Today's MOZEN: The Bucket List - NYE in Times Square

All words and photos by F LoBuono

During my long career as a photojournalist for CBS News in New York, I had the opportunity to not only experience the events many would include on their so-called Bucket Lists, but to be well-paid for it to boot (an important distinction - more later).

These lists often include events that may present challenges with participating in but appear to be worth the experience - well, at least once anyway.

2 of these are Mardi Gras in New Orleans and New Years Eve in Times Square. 

We'll save Mardi Gras for Lent.

I covered New Years Eve from Times Square about a half dozen times for CBS (about 5X's too many). And, I have to say that it is everything that a Bucket-List event should be - because it IS an enormous challenge to accomplish for a very rewarding experience, even if the culmination lasts but a few, shinning moments.

As a photographer, my day started early and ended the same way - early the NEXT day. We would take a taxi from the CBS Broadcast Center on W57th St. with our gear as far as we could go and fight the already assembling crowds to get to our position at the main stage in the heart of Times Square. One year, the crowd was thick that a couple of burly NYPD officers literally passed me, my partner - and our gear - over the crowd to get in place!

The Main Stage, Times Square

By the time we finally got in with our stuff it must have been around noon. We would be on the multi-level platform facing the Main Performance Stage just below the legendary Ball Drop.

You certainly couldn't get a better seat in the house. We were usually situated in the position just below CNN. I remember how they started with Kathy Griffin and Anderson Cooper - before she committed professional suicide and was replaced by Andy Cohen.

Traditionally, next to us was one of the Spanish stations which always managed to rock the platform with too many people having way too good a time!

And, I remember the weather.

Some years we got lucky and the temperatures hovered at freezing or just above. But, I recall that most years we battled the brutal cold for hours at end. At least I could move around the platform a bit, mingle with the crown for interviews, and even use a bathroom in a nearby hotel that was reserved for the press. The civilians waiting in the cattle pens lining Times Square would have no such luxury.

Still, it was enormously challenging. I can still feel the near frostbite in my fingers and toes! I can only imagine how those poor bastards penned up with no chance for leaving until released managed. It must have been very high on their lists for them to go through this.

As the day, evening, and night wore on, the excitement continued to build and it was palpable. The performers were deliberately chosen for their pulsating stage presence - and they never disappointed, whipping the crowd into a frenzy.

Despite the cold and what must have been bursting bladders (NO bathroom trips allowed), the crowd was simply euphoric. They were penned in like cattle, shoulder to shoulder, from every corner of the Country and Globe - for hours. Yet, there was NO violence. NO anger. NO Trouble - Only singing, comradery, and LOVE.

Millions of them!

Then, the Countdown beings:

TEN, NINE, EIGHT . . . 

The excitement builds to a fever pitch . . . 

THREE, TWO, ONE . . .

Then EUPHORIA .

HAPPY YEAR!!

We an explosion of fireworks and the dropping of a magnificent crystal ball, the enormous crowd erupts as one - singing, crying, and hugging.

I've never experienced a single, collective moment of good will like it. Even if for a brief moment, the WORLD IS AS ONE.

And, that my friends, is why it's worth it -

. . . and, I got paid a lot.

HAPPY NEW YEAR - EVERYONE!!

Epilogue: The NYPD and the Department of Sanitation are among the best in the world. Millions of people have assembled, virtually without incident - and, the detritus from it is cleaned up with an hour. 

The Clean up

Today's MOZEN: Moving On

The world keeps turning - sometimes in odd and ironic ways - but turn it does.

I was a recent recipient of just such an ironic twist.

21 years ago, at the age of 45, I decided to marry for the first time. Not only did I marry, but I decided that after all those years of childless bachelorhood, I choose a woman with three, healthy, wild boys aged 12-16.

I like challenges.

My friends thought that I was crazy.

They were probably right.

But, despite her three children, Catherine (who very appropriately asked to be called Cat, never Cathy) was wonderfully wild and fiercely independent. Like the proverbial moth to flame, I couldn't resist.

We burned brightly - for a while. When we were right, we could light up a room with our energy.

And, we traveled the world.

But, then, things changed and we drifted. We no longer had that creative energy that drove our wagon. We started to go our separate ways more and more until, one day, Cat simply went away - entirely.

After 12 years of marriage she decided that she needed to find another way to happiness and just split. She took a 10 week temporary lease on an apartment in the City, something she had always dreamed of doing. The boys (now men) and I were left to fend for ourselves - and we did - as best we could - until it all fell apart. it wasn't as if we were destitute but our center was gone.

I thought there was gas left in that car. I mean, who junks a car simply because it needs to be refueled or tuned-up?

But, that was just me.

Literally.

It was over.

Still, I dallied for a full ten years. 10 years!

Perhaps, in the back of my head, I always believed that somehow we would be able to come together to recapture that old magic we once had. And, I made half-hearted attempts at reconciliation - all to no avail. But, it was also simple laziness. After all, it was just over and no peace of paper was going to change that. That's between two people. So, why bother?

It takes two to tango and I found myself dancing in the dark - alone.

She was no longer interested - and never would be again.

It was time to take action. There were legal implications. Who would inherit my vast fortune, etc.? LOL

After a grueling, brutal process that was MUCH more difficult than it should have been (a post for another day), We finally completed and filed the paperwork with the Rockland County Court to begin our final chapter - divorce.

This happened on Christmas Eve, 21 years to the day to the day I first proposed - and, she said, yes.

On the drive home, in a further twist of fate, Anne Lennox' version of The Clash's, Train In Vain, played on the radio.

The irony was not lost - on me, at least.

Almost a Shakespearean Tragedy, don't you think?

Or, perhaps, a comedy instead.

