Monday, November 27, 2017

Today's MOZEN: The UGLY Truth

F LoBuono

Perhaps, I am preaching to the choir and, therefore, wasting my time. Because ANYONE of conscious, ANYONE with a shred of decency, ANYONE with even a modicum of intelligence has to realize that our Country is the hands of a man who is so deficient in so many ways that it would be laughable if it wasn't so god damned serious!!

As if embarrassing faux pas after faux pas weren't reason enough to sound alarm bells then lie after lie should be!

Mr. Trump's bewilderingly inane statements are too frequent to mention - just the latest being his incredibly insensitive and grossly inappropriate comments made this afternoon while attempting to honor Native American "Code Breakers" for their service.

Then there is lie after lie (I was going to say fabrication, but that's too nice a word for it). They are, again, simply too many to delineate. Let's just deal with the latest: his claim that he was "kind of offered" the prestigious Person of the Year honor from Time Magazine which he declined via Tweet. The magazine vehemently denies Mr. Trump's claim.

And, of course, there are his frequent attacks on A FREE PRESS and ANYONE who has the audacity to challenge him on his, so far, woeful Presidency (see CNN)!

Simply put, he is an abysmal failure in every way - as a leader, a legislator, and, as a PERSON. At this point calling him an embarrassment would be an understatement!!

I have friends and family who have supported Mr. Trump from the very beginning. I believe that like most of his core, they still do. Well, I'm sorry to have to say this but, at this point, SHAME ON YOU. Shame on all of you for refusing to see the ugly truth that is right in front of you . . .


Saturday, November 25, 2017

Today's MOZEN: To Take Arms

F LoBuono

In recent weeks, it seems that I have come under a lot of criticism. Of course, when you write a blog as provocative as I hope this one is, it comes with the territory. And, I own everything that I write and, so, accept that challenge.

However, one thing that I have found totally unacceptable is the amount of personal attacks that have assailed everything from my intelligence to my morality. A complete stranger actually sent me a private Facebook message to say that making street photos of children was "creepy". I've been making photos of strangers of all ages, documenting life on the streets of Nyack for 35 years. Now, it's "creepy"? I was also assailed for defending my First Amendment Right to make and post random photos made in public. Another stranger tried to Facebook shame me into relinquishing that right without fully understanding all the factors that led to my decision to post photos in the first place.

Now, I know that I can be a polarizing figure. Anyone who is as opinionated as I am is bound to be. Again, I accept that. In fact, I revel in it - mostly! I will also challenge YOU on your thoughts and opinions. I like to think that I bring my "A" game to a debate and I expect others who engage me to do the same. This, at times, can give me the appearance of being arrogant. I have also been called a bully because I argue my point of view with great passion. Again, that comes with the territory. And, I expect the same from those who present opposing view points. But, I have NEVER retaliated with ad homonym attacks. I never make it personal. As much as I would sometimes like to, I never call anyone an idiot or moron. There is no place for that in effective discourse.

Well, I do have something to say. And it's my blog, my voice, so I am going to say what I feel and hold nothing back! It's the only way I know how to be - straightforward and upfront. What you see is what you get, in every sense of the word. It's kind of the whole damned point!

But, to say the constant snipping has had no effect on me would be counter to everything I said about honesty. It does hurt - so much so that it had changed the way that I approached controversial topics with my writing and how I created my street photography. I have already passed by dozens of wonderful, candid photos from the streets of Nyack, partially because I don't want the hassles of explaining why I made them and partially because my feelings were hurt and I simply did not want to make the effort.

The same can be true of my writing.

When I attempted to create a dialogue concerning the recent spate of sexual assault allegations against numerous powerful men, I was vilified by many (although not all) simply for making an effort to try to understand WHY this might be happening. I made an honest effort to delve into the psyches of both men and women and present my findings backed by personal experience and scientific fact like evolution. Again, for this, I was castigated.

