Take your bird and stuff it.

Here is the link to the The Gobble Gobble blog

The other half will be cooking a ham for Thanksgiving, I will be eating the ham on Thanksgiving. Works out kinda nice doesn’t it?
Those who know me and know me well can attest to the fact that I can’t cook to save myself.
I have destroyed so many pots and pans, honestly, if the microwave did not exsist, I’d starve.
Oh yea, I can burn a grilled cheese sandwich, burn toast, and have the fire department stop by for cake as well a putting out the kitchen fire.

Trust me, you only want me in the kitchen to raid the cookie jar.
the only good I am do the kitchen is make reservations.

The Changing Landscape

The reconstruction of one of the last buildings in the area of the original World Trade Center is almost complete.

After more than two decades, the site of the St. Nicholas Greek Orthodox Church was rebuilt and consecrated on July 4th, 2022.

In a way, a sense of healing has come to the area. The rebuilt church will be a place for people to remember and reflect on the loss, and to heal.

Other buildings in the WTC are still under construction. Among them are 5 World Trade Center, which was approved and is expected to be completed in 2029, and the Ronald O. Perelman Performing Arts Center, set to open on September 15th.

The base of 2 WTC is completed, but the expected completion date is unknown.

There have been other changes over the last 22 years, some of them fermenting even before the attack on the United States. We now have lockdown drills. When I was young, we had fire drills; now we have drills to shelter in place. In late July and early August, my employer had two of them. I’d never experienced one before, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. I found it extremely unsettling — and I’m 62, not a child in grade school. I can only imagine what we’re doing to our children, the possible psychological damage these lockdown drills are causing.

The physical landscape has changed along with the mental landscape — sadly, for the most part, not for the better.

We can rebuild a structure, but rebuilding hearts and minds is harder … and will take a lot longer.

Numbers And Words On The Screen

There are numbers etched in my mind and heart from the tragic morning of 9/11.

– 2,977 lives lost

– 343 bravest of the brave

– 23 of New York and New Jersey’s finest.

Most of these numbers are well-known, but there is one number that stands out. One that is never mentioned.

99.

That is how many days the fires burned at the pile before they were all extinguished.

It has been 21 years. But for some of us, it still feels like yesterday; for some of us, that will be true until we close our eyes for good.

For those of us with hearing loss, watching television can be a challenge.

Many years ago, there was a separate box that hearing-impaired individuals had to get, in order to read the closed captions on their television screens. Now there are chips built in to televisions so people can turn closed captions on their sets on and off.

There are various closed caption providers, such as television station WGBH in Boston. The funding for closed captions is provided by sponsors of television shows – and in some cases, by the production companies themselves.

I used to belong to a group on social media comprised of broadcasters and broadcasting professionals.

I found this from a gentleman named Jeff Hutchins, about closed captions providers from that sad day 21 years ago:

“Here’s a different angle on the coverage of the events of 9/11/2001.

I worked at VITAC, the closed-captioning company headquartered in Pittsburgh. Each day, we captioned live the early morning shows on NBC and CBS. We were on the air starting at 5:30 am and continuing through 9:00 am, a job that required several stenocaptioners (specially trained court reporters) and assistants. VITAC was also contracted to provide captions anytime NBC News went on the air with a Special Report. Another company, the Media Access Group at WGBH (Boston), provided the same emergency captioning service for CBS, while the National Captioning Institute in Falls Church, VA (NCI) covered ABC.

When the World Trade Center was hit, we knew we would be remaining on the air indefinitely, a feat that would require more specialists than we had on the morning shift. We called in our entire staff of real-time captioners.

The captions we created in our studios were transmitted over dial-up modems from Pittsburgh to the networks in New York. Normally, we would disconnect from the data encoders at 9:00 am, but on 9/11, we stayed connected. We were lucky that our phone links were not dropped, and we were able to continue captioning. The other companies were not so lucky.

WGBH was ready to take over for CBS at 9:00 am, but they could not get a line to NYC. Neither could NCI. In an extraordinary moment of cooperation among rival companies, VITAC served as the data conduit for all the live captioning on network news that day and the next day. WGBH and NCI connected to VITAC’s modems, which were then routed through data switchers to CBS and ABC facilities with no interruption of service.

Dozens of court reporters at the three companies worked around the clock for several days to ensure that every word of live coverage was accessible. Although this effort was unprecedented, it was no accident. VITAC had designed and installed data switchers in 1995 for precisely this possibility. Those switchers had never been used until 9/11, but they worked flawlessly, as did the engineers and captioning staff at VITAC, ‘GBH, and NCI.

One thing I will never forget: watching stenocaptioners continue typing every word they heard in real time even as their shoulders shook from crying and tears streamed down their faces.”

I could never begin to thank the closed caption providers enough for the service that most of us take for granted.

As the bird flies, as the fish swims.

Birds fly all over Manhattan; you cannot miss them. They leave droppings all over the place: on cars, statues, people. You get the idea.

Yet, on that beautiful Tuesday morning, a bird ­ an innocent bird, flying in lower Manhattan ­ was struck by a piece of one of the planes, and was killed. Just like the innocent passengers on the planes, the bird was a victim of terrorism. No one mentions the innocent birds that were killed; the only time I heard of any birds dying was on NPR.

The boats in New York harbor made like fish and swam from lower Manhattan, like the exodus from Dunkirk ­ except in larger numbers, and more quickly. One boat left without its captain, and for one round trip, a crew member piloted the vessel. One captain said he wished he could have gone to the top of each building, to rescue the people trapped in each of the towers.

Watercraft ­ from small boats to multi-million-dollar yachts to ferries all went from lower Manhattan to Staten Island and New Jersey and back again, for several hours, until the evacuation was complete.

The birds and fish, like the boats, move the same way, to safety. Then there were the dogs.

As it became a recovery effort, there were specially-trained dogs, whose sole purpose was to sniff out and recover the remains. They were there for days, weeks, months. Even as the fires kept burning, the dogs kept working at sniffing out the remains.

Within a few years, most of the dogs died from the toxins from the site. One dog lived long enough to appear at the fifteenth-anniversary memorial service; that dog would die shortly thereafter.

Twenty years. After all this time, what lessons have we learned from that painful day? Have we become complacent and just moved on?

No. I have not. As long as I have a breath in me, I will make sure that we always remember all those who were lost, the missing and the dead, on that beautiful Tuesday morning.

And I hope that we have become a more tolerant people and nation, who freely accept others’ beliefs and cultures … who do not grow hesitant when we hear an Islamic call to prayer.