There was noting to contest anyway. We have no children together. The grand house we owned is long ago sold and the bounty divided. I have no claim on any of her property and she none on mine. And, I want nothing. Nothing. I don't even have a wedding photo.

It was what it was, when it was . . . 

Indeed my friends, World Keeps Turning.

 

Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT STORY: Christmas - Then and Now

With Stella

When I was a kid, Christmas was always a modest affair at the LoBuono's - well, with the exception of the incredible food we had on both the Eve and Day.

The Eve in particular, with the legendary, traditional Sicilian Feast of the Seven Fishes, prepared by hand over the course of several days by my mother, Stella, our house was the envy of many of my non-participating friends. To get an invite to the feast was a much- coveted ticket! Shrimp, in various forms, calamari - both fried and sautéed, fillet of sole, and, of course, my mother's favorite, Baccala, or salted cod, that she had soaked in water for days and prepared in a potato soup, was served with sturdy red wine (and club soda, of course).

Yes. Those were the days. Stella is nearly 98 and no longer capable of making that kind of effort. My sister is simply too busy. And, I'm a good cook - just not that good! But, all is not lost - we have it catered now - maybe not the same but who cares? The food is always excellent and we eat TOGETHER.

Back to the past -

We did our best to decorate our house with strings of lights. I always wanted to do more but Stella would have none of it - understatement was more her thing. And, she may have been right. Her favorite thing was a few strings of simple, white lights strung over the lilac tree in the center of our yard. It was beautiful. Stella also didn't like pine needles all over the living room so we always had a nice, white (or silver) tree - never real - I always missed that wonderful fresh, earthy smell. But, I must say that both my mother AND father did have beautiful, traditional ornaments, many of them family heirlooms, to decorate the tree with, making it beautiful still.

Of course, there were presents under that tree - but, not many. We received one gift from our parents, one from each our grandmothers, and one from my mother's sister (my aunt, Anna Maria). My brother and sister contributed when they could (not that often, LOL). Our parents were not of great means but always did their best to get us that one gift that we wanted so very much. I was always thrilled to receive just about anything. A new baseball mitt might have sent me off squealing with glee. My sister was not so easy to please and couldn't help hiding her disappointment if she didn't get the exact gift she had asked for.

The rest of our bounty usually provided the other ancillary stuff that we didn't necessarily want but sure needed! With the possible exception of a nice sweater or shirt, that usually meant things like underwear and socks. We always feigned great pleasure at having received them.

We opened most of them on Christmas Eve. We simply couldn't wait for the morning! We may have left one or two (or our parents hid them) to have one more dose of excitement for the morning but the majority were eagerly exchanged on the Eve.

Well, 50+ years later and some things have changed and some haven't. We're so much smaller as a family that our wonderful meals have not been eliminated but greatly reduced. None of us had children so, sadly, many of the traditions just faded away. Those BIG Christmas Day meals at my grandmother's in Brooklyn with all of my aunts, uncles, and cousins are gone forever. And, we are still very modest with our giving (and receiving). It was just never THAT important and still isn't. What IS crucial is that those of us who have survived are TOGETHER  and will celebrate that very fact.

And, one more thing - as for the underwear and socks? I've aged to the point where I actually asked for them - and, slippers too!

MERRY CHRISTMAS - PEACE ON EARTH - GOODWILL TO ALL

Today's MOZEN: In The Quiet of Morning

Words and photo by F LoBuono

In the quiet still of some mornings, before the rest of the apartments in my building come to life and with no TV, music or other unnatural sounds except for the ticking of an old clock to distract me, I have the time and inclination to reflect.

Sometimes, the mornings are ablaze with golden sunshine. At others, like this morning, the skies are grey and dreary. For most of them, just before the coming of full light, the multitude of birds serenade me with a natural symphony that man-made music can only hope to recreate.

Then, almost as suddenly as they appeared, the birds are gone, leaving me alone once again, except for the ticking of the clock and the deep thoughts in my subconscious mind surging to the surface.

I simply sit and soak it all in, letting my feelings wash over me like a hot bath after a cold walk into town.

That's when they come to me.

- all of those whom I have loved and who have loved me and gone before.

There is no pressure on my part to make them come. I simply open my mind to the possibility that they may once again appear, if only in my mind's eye.

And, if I believe, they do come.

I most often smile but I sometimes cry as well. I miss them all - my father, Paul, Cynthia, Jim. And the critters, too - Sammy, Franny, Belle Star, The Bear, Big Red. . . I am thankful to have had them (and, still DO) in my life. I love them all.

They are always brief visits. The world keeps turning. We, I, must move on. It's time to take a shower and truly begin the day. Besides, the young couple in the apartment above me is now awake. I hear their footsteps as they begin their own day, too. And, if I wait too long, they'll be no hot water left for that shower!

I suppose, in this Season of Thanks, I am grateful to have those in my life today and to those who have touched my life in so many ways and continue to do so in new, magical ones.

Today's MOZEN: The Bag of Groceries

It's been going for years - at least 6 by my observations. I first wrote about it at this time in 2015 (https://talk-frank.blogspot.com/2015/11/todays-mozen-its-matter-of-mind.html) during a difficult period in our County.

And, it's been happening ever since.

It's one of the reasons that I love this place. 

Certainly, that was the first time I happened to notice but it may have been going for longer without my knowledge: a simple paper grocery bag filled with canned goods that would be suitable to serve with a nice turkey dinner appears at the bus stop on the corner that separates the villages of Nyack and South Nyack. Obviously, the cans are available to anyone who may need them.

It's funny, because just a week ago or so I passed the spot and wondered if the grocery bag would be back.

Well, sure enough, at the same corner bus stop, there was the bag stuffed with cans of cranberry sauce, corn, and vegetables.

At The Bus Stop, Broadway and Cedar Hill

To this day, I have no idea who does this. I've never witnessed anyone deposit it there. Perhaps they do so in the dead of night as to remain anonymous.

