, scientists, doctors, convicts, cads, bounders, and parvenus to engage in lively discourse. On any given night, you could walk into O'D's for a pint and a handshake. Their slogan was "Where The Customer is Always an Inconvenience". And, they meant it - you were not treated as a customer but as family who stopped in to say "hello". Even during my many years as a bachelor, I was rarely lonely - as l long as I could walk to O'D's. It could always be counted on for a good meal and a friendly encounter.

The building itself has a varied and interesting history. First as a stable for the horses used by the adjacent firehouse and then as a speakeasy during Prohibition, the location became part of local legend. When the O'Donoghue's took it over it became a family affair. After working there as a bartender, Paul O'Donoghue, Sr. purchased the place in the 60's and ran the joint until his death a few years ago. His oldest son, Kevin, ran the place for years with virtually every O'Donoghue family member working there. And, it provided employment not only the O'Donoghue's but for others, too. My brother, Joe, worked the bar every other Sunday for nearly twenty years. Kevin also gave jobs to those who needed them most, like the Sri Lankan immigrants who had come to Nyack in the 80's. It was that family atmosphere that made it a location "where everyone knows your name". It was never a fancy place. And, we didn't want it to be. It was gritty and it was real - just like its loyal patrons.

I have had too many experiences there than I could possibly remember, much less delineate. However, there is one that has stuck with me all these years and is typical of an "ordinary" O'D's experience. I had just finished a pint at the bar and was making my way to the parking lot when I noticed a group of three men gathered around my car. It was a classic Mustang convertible - candy apple red with a white interior. It could certainly turn heads and it was not unusual for people to check it out. So, I was not alarmed by the attention. As I got closer, I noticed one of the men, a burly, bearded man, was kicking my tires. I called out, "may I help you"? Paul O'Donoghue, Jr., who I suddenly recognized, replied, "hi, Frank. Let me introduce you to my two friends. This is Terry Southern (the great author of films like Dr. Stangelove and Easy Rider) and this big guy with the beard is Harry Nilsson (the Grammy award winning singer/song writer)". Just another evening at O'D's. I think that I must have died and went to heaven!

Another unique aspect to O'D's was the wonderful, traditional music played every Monday night for over thirty years. The kitchen was closed and the back dining area was devoted to the many musicians who came from all over the County to ply their trade. In the many years of going there, I've heard everything from Cole Porter to "Put Some Whiskey In My Whiskey" played by some of the finest musicians to be found at any venue anywhere. There had been rumors in recent weeks that it all might finally come to an end. But, of course, no one really wanted to believe. Where it all may wind up, right now, is any one's guess. It will certainly leave a void in my Monday evenings.

Kevin O'Donoghue, the family patriarch and the last proprietor, has been in declining health in recent years and the business has faded with him. Attempts to revive the business, including finding new owners, all proved ineffective. Long-time employees and valued customers started to abandon the place in droves. The food declined. The service suffered. The crowds disappeared. The end became inevitable.

I suppose that no one really expected the end to come - at least so quickly. Like most good things, we thought it would never end. But, nothing is permanent. Still, the memories made, the friends met, the good times had, cannot be erased or even diminished. In time, they too will become the stuff of legend.

When You Think About It: How Osama bin Laden Changed The World

Photo AP/Words F LoBuono

May 2nd will mark four years since Navy Seal Team 6 located and killed the world's most wanted terrorist, Osama bin Laden. In a recent conversation with a friend, we both marveled how effective the attacks on 911 actually were. When you think about it, nineteen men, under bin Laden's direction, fundamentally changed not only American but the entire world.

First, there are the physical changes. Security procedures, particularly those involved with travel, have become a part of our lives in ways they never were before. We leave our homes for the airport to catch flights much earlier than we had to in the pre-911 days. This, of course, is do to the increased screening process that all passengers must endure. However, leaving earlier cannot necessarily spare us the long lines caused by this heightened security. Removing one's shoes to check for bombs, once virtually impossible to conceive of, is now a matter of routine. Then, if you're "lucky", you may be singled out for additional screening where you may be groped thoroughly enough to make a prostitute blush. Even how we drive has changed. Restrictions, particularly for trucks,  are in place on many roads and bridges that must be accounted for. For example, trucks are only allowed on the upper roadway of the world's busiest bridge, the George Washington. This new traffic pattern limits the options for both cars and trucks, often causing delays.

