Today's MOZEN: He Is NO Hero

 

It was right out of a Hollywood action/thriller Blockbuster. A top executive is coolly, efficiently, and brutally gunned down early in the morning in one of Manhattan’s busiest neighborhoods and at one of its most frenetic times of the year – The Holiday Season. The killing is perpetrated by a hooded, masked assassin who then calmly disappears into the New York morning, audaciously using a rented Citibike in his getaway.

However, it was not a movie. The brazen and brutal murder of United Health Care CEO, Brian Thompson, as captured by security cameras, is both shocking and disturbing. It really shows a cold-blooded assassination of an innocent man. Yes, I said innocent. And there within begins the New-Age paradigm of guilt not by fact, but by insinuation, association, and inuendo.

In today’s era of mass media participation, i.e. the internet, the reaction to the killing was both swift and, in many ways, telling of how we function as a society. This man’s wanton murder was soon used to make an indictment of his character BECAUSE of his profession – the head of a major Health Care provider. Some even elevated the assassin to hero status.

Now, at this point, let me make something perfectly clear; I am NOT a fan of the Insurance Industry in general and in the Health Care part of it in particular. No matter what their ads says about how much they care about people, their PRIME motivation is PROFIT. The exorbitant salaries of the leaders of these companies (like Mr. Thompson) are a testament to their companies’ wealth. As a photographer covering some of the large insurance companies’ annual meetings, I can assure you that they are ALL about the profit margin.

And the idea that a company we pay monthly and who makes enormous profits would/could/does deny life saving health to its customers is abhorrent. Something certainly needs to be done about this.

However, MURDER is NOT one of them!

Many, and I mean millions of people, have at least condoned this murder if not actually celebrated it. And I understand their frustration and anger. Virtually all of us, and some more so than others, have been stung by our Health Care Provider making it difficult, if not impossible, to pay for the care we legitimately need. Certainly, some have lost loved ones by being denied critical care or lifesaving drugs simply because of money. I know some of these people personally. It’s heartbreaking, incorrigible, and indefensible. The very idea that innocent people die based on decisions made by executives solely to increase their already ample salaries  makes me viscerally sick.

 

However, we cannot fall into the trap of yielding to our anger so easily, even when we believe it to be righteous. It is simply immoral to wish wanton violence on another human being, especially one that you know nothing more of than he makes a lot of money in a less than popular business. Again, it’s easy to focus one’s rage on a single individual rather than try to topple an entire industry. But that only further debases us, putting us on the same level as the people we’ve come to loathe.

Most of use are familiar with the Biblical saying, “An eye for an eye,” etc. And it certainly appeals to our sense of righteous rage. But there is a newer, more apt rendering of the ancient quote. It is often most attributed to Mahatma Ghandi:

“An eye for an eye just leaves the whole world blind.”

It’s the Holiday Season – you know, the one about “being of good cheer, Peace on Earth, Good Will to All, etc.”  But instead of being so caught up with the blatant commercialism of it all, take a moment to remember the REAL reason for the season. Again, those who are familiar with my writing will know this is not an endorsement of one religious practice over another (yes, it’s OK to say Happy “Holidays” because there are so many to celebrate). For me, it’s another chance to be better, to do things more compassionately and to allow more light into my life. Celebrating the taking of the life of another human being to soothe your sense of divine justice is simply wrong. We can do better.

Thanksgiving 2024

It rained last night. A lot. And man, did we need it. It had been a record-setting Autumn; beautiful but painfully dry. In fact, I think describing the season as desiccated would not be hyperbole.

When I saw the weather forecast called for virtually a 100% chance of rain for some time around 2 am that night (morning), I knew that I just had to be awake to witness it. After so long without rain, I wanted to see it, hear it, smell it, and, yes, FEEL it.

So, as a befitting a man of my age and retirement status, I took a nap that evening to prepare myself for the task at hand. The nap was probably unnecessary as my bizarre sleeping habits normally have me up at ungodly hours on a regular basis anyway. Be that as it may, I forged my way through all the late-night talk shows (at least the monologues) and the plethora of exploitive programs that I dis-affectionately refer to as Train Wreck TV.

At approximately 2 a.m. I lowered the TV to see if the forecasters were right for a change and listened closely. And, sure enough, the magic began. I heard it first, on the roof. It was slow and steady but as I continued to listen, now in silence with the TV off, the intensity increased until it became a steady drumbeat, more and more forceful. It was like the increasing intensity of a celestial symphony.

Then, I needed to see the rain. So, I went to the front door and swung it wide open. I was greeted by a blast of WET, cool, fresh air! I could see it now; small rivers running down my street. And I could smell it too, that fresh odor like the rain was washing everything clean again. Then I stepped out of the doorway into the night. I threw my arms wide in the air and let the rain pelt my face. How wonderful! Now I could FEEL it.

After letting the rain wash over me for a few blissful minutes, it was time to step back out of the rain and into the reality that soon I would be in our little home, snuggling in my cushy bed, safe, warm, and secure.

As I sunk deep into the comfort of my bed and pillows, I reflected on how much I must be thankful for. Despite the many trials each of us face (some more so than others) it’s important to take the time to evaluate the good things that are around us, even the smallest things that we often take for granted – like the return of the rain.

As a Sicilian-American, we had huge Thanksgiving feasts combining the best of American and Sicilian culinary traditions at my grandmother’s in Brooklyn. I was surrounded not only by my immediate family but by aunts, uncles, and cousins, too.  And the food! It was magical.