2,977 of my brothers and sisters ­343 of the Bravest of the Brave who ever walked the streets of New York ­are dead. I will do what I can to keep their memory alive.

Lights on, lights off and the power that goes with it

Photo © 2010 Michael P. Judge. Used by permission. All Rights Reserved.

I listen to the radio on my iPhone, mostly Q104.3 out of New York City. It is a classic rock station with a stunning morning man, Jim Kerr, and his cohost, Shelli Sonstein.

Shelli Sonstein is one of the most vocal of the supporters  of the 9/11 community, informing listeners of the passing of a firefighter who has died from the deadly toxins, and about testing for those who were in and around the lower Manhattan area after the attacks.

It was stated in the July 28th edition of the New York Daily News that two new studies suggest that 9/11 responders are at a higher risk for dementia due to the toxins at the World Trade Center site. There are members of the station that are on the board of the Stephen Siller Tunnel 2 Towers Foundation. This incredible charity has helped first responders who have been severely injured build mortgage-free accessible homes, and even paid off debts for the families of first responders who have died in the line of duty.

In early August, the 9/11 Memorial and Museum announced that the Tribute In Lights would not take place this year due to COVID-19.

Former Mayor Michael Bloomberg, who sits on the board of the museum, nudged the museum to rethink their position. The outcry and backlash was loud and ferocious. I think Mayor Bloomberg shoved hard at the museum.

After the announcement, the Tunnel 2 Towers Foundation stated they would have their own Tribute In Lights set up. Within three days, the 9/11 museum changed course.

Now the Reading Of The Names will be a recording due to COVID-19. The Tunnel 2 Towers will have the families read the names of the loved ones who were lost at an alternate site.

The power of the light will still shine.

Not dead yet.

So this is how it ends.

About 8 years ago, I had an Electromyography link, EMG, done after being diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. The test results stated that I would lose the use of both legs, the right one first within ten years.

My partner at the time was with me as the test was administrated and told later the tech had a smirk on his face and seemed to enjoy what he was doing.

That was a little unnerving.

Within the last 5-6 months, I’ve notice unusual difficulty in walking, I was wondering if it was related to the cramping that had been going on in both legs. Then it hit me, the electromyography test! The legs are getting worse sooner than I expected.

So it appears I’ll be in a wheelchair sooner than expected.

But that just the beginning.

The real fun started off with the cardiologist wanted to do the carotid ultrasound and his office called me November 2018 to try and set it up for early January 2019.

Having been born with a congenital heart defect, I try to keep on top of my cardiovascular health.

It had been close to 18 months since I had the carotid ultrasound done and every time I tried to have it done, either I was sick or he was. January cane and his office called to cancel on me. I should have billed him for my lost time.

Finally, in February, they called and wanted an EKG first, then possibly a nuclear stress test.

I had the EKG done, but the sine wave on the EKG did not look right to a couple on his staff and this was the second time the sine wave didn’t look right.

So the cardiologist wanted a nuclear stress test.

I had the stress test on February 12th and during it started having chest pains.

The cardiologist did not like that I had chest pains during the stress test and opted to have a cardiac catheterization done in Syracuse, about 50 miles (80 km), from Utica after the stress test.

I called my friend Bridget in Columbus Ohio, and asked her if she would come and help take me to the hospital and stay with me during the recovery after the procedure, Bridget gladly accept my offer and I sent her the money she needed to travel here.

We rented a car and went to the St. Joseph’s in Syracuse on February 26th.

We arrived on time and when I got to my “room” -curtained off area on the cardiovascular section of the hospital- we turned on the television to CNN.

The nurse came in to go over the details and put in a saline line in my left arm. That went in with no trouble, however, putting in line in for the sedation was a different story.

The nurse blew putting that line in the first time, but managed to put it in the second time.

As I was laying in the bed, listening to to CNN, I gave Bridget my cell phone and told her to in case the surgeon decided to take me immediately into bypass surgery to call my brother Kevin first then our friend Linda in Maine who is the executor of my estate.

I was a Boy Scout, so I’m always prepared.

As I’m laying there, I kept waiting for the sedative to kick in. Of course it did and I was knocked out without realizing it.

Since St. Joseph’s where I had the procedure was a Catholic hospital, a priest cane in to give me a blessing. Since I was unconscious for most of it, I managed to woke up long enough when the priest anointed my forehead to say, “God bless CNN.” Then I paused long enough to say “God bless pizza.”

The priest asked me what I liked in my pizza, I replied green peppers and onions. Bridget reminded me what I said later, I interrupted her and said, “That’s wasn’t a dream, I actually said that?!”

About 11:30 they were going to move me to the operating room, the nurse cane in and asked me if I could get up and climb onto the gurney under my own power and do the same to get on the operating table. At that point I was sedated enough I could only manage one word answers, which was “No”.

When they moved me from the gurney to the operating table, it was at that point that I had the urge to urinate. Laying there I’m started debating; should I urinate on the operating table or hold it in.

At the same time I’m trying to stay cognizant of my surroundings in case later I have to tell my lawyer what happened. Again, thinking ahead.

The right wrist is where the put the line in for the catheterization, while the line is being put in, I thought the guy putting it in was trying to shake my hand, so I tried to shake his hand. Finally the tech putting the line in tells me, “No, no, stop, I’m not trying to shake your hand Mr. Judge!”

After I stopped trying to shake his hand, he inserted the line and the procedure began. It lasted about twenty minutes, ending with the words, “There’s no blockage, your hearts fine.”

So, after I’m in recovery, the surgeon comes in confirms that everything is is good and my heart is in great shape and asks if I have any questions.

I only had one; when can I have a Guinness?

The doctor asked how often I drank, Bridget replied rarely.

The surgeon said Friday. That was on Tuesday. Bridget and I each had steak and a Guinness Friday night. She left Saturday and I have never been more grateful to anyone in my life.

So, that was February. October for the first time in 5 years, the shingles returned. Outside of that I’ve remained healthy.

Then on 20 December I was told I have prostate cancer.

A New Day

Dawn will rise again as it has for decades. People get up and go to work or school.

Children will be born, and adults will take their final breaths.

As rebuilding continues throughout Lower Manhattan – some not scheduled to be completed for several more years — this day will be a new day.

But this new day begins with reminders of the past. Although the 9/11Victim Compensation Fund will take care of many of the affected first responders for the next 72 years, some other programs are reaching their caps, and some people will not receive the help they desperately need.

This new day sees a changing landscape all over New York City and the United States as a whole.