A truly selfless act of kindness.

Whomever they may be, they represent the true meaning of Thanksgiving. And, they are blessed.

Today's MOZEN: Lessons From A Fern

It certainly isn't the most beautiful specimen of Boston fern.

But, a few years ago, it was.

That same plant was thriving - lush and deep green. I found a great spot for it and treated it with TLC, even misting it with cool water every day.

Then, early one Spring day, I decided to move it, at least temporarily, to a spot where it could get a little more sun.

I should have left well enough alone. . . 

I forget it in that spot and it turned out to be a much hotter day than had been expected. Since, ferns like indirect sunlight, it burned - badly - and, began dropping leaves almost immediately.

No matter how hard I tried to reverse the process, the defoliation continued until there were a only a few, pathetic little sprigs remaining.

It seemed hopeless and friends suggested that I simply get rid of it and get myself a brand new, full, healthy one.

But, that's not my way.

Perhaps, at least among my close friends, I have a well-earned reputation for hanging on to things way past their so-called expiration dates. These may include items of clothing that are down to their last threads (pun intended) to partially broken tools, and, yes, barely alive plants. My friends kindly call me frugal - not cheap, but frugal. This may be accurate but it doesn't tell the full story.

Now, before you get the wrong impression, I am NOT a hoarder! My apartment, although full of the mementoes of my life, may be a little cluttered but it is also clean and orderly - sort of like my brain!

But, we are experiencing an environmental crisis that borders on catastrophe. And, perhaps the largest culprit in that crisis is WASTE. 

We have become a disposal society where planned obsolescence is not even noticed; use something for a while, then simply throw it away where it magically disappears.

Well, where do you think it all goes?

Sneakers are a great example.

They are often made with sturdy materials that make them last - a good thing BUT also a bad one. It's good because you need them to be durable when you wear them, but bad when you need to dispose of them - because they will take so long in the landfill to decay.

So, the key is to make sure that we get every last measure of use out of everything we consume - everything.

Now, back to the fern.

Since it was clinging to life, I made it a mission to see if I could restore it to good health. It had nothing to do with $ - they're $20! It was a matter of giving it a chance to not only survive, but thrive once again - to simply not waste.

I found a good place on my porch for it this past summer - not too hot and with some filtered sunlight. I misted it and watered it regularly. And, it never moved from that spot.

Slowly but surely, I began to notice another green shoot rise from the brown remains of the former plant - then another - then another - until most of the dead, brown shoots were being replaced by small, fresh, green ones.

But, I had to remove it from its berth on the porch for the winter. So, I located a spot with similar logistics in my bedroom and placed it there. So far, so good. The plant has responded with even more new shoots! If it continues at this pace it will only be a few more months before that plant is just about as good as new.

Of course, this is also a metaphor.

Don't be so anxious to throw things away. Use them in their totality. It honors them and you. Of course, I apply this most to human beings. No person is obsolete. They may be damaged and a mere vestige of what they once were. But, they still have value. And, with a little kindness and compassion can once again experience a full bloom.

A Healthy Boston Fern

Today's MOZEN: The GREAT Experiment

So much has already been said. And, so much more will be. Besides, what more is there TO say? Whatever might have been cannot undo what has already be done. There is NO Double Indemnity here.

However, if I may add some brief comments:

My heart aches with rage and frustration today, mostly for the families of those lost to Mr. Rittenhouse's callous disregard for human life. But, I also fear for what my Country seems to be becoming - more and more each day; filled with anger, rage, and discord.

However, I will not - cannot - lose faith in the great experiment that is American Democracy. We have survived outrage before. And, unfortunately, we will again. There have been MANY failures (despite those who will not acknowledge them). But, this IS the experiment. If we do not lose hope in achieving a greater good we WILL survive. In fact, if we learn from this, we can only get better. Still, if we keep making the same mistakes over and over, then we are doomed to fail.

I will not watch the news of Mr. Rittenhouse's so-called triumph and the praise that will be heaped upon him by many. I will not even watch those bold enough to protest against the decision.

I'm moving on with an eye to learn from this and do whatever I can to insure that it cannot happen again.

I urge everyone to, once again, remember this:

“I do not pretend to understand the moral universe. The arc is a long one. My eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by experience of sight. I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends toward justice.”

                                                               Theodore Parker

Today's MOZEN: Beyond A Reasonable Doubt

A few years back I had the honor and privilege to serve as a juror for a local, criminal case. And, I do mean those 2 words: honor and privilege - because that's what my service eventually came to mean to me.

In the beginning, like most of us who have received one, I recoiled in horror when I saw the notification in the day's mail. I would have to report to the Nyack Village Hall (where I live) for jury duty. Whether I would actually have to actually serve on a jury was not yet decided. But, I knew that I would at least have to go through the process!

I was working full-time, so the prospect of having to donate my time for virtually no monetary compensation was not particularly appealing. After all, who was going to pay my rent?

Perhaps, there would be something in how I looked or what I may say during the selection process that would eliminate me from the jury pool while at the same time satisfying my obligation.

So, I reported to the Village Justice Court at the designation time and after checking in with the Court Clerk took a seat with about 15 others on the impossibly hard wooden benches that lined the courtroom.

On by one, we were called by the clerk to answer questions for the competing lawyers, some general like residence and livelihood, others more pointed, like attitudes towards race and the police.

Like the others (I trust!), I answered the questions earnestly and honestly, while at the same time continually hoping that there would be something in one of my answers to disqualify me.

Only 8 people would be ultimately chosen: 6 sitting jurors and 2 alternates.

And, guess who was one of the lucky ones: yours truly.