But those days are gone. Long gone. Many at the table have moved on to live only in my memory. But that is beyond my control. What is not is to choose to be thankful for what I DO have. So, we will have a small gathering at our place and feast with my partner Amanda, her sister and her partner, and my sister. I am forever thankful for their love and their presence in my life.

Simple. And simple is good.

My wish is that all of you find the simple things that make your life worth living. It may be in a friend, a kind word given or received, a good meal, the presence of a loved one or their memory. It might be something as simple as listening to the life-giving rain. You will find it if you try.

Modern Day Caesar

 First Published in The Rockland County Business Journal, November 2024

MODERN DAY CEASAR

I am not a historian but have been intensely interested in history, particularly that of ancient Rome, my entire life. I suppose part of that comes from the fact that I’m an Italian American, but it may also be partly due to watching too many bad gladiator movies as a kid on a Saturday afternoon. Be that as it may, it’s a fascination that continues to this day.

In my many years of reading and researching Rome and the Romans, I have always been struck by the similarities between that ancient society and our own. Their organization of government with a ruler, checked by a senate elected by the people, served as a basis of our own. Many of our laws are based on Roman law. The terminology so often applied in legal situations is the language of the ancient Romans: Latin. Even our National Slogan, E Pluribus Unum; from many, one In the Latin tongue, is taken from the Roman concept of a single, national identity.

Of course, I’m speaking of a time in Rome when it WAS truly a republic, i.e. in the time before the reign of Julius Caesar, THE most celebrated of all the Romans. The very name Caesar has been associated with the idea of RULER for over 2000 years.  In fact, there were modern-day derivatives like Kaiser, Czar (Tsar) taken from his name.

But the more you look at the MAN who was Caesar, the more there is to abhor, not idolize.

Caesar, using LOTS of money and skillful political maneuvering, managed to convince the most powerful force in Rome, i.e. The People, that giving him unlimited power would be to THEIR benefit and the everlasting glory of Rome. Instead, they lost their Republic.

And to cement the deal, under the guise of ROME FIRST, he killed MILLIONS both domestically and away from Italy to consolidate his power. If you were on HIS side, you shared in the wealth. If you were not, you were killed or enslaved. And that included individuals and entire societies. Either way, resistance was crushed and Ceasar got his everlasting “fame”.

All in the name of The Glory of Rome.

And she was glorious for a time until corruption, greed and graft, fueled by a relentless lust for power, brought her crashing down.

As there has been from the beginning, the parallels between the Roman Empire and the United States of America are once again in sharp focus.

We just had an election where a man who clearly sees himself as modern day Ceasar (I’m sure that he would LOVE the comparison), has managed to convince most Americans that if they follow him he will MAKE AMERICA GREAT AGAIN.

Donald J. Trump, echoing the mantra of Caesars past, has promised to close and secure our borders stopping the inflex of those who may be “poisoning our blood”,  a return to isolationism, and a new prosperity. In addition to winning a mandate from the public, he is assembling a Cabinet and group of advisers who will do nothing more than bend to his will to achieve this goals. Of course, it’s all being done, according to Mr. Trump and his sycophants, under the mantra of “America First”.

As Ceasar had done over 2000 years ago to the Romans, Mr. Trump has managed to convince millions of Americans that only through his elevation as supreme leader can we achieve lasting greatness. In other words, the two things are inseparable.

But, even if those promises were true, what price would you be willing to pay to achieve them? As with Caesar, Mr. Trump has promised retribution for those who may offer resistance. And it worked for Caesar. Will we suffer the same fate? Are we willing to relinquish our personal freedoms that we have so ardently fought for since the beginning of our very existence and as Country? All in the name of ONE man’s glory?

I cannot, will not, speak for others. But, as for me, I intend to do everything within my power to see that the loss of my freedoms, and that of others, will not be so easily given – or taken. All is not lost, unless WE allow it. And, that my friends, IS the American way.

We shall serve no Caesar.

 

 

Today's MOZEN: TACT

 

Originally Published in The Rockland County Business Journal, 10/13/2024

Winston Churchill once said, “tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip”.

Like most quotes that last, it says a lot in a single sentence.

There’s a beautiful simplicity in his use of language. In a way, it’s both vulgar and sublime. And, within that, lies its genius. It’s also clever, conveying a sense of humor that, despite a sharp edge, makes the statement palatable.

And, perhaps most importantly, it means that it is possible to intensely disagree with someone and still engage in civil discourse. It’s a skill that seems to be sorely lacking today.

There may be many reasons for this, not the least of which has been the incredible rise in our use of Social Media. Lately, there have been many studies demonstrating both the wonders and pitfalls of our love affair with the Internet. They seem to me to be both sides of the same coin.

On one hand, we have access to a world of information that is virtually limitless and unimaginable just a generation ago. There is almost nothing we can’t learn if we so desire. And our access to it is almost immediate. So fast in fact, that I believe all of us are guilty of impatience when we must wait for more than a few seconds for our computers to give us EXACTLY what we want.

On the other hand, there is also a sense of anonymity when we react with each other through the internet. It provides an electronic wall of protection that often allows us to say and do things we might not consider if done in a more personal and direct way. We can flash to anger when we see, read, or hear something that we adamantly disagree with and with a single key stroke, vent to one’s heart’s desire, i.e. instant gratification.

Sure, you might feel better in the moment, but did we really accomplish anything? Have we come to a greater understanding, even if we disagree? Unfortunately, I think not.

Lastly, Churchill’s statement suggests that we need not compromise our principles when debating with others, especially during a time of such fractured politics. However, it also allows for others to have the same rights to not relinquish theirs. And, in this crucial election year, it’s never been more important that we find ways to close what seems to be an ever-widening gap. One way, perhaps the only way, is to continue to engage in spirited, passionate, respectful dialogue.