So, contrary to my nature, I pulled back. I mean, did I REALLY need the aggravation?

In a nutshell - Yes, I do.

I can't teach my students (I actually DO teach journalism at Fordham University) to be intrepid in finding their voices if I am not equally so. I can't tell them to be fearless with their street photography, exercising their 1st Amendment rights, if I do not practice it as well - especially now when our voices in opposition of so many things going wrong in our Country are absolutely essential.

No.

As I will not silence others, so I will not be silenced!

In Shakespeare's famous soliloquy, Hamlet says, to be or not to be, that is the question: Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, or to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them.

I have made my choice - I will continue to take arms against a sea of troubles and by opposing end them. If that's not good enough for others, that's their problem and not mine.

I'm moving on.




Thursday, November 23, 2017

Today's MOZEN: Just like Tazz

There are number of popular Internet memes that range from what historic figure you are most like to what Hollywood icon do you closely resemble? But, perhaps, my favorite one is, what animated/cartoon character mimics your personality best?

Off the top of my head, I would like to say Bugs Bunny. I mean Bugs is always so cool. He just never gets rattled under pressure. And, he usually escapes the normal mayhem without so much of a finger lifted. Instead, he relies on his wits and charm to win the day. Who can forget the episode when Bugs is confronted by a muscle bound gorilla who is determined to wipe the floor with the intrepid rabbit. Is Bugs intimated by the gorilla's muscular physique? Absolutely not! In fact, by the end of the episode, Bugs' antics have reduced the monster to a quivering mass of jelly. THAT'S cool!

Now, I would like to say that I am just like him - but, it simply would not be true. In reality, I am nothing like Bugs.

My personality is much more akin to Tazz, the drooling, whirling dervish of a Tasmanian Devil than it is to Mr. Bunny's. He is the complete antithesis of Bugs. Where Bugs is rarely, if EVER, rattled, Tazz is the epitome of kinetic energy. In fact, he never simply walks - oh, no - his movements resemble a tornado in motion with accompanying buzz saw sound effect. He leaves a path of destruction in his wake and communicates through a series of slurps and grunts. And, he is generally ill-tempered.

Just like me.





Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Today's MOZEN: Thanksgiving 2017

F LoBuono

When I was a kid, Thanksgiving at my grandmother's house in Brooklyn were feasts of extraordinary quality. My family combined the best of Sicilian culinary arts with the new found American traditions. So, we had meals of seven courses or more. My grandmother, mother, and aunts would meet a few days in advance to visit the local markets to buy the freshest ingredients available.

Then, they went to work.

I remember sitting in the living room of the old townhouse, listening to the women solve all of the world's problems while they worked their savory magic. The result was nothing short of spectacular: fresh, crisp salad, soup with beans, meatballs and escarole, stuffed artichokes, more homemade meatballs, tomato sauce and pasta, various fresh vegetables, and, of course, the main course - roasted turkey. Wine, beer, water, and seltzer was readily available for everyone - yes, even the children, too. After dinner, fruits like grapes, bananas, oranges, apples, and, a Sicilian favorite, fresh fennel provided the next palate pleaser.  And, should that not be enough, there were a choice of traditional American sweets like apple or pumpkin pie and Sicilian ones like cannolis. Of course, you could wash it all down with coffee or espresso.

And, then there was the company.

My grandmother, mother, father, aunts, uncles, and cousins were all there - often upwards of 20 people. The adults sat at the "big table" in my grandmother's dinning room while the kids were relegated the one in the basement, their squeals of joy floating up the basement stairs. We were, indeed, one, big, happy family.

But, those days are long gone. At least for my immediate family. My grandfather passed my years ago as has my father. My cousins went on to create their own families and made new memories. So, my mother, brother, sister and I will dine together on food prepared by someone else and brought to my sister's house. None of us have spouses or children, so it's just us. We'll spend a few hours together and share our delicious prepared meal. Then, as I have done for the last 17 years, I'll head to work.