In Congress, new leadership is in place. Women who had been considered an afterthought are now getting their voices heard. They want change – viable, realistic change to everyday life. Today’s women will bring change that no one may have ever imagined – and ideally, for the better.

For some, this new dawning day brings a reminder of the heartbreak of that beautiful Tuesday morning. After almost 18 years, firefighter Michael Haub’s remains have been positively identified by City of New York medical examiners. Today roughly 40 percent of those killed have yet to be identified.

On this new day, firefighter Michael Haub’s family will finally be able to give him a proper funeral and put him in his final resting place.

The struggle goes on for those families whose loved ones gave their lives 18 years ago. Their children have become adults, and some of them are going into the ranks of FDNY and serving the greater good.

For them, it’s a new day.

The Diminishing Of Time And Of Air.

As the anniversary approaches, I think of what has diminished in the time since that Beautiful Tuesday Morning.

It is the continuous loss of life that goes on now. When the gray plume of ash surrounded lower Manhattan carrying carcinogens, I knew the death toll would be staggering and we would lose more lives because of the unknown contents of the gray clouds.

Sadly, also unknown were the long term effects of the carcinogenic air after the Towers fell.

We know now that the air was unsafe, that the federal government pushed to have air as well as the area declared “safe” and this was done willingly by individuals who were ill equipped to do their jobs because they were in their jobs as appeasement for a political party.

Christine Todd Whitman was unqualified as the head as the Environmental Protection Agency, having no clear understanding of the validity of air samples were nor what clean air standards are at all.

The actions taken by unqualified people now account for more than 171 deaths of fire responders from the toxic air after the Towers collapsed.

On July 25, 2018, the New York Daily News reported the remains of Scott Michael Johnson have been identified by the Office of the Medical Examiner of the City of New York. His remains are the 1,642nd to be identified.

More lives will be lost through the dimming time ahead due to the toxic air from the Beautiful Tuesday Morning and now at least two first responders a week are dying.

All of these lives lost should be considered Line Of Duty Deaths.

Just as the 343 of New York’s Bravest should never been forgotten, those who have died and are dying of cancer from the toxic gray plume should never be forgotten as well.

The difference between then and now.

Another day, another morning with brisk sunshine has begun, just as it had sixteen years ago.  I have moved seven times in the last sixteen years, it’s as if I were a nomad, looking and searching for what I would call a home.  My hope is that home will someday be back where I belong, in New York City.

Right now, there’s a massive hurricane about to hit Florida and bring unfathomable damage to about seventeen million people.  Yet, there are the First Responders who are there and ready to give all they must protect and serve, just like they did sixteen years ago in New York City and Washington D. C.  and in a field in Pennsylvania.

Again, the sun will shine brightly on New York City, again, the names of the lost will be read aloud, and tears will be shed.  Except now, there are fewer first responders from that “Beautiful Tuesday Morning” still around.

The toxic air they were breathing have given them cancer, air that then EPA chief Christine Todd Whitman emphatically stated days after the towers collapsed were safe to breath.  Only in the eighteen months did she admit to lying about the air quality in lower Manhattan.

Now a health bill has passed and first responders will have their medical needs addressed, and hopefully will be taken care of.  But what remains is that we are losing these brave men and women at an alarming rate, their names being added to a wall of remembrance.

I wish I could be in New York City now so I could give them the kind of strength they gave then sixteen years ago.

Within the dead of winter.

Irish Night at Shea

It’s the dead of winter and yet all I want is for the baseball season to start.
I’m going through baseball withdrawal. Its clear cut and unmistakable, it begins with the final out of the World Series, and doesn’t end until mid February when all the teams begin the quest for the pennant.
However, with friends about to lose their homes, I can’t get too excited about some guy getting $161 million for chasing a ball around a field for 6 months out the year.
I chuckle to myself when I think of this; how much would Ruth or Gehrig be worth today?
Did Hank Aaron need steroids?
NO!
Did Sandy Koufax?
NO!
Did Roberto Clemente? (May he rest in peace.)
NO!
Aaron, Koufax and Clemente came from a time and place where they were expected to give their best and gave their best and then some. I bet none of these three men thought about using performance enhancement drugs.
The guys who are playing today are overpaid and have way too much time on their hands, which usually lead to someone getting trouble or killed. Think Plaxico Burress here, yes, I know, he’s a football player, to me, it’s the same difference. He gets paid to play on a field, and goes out for fun with a gun. How stupid can you be?
Whatever happened to playing for the love of the game?
I can think of the top of my head two people who played that way recently, Cal Ripken and George Brett, two classy guys who spent their entire careers with one team, which is unheard of nowadays, two men who played for the love of the game.
I strongly believe that is you use any illegal drug in any sport; you should be banned for life with all records achieved expunged and the banned person should forget about playing ever again.
Maybe then, the drug using ball player should get a job doing something constructive somewhere else, like cleaning up the rubble in Gaza.
Roberto Clemente died helping others, his plane, the one carrying aid to earthquake victims, went down south of Florida on New Years Eve 1972.
To me, Roberto Clemente is a shining example of what a ball player should be, caring, compassionate and more than willing to help those in need.
Ball players like Roberto Clemente hardly exist anymore.

15. 31. 343. 2,977

The Mets were in a penned hunt that like they are this year, there were in Pittsburgh for a series when it happened, and yet, it doesn’t seem like fifteen years that the New York skyline was darken by hate, and I often wonder about the babies that were born that day

Mike Piazza wore 31 for the Mets, and ten days after perhaps this nation’s darkest day and he came to bat and finally gave the City of New York a reason to smile again. This year he was inducted into the Baseball Hall of Fame. It might be me, but I think it was in part because his heroic home run that lead the Mets to victory against the Braves on September 21, 2001. Upon making his acceptance speech, with tears, he gratefully acknowledged those 343 brothers who run into the Towers and didn’t make it home.

Now fifteen years later, the Mets and Braves are playing baseball again, this time without the fear and uncertainty that prevailed fifteen years ago, again like fifteen seasons ago, the Mets are in the hunt for the postseason.

On November 14, 2015, I finally went to observation deck at One World Trade Center. I went by myself. As much as I was hesitant about going, I felt maybe I shouldn’t.  However, I’m glad I went. There was a beautiful blue sky with some clouds and magnificent view of the New York skyline. From the southeast corner, I could make out the footprint of the South Tower reflecting pool. It was the most upsetting part of the entire visit.

There are children who were born that Beautiful Tuesday Morning, they will never know what Twin Towers looked like while they were standing, which for me is heartbreakingly sad, they will only see them in history books and only know that they share their birth with what is perhaps the darkest day of this nation breaks my heart.