Try a little tact too. It may go a long way.

 

Today's MOZEN: LIFE and DEATH LESSONS

With months to reflect on the death of my mother, Stella, my mind still swirls with a dazzling array of thoughts, feelings, and emotion.

Even as I write this, I pause frequently to dig deeper into both my conscious and subconscious mind. Still, they come so quickly and with such intensity, it becomes difficult to separate one impulse from another. This is why I have always appreciated the so-called stream of consciousness writers like Kerouac; if they felt it, they wrote it. Immediately.

Well, I'm no Kerouac and won't even try to be. But I'll do my best to share some of my more profound thoughts with you. Perhaps you will find some relevance.

First, don't cry for Stella. She lived and incredibly long life, passing just a few months short of her 100th birthday. And, for the great majority of that time, she experienced over-all good health and a full life, working while still raising a family. And she LOVED her family.

As my father, Joseph, died many years ago, I suppose that makes me an orphan at nearly 70.

And, although I made that statement with tongue somewhat in cheek, it is also having a profound effect on me now.

Even though I live a comfortable, almost privileged live, with a good roof over my head, a very adequate retirement fund that I worked a lifetime to achieve, a solid relationship with what's left of most of my family, a strong social calendar, and a wonderful woman to share the rest of my life with, there are times that I actually feel lonely.

Let me explain.

As I have also aged, with that aging comes the responsibility of taking YOUR turn to lead. I know that I have many people counting on me in many different ways. And I intend to deliver. It's my nature.

But, it also begs the question: where do I take my troubles when there is no one left to turn to?

You know, the type of things that ONLY your parents (if you had parents like mine) will understand, not judge, and give you the type of loving support only they can give. And, this is in no deference to your lover. It is important to share with them, too. However, there are truly some things that can only be understood by those who created you.

I don't have that anymore - and there are times that I could sure use it ( and please don't tell me to find god in religion)

I found myself in long, lonely conversations with them that are, generally speaking, one-way in nature! I suppose that means that they have planted the answers within me. I don't need to hear them again, only to accept them.

Still, I find myself in situations where I see something that Stella would like (like fresh plums from the farmer's market), thinking, "oh, I should get some for her", only to realize that she's not here.

The world keeps turning. Our immortality truly lies not in the erection of some marble statue in our honor, but in the little, daily memories that keeps someone alive in our hearts and minds.

There is one other recurring theme that keeps popping up into my head as well.

And, it ain't pretty - but it is REAL and doesn't HAVE to be a bad thing in the end.

When we're young, we are filled with images of death that are crafted to at least soothe the feeling of terror virtually every human being experiences at the thought of their own demise. It certainly still scares the shit out of me!

Most of these images are of our aging loved ones, at the end of their lives, grey, thin, and wasting, but still glowing, propped up in bed with comfy pillows and plush comforters, surrounded by appropriately somber loved ones. We held hands as our loved ones slowly and blissfully slipped into the other side.

What a crock of shit!!

Both of my parents met miserable ends.

My father died racked with the ravages of Alzheimer's, reduced to 114 lbs., virtually incapable of human communication.

He died in the middle of the night, alone, in a nursing home. We had no warning. I was informed by phone the next day.

My mother didn't fare much better. She spent the last year of her life bedridden, incontinent, insane, suffering from Lewy Body Dementia. If not for the herculean efforts of my older sister, she would have died in a nursing home, too. Instead, the small consolation was that she died alone in her sleep, but at least at home.

So, why share such terrible stories?

Well, it's not so much that I dwell on these things or use them to curry sympathy. That's not my style.

Rather, I'd like to share the positive that can be taken from such miserable situations. And that is to live life to the fullest EVERY DAY.

I know that we hear this so much that it is in danger of becoming trite. It can be - if you let it. Don't. Instead use it to look for the little(st) things that bring us pleasure, especially when WE ARE TOGETHER.

Moments don't have to be momentous to bring pleasure and memories that will last a lifetime - because we need them to.

DON'T WAIT. PARTICIPATE - IN LIFE!

Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT STORY: When Magic Happens

It happened in a place and time when magic was still possible.

I believe that it was the ONLY place it could have happened.

Now, it only exists only in my memories.

It was the mid1980's and I had moved to the place that I would call my future and forever home - Nyack, NY.  I had come here because of my first job in television at a small, local cable television station where I produced and hosted what became a fairly popular magazine style program called "Eye On Rockland". It's hard for me to believe it, but occasionally someone will still recognizing me on the street for it today. My partner Amanda gets a real kick out of it!

Anyway, having lived in Nyack, I like, most of the other local urchins, frequented a select number of local bars including Eastwick's, The Old Fashioned, and, my personal favorite, O'Donoghue's. All of them had their distinct flavors (in every sense of the word) and I made regular rounds at all three. But, O'Donoghue's, a former speakeasy and the oldest family run bar in the County, was the place I went to for good food, cold beer, and GREAT conversation (I have another post devoted strictly to its wonderful and long history).

And so it was one summer evening. I was sitting in my favorite stool near the end of the bar so I could get a good view of what was happening in the place. I pretty much minded my own business but I'm an affable guy and if a good conversation lent itself, I was game. 

A tall, handsome in his own right, blonde man approached me as if he recognized me. As I was on TV (even small-time, it's still TV!) this was not entirely unusual. Strangely, I thought I recognized him from TV too! He seemed friendly enough so I engaged him.