But, there is still much to be thankful for. There always is . . .


Sunday, November 19, 2017

Today's MOZEN: Like Granite

F LoBuono


There are days when I envision myself as a solid block of polished granite - massive, gleaming, cold, dense, inert, impenetrable, immovable.

But, even granite is not eternal. Nor, it is indestructible. It can be chipped and nicked. And, it can be worn down. Even the mighty granite stairs leading to Europe's great cathedrals show the wear and tear of millions of feet stomping on them for hundreds of years.

It often leaves me wondering: is it better to be the feet than the stairs. . . 


Saturday, November 18, 2017

An Open Letter to the People of Alabama

F LoBuono

SWEET HOME ALABAMA, WHERE THE SKIES ARE SO BLUE (and, the governor's true).

Indeed.

In fairness, I should begin by saying that I have never truly known anyone from Alabama. Ever. In fact, I don't even know anyone who knows anyone from Alabama. About all that I do know about the State is that the University has a great football team and it was one of the most segregated places I've ever been to.

In the Spring off 2010 I spent some time there covering the Gulf Oil Spill Disaster for CBS News. I remember being pleasantly surprised by the beauty and opulence of some of Alabama's Gulf Coast communities like Gulf Shores. I also recall how overwhelmingly white the area was. When the crew would go out for dinner, our African-American correspondent, Terrell Brown, was almost invariably the only person of color in the restaurant. And, when we were graciously invited to a 4th of July celebration in the town of Magnolia Springs, the organizers "alerted" me that Mr. Brown would be the only black to partake in the festivities. Now, it's important to add that they did not say that in malice - it was just stated as a matter of fact.

Unfortunately, this is the image that most people of Alabama - a bigoted, segregated, ignorant place

Of course, painting with such a broad brush is indeed a slippery slope. But, the claims are not totally without validity. Adding to the horrible images of the attack of marchers on the William Pettus Bridge and countless other Civil Right atrocities associated with the place, we now have an accused child molester, Judge Roy Moore, being touted as the next US Senator from the Great State of Alabama. The silver-haired, ultra-conservative, Republican Governor, Kay Ivey, has, despite her disgust at the alleged charges against Mr. Moore, decided to continue to support his election. And, she is not alone. Most experts feel that, despite the despicable allegations against Moore, the race will be decided by the thinnest of margins.

Really.

Of course, there MUST BE good people in Alabama. There just HAVE to be!

Well, it's time that they step up and do the right thing! This is a unique opportunity for them to prove that they can do more than just play really good football on Saturdays and pray really hard on Sundays!

PEOPLE OF ALABAMA - show me and the world how wrong we are to think of you as a bunch of ignorant, right-wing, ultra-religious, bigots who are happy to stick their collective middle fingers in our faces just to say you can. Tell me and the others to go fuck ourselves for THE RIGHT REASONS - because you DO believe in justice, freedom, and equality.






Friday, November 17, 2017

Today's MOZEN: Trickle 'On Down

F LoBuono

A leopard can't change its spots. A zebra can't change its stripes. And, the Republicans will never pass a tax reform bill that ultimately favors the middle class.

They are all hackneyed phrases.

They are all also true.

As is my K.I.S.S (keep it simple, stupid - referring to me, of course) philosophy, here is my brief version as to why:

It is not in the GOP's ethos or raison d'etre. Simple put, it's not what they are about - never have been and never will be. It's just not in their DNA (my god, I'm full of hackneyed phrases today!). They are the party of MONEY.

The Republican platform, when it comes to economics can be summed up (K.I.S.S) as Trickle Down Ecomics. That is; if you reward people of money, i.e. wealthy business owners, they will use their natural born drive to make more money by creating more jobs for the middle and lower classes, thereby driving a thriving economy.

So, there you have it in a nutshell - Trickle Down Economics.