Fortunately, the trial would begin that very afternoon, and with luck, would be completed in a single day. The case involved a black man who had be arrested for disorderly conduct. The defendant, as well as the arresting officer (a white man), were to be the main and, if I remember correctly), only witnesses.

First, the presiding judge addressed us on what we might expect and how we were to interpret and then execute the law. This, according to the judge, was the single most important legal tenet to follow. We were not to decide the case on ANYTHING but the evidence. We were NOT to be swayed by any other emotion, i.e. whom we may or may not have liked - whether we ultimately support the police, etc. We were to rule exclusively on the evidence presented. Furthermore, the burden of proof lay completely with the State, i.e. the prosecution. The defense need not prove anything. The defendant was innocent until proven guilty, BEYOND A REASONABLE DOUBT.

PROVEN, BEYOND A REASONABLE DOUBT.

This theme was reinforced repeatedly by the trial judge. So, we took it to heart.

The prosecutor was a relatively young woman. The defense was headed by an equally youthful barrister. Both, fitting their positions, were well dressed and made an excellent appearance.

The prosecution presented its case first, arguing that the defendant willfully caused a public disturbance on the streets of Nyack and was arrested to prevent further such conduct.

The defense countered that the defendant and arresting officer had a contentious, near violent encounter in the past which created bad feelings between the two. The defense claimed that the arresting officer used that past experience as a catalyst to escalate the encounter in question to a point of confrontation and that the subsequence arrest was based on that prejudice.

As each jurist argued their case, it became more obvious that the defense's case was simply stronger. When the arresting officer testified, it became apparent, at least to me, that he exacerbated the encounter because of his prejudicial opinion of the defendant. On the other hand, the defendant was not without blemish. He, also, escalated the situation by acting with blatant disrespect for the policeman.

However, again in my opinion, that disrespect, even if personally repugnant, was not enough reason for that man to be arrested. Even ugly speech is protected by the 1st Amendment. The policeman should have been trained to deflect that type of behavior and not react to it with such aggression.

After the two sides rested their cases, the judge, as he had done regularly during the trial, admonished the jury that the BURDEN OF PROOF lies with the State. The defendant MUST be found guilty, BEYOND REASONABLE DOUBT based solely on the evidence. If this is not the case, the defendant must be found NOT GUILTY of all charges.

The terminology used here is very clear and worthy of mention. The term applied is Not Guilty instead of Innocent. And, I believe that this has been done deliberately. The difference may be subtle but in this case most important. One may be seen as a legal matter, the other a moral one. In other words, the defendant may be legally free of the charges while at the same time carrying a moral guilt.

The eight of us then went to deliberate.

After a relatively brief discussion, it became apparent that we were in unanimous agreement: The defendant night not have been blameless but the State had not proved its case that his behavior was criminal. Therefore, he was found NOT GUILTY.

We notified the bailiff that we had reached our decision. He then brought us back into the courtroom where he notified all concerned parties. The judge rendered the decision - NOT GUILTY. He thanked us for our service to the spirit of justice and our community. He released the defendant and everyone went on their way with what seemed to me as no further malice.

The feeling that I had done something right, important, and just, came over me immediately. I had participated in something that the entire world strives for: an open, honest trial where justice prevailed due to the efforts of our fellow citizens, i.e. a jury of our peers, steered by a strong legal and moral code.

Now, most who know me understand that I am not a blind patriot. There are some things that this Country does very well and some, not so much. It was nice to be a part of an America that, when executed properly, is sublime, i.e. EQUAL JUSTICE UNDER THE LAW.

It was also reassuring that our justice system, despite its great power and reach, is still slanted toward protecting the individual - again, as long as it is applied equally. PROVING quilt, beyond a reasonable doubt, is one of the most important tools in protecting ALL of us against and omnipotent State.

However, this ethos is not without its pitfalls.

Often, in its efforts to protect the innocent, the system can also release those at least morally guilty.

The trial in Kenosha, Wisconsin of Kyle Rittenhouse, accused of murdered 2 people and seriously wounding another during a night of racial unrest in that city, is a classic example.

Some things are not in question: Mr. Rittenhouse, who is from Illinois, was driven across state lines to Kenosha, armed with an AR-15 long rifle by his mother so that he could act as a sort of justice- loving vigilante. During his time there, he shot 3 people and killed 2 (who where unarmed).

What IS being debated is whether or not Mr. Rittenhouse acted in self defense.

Now, MOST rational people would argue that the fact that he went to such great lengths to be there with a high powered rifle is evidence of his intention to cause harm and should be enough for a conviction. However, ACCORDING TO THE LAW, that is not enough. Remember, The State must PROVE its case BEYOND A REASONABLE DOUBT that he acted solely with malice when he shot those men.

What the defense has done, at least in my mind, is create doubt in the minds of the jurors. According to Wisconsin LAW, a citizen, ANY citizen, while there, has a right to use any means necessary to protect himself if he feels his life is in danger. As seen in the videotapes of the event, the shooting victims appear to be attacking Rittenhouse in some way. We can say, "of course they were attacking him. He was rampaging with a weapon and shooting people. They were trying to stop him". However, we cannot KNOW with CERTAINTY what was in the shooter's head. Despite his original intentions, he had been knocked down and was being approached by others with apparently bad intent. Even a skateboard, which one of the victims was seemingly trying to use as a sort of bludgeon against Mr. Rittenhouse, can cause physical harm. Perhaps, at that moment,  he was in fear for his life and acted accordingly, i.e. shooting. This may seem disproportionate but it is debatable. 

Therefore, DOUBT has been created - the type of doubt that, under the law, can result in acquittal.

Yes, it sucks.

But, it IS the law and must be respected.

Otherwise, we are no better than Kyle Rittenhouse and his misguided supporters who see him as some sort of Law and Order cult hero instead of the little, lost boy turned murderer that he truly is.