It turned out that his WAS on a TV - a recurring role on a daily soap opera. He had also done some other acting in films and commercials. He told me his name but unfortunately it's now lost through time.

At one point, without any prompting, he said something that I have taken with me to this very day. It went something like this:

"I've seen your work. You have talent. You can make it. BUT, they won't make it easy for someone like you. Just don't quit."

I was flabbergasted. I did not know this man and he certainly did not know me. But he spoke with such honesty and sincerity. He had no reason to say such things. He wanted nothing from me except some conversation. He did not elaborate further but repeated it again. Having been so taken by that comment, I honestly don't remember details of the rest of our conversation.

Many years later, when I was working for CBS News on W57th Street, I actually saw him at the corner of W57th and 10th Ave. I understood that the apartment house on the corner was actually a subsidized building that provided apartments for aging actors. He must have been living there! I tried to get his attention but he disappeared behind the front door before I could reach him. Not remembering his name, I couldn't locate him on the registry.

I never saw him again.

But I never forgot him or what he said to me and I will be forever grateful. When I feel beat, spent, down, finished, I think of what he said.

Because, magic can happen - at the right time and place - if you believe.

Today's MOZEN: GO AWAY!

OK. So, here we are again, as if stuck in a scene from the film Ground Hog's Day where instead of a rodent, we're stuck with the image of Donald J. Trump.

Over and Over Again.

Saying the same lame things.

Over and Over Again.

He presents himself as a 12 year-old school yard bully would: blustering and bellowing, making idle threats, and, perhaps worst of all, inventing lame, insulting, juvenile names for his opponents.

No, she does not pronounce her name "18 different ways", she pronounces it one way: Ka-ma-la. 

I mean, seriously, what other adult human being does that?

He claims that she has a very low IQ after stumbling and bumbling over his words for half an hour to get to that point!

And, worse still, is that his crowd eats it up with a large spoon!

Using pejoratives is never the way to win an argument or even make a point, so I do my best to avoid them. Therefore, I will temper my response by using 2 words as a broader term to describe the seemingly blind fanaticism of his followers - willful ignorance.

There is no other rational explanation to me.

Again, I know, I'm preaching to the choir - and a small choir at that. Still, it needs to be said.

Over and over again.

Until he goes away.

Go KA-MA-LA!

 

Today's MOZEN: A CHALLENGE

Woman of the United States, the stars have finally aligned. It may have been a tortuous, circuitous path but DO NOT LOSE this opportunity to seize power now!

I challenge each and every voting American woman to stop complaining about the patriarchy and DO something about it!

Throw ALL of your support behind this intelligent, experienced, sassy, YOUNG, powerful woman.

You have the numbers. You've ALWAYS had the numbers. USE THEM effectively. Anything else is acceptance of failure.

If you recall the last time a woman ran for President (remember Hillary?), a very common refrain from other women was that they couldn't vote for her because she was an "arrogant elite". Unfortunately, that's used far too often to describe educated, aggressive, professional women. Please don't use it again.

We KNOW the consequences of our failure to elect a qualified woman. Remember 2016.

Women of America, unite behind Kamala Harris!

I know that I certainly will.

Today's MOZEN: FIGHT THE PARADOX!

All word and photos by F LoBuono

The more I think about it, the more I believe I've come to understand The Democratic Paradox.

It's certainly not a new concept, but perhaps because of the critical nature of the current threat to the latest version of American Democracy, it seems particularly important to understand it now.

The very nature, the essential essence of Liberal Democracy, is the absolute freedom of any individual to express their opinion on ANY subject, even to the detriment to the very system that allows that expression.

Yes, even if it means the destruction of the personal liberties at the very core of society itself.

This is the paradox.

But, it doesn't have to be this way - if we are wary.

We must remain vigilant for those who will use the system to break the system. They will come in the name of law and order: just as long as it's their law, their order. Those unwilling to comply will be eliminated, one way or the other.

And, this is not hyperbole. It has happened many times in the past and is threating to happen again. See PROJECT 2025.

Democracy, American Democracy is at stake. Don't be bullied by those who will use the flag to beat you over the head with. Being a Liberal Democrat doesn't mean you have to stand there and take it! 

Democracy is NOT a spectator sport.

Fight The Paradox!

VOTE. VOTE. VOTE.

Today's MOZEN: INDEPENENCE REFLECTIONS 2024

Words and photos by F LoBuono

The 4th of July is the time of year that, in addition to firing up the grill, we take a moment or two to think about what it really means to be an American.

At least it is for me.

And should be for all of us.

I'm sure it's probably been said before, but this year it is of particular importance. A huge election looms and choices will be made; choices that will determine the future meaning of what IS an American.

Those of you who have read this blog must know where my sentiments lie and they are as clear as the difference in personality between the 2 men who would be President.

On the one hand, we have the sitting President, Joe Biden, seeking reelection. Even after a disastrous debate performance calling further in question his age issues, he is still the clear choice to represent the America I would like to see continue: inclusive, progressive, compassionate. His record, despite some setbacks, remains solid - as are the people who surround him.

On the other hand, there is Donald Trump, the former President. I'll not mince words. He is a convicted liar and thief. His ego is so bloated that he would not reject the title "king". He mocks the disabled and disrespects woman. And, beyond his personality defects, Trump's draconian policies are reflected in his support from Project 2025, simply put a fancy name for a fascist agenda, one that he would gladly implement. If it were to happen, I feel blogs like mine, critical of the government and the President, would disappear.

And, what's even more frightening, the legacy from his former administration, i.e. his SCOTUS appointees, is already laying the ground work (see their recent decision of Presidential immunity) for it to become the law of the land.