I would like to wish those kids a happy 15th birthday.

Not in this building, not on this day.

On February 2nd, I started a new job in Utica New York. The position is at the department of motor vehicles in the state building.
The building itself is a good forty year old and has several state agencies and at least one elected official in it.
It is also designed in the same way as the Twin Towers were, with the elevators in the center of it, and our offices are on the fifteenth floor. The view of downtown Utica and southern Utica are amazing on a clear day. Because of the design of the building is the reason why I cannot be there on Friday.
I can’t do it. It’s too upsetting to be in that building on the anniversary of that Beautiful Tuesday Morning. It’s been fourteen years and for some of us it will always be a painful day. As much as I have started a new journey back in Central New York, there will always be that deep seated feeling that I should be in Brooklyn. There isn’t the kind of hustle and bustle there is in New York City, there isn’t the same level of excitement here as in New York City either.
Yet, what I’ve found is that there isn’t really much here at all. I miss the drive and energy of New York City, the all night places to eat and that magnificent skyline.
Which brings me back to why I won’t be working on Friday; that amazing skyline filled with incredible buildings was irreparably damage beyond words on a Beautiful Tuesday Morning, and as much as I knew where I was working, and knew what the design of the building was like, I could not bring myself to be working on Friday September 11, 2015.
I requested the day off in early April and it was approved within hours.
I can’t be there.
Not in this building, not on that day.

Peace,

Michael

You can say goodbye now.

Finally, a day short of 2 years in Richmond Virginia, I’ll be leaving the area. I’ve been enrolled in a training program that will take place in Little Rock Arkansas. The evaluation would take a month with the training itself takes about for 3 to 4 months.
This will lead to a job by summer. I leave Richmond on the morning of January 21, 2015. I’ll be in transit for about six hours arriving in Little Rock midday. I finally get my wish, I get to leave this place.

I’ve already begun migrating my belongings into a storage unit, upon finishing up the training program, and securing employment, as well as housing, I will then begin the process of moving my belongings to my new home.
The point being that once the training done and job secured, I will finally be back in the Northeast which is where I really belong.
The job itself is with a government agency. The job placement is throughout the country and I had three choices, my choices were Andover Massachusetts, Buffalo New York, and finally, Philadelphia Pennsylvania. Philadelphia being my number one choice. It will be close enough to New York and family, whatever family that wants to see me.

Let’s keep a good thought that I make it through the training process secure the job and get back to Northeast. Now I just have to make it to Little Rock.

Michael

Define normal.

Photo taken July 5, 2013. Photo © 2013 Michael P. Judge. All Rights Reserved.

I was out Monday night and hanging with some people in Richmond. We were discussing the various topics of the day, the begging of the football season, the ending of the baseball season, Ray Rice and the likelihood of his new job as an elevator operator.

All of a sudden, I heard it, and I had not heard it in years; Pearl Jam’s cover of J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers song “Last Kiss”. It took me back thirteen years ago, after that Beautiful Tuesday Morning, many radio stations pulled from their playlist songs that might be considered insensitive at the point. Songs like “Daniel” by Elton John, or “Leaving On A Jet Plane” by Peter, Paul, and Mary. These songs weren’t banned, just pulled to be sensitive to those with PTSD, songs that could be triggers for PTSD.

For me “Last Kiss”, was one. It was a very long time, months in fact, before I felt comfortable listening to Pearl Jam’s version again. Hearing it again Monday night, brought it all back again. I felt almost normal in my surrounding again, trying to survive as best I could while looking for a new job, watching the seasons change, dealing with the pathetic, anemic way the Mets have been playing.

But there it was; Pearl Jam “Last Kiss”, and with it a flood of memories of a Beautiful Tuesday Morning.

So my question become this: define normal.

I’m still having trouble doing that myself.

 

Michael

Moving on up, over there, and why can’t have another piece of pizza?

Well, this has been interesting month. However, I saw this coming in June. I asked my boss what would happen if no federal budget in place on October 1, how badly would it affect our team?
As a contract management specialist, all I do is review contracts for payment for services rendered for supporting the military, I reconcile the figures and when they don’t’ match, I call the vendor and ask them, “Well, has the payment been process yet?”
That’s all I do. But if there’s no funding for the contracts and no work comes in what do we do?
TRAINING! Thank you so much John of Orange.
I finished every order that was on my desk by October 6. I was then faced with what to do next. But there were changes going on that had been in the works for months, federal budget or not, it was going to be in place, and soon.
There had been talk for some time about placing another Contract Management Support team at the Defense Logistics Agency in the Richmond site. The team has more or less selected in August, and there would be training upon training for them and some training for our team since a few of us didn’t have it when we started.
There was always the thought I might go to the new team. About four weeks ago I was asked if I was interested in join the new team, and I said sure without blinking and eye.
On October 17th, paperwork for my background check was sent in for review. On Thursday I informed I was approved to be on the new team starting on either October 30th, or November 1st. I will miss some of my current team members..

Some. . . But this means I would no longer be working directly under the boss that I’ve refer to as “Margret Thatcher”. Oh, thank you so much Office of Personal management!

In other news, I decided to stay in the same building, but move up to the 15th floor. Better view now as I now get the sun in the midday to late afternoon, early evening, with some awesome sunsets too. I finally have been able to get all my channels from Comcast, they gave me a deal for moving and keeping the service and now I have a landline. Now all I need is some furniture, maybe a bed, or a table.
Also, I’m now on track to be debt free by February 2015. Then I’ll be able to afford lots of pizzas. But until then, I have to limit my pizza consumption. HAHAHAHAHAHA! Now that’s really funny. So the rents going up, the cable bills going up, and I finally have been able to get a pair of new shoes after 4 and a half years.

My only question is this, how do you burn a macaroni salad?

Michael

O Canada!

I finally saw “Argo” Saturday night on HBO, and remember the true events like it was yesterday.  What blew me away was that our friends to the North, Canada, gave refuge to six embassy employees without question.  But this isn’t the first time Canada has stood by our side and I doubt it will be the last.

On that Beautiful Tuesday Morning 12 years ago, they open their airports and homes to our stranded citizens.  One of their smallest airports, Gander International Airport, hosted 39 airliners, totaling 6,122 passengers; and 473 crew members under Operation Yellow Ribbon.  For the first time in Canadian history, the airspace over Canada was shut down.  In total, 255 airplanes were sent to 17 different airports across the Canada.

Right or wrong, good or bad, Canada has stood by us.  I’ve been to Canada once, to see the Mets play against the Expos in 1992.  The people of Montreal could not have been nicer or friendlier to me.

