Today's MOZEN 7/16/2013

Words by F LoBuono

I should be reading
but I'm not

I should be writing
but I'm not

I should be exercising
but I'm not

I should be resting
but I'm not

I'm just being
me

Today's MOZEN 7/14/2013

Words and photo by F LoBuono

My policy is when there is so much to say AND too much has already been said, say little. So it will be with sharing some thoughts on The People of the State of Florida vs. George Zimmerman.

I'm not interested in discussing the legal aspects of the case. I am not a lawyer. Besides, The People have spoken and the law and verdict must be respected. However, I say this: my heart is broken. A 16 year-old boy is dead. Trayvon Martin. A sixteen year-old boy. A boy who went to buy candy and never returned. Now, a mother has no son. A father clings to memories of the boy whose photo he clutches in his hand. TWO families are broken. Why? A reasonable question to ask. Did race play a role? Perhaps? Many say likely. Fear? Certainly. Finding the answers, if we can, may help us to heal.

But my focus is on the singular force that altered the fate of not just two men, but two families. It is a small object that weighs no more than a few pounds. It was legally obtained and easily concealed. And it changed everything. EVERYTHING. That gun not only killed Trayvon Martin, it emboldened George Zimmerman to the point of unnecessary confrontation in the first place. The bottom line is: NO GUN - NO DEAD BOY.

Justice, as written by Florida law, has been served. I hold nothing against the jury or defense lawyers. However, morally, this is a tragedy in every sense of the word. It moves me to the point of exasperation. A young man, walking home from buying candy, walks no more. Ultimately, I don't care if he was white, black, or green. He was a young man, a boy, with every right to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. These things, he was denied. And there are no words left to describe the grief . . .

Today's MOZEN 7/12/2013

Words and photo by F LoBuono

I am so fortunate to live in a beautiful apartment, located on a wooded lot, that has large, bay windows. In addition to the wonderful light the large windows grant me, they also allow me access to my little "half-acre" of nature. This means that, every morning, when the windows are wide open, I'm serenaded by a cacophony of sweet bird melodies. In fact, sometimes, it's an actual riot of sound! However, I also live about two blocks from the NYS Thruway and the Tappan Zee Bridge, two MAJOR transportation routes into New York City and the surrounding metro complex. In other words, there's plenty of traffic and the noise associated with it. And, this, my friends, provides the perfect metaphor for the yin and yang that is also known as life:

You can't enjoy the sweet music of the birds without the sound of the traffic, too. It's a matter of choice and perception. Which one will you choose to "hear"?

Today's MOZEN 7/4/2013

Words and Photo by F LoBuono

I often ask myself, why bother writing? I'm sure others ask the same thing: yes, Frank, why ARE you still writing? When you stop laughing, I'll explain. Just when I'm feeling like it's all some colossal waste of time (I mean is anyone REALLY reading this stuff? Does anyone care? SHOULD anyone care?), I'll read something that demonstrates why ALL writers are compelled to write. When one skillful enough can marry the passion of ideas with the power to communicate through the written word, the results can transform the world.

So, it was, on this Fourth of July, the anniversary of the Birth of a Nation, I was once again truly inspired by one of the greatest documents ever conceived and brilliantly executed: The United States Declaration of Independence. The power in the words makes them ALIVE and, through that strength, moved us to the action that changed the world forever. Their eloquence captures the essence of dignity, liberty, and justice.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness. That to secure these rights, Governments are instituted among Men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed. . .

Do yourself a favor and read the entire document. Whether you consider yourself a "traditional" patriot or someone, perhaps, a bit more "anti-establishment", one cannot help but be moved and inspired by such a noble attempt to show the world a possible path to real freedom. And, 237 years later, those words still ring true.

HAPPY FOURTH OF JULY EVERYONE!!

Today's MOZEN 7/2/2013

Words and photo by F LoBuono

It's pretty obvious to most who read my work, or know me personally, that I'm not a particularly religious person. One might say my approach to things spiritual are non-traditional to say the least. In fact, the many of those who see me as downright iconoclastic in my approach to traditional religion would, indeed, be accurate. But I've also tried to make it clear that, at the same time, I certainly see myself as a spiritual person, i.e. a seeker of inner truth, clarity, and, subsequently, enlightenment and eventual salvation. And I see how the two can be interpreted as different.

So, I pray. It may be my version of what a prayer is, but it most certainly is just that. I pray to many of the entities that have been with us from the beginning of time and shine the light of love on the path to justice, righteousness, consciousness, and lasting peace. I want to live with passion and compassion. I want to know what it is to live without hate, avarice, greed, and intolerance. I want to sow the seeds of justice, patience, and understanding. And I pray. I pray to the Buddha to share his way of enlightenment with me. I pray to Jesus, Prince of Peace, to open my heart and accept the true way to salvation through forgiveness. I pray to the earth, the wind, and the sun, and the rain. And I pray to my ancestors to give me guidance on the long and winding path of life.

I have no church, no temple, no ashram. I endorse, nor condemn, any religion (unless it harms others). I pray where I sit, where I walk, where I stand, where I lay. And I pray whenever the spirit, any SPIRIT, moves me.

LIFE IN THE SKY I

LIFE IN THE SKY II

Today's MOZEN 6/27/2013

Words and photo by F loBuono

I was thinking of prefacing this MOZEN with the standard, bull shit disclaimer: I am not gay, but I have friends who are . . . Well, FUCK THAT! It's not necessary. It should have never been necessary. Not here. Not in MY America.

