The Newell Post

I originally wrote this entry on February 12, 2016. However, it seemed appropriate for a re-posting today as my family in New York awaits a blizzard and over a foot of snow on its way to the north east. It reminds me what I left behind and which I desperately miss. Of course I don’t miss the snow only my family and doggies sitting around the fire. And don’t get me going about our beautiful grandson, EJ, and how much we would love to be with him.

So, back to the past however frigid it may have been.

When I went out to start the car today at 5:45 AM I was greeted with a blast of frigid air. I started thinking about why people chose to live here, East Quogue, New York or the northeast, in the first place?

I mean why would you stay here after that first winter? Surely our indigenous peoples had better options. They crossed the land/ice bridge to get the hell out of Siberia, why didn’t they continue south? Well, of course, some did and maybe others did settle in more temperate climes but were asked to leave by the new arrivals of the fifteenth century.

These new settlers had options, however, and chose to put up with the cold.

I then started thinking about how they dealt with such harsh weather. I am complaining about having to leave a centrally heated home to start a car that would soon be toasty enough to take me to my equally toasty train (I am not going to write about cracked rails or frozen subway switches). I also didn’t have to kill anything to get my coat from Lands End.

Nevertheless, I am not going to go the way of the Iroquois or the people of the Mayflower Compact. I mean to follow the sun, find me a beach, and bang my drum all day at a Tiki Bar.

Happy Friday everyone!

Here we are on the precipice of another year, getting deeper into what we once called “the New Century”.

New Years Eve often has me looking backward rather than to what the new year may hold in store. I rarely limit this act of nostalgia to the immediate year about to expire and frequently look back twenty or more years in the past.

The first New Years Eve I can recall was December 31, 1956. I was six years old and allowed to stay up past midnight and even to welcome the new year outside our apartment building at 1261 Leland Avenue in the Beautiful Bronx.

Like most of my friends, I had purchased the traditional  tin noise makers to scare off the demons of 1956. Consisting of a horn that sounded more like a duck call and a contraption resembling a frying pan equipped with a clanger, a racket was sure to be made by all.

Perhaps the most nostalgic thing about that night wasn’t just the fact that a kid of six years old could be out on the street at midnight but that all the doors to the apartments in my building were opened. They weren’t just unlocked, they were fully opened allowing the tenants to apartment hop unrestrained by doors or locks. Running up to the top floor to see Mrs. Savino and then one floor down to see the Destefanos and onto my second floor to see the Rooneys and Davidsons just seemed like a normal day in the life of Jimmy Newell, age six.

The only thing different about this night and the Fourth of July was that all the residents of 1261 were partying indoors rather than in front of the building. I don’t remember if it was cold, I guess it was seasonable as it was not memorable. Surely, there was no snow and the lot next door had yet to have a single Christmas tree placed there to be set afire as that was what was done to discarded Christmas trees.

There’s much  that I miss about that time. The people especially. You try to keep their memory and joy for life alive but you can’t go through New Years Eve without missing those loved ones who are no longer with you to kiss and hug.

So tonight, make sure you are with someone who you can kiss and certainly give them a big hug and make this night as memorable  and sacred as December 31, 1956 is for me.

Of course, I have had many memorable and sacred New Years eves and tonight will be no exception. Even if you are not present with all your loved ones, you can be sure that they are thinking of you just as you are of them. Whether in the Bronx or on Long Island or in Florida, I will be with all my loved ones tonight and they will be wishing me a Happy New Year.

I wish the same to you and your family and the people who are your loved ones.

Happy New Year

Here we are again celebrating another Merry Christmas.

For me, it never gets old and, even though we may all get nostalgic and feel the loss of loved ones more acutely during the Christmas season, I still feel their love and, perhaps, that is the greatest gift I receive each year.

Our children arrived yesterday and there is not another thing I need under my  tree.

I am sure you all feel the same.

If you are surrounded by your loved ones and the memory of your loved ones, there is no greater gift that you can receive. Christmas is about love and what could make us more merry than that?