I’m grateful to our friends from the Great White North, so, from the bottom of my heart, I say “Merci, merci beaucoup”.

Michael

I’ll take the cheesesteak please.

After over a year of working on the online course, I applied to the Susquehanna Association for the Blind and Visually Impaired for a position as a Closeout Contract Specialist.  There had been plans to add people to their Philadelphia site, however, that never materialized.

Almost 14 months later, AFTER I got a job in Richmond, I get an email from someone in their Philadelphia office, my resume fell into someone lap and lo and behold, they now positions available in the Philadelphia area and this person wanted to know if I was still interested

I said yes, I was.

That was Wednesday, on Friday I had the phone interview.

I accepted their offer and have a tentative start date of August 14th.

 

I’m moving to Philadelphia.

 

There’s part one of  your stunning news.

The second part of the stunning news is I’ll be in New York City for July Fourth weekend.  I requested July 5th off on May 15th after I looked at the calendar.

I’m going home for a long weekend, and moving closer to home for good.

 Anyone want rent a one bedroom with a balcony in Richmond Virginia starting in August?

 Have a safe July 4th.

 

Michael

Finally, it happened.

I’ve been out of work since January 26, 2007, when I moved from Brooklyn to live with my current wife in Florida.
It took a long time to learn some of the area, but not enough to be able to get a job.  Part of the problem was the lack of public transportation outside the main city of Tampa.
Along the lines of about three years now, I’ve been working with the Florida Division of Blind serves to secure employment, this lead to a number of online courses through the Department of Defense about federal procurement and its regulations.
After a number of attempts, I passed the first course, this lead to contacting a number of organizations that are involved with the DoD and federal procurement.
I then contacted the Virginia Industries for the Blind, after initial exchange of emails and information, a telephone interview took place on Tuesday. July 10 h.  After that came the background check that stated after Labor Day.   But the paperwork to fill out for the background check was almost fun.
I did say, ”Almost.”
I couldn’t believe how long the paperwork was for the background check, than it hit me, of course it’s long, this is the federal government!
The background check was completed just before thanksgiving; all that was left was to find a position.  There was a number, but the most promising was at the base at Ft. Lee, Virginia, still that wasn’t an absolute lock.
On Tuesday morning December 18, 2012 at 10:49 am I took a phone call which informed me that the position at Ft. Lee did not work out, and the Virginia Industries for the Blind informally offered a position at the site in Richmond, which I accepted.
As of this writing, the start date has not been finalized, but look like late January.

I will start the New Year, with a new job.

About time.

Michael

Baseball, Sandy, the Governor, the President, and Sammy.

Baseball, Sandy, the Governor, the President, and Sammy.

MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT AT THE END!

Baseball:
I know Detroit was flat, beating the Yankees took the wind out of their sails and I could see it form the lack of energy from them. But the Giants were overpowering from the get go and I was amazed at how chewed up the Tigers like they were animals themselves. The best part was that the Giants swept in four games, my God, that was amazing.

Sandy:
I saw it building about a week previous and knew it was going to be bad. Just how bad blew me away. I had a bad feeling about this storm, and after seeing the video of the Con Ed plant exploding I got scared for my friends on Brooklyn, Queens and Staten Island. I had a feeling Long Island would not be hit as bad, but the video of the fires at Breezy Point and the photo of the statue of the Blessed mother still standing after the houses burned down was shocking. My former landlord in Brooklyn was finally able to move back home on December 3rd.
I have not firsthand account of how bad the damage is in my childhood area of Garritsen Beach in Brooklyn, all I know is its bad, and it’ll be a long time before it gets better.

The Governor:
With all his money, Mitt Romney actually thought he couldn’t lose the election. Yet, it was his money that most likely did him in. How can you, in this day and age run for the office of President of the United States and not release all your relevant tax returns?
It staggers the mind that a person could be that out of touch with the American people who want transparency with their elected officials and think that he or she could win elected office. Also, if you’re the nominee for the office of President of the United States and fail to appear on “Late Night with David Letterman”, you’re gonna lose, big time.

The President:
The way that President Obama showed in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, the Affordable Healthcare Act, the intelligence he shows, the fact that on his watch, Osama bin Laden was killed. The “Cash for Clunkers” program; some of the many reasons President Obama was re-elected.
A friend of mine said she spoke to a vet who told her, President Obama has been the first President to actually help veterans.
That says volumes about the President and his understanding for the American people.

Sammy:
In September 2011, Sammy was diagnosed with a thyroid condition, in turn he stared to lose weight. Sammy had shown some spunk and energy the end of October and beginning of November.
But on November 13th, he barely moved from the towel on the kitchen floor, not even to drink from his water bowl or from his food dish.
After 4pm, he was taken to the vet, after checking him the vet stated he was near the end and he most likely won’t last much longer.
Having never euthanized a pet before, this was more traumatic that I thought it would be I knew he was ill, but didn’t know how bad he really was. The surge of energy he had at the end was amazing. Sadly, the last few weeks, he would be meowing day and night. I think it was his way of letting it be known his time was near.
Sammy was 16.

MAJOR ANNOUNCEMENT:
As I have mentioned in previous blogs, I have been involved in a program to gain employment. This has taken over 18 months, but I’m pleased to announce that on Friday, December 7th, my background check was ruled favorably.
The next step now is an internal review, but it appears that I might have a position of employment soon.
This would mean moving to a new place, a place cold, and with possible snow. I miss seeing snowfall, I miss cold weather.

Michael

I wish I could forget it. . .

I wish I could forget it.

After all this time, eleven years on, I wish I could forget that Beautiful Tuesday Morning, but I’ll never be able to, it’s seared into my heart and mind like a like a bad, sick, twisted horror movie. It’ll stay with me until I close my eyes for good to this world. The sad truth is that some people, included myself, still have trouble dealing this that horrific day. What saved me was that I unable to access a television until late in the day when I finally got home.
Yet, those who know me well know what a news junkie I am, and they would attest that fact that this was best for me. Seeing each tower collapse, live on national television, would have been too painful too accept. Maybe it was best I only heard the radio feed from New York. The idea that my city, my hometown, my country was under attack in my lifetime is beyond what I could ever fathom, and never dreamed could happen.
There are 343 of the bravest men I’ll never get to meet that I do my damnest to honor every single day. They gave all, and I’d gladly give my life if all of them could still be here. All I can hope for is that the NYPD, and the FDNY, will have my back when I’m walking around New York City. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t stop and think of Father Mychal F. Judge and Captain Timothy M. Stackpole, two of New York’s Bravest, and say a prayer for their families.