What is so worrisome to me is that, despite the facts presented by the economists that I have read disputing the effectiveness of this platform, the GOP has been able to sell it to working people for years.

And, still do.

The current version of tax reform legislation that just passed the GOP controlled House and is currently in the Senate, is just another version. I readily admit that I am not an economist - haven't even really studied it all that much. But, despite those who may see it to the contrary, I'm not an idiot, either. This bill is another Republican attempt to say to the middle and lower classes; Trust us. Let us and our cronies make BIG money and we PROMISE that you'll get SOME of it.

What is so amazing to me is that the working and middle classes have bought it for years.

And, still do.

Of course, thank god, this is STILL a free Country and we have the ability to make our own choices. It's time to make yours.

Be heard.




Tuesday, November 14, 2017

Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT STORY: The Song Bird

F LoBuono
It was time for my monthly shearing so, as is my custom, I walked to my local barbershop for a trim. I arrived a bit early so I deposited myself on one of the cushy, pleather-lined couches and picked up a copy of the NY Post that was lying there (perfect reading to kill time - great sports and good gossip).

While perusing the newspaper, I heard a rustling coming from one of corners. I looked up to notice a white cage with a small, brightly colored bird fluttering around in it. I'm no ornithologist but it looked like some thing in the finch family. The tiny bird eventually lilted on its water dish and began to sing. I couldn't believe the joyous sound that was coming out of that little body! He (I assumed that it was a male because of the signing - males do it to attract mates) went up and down the musical scale, signing with a loud, clear voice. It was simply brilliant and made me smile.

Then, it made me very sad.

That song was SO beautiful but I couldn't help but feel that it was falling mostly on deaf ears. That bird was using that beautiful voice in the most natural of ways - to attract a female - in the most unnatural of settings - a small cage in the corner of a barbershop. It made me very sad - and, still does. That poor bird is destined to spend the rest of his life in a confined area, making music for ears not fully appreciative of the beauty it holds. But, then again, that in of itself, is kind of miraculous: despite its rather woeful situation, that bird sang as beautifully as if he were in a verdant mountain meadow. Marvelous.

That little guy kept signing until a got into the chair - a good 10 minutes with pause. Eventually, he stopped and the only sound I heard was that of the barber's scissors. . .

Saturday, November 11, 2017

Today's MOZEN: Happenstance

F LoBuono

It really is extraordinary - the happenstance of it all.

This afternoon was yet another example.

It had been a particularly long and difficult week. I found myself defending my 1st Amendment rights for posting an innocent and rather innocuous photograph that I made in public on Facebook. Despite that it is neither illegal or immoral to make and post photos of ANYONE made in a public place, I was attacked for being unethical. But, that is a story for another post. The point I wanted to make here was that the argument became personal and vicious - so much so that I started to go into a deep depression.

I was driving to work with the radio on and in no particular hurry. I had left sufficient time to take a leisurely pace. And, so, I was enjoying the music and the bright, late fall sunshine, trying to distract myself from the ugliness I was still feeling quite disturbed about the whole incident. It was then, when I glanced up, quite by accident, that I caught her out of the corner of my eye. Soaring about 50 feet about the highway, wings spread wide, bright white belly exposed, was a Red Tailed Hawk. Her flight across the road couldn't have lasted more than a few seconds before she disappeared in the tree line. But, that was enough. You should have seen the size of the smile cross my face.


Red Tailed Hawks have always been special to me in the way that many Native American cultures see as a Familiar or Spirit Guide. I interpret this to mean is that all humans have a counterpart of sorts within the animal kingdom, i.e. a creature whose behaviors and essence (soul) mostly mimic our own. Because they are like us but are not us, they can show us the way out of difficult situations and towards solutions. For me, it's the hawk. She lifted my spirit on the strength of her magnificent wings and carried my blues away. Tomorrow is another day - with all the promise to make ANYTHING happen. It's time to move on. And, this isn't the first time this has happened to me. It seems whenever I am at my lowest point, a hawk magically appears to show me the way.