With this in mind, PLEASE reflect on the TRUE meaning of the the 4th of July, i.e. INDEPENDANCE DAY.

WE WILL SERVE NO KING.

VOTE TO MAKE SURE THIS DOESN'T HAPPEN!!!

Today's MOZEN: Life's Greatest Question

In my nearly 70 years on this planet (well, mostly, nod, nod, wink, wink) I've been a searcher and intrepid traveler in the quest for THE most important questions and, hopefully, answers about life itself.

Now, I believe that I can safely say that I certainly don't have many - if any - answers. But I do believe I may have finally found The Greatest, most significant question of our lives:

What should we eat tonight?

Yup. that's it.

What should we eat tonight?

Think about it.

I'm willing to venture that, for virtually ALL  of us, the ONLY question we ask ourselves, our partners, friends and family on a DAILY BASIS is:

What should we eat tonight?

Go ahead, read Plato, Socrates, Kierkegaard, Nietzsche, and ALL the rest and I'll still bet you a $ that they only question they asked themselves on a daily basis was:

What should we eat tonight?

I rest my case. Prove me wrong.

That is all. Carry On.

Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT STORY: The Day I Met Willie Mays

It's one of those experiences that despite the passage of so much time, still remains so clear in your mind.

It must have been the Summer of 1968 or 9 and I was about 12 or 13. We lived in Fort Lee, NJ so the legendary Palisades Amusement Park was a big part of our lives, as it was to virtually everyone who grew up there. In another year or two, I would actually work a Summer there - making cotton candy for $1/hr. Yep. A buck an hour (a story for another post).

Anyway, my father was a Bergen County Sheriff's Deputy and like so many other law enforcement officers of the day (and today) worked extra jobs doing security work. In this case, my father was working at the Park at a place known as the Casino. It was a covered outdoor bar/restaurant with tables, a stage, and an area for dancing. It was near the famous World's Largest Outdoor Salt Water Pool so the dress code was always casual. One of my strongest recollections of the place was that it always smelled like booze, cheap booze. But it also featured performances from some top acts like Smokey Robinson, whom I had seen at least once or twice while my father worked.

Well, one day my father took me with him for one of his security gigs at the place because the one and only Willie Mays was making an appearance to sign autographs. Now, being a life-long, diehard Yankee fan, I thought that Mickey Mantle was the greatest baseball player of that time. However, I readily acknowledged Mays' greatness and was certainly not going to miss an opportunity to meet the legend.

As I recall it was a hot, mid-Summer day, bright and clear when we arrived at Palisades and entered the Casino. I don't remember Willie's arrival but I do remember seeing him surrounded by a big crowd. He was large, but not in a bulky way. He was wearing a polo shirt that exposed his sinewy arms. Mays was smiling broadly, enjoying the crowd. To me, with the sun shining on his ebony skin, I felt like he was glowing. 

Then, I saw something; the sleeves of his polo shirt must have been slightly shorter than his uniform shirt - because I noticed that he had a very distinct tan line. Now, please remember, I'm a young kid growing up in mostly lily-white Fort Lee and my exposure to black folk on very regular basis was limited.

So, I was shocked to see this!

In my youthful naivety I couldn't imagine how this could happen. After all, he was already black. Right?

With my father busy doing his job of crowd control, I tugged on his sleeve to get his attention. I needed an answer to my question: how could that possible be?

When he finally acknowledged me, I explained my dilemma. He calmly answered that, "of course black people can get tan. Some can even get sunburnt, just like you and me."

His response astounded me on a number of levels and I could get into all the esoterica surrounding my feelings to his response. However, instead I'll just say that, to this day, the lesson it so quickly and simply imparted on me was this: in life we are the more same than we are different.

Anyway, I was too intimated by the whole scene to actually ask Willie for his autograph or to have a photo made with him. But I'll always remember the time that I met the Great Willie Mays and the effect it had on me in ways he'll never know. 

Today's MOZEN: On Father's Day, 2024

Father's Day has always been a mixed bag for me; a true Yin Yang situation.

Allow me to explain.

First, I fathered none of my own children. So, I have no direct link to any. But, I did attempt to be a step-father once.

And, I have to acknowledge my own obvious failings as one.

That's not some kind of sad hyperbole. I said obvious with good reason: of the three boys, now men (and not so young anymore), I had under my care for the nearly 15 years I was with their mother and in the many years after, none of them are speaking to me. In fact, 2 pretty much detest me. They believe with good reason.

Of course, there are many complicated issues that led to this point, too many to detail here. I certainly was no ogre and never deliberately did anything to harm them. But the dynamics of culture, age, and personality all combined to make, at least for me, a most difficult situation. They would have their own stories.

Be that as it may, despite many efforts, it simply didn't/hasn't worked out.

So, I will receive well wishes from family and friends but none from them.

It is hurtful but it is what it is.

Now, lastly, and most importantly, the Yin to the Yang (or is it vice versa?) that I mentioned above:

I had the most fantastic father!

Our family was certainly no Ozzie and Harriet American dream but both my parents, despite whatever was happening in their own lives, prioritized out safety and well-being.

Especially my father!

I am shocked to hear of the behavior of other friends' fathers - because mine was SO loving! There wasn't a single day of our lives together that he didn't let me know how much he loved me (us) and how I (we) was the most important thing in his life - ALWAYS and FOREVER. In fact, the bond was so strong that I think it actually made my mother jealous at times.

And, he taught me so much about life.

So, with that in mind and to honor his life and legacy, I would like to share two of those axioms that I use almost everyday of my life.