It’s the least I can do.

Michael

Working overtime?

In early June, I made a phone cell and get an email and this started a process, one that is still ongoing, but now it appears to be moving faster.  Thankfully it concerns a full time job near the northeast.  This position involves a state agency and the federal government, so the paperwork alone was daunting. One form was a 127 page .pdf file which I had go look up information I forgotten about for 32 years.

And the questions!  I was wondering if they were going to ask the name of the girl I had my first romantic kiss with or the name of my childhood pet.  It was that long and that involved.  After the questions, the hard part was getting to the local law enforcement office to get my fingerprints done.   Mind you, this was old school, ink; actual ink was used to scan my fingers as part of the background check.  They gave me two cards, good thing too; I used BLUE ink for the form not black as they required.  I then had to overnight the paperwork back.  Of course, the background check will take a while, either a week or a couple of months.  I did my best with the form, but some I know I didn’t have everything.  My last computer was replaced over a year ago so I lost some information since I no longer have that computer.

Now comes the waiting game and the antsy feeling of “Did I get the paperwork right?”  This should be interesting.  I haven’t worked since January 26, 2007.  I know people who haven’t worked for over a year almost two before they got a job.

 

So, let’s hope for the best.

“Hotter than James Brown hot”

The ac was dying a slow death, and had been for as long as I’ve been here, almost 6 years.
It started on Mother’s Day morning; all I did was open the master bedroom closet to get a shirt, a nice one, so I could look good when I went to see my mother in law.
But when I reached in to get a shirt, it was damp. The second one was also damp. I started thinking to myself, “What is this? Then I looked up, there was no ceiling in the master bedroom closet, almost all of the ceiling was gone.
Same problem a few years back, only this time we found the root cause on Wednesday morning. On Tuesday night there was this “thump, thump, thump” kind of sound, we shut off the ac, the sound stopped, turned the ac back on, the sound returned, and I know from the get-go what is was, the compressor finally went and died.
After the man, John, from Jamie’s Air Conditioning Company looked over the ac unit, I was informed that, indeed, the compression was shot and the best bet would be to replace the whole unit.
I know it but only got command decision authority Tuesday night form the other half, and since this was her mother’s condo, she had to go through her mother’s proxy, her older sister, who’s self-absorbed, self-centered behavior confirms to me that these people are clueless.
While the other half was at work, I emailed her and told her to get her pay stubs, her credit card bill, so we can walk into the bank, and try to get her a personal loan to pay for the new ac unit.
For the price of $3,200, we could have a new air conditioning unit. Well that was only going to be $3,200, why not.
For the next few days on Facebook my various status update were this:
“Today’s forecast: sunny, warm, slightly muggy with temperatures around 175 in the house.”
Then it became:
“Anyone want a broken air conditioning unit?”
Which turned into:
“Better yet, anyone got a spare $3,200 so I can get a new one?”
Along with a forecast:
“It’s 81 in da house with a wind chill of 175.”
Followed closely by:
“New a/c: $3,200.
Repair to damaged master bedroom closet: $325.
Agita from the mentioned mess: Priceless.”

The other half’s sister, got back to us that she would pay for it and that only took a full days’ worth of haggling with her to pay. So we didn’t need to go to the bank for a personal loan to pay for the new unit.
But the best part didn’t come until Friday. I was able to get hold of John from Jamie’s first thing Thursday morning; he was able to make us the first job Friday morning.
Wednesday was a tad cooler than normal with light drizzle; Thursday was close to unbearable, which lead to the aforementioned Facebook status updates.
Friday morning, came with the arrival shortly before 9 o’clock of the team from Jamie’s to replace the unit. That’s when the fun began, it seems when the other half and her mother moved in, the demanded a new unit, after review the main unit in the attic/crawlspace, it seems that unit was form 1986, when the condo was built, and the compressor was from 1999.
So it appears they were ripped off.
But the best part was the cause of the leak in the master bedroom closet. The drain line for the ac was never properly coupled together, and had been slowly draining water for years.
We were under the impression that there was a crack or leak somewhere, but it was never fused together properly. Then that explains the first ceiling collapse about four years ago.
It took almost five hours to replace the old unit with a new 2 ton Trane that will last long after we’ve left this place.
After I got the email that it was paid for by the other half’s sister, I let the crew know, they had just received the same information and promised that we would have a copy of the paperwork sent to us.
Just after 2 o’clock Friday afternoon I post this on Facebook:
“HOUSTON, WE HAVE AIR CONDITIONING!!”

We set it at 77 and left it.

I’m happy now.

Michael

What a nerve!

Early November I started to notice a tingling, burning sensation in my right hand along with a similar, but not a noticeable effect, in my left hand. Ice didn’t offer much help in giving me any relief. After my physical in December, I went back for the results in February and inquired about the pain in my hands
My doctor wrote a script for a cream that did help a little, but again, not much help. Finally, I saw a orthopedist, I was informed, that it might be carpal tunnel, but what was going on in my hands didn’t fit the standard definition of carpal tunnel. I then got to see a neurologist, who ran an EMG, which is when a current is run though the nerve to see how it react or for any damage.
That was Tuesday afternoon, after the test was done, which could replace water boarding for torture in my opinion, I was informed that I did not have carpal tunnel in either hand. No, it turns out that the nerve in my right arm is slowly dying due to the effects of diabetes; surgery was not an option for me and at some point I will lost some or all function in my right hand. But it also turns out the nerve in my right legs is slowly dying too. Now if that happens, how am I going to kick someone in the ass? There goes my dream of playing second base for the Mets.
At 51, I’m falling apart, but I plan on living long enough to see the Mets win another World Series and die making love to a 19 redheaded nurse.
I can dream can’t I?

Take only as directed.

When did it become in vogue to dismantle and demoralize woman? Is this were we as a nation are heading? This is not the path I want this country to be on. No woman should be disparaged for wanting access from reproductive options, not matter who’s paying for it.
In the almost 40 years since Roe V Wade made abortion legal, various groups have tried to turn the clock back. My question is this; how far back you want to go what the clock? 1970? 1900? 1840?
A woman right to reproductive options should be absolute; the reason there is a fight about it is, if I’m not mistaken, because of the changes that are to be made in the new health care law. But on very bright, articulate law student ticked off a loud, overbearing, and misogynistic radio personality. But the debate shouldn’t be about him, the debate should be about a woman’s access to birth control.
The fact that she wants birth control doesn’t make her a slut, or a prostitute. What is means is that she’s looking ager her own best interests and wellbeing. No man should ever be allowed to restrict that for any woman. It’s about choice, a woman’s choice for contraceptive and how she should choose it. As enlightened people we should rejoice and celebrate in the fact that any woman can get the pill from her doctor.
To deny a woman access to the pill demeans them, and that should never be justified, ever. Apparently, this radio personality has no clue how the pill works. You don’t take it every time you have sex, you take it in a cycle in accordance with a woman’s menstrual cycle. It’s not like an erectile dysfunction drug, where you have to take it every time you have sex. The pill doesn’t work like that. Some basics in reproduction might be in order for this individual. Then again, he’s been married four times, he should know by now, should he?