And, remember:

“I do not pretend to understand the moral universe. The arc is a long one. My eye reaches but little ways. I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by experience of sight. I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends toward justice.”

                                                               Theodore Parker

Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT: The Old Willow Tree

She stands a silent sentinel, worn and scarred but still proud. Just like the decaying, abandoned mansion that she guards, both are mere vestiges of what they must have once been, many years ago. I am their next door neighbor.

I have given this ancient Weeping Willow tree a female persona because she reminds me of a woman - an old woman. Her bark is worn and craggy, much like the skin of an old matron who spent most of her life laughing and smiling, perhaps too much. Her thick trunk (at least what's left of it after weathering a lifetime of storms) is topped by hair represented by drooping boughs of thinning limbs.

Like the once glorious home that sits behind her, she has been battered by the countless seasons she has witnessed. Missing a major branch or two, one can only imagine the history still contained in her silent embrace.

Sometimes I wonder how much longer can she last. I question how much longer EACH can last. Someone does just enough maintenance on the old mansion to keep it from collapsing. But, after every major storm we encounter, another piece of the willow seems to be on the ground instead of the tree. Most recently, another huge limb was sheared off by the intense winds of the latest Nor'easter.

So, after I shook the cobwebs from my head from being awakened the other day by the sound of chainsaws coming from the direction of the willow, the thought that it may finally be the end of my old friend coursed through my brain. It brought on a feeling of real sadness - after all, she my have been a bit broken but she was not BEATEN.

The heavy sawing continued for some time before it stopped suddenly. For all that time, I could not bring myself to go to the window to witness the demise of my friend. It was something I simply did not need to witness. I figured that when I walked into town I would survey what was left of her and pay my respects.

So, you can imagine my surprise when I cleared the trees obstructing my view of the area to see that the Willow was still standing! All the workmen had done was clean up the large broken limps that had fallen after the last storm. The old gal had made it - again. I couldn't help but smile, because:

Where there is life, there is hope.

Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT STORY: The Epiphany

While on one of my daily sojourners through town, I was approaching the local "Y" when I noticed a young couple heading towards me. They caught my eye immediately because they were, well, so different.

Walking arm in arm, I would estimate they were probably late teens, maybe 20. Even as I got closer, it was still hard to tell exactly. Everything about them defied the norm. Their over-all appearance made it even difficult to identify their gender. I the past, we may have called them asexual or, more accurately, androgynous. Today, I believe non-binary is preferred. Personally, I like the latest term. It implies more of a choice.

One was covered by a long, black coat. He/she had medium length, dark hair with blue high lights. His/her eyes were covered in dark makeup. If not for a rather youthful countenance, you might describe his/her appearance as goth.

The other had light hair, mostly blonde but with multi-color tips. In great contrast to the darkness of the other, she/he was wearing a brightly colored top, pleated skirt, and multi-colored long stockings.

They seemed in great spirits and were obviously enjoying each others company.  As I passed, I sensed that the dark one was aware of my interest and gave a slight, wry smile.

If they only knew the plethora of thoughts and emotion that were coursing through my brain!

At first, I felt a wave of standard judgment:

Why would someone want to look like that?

Were they lovers or just good friends?

What are their parents like? Are their parents embarrassed by them? 

Are they aware that people stare?

Do they care?

Should they care?

Then I had an epiphany.

I've always been good with live and let live. Ultimately - and the key word is ultimately - I get there. What you do in your time and space is your business and what I think has no bearing.

However, this was something more; I didn't just accept them. I liked that they were different. They were creative and having fun. They were defiant and enjoyed being that way. They were very much what they wanted to be.

I found it refreshing.

Really.

So, as I passed, I smiled, too - a good, genuine, feel good smile.

There's plenty of room for everyone.

Today's MOZEN: Say NO to Bullies!

There are some that mistake a bully for a tough guy (or woman).

But, bullies are not. In fact, the truth of the matter is quite the opposite.

Have you ever heard the slogan; when the going gets tough, the tough get going?

Yeah, well, bullies get going - right out the back door!

Sure, they can be intimidating. Intimidation is one of the most important weapons in their arsenal. However, when confronted by a situation that requires real courage, true sacrifice, and genuine tenacity, they fail.

Miserably.

Terribly.

Always.

That's why it's important to stand up to them. They are creatures that feed on fear. The more they perceive, the greater the sense of false courage they feel. It gives them license to be abusive. Therefore, you must always confront a bully; quickly and decisively.

I know that this is not always easy. Bullies often posses a physical make-up that gives them an appearance of strength. No one wants a potential beatdown! And, whereas as truly tough individual would use that as a positive attribute, i.e. protect the innocent, the bully uses ANY perceived superiority, particularly a physical one, to their best advantage.

They bluster.

They rage.

They threaten.

It's all about them and getting what they want, when they want it.

Unfortunately, these tactics can be effective. It's the reason WHY they use them - over and over again.

Therefore, it's SO important to confront a bully!

I'm no psychologist, but I do believe I have a good understanding of human nature. And, I believe that bullying behavior is a defense mechanism employed to hide deeply rooted insecurities. It almost seems to be inversely proportional: the deeper the sense of their own lack of value, the more the need to devalue others.

Look. I am not a physically imposing person. So, in that sense, I'm not that tough. As a kid, I was on the short end of virtually every confrontation I ever had. And, I had lots of them - because, at some point, I just wasn't taking ANY shit from anyone, particularly a bully.

Sure, I took some lumps - lots of them! And, like everyone I guess, I'd rather avoid getting the shit kicked out of me on a regular basis by some over-muscled troglodyte. However, from my experience I came to realize that if one doesn't step up to a bully at some point, the behavior will continue and you will be eternally shat upon. So, to my way of thinking, you might as well confront them sooner rather than later. Because, believe me, by their very nature, if a bully knows that you will ALWAYS fight back - no matter the consequence - they will stop. A bully's entire Raison d'etre is to take the path of least resistance. They are not interested in hard fought victories - only ones cheaply gained.