1. There is no substitute for experience: I believe he learned this from his days as a combat engineer in WWII. When I asked him how he dealt with the paralyzing fear that must come with battle, he always replied, "trust in your training and experience. Once you've been exposed to something, you'll know what to do - and do it". So, live your life to the fullest.

2. When gambling, never bring more money than you can afford to lose - even if you lose ALL of it: this was, of course, a metaphor. He was never a big gambler and neither am I. It did not fit his working-class mentality. However, he did like to have fun, and as I mentioned above, liked to experience life to the fullest. So, he encouraged me to reach but to always understand the consequences of ALL actions.

He's been gone for a long time now. In fact, at this point, I've lived more of my life without him than with. But I feel his presence - and his everlasting love for us, today and EVERYDAY.

You inspire me - always.

 

Remembering. Memorial Day 2024

My father rarely spoke of the horrors of war, preferring to dwell on the positive things he found in military life, like the comradery.

However, at the same time, as a member of Patton's 3rd Army, I know he survived some intense combat, including the legendary Battle of The Bulge (from which, I believe, he inherited his extreme hate of he cold). I also know that it changed him - as it did my uncle and ALL of my friends who survived combat.

He did share with me ONE thing about war and his greatest fear. For some reason, nothing seemed to frighten him more than to find a relatively new combat boot only to discover a human foot in it (the force of intense explosions can cleanly separate joints, hence the expression; blown out of his boots).

I hope that I haven't been too graphic but I wanted to take a moment to remember those who died so young, in so many ways, in so many wars, in so many far away places.

Remember their sacrifice.

Always.

Today's MOZEN. Yes. I'm Saying It Again

Perhaps you've noticed. It's more likely that you haven't, but I haven't written here too much lately.

It's not that I'm not writing at all. Just not here. One of the reasons is that I've been very involved with producing and hosting my own podcast, BEING FRANK, on a weekly basis. Part of my duties include some intensive research and writing for the topic introduction that I make for each program (perhaps you've listened! LOL). So, that somewhat eases my compulsion to write.

The second one is that, quite frankly (oh, I did it again!), I got frustrated with too often writing the same thing over and over again. In fact, it's hard to believe that I began writing about it 8 years ago now.

Donald J. Trump is not a good, or even decent human being. And, it should end there. No politics. No fear. No loathing.

He is not fit to lead ANYTHING.

But, at least I've come to understand that his followers accept his message of an apocalyptic future for America - IF he is not elected. It is both frightening and sad. I, like, most of America (at least I believe it STILL is most of us) share the exact opposite vision, i.e. that if he is elected our Country will decay into fascism led my one large, mostly orange blowhard initialed DJT.

The frightening part is that these Americans actually believe in their hearts and souls that this more-than-flawed man can save them from the intellectuals and liberals who are leading this Country down a path where they will no longer have any advantage to be white and undereducated.

And they are terrified!

Well, as journalists, we are trained to be as objective as humanly possible when reporting. This is sacrosanct. However, there at 2, VERY important words to consider here. They are: humanly and possible.

First, we are human beings and, therefore, capable of making mistakes. We do our absolute best to prevent them from happening but we all know that nothing is perfect in this world and neither are journalists.

Second, and most importantly, in many cases, there is no such thing as objectivity. There are ONLY facts and the CONSLUSIONS to where they bring us!

Let me give a clear and easy to understand example: There is no way to codify the Nazi party of mid-20th Century Germany as anything but corrupt and the embodiment of evil. There are NO two sides here!! There are only the facts that support the results of their policies - tens of millions dead.

However, there are still MANY who believe in their doctrine and can find almost any excuse to justify it. If they can't, they simply don't care and will eliminate you to prove it!

This is an extreme example, but there you have it.

So it is today. There are the impressions - and then there are the facts.

How many reports from people closest to Mr. Trump, good, honest, honorable people, have said, in the clearest terms possible, that he is more than unfit to lead? He is full of avarice, greed, sloth, contempt of the law, and is vindictive.

And, the best (worst) part is that you don't have to believe THEM.

Believe in your own eyes and ears, i.e. what you see and hear on a daily basis!

You've seen and heard him incite the riots attempting to overthrow the government!

You've seen and heard him insult not only opponents but disabled people on a regular basis.

You've seen and heard him threaten judges and their families.

You've seen and heard him insult the service and veterans.

You've seen and heard him insult women by grabbing them in the p.. etc.

You've seen him support dictators and murders like Putin, Urban, and the others.

I could go on. It's actually pretty easy to find ALL of the inexcusable transgressions.

All you have to do is see - not just look - but SEE. Not only listen - but HEAR.

There are no 2 sides. There are those who believe and trust the facts. Then there are those who choose to believe ONLY what they want to.

THERE. So I've said it again.

Because it needs to be.

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Today's MOSTLY TRUE SHORT STORY: Ride On!

When I was in my wild college years, I had the good fortune of dating a woman who lived near a ranch in New Paltz, New York. The whole scene and most of the people involved were, shall we say in the parlance of the time, Counter Culture.

The ranch itself was run by a guy named Louie, yes Louie. Even though we were a long way from the Wild West, he looked as if you asked Central Casting to send up a traditional cowboy, Louie would show up. He provided livestock for rodeos up and down the entire East Coast. How he wound up doing that on a ranch in New Paltz, NY or where he actually came from, I either have no idea or simply don't remember any more!

Louie

My girlfriend, Kathy, was somewhat of an anomaly too. I met her while we students together at Rutgers in Newark. She was a nice Italian girl who lived with her mother and brother in a small, back apartment in Bloomfield, NJ. So, even though she was a city girl, her late father gave her a healthy appreciation for nature and that's where she preferred to spend her time. In fact, when we first met we were both biology majors with an emphasis on studying the environment.