Michael

Your death is a great career move!

Whitney Houston died on February 11, 2012, yet as shocking as is, it will be a great career move. The sales of her recordings will in cream dramatically, which will be seen as a great career move.
She’ll be remembered for her incredible voice, and sadly for her personal battles with drugs and alcohol as well as her stormy marriage to Bobby Brown. It doesn’t matter now that she made great music, what everyone will remember is how she died, alone in a bathroom.
When her album “Whitney” was released in 1987, I word working in the record department of Crazy Eddies in Nanuet, New York. When one of the senior managers came in the day I went off on him, letting him know that the shipment of the album had not arrive and that at least 12 came in looking for it. In no uncertain terms, I told him to “. . . find the truck”.
25 minutes later the truck arrived.
Many people will remember Whitney Houston, but will anyone remember Karol Ann Keaslter? Her remains were finally identified by the New York City Medical Examiner’s office the Thursday before Whitney died. Ms. Keaslter is the 1633rd person to have been identified. Maybe now her family will be able to lay her to rest.

I wonder if anyone will notice.

Time heals all wounds or do we forget?

“The reason we were attacked, the reason these people are dead, these people are missing and dead … They weren’t doing anything wrong, they were living their lives, they were going to work, they were traveling, they were doing what they normally do. Uh, as I understand it—and my understanding of this is vague, at best—another smaller group of people stole some airplanes and crashed them into buildings. And we’re told that they were zealots fueled by religious fervor, religious fervor. And if you live to be a thousand years old, will that make any sense to you? Will that make any goddamned sense?”
David Letterman. September 17, 2001.

Time heals all wounds or do we forget?

It was just another Tuesday morning as my partner and I had settled into her office. Usually, I would have remained at home and watch a little television or checked my email before heading to campus to my first class, but decided to go in early with her.
Then, as it sometimes does, evil rears its ugly head to spit and spew its’ arrogance and diluted anger without warning. As I sat in my then wife’s office, one of her coworkers came in and said; “Did you hear; a plane hit to twin towers?” Yet, from the way she said it, it seemed like a set up for a punch line of a joke, or a joke itself, a rather sick at that.
By the time a computer could be booted; there was no Internet service, there was no way to get online. I was unable to get any information, then I realized that there was a television at the journalism school I had graduated from, I went there and found my former adviser almost in tears. Unable to see the screen but hear the audio, I knew it was bad.
I went back to my partners’ office and listened to the radio, which by this time was picking up the New York radio feed unedited and unfiltered, I was okay until I hear a reporter say; “Yes . . . yes, the second tower has collapsed, the twin towers are no more.” That’s where I fainted.
It wasn’t until I finally got home and was able to sit in front of the television I saw and understood the carnage that had taken place. What shocked me was the crawl at the bottom of my television screen, “Among the confirmed dead, Father Michael Judge.” I never knew who Father Judge was until that day, but it was upsetting seeing your own name on television stating you were dead. Yet, I never met the man, but would come to find what a kind compassionate soul Father Judge was.
From that afternoon on, normalcy would take a back seat for a long time. Getting anywhere was pure hell of a lot of people. Still there was a noticeable change, people seemed more on edge, and there was a look of unspeakable fear in everyone’s eye. I wasn’t sure who I could trust anymore. It took a long time for me, many months in fact, to finally get over that feeling, and when I finally moved back to New York, I made a point of going to the WTC site, it was and is still upsetting that what took years to build and construct come collapse in mere seconds.
It’s been ten years, and I am left with a great sense that New York City, which suffered so much on that tragic day, will always be a beacon of promise to all who visit it. So I encourage as many of you as possible to visit New York City, the greatest city in the world.
Sadly some have left, the wounds too enormous to heal, too daunting to overcome. I was born in Brooklyn and when the time comes I will spend my remaining years there. Without a doubt, there’s this rhythm, this beat, this amazing heart to the collective that is New York, one that cannot be beaten or destroyed. There is a real heart to New York, it breathes, lives and it is unstoppable.
Good or bad, there is no other city in the world like New York City.
So I ask for those who go to New York City to do me a favor, make a point of going to the northwest corner of Liberty and West Streets and leave a white lily.
Once you arrive there, you’ll understand.

Breathe deep the gathering gloom, and try not to cough.

I’ve been having breathing concerns for some time now. With my last visit to my regular physician, I was referred to a pulmonary physician.
I called and made the appointment for tomorrow August 24. I downloaded the electronic form, filled it out and was ready to print it out when I got up tomorrow.
But we never went food shopping Saturday or Sunday, so we went the morning and when I got back there was a message from the pulmonary doctor’s office. They had the wrong disc and wanted me to get either the right disc or a new chest x-ray.

TODAY!

When I called, the rep told me *SHE* picked up the wrong disc and *I* had to get the right one.
After yelling at her, I slammed the phone down on her. However, she calls me back and says “I think we were disconnected” I shouted back, “WE WEREN’T DISCONNECTED, I HUNG UP!” and hung up a second time. The third time Ellen took the called and chewed them out.
I called my doctor’s office back and told . . . told, HA! Yelled what has just happened to the voice mail.
A screw up on a doctor’s office’s part negates an emergency on my part. I call the second number my doctor’s office gave me. They assured me they will have the right disc, film’s, paperwork whatever they need when I show up.

Maybe I’ll be able to breathe a little easier later today

Michael

Soneone turn on the debt ceiling fan!