Well, not on my dime.

This post is not about one person. It's about a behavior - not politics. However, I can't help but think about the word bully without a image of former President Donald J. Trump firmly planted in my mind's eye. Forgive me for the hackneyed joke but, if you look up bully in the dictionary you will see a photo of him next to the definition.

Mr. Trump possess all the necessary traits of a classic bully: he's a large man, about 6'2" (6'5" with his hair) and over 270 lbs. He's loud and uses that volume to drown out the voices of others - literally. He has fame which he leverages to ultimately to his own advantage. If he perceives a weakness in ANYONE, rather than offer help he attacks without mercy. He doesn't want to just defeat you. He wants to destroy you.

Some, i.e. his followers, for some strange reason, interpret this behavior as strong or tough. It is neither. This is simply the Cult of Personality: he sells them an image and they are insecure enough in themselves to buy it.

He continues to sell his BIG LIE, i.e. the 2020 election was stolen from him, simply because in typical bully fashion, he cannot acknowledge THE FACT that he lost.

Typical.

That's not tough.

It's pathetic.

Give Me Another Beer!!!

Life is like drinking an icy cold beer on a blistering hot day after laying 20 miles of stinking, steaming asphalt -

You suck it down with reckless abandon, the excess pouring out of the sides of your mouth and dripping down your open shirt. You gulp it down so fast that it even hurts a bit.

But, you don't give a shit. You want it - now.

It's your Highway To The Danger Zone!!!

I ain't no stinkin' co-pilot.

I'm flyin' this plane.

Bad To The Bone.

Master of My Own Destiny.

It's win or go home.

And, I'm good with that.

Now, give me another beer!!!!

Today's MOZEN: The Written Word

It's been a while, my friends.

I've been derelict in my duties.

I have not posted any original writing in a couple of weeks now (some might say that I haven't posted anything original in a couple of years - if ever).

There have been a number of excuses.

Some of them legitimate - like, preparing for school and trying to help with the care of a 97 year-old mother.

Others, not so much - like, I don't give a shit (or worse, nobody gives a shit).

And, I need another bourbon.

Not that many quite noticed (more later). 

But, sooner or later, I will always come back to the written word - no matter what form it may take. Writing is both my addiction AND my salvation. Because such is life. And, the writer, the good writer, is the conduit to it.

Parker said it best: "I hate to write. I love having written."

Words are like old friends; they come and go but, in the end, they are always available when you need them. You may have to search a bit for them, but they're there.

So, here they are - here WE are. 

Together.

Even if just for a few moments.

We are connected - united.

In a way that is uniquely human.

With words.

Virtually ALL animals communicate in one form or another. Some may use a simple series of clicks or grunts. Others my be as sophisticated as dolphins and whales who use sonar and echo location as a means of communication. Or, mysterious, like insects who use smell!

However, ONLY humans communicate by a method that is both visual as well as audible - i.e., it is written/read AND spoken.

Yet, my numbers, i.e. the amount of people who actually read my shit is pitiful, at least my today's so-called Influencer standards. I'm not sure how to change that. Perhaps, I should give more tips on makeup or shoes. The Kardashian/Jenners get millions, I get 25 - not millions - VIEWS.

But, you know, it doesn't matter.

It ain't ZERO - and never has been been.

And, I feel better to just having done it. . . 

 

Today's MOZEN: The Horns of the Bull

The path to Enlightment  should not been seen as a straight, ascending line. Yes, it has peaks of euphoria. But, it also includes dips of painful revelation. I avoided using the word failure because these lapses should not be seen as such unless you do nothing to deal with the issues that created them in the first place. You must be mindful, i.e. have the awareness that these areas need attention. Then, you must actively work to improve upon them.

Often, at least for me, it's hard work to change these issues because they are against your very nature - that which seems to come to you naturally - without thinking.

My birth sign is Taurus. My lineage/culture is Sicilian. Although both are associated with many admirable qualities like loyalty, integrity, style and class, learning, persistence, and more, they contain others that are less desirable. These include willful pride, stubbornness, a fierce temper, frugality, and judgement.

Because I am mindful that ALL exists within me, I have laid the foundation to perpetuate more of the good stuff and less of the bad.

Two of the negative influences within my personality that I am working so hard to change are my temper and my judgement.

Being a Taurus and a Sicilian is like having the double-whammy for fierce temperaments. I take no shit from anyone - ever - especially if you attempt to bully me. Simply ain't going to work. And, if you try, you are going to get the horns - Big Time! My temper is fierce.

Now, this in and of itself is not necessarily always a bad thing. We need to stick up for ourselves, especially against those who wish to oppress us. We also need to defend others who may not be cable of defending themselves. However, I have to learn when to let go of my anger. Everyone, even those who love us, are bound to commit some personal transgression at one time or another. As I can be so quick to anger (too often), I need to let go of it just as rapidly.

And, I need to be less judgmental. I have always set the highest standards for myself. I expect to give my maximum effort into any endeavor. And, I expect the same from others. However, I need to not only understand but ACCEPT that others set goals for themselves and need only to meet THEIR standards and NOT mine! Different IS better.

This means increasingly my level of compassion for others. Compassion does not judge. It does not ask why is this so? It simply acts to do the right things for the right reasons.

I need to remember these these things.

I'm working on it.

Today's MOZEN: The Arc of Moral Justice - On the 20th Anniversary of 911

In a strange twist of fate, I was watching a program called "The Hunt for Osama bin Laden" on the eve of the 20th Anniversary of the attacks on 911. It told the inside story of the years of effort and the final push to locate and kill the mastermind of 911. Needless to say, it was riveting.