But, it's not just the physical changes that have affected our lives so dramatically. It is the emotional aspect, as well. The way we THINK has changed. A certain paranoia has invaded our psyches. We are constantly barraged with messages of caution. The latest campaign urges citizens: if you see something, say something. And, we are constantly reminded that when it comes to another attack on America, it's not "if" but "when". Heavily armed police personnel can be found on many street corners and at virtually every transportation hub. Where seeing a policeman with an automatic weapon was once a rarity, it is common place now. And, that paranoia has seeped into so many aspects of our lives. Our foreign policy is dictated by it. We spend more on our military than most of the other major world powers combined. Our Congress passed the "Patriot Act", an almost draconian measure to eaves drop on ordinary Americans under the guise of national security. Even the way we train our police has changed in the post 911 environment. So-called Community Policing training has been replaced with that of a paramilitary type. The friendly, neighborhood cop, twirling his police baton has been replaced by a burly type holding an M-16.

I wonder if bin Laden, even in his wildest dreams, could have conceived of how effective the 911 attacks truly were. He did far more than destroy two buildings, damage another, and murder thousands of people. So, when you think about it, he wanted to change the world - and he did. Forever.

Today's FrankieFunFact.

William Congreve (1670-1729)

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

Most of us are familiar with that saying. Many people also associate it with Shakespeare. There are just two problems with this: One, it was not written by Shakespeare. And, two, it is not completely accurate. First, it was written in 1697 by William Congreve in his novel "Mourning Bride". Second, it should read -

Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor Hell a fury like a woman scorned.

Today's MOZEN: "A Meditation on 60".

Words and photo by F LoBuono

With my 60th birthday looming, I started to think about what that number might mean. To me it is just that, a number. However, it is still considered some type of milestone. I began to consider what that just might represent. This is what came to mind. . . 

It's called The Box for obvious reasons. There is nothing flashy about it at all. Some even call it downright ugly. But, beauty can be in the eye of the beholder. Stella always says that somethings are so ugly that they become kinda' beautiful. Be that as it may, it's still the most damned efficient multi-purpose vehicle on the road. A bit dinged with a few creases, it has logged 213,684 miles in its lifetime. Like a Timex, The Box takes a lickin' and keeps on tickin'. Change the oil, tune it up once every 100,000 miles, rotate the tires, put the key in the ignition, fire it up, and GO! There was 212,000 on the original clutch before it had to be replaced. Until then, it was virtually repair free from the day it was made. All wheel drive, The Box has never failed to get its cargo (people or otherwise) to where it needed to go. And, because of its very shape (a box) it can haul just about anything. In the rain, in the snow, in the heat, it's the mailman of the auto industry - never failing to make its appointed rounds. The miles-per-gallon isn't the greatest, but, hey, it ain't the worst either. Because it is a "high profile" vehicle, its taller than a normal passenger car giving greater visibility of the road. You can see well in advance of where you are headed. It has a five speed manual transmission, so you have to actually drive this vehicle. It has few amenities besides the AC and radio - no GPS, no heated seats, no additional wrinkles. In other words, it's old fashioned.

No, The Box may not be very exciting to look at or drive but, damn, it sure is fun. Its part truck, part car and all square (in every sense of the word). It really is everything a vehicle should be; safe, efficient, and, yes, even a bit different.

Today's MOZEN: Crime and Punishment 4/15/2015

Words and photo by F LoBuono

A post on Facebook has been making the rounds lately. It calls for an end to the cruelty associated with animal testing. Great. I'm all for it. But, it does not end there. It states that we could eliminate the need for testing on animals IF we use convicted pedophiles instead. Really.

I find this outrageous but many others find it completely reasonable. These people would argue that pedophiles are the lowest of the low. Those who commit crimes against the most innocent, i.e. children, are not deserving of any amount of compassion. None. They have no redeeming value what-so-ever. In fact, they should be singled out for worst type of abuse. It's easy to think that way. When we see someone callously hurt a child or a defenseless animal we want to strike out and make them pay and pay dearly. We want more than justice. We want revenge. And, we want it doled out with the maximum amount of pain. Somehow, by inflicting this cruelty on the perpetrators, we feel that justice will be served - "this will serve as a deterrent to any other who might even THINK about harming a child".