There is a reason it’s called entitlement programs.
Why? Because those people who have paid into it, are entitled to their money. Yet, there are people in the Beltway that think that these people aren’t entitled to their money. These people are called republicans; these are sad, lonely people have blinders on and believe they are the only ones who can save this nation. However, these people are the ones that are destroying the nation.
How? They claim that taxing the rich will impede job creation, but if these rich people have money, then why aren’t they creating jobs NOW? It’s this falsehood they, the republicans have created, that just the idea of taxing the rich alone will kill job growth.
PLEASE!
All I know is that people who are dependent on Social Security are always the first to be threatened with cuts, not the rich, yet they are the ones who will suffer the most. Screw the rich; let them pay more in taxes.
If I’m making $10 million, than let the tax man that a share, say, $2 million. What, I can’t live well on the other $8 million? Spare me.
The rich people have had it good for too long, and have used as many loopholes ass possible to keep their money. I say it high time they give more than fair share and the republicans
It is the working class and the poor in this country that have paid the most in taxes. Any jobs creation bill begins in, get this, THE HOUSE and yet the Speaker (weeper) of the House has yet to put forth ANY job creating bill.
It isn’t the over taxing rich or the taxing the poor even further, its’ the republicans failing, and failing miserably I might add, at doing what’s right; creating a new job base and adding to the existing tax rolls.
If I wasn’t anger enough as it is, I’m more anger now with every passing day these no raise on the debt ceiling. If they can’t raise the debt ceiling, they, the republicans, will truly destroy this nation.
If that happens, God help then when they come up for re-election.

Michael

The destruction of the United States of America from within.

This country is being destroyed, not by Republicans, nor Democrats, but by narrow minded people who disregard federal and state laws to suite their own sense of self-worth, and these people should be called Nazi’s, as they act like one.
About a year ago they told a Medal of Honor recipient that he could not put up an American flag on his property. It took The Office of the President of the United States to inform the president of the Home Owners Association exactly how wrong he was and how the full force of the United States government would bear down upon if the retired soldier was not allow to put up a flag on his property.
Then you have an Home Owners Association telling at mute paralyzed vet that the organization that wanted to build and give him an accessible home they could not, for some vague reasons, these people are Nazi’s and they are slowly killing this nation.
Do yourself a favor; don’t ever buy a condo or townhouse that has a Home Owners Association to it.
Either rent a house or rent to own a house. Just don’t ever get a condo or townhouse.
It is the foundation that this nation was founded upon that they want to destroy, the “pursuit of happiness”. It is the fundamental truth that every man woman and child should have a roof over their heads and a food in their stomachs. These power hungry, rude, arrogant Nazi type people who apparently do not have a life, do their best to inflict their grandiose ideology on how their little “paradise” should be. God forbid you complain! You get letters letting you know your know in compliance with the “LAWS” of the Home Owners Association, even though most of them have no clue about emerging technology like WIFI or satellite dishes and F. C. C. rules, where are federal regulations, how many one can have. One homeowner sued over the lack of ADA compliance, and the Home Owners Association attempted to claim that since the building were made before ADA was enacted it was exempt.
Wrong the federal Judge told the lawyer for the Home Owners Association who were told to pay the home owner court cost and the amount the home owner wanted, about $175,000 as well as the punitive award of over $2.5 million dollars. The Home Owners Association then tried to file for bankruptcy, the bankruptcy judge was almost breathing fire when he was told by the home owners lawyer that the Home Owners Association was attempting to skirt the judgment with the bankruptcy.
His honor, told the lawyer for the Home Owners Association that not only would he void the bankruptcy, he would freeze the assets of the board members of the Home Owners Association.
Home Owners Associations happen to be the devil and the greatest threat of the United States of America, not Al Qaeda.

Can you tell I’m in touch with my anger?

Peace,

Michael

Coda’s.

There have been some losses over the weekend.
Most notable was the loss of Clarence Clemons, the larger than life saxophonist of the E Street Band. Not only was a member of the band, he worked with many other artists from Aretha Franklin to Lady Gaga. His talent was as large as his persona. I mentioned this a few times before, but after more than 35 years, the sax solo on “Jungleland” still blows me away.
The other was on not mentioned far and wide. A man who was involved with helping over 1,000 Jews survive WWII and was a prisoner of Plaszow concentration camp.
Mietek Pempoer died at 91 on June 7th. It was his defiance to a Nazi concentration camp commander that led him to create Oskar Schindler list. That list saved over 1,000 Jews from the death camps.
There is evil everywhere, yet strong men and women find the strength to overcome the hate and suffering to carry on, to fight tyranny and oppression everyday
It is that resolve that builds a people and a nation. Mietek Pempoer was a small cog in a larger framework that fought injustice and oppression. Now he’s gone to his final rest.
May Clarence Clemons and Mietek Pempoer both rest in peace in God’s loving embrace.

On a happier note, my niece is due any day now. She’s expecting a boy.
I’ll have more on her and the baby when I have further word.
Now I have a new laptop, a faster updated beast.
Here’s the fun part, if anyone would like to help me name the new laptop, please drop me a comment or an email. I know it’s a Dell, but I want to give it a name besides “the beast.”

Peace,

Michael

He’s right up there in “The Balcony.”

My parents were avid readers, when I was a kid growing up in New York; we got the New York Daily News, sometimes the New York Times and after the 1963 newspaper strike, the Herald-Tribune before that paper ceased publication in 1966. Both my parents were proud Irish Americans who believed anything was possible in America.
That’s why Mom would read to us and encourage us to read, read as much as possible, and absorb all the world’s knowledge.
I liked the New York Daily News, still do in fact. The best sports section in New York. One of the reasons was Bill Gallo.
His artwork, can they be just called cartoons, if it seems like art? Anyway, it was his artwork that drew me to the sports section first when I was young.
With his art and the words, he gave me a great gift. Bill Gallo taught me how to read. Also, Bill Gallo used his own gift to give me an understanding to the sports world around me.

Of all his creations, I always had a fondness for Basement Bertha. She seems to have loved the Mets and baseball as much as I did. Bill Gallo taught me about boxing and horse racing as well as baseball.
Bill Gallo along with Pete Hamill, Kay Gardella, Jimmy Berslin, and Dick Young opened my eyes to the world around me and will never be able to thank them enough for exposing me to the value of the written word.
Like my father, Bill Gallo was a veteran of WWII. Bill Gallo served as a Marine, and he was at Iwo Jima when the US over took it.
His columns about his experiences in battle during WWII gave me an even deeper appreciation for our armed forces, an appreciation that will never falter.
Bill Gallo was the last of a dying breed, a sport cartoonist. The Sunday edition of the New York Daily News will seem a little emptier now without his wit and wisdom and humor. For that, we all are that much poorer.
In the last 15-20 years, when a major sports figure would pass on, he was draw them in what he called “The Balcony”, a kind of sports Heaven if you may, He’s there now with his parents, loved ones and his friends that have been waiting for him.
May Bill Gallo rest peacefully in Gods loving embrace.
Now all you fathers go play catch with you kids.
Two last words for the fallen WWII Marine: Semper Fi.