So, rather than spend her summers in dreary Bloomfield or Newark, NJ she would work on Louie's ranch in New Paltz. She worked mucking the stables and, in return, she got to board and ride her own horse in her free time.

It was there, with her, that this nice Sicilian boy from Fort Lee, NJ whose soul belonged to the big city, learned to ride horses - and love it.

I have to say that even though I had little to no experience as an equestrian, I was kind of a natural. As a kid, I always loved cowboys and cowboy movies. In fact, while most kids wore sneakers, I was known for wearing cowboy boots while clomping around the streets of Fort Lee. I kept that tradition right on through my college days. I was also as strong as could be, probably at the height of my physical powers. So, I had no natural fear of horses. I respected their awesome capacity as athletes and their unmatched physical ability to run, seemingly forever. But I had no fear.

Kathy was always gracious and would allow me to bring some of my derelict friends from the neighborhood for a day of riding in the country. We all got to choose a horse that suited our skill levels, with most of the horse being pretty docile.

But not all.

And those were the horses I wanted to ride!

I could hardly wait to get to an empty, open field where I could really let that horse - and me - go! I'd give him a good kick in the flanks and let him run. I loved getting out over the reigns, not leaning back but surging forward. Everything meshed so that me and the horse were now as one; legs, torsos, heads, in unison, all as one. That awkward trot was now replaced by a full out, balls to the wall charge!

Then, like my ol' 1967 Pontiac Firebird Formula 400 with the supercharged 400 cubic inch engine and the Holley 4 Barrell Carburetor, just when you though that you had maxed out your speed, like kicking in that 4 Barrell, that horse would gulp in the extra air with a whooomp and off we went.

Fearless. As one.

I don't think that I was ever a particularly masterful equestrian but, man I could really ride.

I miss those days. 

Today's MOZEN: NO MORE WAR!

Recently, I was fooling around with a TV and Apple stream box that I set up in my basement. It's a finished basement so, you know, it's perfect for the so-called man cave. At least I can pursue my various nefarious activities with my other equally depraved friends without exposing my most gentle partner, Amanda, to the indignity of such behavior.

Anyway, I was surfing through what was available to me for free with the streaming device. I had already stumbled upon some real gems like Wolf Hall on PBS Masterpiece Theater, when I saw a title, 1864. The photo associated with the program was of soldiers wearing blue uniforms and sporting the military weapons of the day. So, being a BIG Civil War buff, I thought it would be in that genre and I began watching the series.

Well, it IS a war drama but not about the American Civil War at all. It's actually a Danish series about the Second Schleswig War between Denmark and the German Federation. It's told in both Dutch and German with English subtitles.

The story is told through the eyes of a young, very hip, very rebellious young woman who takes a job caring for an old man whom she thinks is senile. After her initial aversion to the old man and the job, he wins her over by having her read a worn, dusty diary that tells the story of 2 bothers, their loves and friends in the crucible of this vicious and savage war. Once she begins reading, she cannot put the diary down.

Simply put, I was so overwhelmed by the production, in EVERY way, that I actually had a visceral reaction to it. I mean, it made me FEEL so many emotions. I laughed. I cried, etc. The acting and writing were simply superb. The battle scenes were staggeringly real AND effective. You could FEEL the terror of battle. In fact, there were times that the carnage of combat was so horrific that I had to look away. And when I did return my gaze, my eyes were filled with tears. I believe that, for as violent and gory as some of the scenes were, the bloodshed was NEVER simply gratuitous. The level of human savagery at such times was clearly displayed and, despite the very real moments of desperate bravery, always left me with this message: there is NO glory in war. And even the victors are effected. No one can survive that and NOT be changed.

There is a point at the end of one of the episodes that brings us to a special hospital after a particularly brutal battle. It is special because the patients are not suffering from physical wounds but, rather, ones of the mind and SOUL. Today, we call it PTSD. In those days it was known as Battle Fatigue. There bodies may be alive but their souls have died. This creates a type of emotional conflict that only be described as madness. And EVERONE is affected by it to different degrees. Yes, even the so-called victors suffer. The only thing that ultimately eases their pain is the belief that they won because their cause was more just.

But, doesn't EVERY soldier feel that way?

This is another important theme expressed in the series.

They say that this cauldron of unspeakable brutality reveals both the best AND worst of human nature. And the battle scenes within the series reinforce this tenet.

There are warriors whose fierce ethos allows them to not only survive but actually thrive in battle. There are those whose lack of character labels them as cowards. And, of course, there are the rest of us who do our best to acknowledge our fear while at the same time finding the strength to overcome it. However, they are ALL human!

In the end, the message I took from this outstanding series, especially considering what is happening around the globe, is that there is no such thing as a good war. EVERYONE suffers. And, it begs the question; if we KNOW it to be so horrible, why do we keep waging it?

Rhetorical you say? Perhaps. But, I'd like to think we have the answer. We even have a word for it - LOVE.

 

Todays' MOZEN: The Way of The World

We live in an age of technological marvels. When I think of the staggering amount of change someone like my mother who lived through most of the 20th Century and into the 21st witnessed, it truly boggles the mind.

Perhaps the most impressive of these achievements is the amount of information we receive and process on a daily basis. We have something called The Internet to thank for this. It's not hyperbole to claim that we consume more information in a single afternoon than most generations before us did in their lifetimes!

And, it's both a blessing and a curse.