After yesterday's Historic Supreme Court ruling essentially striking down the so-called DOMA (Defense of Marriage Act) as unconstitutional, the Court paved the way for real change - and most certainly for the better. Gay couples, should they decide to marry, will now be afforded, UNDER THE LAW, the same rights and protections as heterosexual married couples (I often tease by saying married gay couples are as entitled to be as miserable as heterosexual ones!). I am not a lawyer, and forgive the oversimplification, but, to me, this is not an issue about marriage, or sex, or tradition. It is one of FREEDOM. The freedom to be whom you choose to be AND to be WITH. Should have NEVER been any other way in a truly FREE society. It may be a shame that it took this long, but, be that as it may, it is here now.

It was, once again, a privilege to be assigned to cover this historic story. I spent nearly four hours at the epicenter of the gay-rights movement, The Stonewall Inn in Greenwich Village, NYC. Thousands of revelers on the streets in front of the Inn listened to speaker after speaker speak with joy at the liberation this would mean for themselves and their community. I felt the energy and it moved me. I could see the relief and release in their ear to ear smiles. THIS is what America should be, and IS, about!!

So, here's your MOZEN:

Yesterday was not about marriage, or, in the final analysis, even love. It was about freedom - freedom to be who you are, love as you choose, and EQUALITY UNDER LAW.

A DAY AT THE BEACH - The 30th Annual Coney Island Mermaid Parade.

Coney Island. Those of you who have been kind enough to follow some of the stories from my youth recognize the importance of this most unique of islands. I have long maintained that, despite the grit, grime, and crime, Coney Island remains one of the most special places on the planet. There are many reasons that I make this claim, not the least of which is its incredible diversity. In walking the length of its historic boardwalk, it is not unusual to hear four or five different languages; English, Spanish, Italian, Yiddish, and, of course, now Russian. It has always been the epicenter of the melting pot and it still is.

While most of my friends would "summer" at the Jersey Shore, my mother would pack up me, my sister, and my brother and load us on the subway for our annual two weeks at The Poor Man's Riviera, Coney Island. Of course, we would protest; but our friends are at the Shore! And Stella always responded: it's the same ocean!! Besides, my cousins were there and, so, we always had a blast. Coney Island played a huge part. We would pack up the beach chairs, umbrellas and coolers and trudge along Coney Island Avenue to the beach and boardwalk at Bay 8th St. Sun up to sun set, you could find me, my siblings, and our cousins at the beach or on the boardwalk. I had more magic moments growing up there than at virtually any other time or place. Our time there has become part of my family's mythology.

My grandmother is gone, as is the house she raised my mother and her siblings in. I believe that it was sold to a Russian-Jewish family who make up the most current wave of immigrants to "the pot". But some of my family remains there providing a current connection. However, I certainly need few excuses to return to a place that remains so special in my life! I can still hear the echoes of the knish and coke cola vendor who incessantly walked the beach, back and forth, forth and back, all summer long. Hey, get your HOT potato knishes, and, after just the briefest of pauses, ice cold cokes, HERE, he would bellow. I see him, in my minds eye: bare, barrel chest, his white chest hair blowing in the ocean breeze. Cut-off jeans and lace less sneakers completed his beach couture. In each hand he carried a sturdy shopping bag. One contained the wrapped, hot potato knishes - the other, kept cold by a lump of dry-ice was the coke cola. As soon as we heard him coming, yards down the beach, my siblings, cousins and I immediately began the process of squealing for money to purchase one of those hot potato knishes to devour and wash it down with an ice cold coke. Certainly, this was on my mind this past weekend when I returned with my dear friend, Cynthia, for The 30th Annual Mermaid Parade.

The Parade celebrities the incredible diversity and creativity that IS Coney Island. For nearly five hours, costumed revelers march down streets with very appropriate names like Mermaid, Surf, and Neptune. Held to celebrate the official arrival of summer, many people are surprised that this is "only" the 30th Anniversary. It seems to conjure images of the by-gone era of Coney's gilded golden age. It was actually organized in 1983 to attract visitors back to the boardwalk and its attractions which had previously fallen on hard times. However, it IS the natural evolution of the famous Coney Island Mardi Gras Parades of the early Twentieth Century. My mother recalls with great fondness sneaking away with her girlfriends to attend the parade and festivities. Her strict, Sicilian father would never have approved of such wanton frivolity!!

So, knowing that the traffic and crowds would be equally insane, we decided to take the "D" train from midtown to Coney. We parked the car on 57th St. and walked to the Subway Station at Columbus Circle to begin our sojourn. And, so it began. Apparently, in gabbing and not paying attention, we got on the "D" in the wrong direction! However, instead of being a "downer", inadvertently taking the train in the wrong direction right from the beginning so that we had a "wonderful tour of the Bronx" just became another part of our great adventure. When we did arrive on a sun-splashed, blazing day, the crowd of tens of thousands already lined the streets and boardwalk. Once again, the incredible diversity that identifies Coney Island was readily on display. This was apparent not only among the marchers but the crowd, as well. There were blacks, whites, browns, yellows, reds, old, young, gay and straight - all mashed together - in the heat - without incident - all having a blast. And there were mermaids, mermaids, and more mermaids. There were even merdogs! THIS is the beauty of Coney!!

Despite the joy of the afternoon, the crowds, at some point, can become overwhelming. After a few hours soaking up the sun and the flavor, it was time to go. But not before we made a pit stop at the legendary L And B Spumoni Gardens, since 1939 one of Brooklyn's dining gems. We managed to catch the "D" in the right direction this time and in an hour we were back in the "real world".

I present the following photographs in the order in which they were made. I hope that will provide you a timeline of what it is really like to attend the legendary Coney Island Mermaid Parade.