Nonsense.

First, the threat of cruel punishments has never been an effective deterrent to crime. Statistics show that even the threat of the death penalty does not necessarily decrease the number of crimes committed where that option is viable. So, that logic does not stand up to scrutiny. Second, and most importantly, the object is to ELIMINATE ALL CRUELTY whenever, and wherever, it may be found. Exchanging one type of cruelty for another does not eliminate the cruelty! In fact, it further perpetuates an attitude of hate and abuse that only feeds on itself. It becomes a terrible cycle that never ends. In fact, abusers usually become that way because they themselves were almost invariably abused as children. So, what are we teaching? What are we gaining? Are we eliminating the problem? Obviously, we are not.

Now, let's get this clear as well: pedophiles do not get to walk away free. There is such a thing as crime and punishment. Those who commit the crime must be prepared to do the time. However, there is a clear difference between justice and revenge. We, as civilized people, must distinguish between the two. Justice is sublime. When applied equally our society thrives. People have faith in the judicial system. When we act out of revenge and hate, we doom ourselves to a never ending cycle of cruelty and brutality where an eye for an eye just leaves the whole world blind. Don't be afraid of the light. We only need open our eyes to see it.

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness: only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate: only love can do that". Martin Luther King.

Today's MOZEN: How to Eat Humble Pie

Photo: C Imperatore Words: F LoBuono

First, seat yourself at the head of the table. This will insure that your embarrassment will have the maximum effect, seen by the most people. It will also fill you with a false sense of security that you might even be somewhat important. It's great for slapping down the ego. Next, make sure that you use a dirty utensil. A filthy spoon or fork will be sure to enhance any bitter or foul taste. Then, that BIG slice of Humble Pie should be served warm so that you savor the full assortment of fine flavors like humility and shame. Delicious!!

Today's MOZEN: He Ain't Heavy 4/9/2015

Photo: C Imperatore Words: F LoBuono

When seen side by side, there is no denying it. The resemblance is unmistakable. We even sound very much alike. If you telephoned our house asking for one of us while we still lived together, it might take a few minutes before you realized that you were talking to the "wrong" one. Our body language is virtually identical. People sometimes ask if we are twins. We are not. We are brothers - in every sense of the word. However, beyond the physical similarities, we are VERY different - at least in approach and attitude. We are both very much our own men. Still, we share on an elemental level that has created an unbreakable, special bond. Because of that connection, I have shared my deepest emotions with him that I would trust to no one else. Yet, on some levels, two people couldn't be more different.

My full baptismal name is Francis Joseph. In the Sicilian tradition followed by my family, the first born son's given name comes from the maternal grandfather (the Francis/Frank) and the middle from the father (the Joseph). My brother, younger than me by 2.5 years, is named Joseph Francis. Again, by tradition, the second son's given name comes from the father and his middle after the paternal grandfather, also coincidentally named Frank (Francis). So, even within our very names, there are striking similarities between my brother and I. Also, as circumstance would have it, the economic conditions of my family while we were growing up required my brother and I to share a very tiny bedroom. We did, however, still manage to have our own small beds - but only about a six inches apart from one another. So, for about eighteen years, my little brother Joe and I were about as close (literally) as two brothers could be. We have stayed that way (mostly) for over fifty five years. Still, with that said, our approach to people and life, is so different in so many ways.

From the beginning, the emotional and behavioral differences between Joseph and I were apparent - or so I am told. Where I can be hyper-kinetic, all sound and fury, my brother is a much quieter, calming presence. Our mother says that it took hours to get me to sleep and stay that way. Joe fell asleep almost instantly and slept deeply. In fact, so deeply that she would hold a mirror under his nose to make sure that he was still breathing! It's still the same way. Joe can sleep on a bed of nails. To the contrary, after a night with me, my sheets and pillows can be found in all sorts of contorted positions. Joseph's ability to sleep almost anywhere has served him well over the years in his job as a long-distance trucker. My inability NOT to, I suppose, has also served me well, too. In the news business, sleep can be seen as a liability. Joseph often laughs as he tells of growing up together when, in the middle of the night, I would be up, light on, pacing our tiny bedroom, mad with ideas. Anyone who spends the night with me now would find the same scenario.