You just have to believe. . .

Friday, November 3, 2017

Today's MOZEN: What's in a Name?

F LoBuono

My true, given name, i.e. the one on my birth certificate, is Francis Joseph LoBuono. Yes, my real name is Francis. The problem is NO ONE has ever called me that except my mother - when she's pissed off at me, or childhood friends who wanted to make fun of me - you know, insinuating that it's also a girl's name (which is true - with a slightly different spelling - Frances).

I never responded to Francis, partially because no one ever called me that, but, also because I simply did not like it.

First, Francis always sounded so formal -and, I'm a pretty informal guy. The more straightforward Frank suited me just fine. Besides, I did not care for the duality of the name, i.e. being the same for a man or a women. A name should be for one gender or the other. At least that's the way I felt as a kid.

Second, I was named after my maternal grandfather, Francesco. But, as my immigrant family was desperately trying to assimilate, they wanted me to have the Anglicized version - Frank. However, as I was also baptized as a Catholic, I had to be given a saints name. Since there is no Saint Frank but there are at least two Saint Francis', that's what appeared on my birth certificate. So, there you have the history.

Simple, right?

Many people also call me Frankie. And, despite the fact that I'm 62 and most see that as a kid's moniker, I don't mind at all. In fact, I'll answer to Frankie WAY before I will to Francis! In an odd twist, my mother will frequently calls me Frankie while my brother and sister rarely do, preferring Frank. When people ask me if I mind being called a name mostly reserved for juveniles, I usually respond by saying that I prefer it to being called Tom.

I suppose the bottom line is this: you can call me Frank or Frankie. Just don't call be late for dinner - or, Francis.

That is all.

EVERYONE has a story to tell. Here are some inspired by my tale. Thanks to all:

I was named for my mom, her middle name Lois Elaine. I have no middle. Odd    Elaine Oberkehr Sedan

I was born Mary Mitchell (no middle name either, Elaine.) My mother wanted Elizabeth as a middle, but both grandmother's were Mary and dad said, Let's not favor. When I married, being the feminist I am, I never took my husband's surname. So, I was, am and always will be Mary Mitchell. I like it.           Mary Mitchell


I am Elizabeth. But my sister came up with nickname, Lisa. My family and friends have always called me Lisa. Where it gets confusing is on paper, legal docs. I have had a SS# since I was 2 yrs old ( I was a model and on the cover of My Baby magazine in 1958). So I needed a SS#. But my driver's license/ passport says Elizabeth. I voted under Lisa until I moved to South Jersey. Then through a mix up, I needed to be Elizabeth. All my years of income taxes had been Lisa. Car insurance and airplane tickets are Elizabeth. Aren't you glad you asked, Frank?        Lisa Meyer

The name om my Birth Certificate is Elizabeth Louise Pinheiro. The only people who ever used Elizabeth were the Nuns and Teachers in Grammar school. They would never allow me to be called Betty. However for some strange reason it was alright for my Classmates to use Liz. When I went to High School I always went by Betty. My last name was always butchered because the h and i are silent but everyone insisted on pronouncing them.     Betty Pinheiro Bennett


 I was named after my Dad who is Michael Joseph Mackin. My Dad had a twin, named after my grandfather, John Mackin ( who was born Anthony John Mackin, but that's another story.)My folks didn't want me to be a "Jr.",So I was named Michael John. To this day, my Aunt and Uncle , my cousins, and even some of my nieces call me, as if it were one word, "Michaeljohn "   Michael Mackin

If someone calls me Judith it has to be a grammar school classmate or my Dad! Lol     Judith DePietro Mekles

Karen Ann Waldbusser. I love my father with all that I am but I used to beg him to shorten it and delete the busser! I have ptsd: Waldbanger, Ball Buster, Buzzer etc. I would die on the first day of school as the teachers tried to pronounce it.
Karen Heller.