The combat group charged with executing the mission was the Navy's legendary Seal Team 6. These elite warriors trained for months for this very moment - they were inside his compound and the search was on. As they approached the 3rd floor, where bin Laden was reported to be hiding, they heard him say into a cell phone:

They've come from above!

He was shot to death by the Seals moments later.

Think about it. They've come from above.

Just as he unleased countless death from above, so death came for him - alone, in the dark, and at the hand of strangers.

The arc of arc of the moral universe is indeed long.*

*Theodore Parker

Today's MOZEN: WOMAN - USE YOUR POWER!!

 

A few years ago, after the election of Donald Trump, I got into a (mostly) friendly argument with a feminist friend. It seems that she took exception to the point that I was trying to make which was this; women bore more responsibility for his election than many would care to admit. Even though less educated white men were Mr. Trump's most ardent supporters, millions of women voted for him as well. Millions.

I tried to further my point by presenting the fact that my disappointment lay with the fact that WOMEN HAVE THE ULTIMATE POWER - they outnumber men in the general population AND they vote in greater numbers. The problem is, unlike the uneducated white men who elect misogynists like Donald Trump, they don't stick together and too often vote against their own best interests!

And, it happens all of the time.

Texas is the latest example.

As we are all aware, Texas, the 2nd largest State in the Country, just passed the most draconian anti-abortion law in the land. In essence, it removes a woman's right to choose. Unfortunately, the damage was further exacerbated by the US Supreme Court's (a Trumpian court) support of it.

Now, despite the fact the millions of women (men too, like me) are outraged by the decision, millions more support it. And, it goes further - millions of women voted for the people (mostly men) who sponsored and passed this awful legislation.

I'm sure I'll catch hell for this but I'm going to challenge you women once again: GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER and VOTE THESE SOB'S OUT.

Or, you will get what you pay (vote) for.

YOU HAVE THE POWER TO CREATE CHANGE.

TAKE IT TO THE STREETS!!

DO IT - NOW!!!!!!

That is all . . . 

Today's MOZEN: Constant Companions

 

Words and Photo: F LoBuono

When I'm by myself I am never truly alone. My thoughts are my constant companions. And, as long as I rule them and they not me, all is well.

Today's MOZEN: GET VACCINATED!

 

For the brave souls who actually follow this blog with any regularity, you are aware that I don't shy away from controversy and good, spirited debate. Yes, my intention is, in fact, to stimulate hearty, healthy discourse - even if it gets heated. In my mind, this is how positive change may be implemented.

Still, many say that you can never change anyone's mind on Social Media but I'm not so sure that I totally agree with that. However, what I do know is that if you can't defend your POV with facts, reason, and logic, then you are just bloviating.

A prime example of such folly is the Vaccination Debate.

I italicized Debate to hi light the FACT that it's a misnomer.

THERE IS NO DEBATE!!

The science is clear - the vaccine works.

In fact, it works remarkably well.

Have some people still been infected? Yes. Have some people experienced serious side-effects? Yes. However, these cases have been in the EXTREME minority. The overwhelming amount of people have NOT experienced ANY of these issues and are helping to control, if not completely eradicate the virus, making the Risk/Reward equation very much within the Reward parameters. 100% efficacy is not realistic.

Those anti-vaxers will argue to the point that it's a matter of choice. Well, it is. No one will tie you down and MAKE you take the vaccine. It is YOUR choice. However, you should make that choice in the light of the clear science but you do so by not only putting yourself at serious risk, but jeopardizing the well-being of others.

If this is OK by you, so be it. I will not longer argue or debate with you. I will not waste any more breath. You're bloviating.

I wish you good luck and leave you with one last request -

STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME.

Today's MOZEN: When Will We Ever Learn

Within the debacle that Afghanistan has become there are many lessons to be learned. If we do not head them, we will continue to make the same mistakes over and over again. Those of us who lived through the Viet Nam era (which, by the way HAD produced similarly disastrous results) are particularly disturbed by this scenario.

Perhaps the lesson most important to grasp is that the American Way is not the Only Way. So-called Nation Building without a firm grasp on the culture and traditions of other peoples is doomed to failure, especially since so much of it is dripping with a false sense of patriotism. Make no mistake about it, like Viet Nam, so much of the conflict, pain and suffering - on both sides - are based on LIES - bald faced lies. And, it happens ALL of the time!

Why?

Well, in my mind, it's simple: FTM, i.e. Follow The Money. If you look at the profit margins of those who form The Military-Industrial Complex, i.e. those who build the war machines, you will find your answer: $$$$$. So, please stop believing that we send our sons and daughters thousands of miles to fight, bleed, and die for some  nebulous, altruistic ideal. If war was a business (which it actually IS), that would be called the sales pitch. And, the product produces handsome results for its investors.

Another salient point to be made is this: A dedicated, fanatical opponent can accomplish the seemingly impossible. This was verified in Viet Nam and again in Afghanistan. In Viet Nam, a seriously outnumbered and outgunned North Vietnamese resistance fought both the French and us with such consistent ferocity that our will to resist them was eventually broken. They were willing to risk EVERYTHING for their cause. We simply were not.

The same is true for Afghanistan. People questioned, "how could a relative few, mostly poorly equipped, rag-tag bunch of poorly educated fighters, i.e. The Taliban, overthrow an entire country, backed by the military might of the US and other nations in a matter of weeks if not days?"

Well, as with the Viet Cong and North Vietnamese army, the Taliban were willing to do anything (yes, even commit atrocities) in the name of their cause. They were willing to die AND kill for their vision of what they wanted their country to be! Obviously, the other Afghans did not believe strongly enough in what our vision was for them.