It is a blessing for what should be the obvious reasons: it puts virtually ALL of the world's collective knowledge at our fingertips. Today, there is absolutely NO excuse for willful ignorance. If (and it's a BIG IF) we know how to access this information and view it with an eye towards actual learning and understand instead of mindless acceptance simply because we WANT it to be true, there is NOTHING we can't learn.

However, it is also a curse because THAT much information, especially when so much of it is just blatant crap and lies, can be an assault on the senses with its own corresponding modern day mental disorders.

Having worked as a journalist, mostly in the TV News profession, I have a natural curiosity and healthy desire to KNOW and UNDERSTAND things. So, even in retirement, I find myself as a great consumer of information - ALL kinds of it.

Again, allow me to use my endless supply of hackneyed phrases because, once again: what's good about that is also what's bad. It's two sides of the same coin. It's Yin and Yang.

So I find myself between a rock and a hard place (OMG, I did it again!). I voraciously devour information on a daily basis while at the same time abhor some of the things I read about!

And, it can be overwhelming.

Perhaps what I grapple with most is how vast the range of the human experience is. How can it be that we, as a species are capable of the most sublime thought, the most heartfelt compassion, the most joyful expressions like music and art, selfless acts of giving, a drive to learn and know more, and a desire to simply love and be loved while being the absolute antithesis of everything that I just wrote, i.e. greedy, cruel, willfully ignorant, angry, and loveless. In other words, people suck.

Well, I suppose the best way to deal with the confusion is to acknowledge that THIS is what we are: a complex creature with a range of thought and emotion like no other creature. Yes, other creatures think and feel too, but not with the complexity of the human being.

But, I can't control what others think or feel. Actually, I have no desire to. I have enough on my plate just dealing with my own issues and feelings. So, I control what I can, i.e. my thoughts and then, actions. And, both are more simple to achieve than you can imagine.

First, I've come to learn that I don't have to be everything to everyone. I just have to be myself and trust in the principals I have always held dear - the ones bequeathed me by parents:

- Respect all life.

- Love is always more powerful than hate.

- Be honest.

- Be fearless when you know it's important to be.

- Have integrity.

- Live to learn and learn to live.

- Never raise your fists FIRST in anger.

- Always protect yourself.

- Never touch others without THEIR permission.

- Never let others touch you without YOUR permission.

- Never mark your body or allow others to do so.

- Try to be a good friend.

- Don't judge yourself by the success or failure of others.

- Protect the innocent, even at your own peril.

- Never let anyone deliberately insult you.

- Never deliberately insult others.

- There is no substitute for experience.

- It's OK to fail.

- It's OK to cry.

- What people do in the privacy of their own bedrooms is their own business.

- When one door closes, another opens.

- The world owes you nothing!

Look, I don't have ALL the answers. But does anyone? Really? Like virtually all of us, I'm just doing the best that I can to make sense of a world who's very existence came to being in chaos! It can be the way of the world - just don't make it yours.

 

Today's MOZEN: Preaching To The Choir - Again!

Frank LoBuono

We're all guilty of it. At some point after repeating to ourselves over and over again, we just say, why bother? Nothing changes. And, if you're my age, you may recall the oft-repeated parental mantra; why do I have to keep saying this until I'm blue in the face?

As we seem at some inevitable point to become our parents, we find ourselves parroting the same themes, well, because they're mostly true.

This is one of those times when I currently find myself in the same predicament as it comes to my opposition to one Presidential candidate: Donald J. Trump.

Why bother?

I get frustrated saying the same things to the same audience, over and over again. And I've been doing it for years. Mr. Trump is a poor excuse not only for a leader but even as a decent human being. He is NOT FIT for ANY important position, much less as the most powerful man in the world.

The fact that his repeated abhorrent and even illegal behavior is not only tolerated but supported by millions simply boggles the mind of any reasonable human being. DJT does not appeal to me on ANY level and I can't reason how it might to others. I simply can't.

And its not just a personality conflict. That man and his followers are DANGEROUS. His outrageous, above-the-law, take-no-prisoners personality reeks of despotism. He abuses women and bullies subordinates. The more he steals from them the more they seem to support him. Our Constitution that insists that no one is above the law doesn't seem to apply here - not when it comes to one DJT.

His minions rally under the flag of fascism masquerading as patriotism. They greedily gobble up the raw meat of hatred and bigotry he happily feeds them on a daily basis. They roar at his ridiculous taunts and insults of anyone who opposes him like a 12 year-old school yard bully instead of a former President of the United States.

They continually ignore his mounting legal problems, even making him a martyr for the cause of White Privilege.  Trump's anti-migrant, violent, fear and loathing rhetoric fits their narrative that this is a white, Christian country with no room for anyone else who doesn't fit that description.

Tragically, as displayed by the despicable behavior his followers exhibited on 1/6, they are even willing to destroy our very Republic on HIS behalf - all for a pack of lies. 

Just because I haven't said it ENOUGH, Donald J. Trump is NOT a leader. He IS a thief, liar, and grifter. He will never be more than that, no matter how many continue to buy his shit.

And to once again prove that I have indeed become my parents, I will add another ancient but accurate expression: I'm preaching to the choir.

I know.

Now, this now brings me back to my original theme for this post:

Why bother?

Who's mind will I really change?

Well, probably no one who will actually read this post. But I don't know that for sure.

One thing I DO know comes from one of the most brilliant American voices of all time, Dr. Martin Luther King:

Our lives begin to end the day we begin to become silent about things that matter.

So, Dr. King, I will honor you. My life will not end. Not now. I WILL NOT BE SILENT.

SAVE DEMOCRACY. VOTE. VOTE. VOTE!