Again, in contrast, my life seems to be a continuous barrage of words, either written or spoken. Joseph has never been a man of letters. I tell others that's so because between our older sister (another "talker") and me, there were no words left for him. But, he has a quiet, inner wisdom that's palpable. If a Hollywood central casting agent were asked to send over the classic "strong and silent type", Joseph would show up. It's one of the reasons I have never called him Joey - even when we were kids. To me, it just doesn't suit him and never will. It's either Joe or Joseph. They reflect the inner strength that he possess. That's why I have shared my most secret thoughts with him. They are respected, never judged, and held sacred.

He has a inquisitive mind but never showed much interest in formal education. Whereas I pursued my studies to the highest degree, after high school, Joe went to work doing what he loved - driving trucks. He was always most interested in just that one thing. Even as a kid, his most prized possession was his collection of Tonka Toy trucks (I think that he still has it). So, when he reached the right age, my parents re-mortgaged our home to buy him a tractor trailer and he went into business hauling freight. He never stopped. He has been driving for going on forty years now and shows no sign of letting up. I went on to earn a bachelor's degree and some masters credits. I even managed to teach at the college level. In a sense, it was a rich man/poor man scenario (although I never got THAT rich). However, even though our approach was different, we both shared a strong desire that we learned from our parents to be the best at whatever we attempted. In a sense, we have taken different roles to arrive at the same destination.

Another curious difference between us is that Joe is so much neater in appearance and practice than I am. Really. One might think that, as the "trucker", Joe would be less interested in style and grooming. Well, the complete opposite is true. He may not wear Brooks Brothers suits but he will top of the line LL Bean down jackets or Tony Lama boots. And, all of his clothes are immaculate. So is his person. He regularly showers two times a day and wears the most expensive colognes. My fashion sense can be demonstrated by my favorite store: Grace Thrift Shop of Nyack, NY. I do shower regularly and shave every other day. However, clothes shopping is not habitual for me. And, I do not even own aftershave!

We have shared adventures, many of them while trucking together all over the Country. We have laughed a lot and cried a bunch, too. We have experienced too many ups and downs together to mention - a whole lifetimes worth. And, there have been times of anger, too. There were many months when we did not speak. However, I never felt comfortable in our silence. Still, our bond is in a realm beyond words. Despite our differences, our souls are the same. And, neither one of us would have it any other way.


PS: Joe is NEVER seen without his glasses. I only wear them to read. :)

Today's MOZEN: A Meditation on Spring

Words and photo by F LoBuono

It was the first truly warm day of the still virgin Spring. And, it was glorious. The winter had been so long and brutal. Even fans of the season (of which, I am NOT) found the incredibly long duration to be punishing. But, with an explosion of sunshine and a warm breeze blowing out of the southwest, it was all virtually forgotten. The crocus and lilies were finally poking their colorful little heads through the fresh earth. One could take a leisurely walk into town without calculating how long you could go without exposing your skin to the danger of frostbite. You could tarry during your sojourn to have a civil conversation with neighbors you haven't seen in months. You might even consider taking a seat on a park bench to watch the world go by without the fear that your butt might freeze to the bench. You would notice the return of the song birds to brighten your day. And, for the first time in eons, you could open a window in your home and smell the fresh air.

How wonderful it all was.

It made me consider that if, without the contrast provided by such a bleak winter, the first, real Spring day would feel as good? I think that, perhaps, it would not. Sure, a bright, sunny day is a blessing at any time and in any place. However, without the depth of feeling provided by knowing that those days are indeed special, I don't think the feeling would be as intense. It is the yin and yang that is life. Without darkness, can we truly appreciate the light? Without pain, can we really know joy fully? Without loss, can we ever be entirely grateful for what we have? Without the darkness and cold of Winter, would we hold the light and warmth of Spring as dear?

Persephone has returned to the earth and we share in her joy.

Today's FrankieFunFact 4/3/2014

Words and photo by F LoBuono

Two rivers, the Hudson on the West side and the Harlem on the East, form the northern barrier of the island of Manhattan. The clash of the two rivers coming together create dangerous rip tides. Because of this, the original Dutch sellers called the area Spuyten Duyvil or "devils spout". I had previously believed that name to mean "devils elbow". I stand corrected.