The government WE installed was woefully and willfully corrupt and the people were not willing to fight to save it. Once again, if you follow the $ you will find it to be the real root of the problem. It should be obvious to most, seemingly except for those who actually pay the bill, i.e. the soldiers: the Afghan government was motivated by greed - the Taliban by ideology. And, the result is clear.

What frustrates me most is that we keep making the same mistakes over and over again. Unfortunately, in my lifetime alone we have experienced the same disastrous scenario on multiple occasions including not only in Viet Nam but Somalia, Iraq, and other countries in every corner of the globe. When I think of it, my mind drifts to these lines from Pete Seeger's seminal antiwar song, Where Have All The Flowers Gone:

Where have all the soldiers gone, long time passing?

Where have all the soldiers gone, long time ago?

Where have all the soldiers gone?

Gone to graveyards everyone

Oh, when will they ever learn?

Oh, when will they ever learn?

Oh, when WE ever learn???

Original Poetry: It's Good To Be Alive

It's Good To Be Alive

The delicate curve of a young woman's breast

Exposed

Except for her long, bright yellow summer dress

Dancing

Barefoot

Golden hair flowing in the warm summer breeze

Blowing

off the water.

It's good to be alive.

Today's MOZEN: Take A Nap

Since my recent retirement, many have asked me (often with envy):

"how does it feel?"

I tell them this:*

"you know when you are at work, around 2 or 3pm, and you're really tired and bored and you wish you could take a nap?

Well, you take a nap."

That is all . . .

* as originally told to me by Mr. Don Nace.

Today's MOZEN: The Responsibility of Freedom

It's only been a week since I retired from the TV News profession, closing arguably the largest and greatest portion of my life. At over 40 years in the making, at this point, it will certainly be the longest.

Even though it has only been a week, I am already experiencing a kind of personal Renaissance - a rebirth of a type of physical freedom that I have not experienced since I was a much younger man - with a key difference. When I was that young man, I certainly had the time but not the $ to fully explore all of my passions. I must admit though, even with the challenges, it was a helleva' ride! But, now, hopefully, I'll have just enough of both. The prospect is certainly appealing - so far.

One of the more positive aspects of all of that new-found freedom is the time to think. And, if I am so inclined, to write about it.

With that in mind (nod, nod, wink, wink), I've been thinking about what it really means and, in particular, if there is such a thing as too much freedom.

First, let's talk about the personal kind.

I'm a child of the 60's and 70's so I had a goodly amount of exposure to the bohemian/counter culture lifestyle that largely defined that era. However, even though I related to much of that way of life, I don't think I was every fully immersed in it. I was sort of hippie light; I wore my hair long, bell bottom jeans, and flower print shirts but I also played football and actually enjoyed most of school. So, I kind of had a foot in both worlds - a balance, if you will.

This, I believe, is where my concept of personal freedom and whether there can too much of it comes in.

In so many ways, I was a wild man in thought and deed. I constantly pushed the envelope, both physically and spiritually. In a sense, certainly physically, I was at the height of my powers. I was a weightlifting - football playin', shaman! So, there were few things I wouldn't do on a dare - especially if I felt it would bring any type of growth/learning experience.

However, the key word here is FEW.

Yes, I read Huxley, and Kerouac. Listened to Dylan and The Doors. I so desperately wanted to break on through to the other side. But, I did have my limits. There were certain lines I was just not willing to cross. Perhaps it was the strong ethic instilled in me by my parents to know right from wrong, as I had the good sense and moral compass to see them, and, therefore, never do anything that would compromise respect for myself and my family. It has always given me a healthy dose of responsibility to go with my elixir of intoxicating freedom. 

In societal terms, that is know as having morals and scruples (more on that shortly).

But, that, at least for me, begs the question: whos' morals and whos' scruples judge what is personally right and wrong? Who, indeed, are the progenitors of these beliefs? And, furthermore, when it comes to personal decisions, why should I listen to anyone else anyway?

Who judges the judges?

Well, I can't answer for others but personally I like to think that I am as free as I want to be. I live an open, honest life that allows me to be comfortable in my own skin. Certainly, I have made mistakes in my life - huge ones! But, they've all (most?) been made in good faith and I have always made an effort to do no harm in the end. Still, I will continue to attempt to push the envelope to open new avenues of thought and deed - to be free from the bonds created by jealousy, close-mindedness, and fear, particularly of things that I don't understand - yet.

Now, there are times when personal freedom comes in direct conflict with those associated with the societies in which we live.

As Americans, we are especially proud of the personal freedoms of which our very Constitution guarantees. However, we continually confuse these principals with others that are imposed on us by those who believe they have a moral authority to judge what is acceptable and what is not. This conflict has raged since the inception of this Country and continues to this very day. The fact that we are still fighting the battle for Civil Rights, particularly as it pertains to those in the LGBTQ community is evidence.

Well, who are these moral authorities and what/who has given them the power to judge how ANY individual should live their lives as they see fit? They ineffectively argue that individuals from those communities adversely affect the very moral fabric of our society.

Now, this is not to say there is NO line to be drawn in the sand when it comes to some type of societal moral code. A society without some sense of morality brings anarchy and chaos. This is obvious - rape, molestation, murder, etc. will NEVER be morally acceptable.

And, as with our personal freedoms we must take ultimate responsibility for our actions. What we want/need for ourselves cannot take precedence over the greater good. The current anti-vaccine movement is a prime example of what can be certainly seen as selfish behavior. Your personal freedom does not trump the safety of millions of others.

I believe the key is here is to differentiate between the freedom to express one's self in a highly personal manner (i.e. the LGBTQ community) that need not affect ANYONE else and those that do (i.e. anti-vaxers). Remember, we have a responsibility to ourselves AND others.

Balance is the key.

It's really not that hard.

The choice is ours . . .