Merry Christmas everybody!

I am not sure if today’s anniversary of the attack on Pearl Harbor is as important a day as it used to be. It certainly should be.

The fall of civilization was ultimately prevented because Japan sucker punched us into World War II. As we were in World War I, the Great War, we were late to the dance but helped the Allied powers to defeat Germany and Japan and, thereby, save civilization.

Back on the eve of Pearl Harbor this country was looking to keep out of foreign entanglements and make America First. Ironically, the war and aftermath achieved the very goal that the Isolationists desired. America was, indeed, first and would be the leader of the free world in its quest to defend Civilization.

As colleges are under siege to educate students to enter the business world, History and the liberal arts have become the step child of academia. That’s something to consider today as we try to remember our past and the brave men and women who helped secure our future.

I am guessing that before anyone reads this entry of The Newell Post another high profile man will be accused of sexual assault/harassment.

There was a time, when I was not working in higher education, that I worked for a guy who used to love using a quote from another moron. He would proclaim proudly, “I live by the Golden Rule, I have the gold and I make the rules.”

I used to laugh to myself ( I needed the paycheck so I didn’t laugh out loud) every time he said it. The sad truth was that he lived his life in this belief. Evidently he is not the only man to do so.

That is what all these men accused of sex crimes share. They are under the mistaken belief that they operate on another plane, above all morality and decency, from the rest of us. In their world there are no rules that they obey unless they are of their making.

These deviants use their position and power and celebrity to coerce women and abuse women because they can. They see someone they want to dominate and maybe humiliate—-put them in their place so to speak—and they act accordingly.

There are of course, hundreds and hundreds of other shoes about to drop and it’s not only Hollywood and Washington that fear the fall. Anywhere there are men of power working with women in a male dominated environment there have been abuses of that power at the detriment of women.

It is hoped that these men who have hurt women are approaching their day of reckoning even if it hurts the organization in which they operate.

Roy Moore and Al Franken should teach us something we may have lost sight of. Neither represent the proclaimed values of the political party to which  they belong. Going after these men is indeed not a witch hunt. It is, however, an exorcism to cast out evil no matter where it exists.

This disease is not limited to any political party, religion, or event to the United States but it is time that it be eradicated here now.

Let’s hope we get this fixed and soon.

I was born on June 23, 1950. At those times when I want to feel older I consider that I must have been conceived sometime in September of 1949. Admittedly, at no time do I wish to feel older.

Nevertheless, we all have thoughts that we don’t want to have, and more importantly, thoughts we shouldn’t have.

A guy cuts you off on the highway and you feel snubbed and disrespected. A normal reaction you might say. But what good is it to brood about this apparent social faux pas and, is it worth speeding up in a frenzy of road rage?

A wise person would respond to such an affront by blowing kisses at the perpetrator.  A good friend of mine with whom I used to commute into the Bronx when I was teaching advised just that. I can’t say that I followed his advice all the time but I did try.

The lesson that my friend tried to convey was that we have control over our thoughts. We can control our response to any given situation.

We can opt for happiness in lieu of anger and frustration.

I have limited my activity on Facebook. This is one step for me to try to take control of my thoughts.

I loved the ability of catching up with friends and family who reside in distant parts of the U.S. Some across the sea. But during our most recent Presidential election I saw the meanness of Facebook emerge and I made an effort to visit on a less frequent basis.

Now, I have taken to write about Trump and I am sure I contributed to the same meanness that I describe but I didn’t resort to the vitriol that I  have witnessed.

I am sure some of it was begun by Russian trolls and somehow shared to my page. On one occasion there was a report that Hillary Clinton had four abortions before she gave birth to Chelsea. This was the straw as they say.

Such a despicable lie spread, not to win an election, but to inspire hatred for a woman drove me off the grid.

Back in the days when I was conceived and born you could disagree with your opponents. You didn’t have to be afraid of being hated by anyone who shared a different opinion.

Today’s political leaders lack imagination.

Neither Democrats nor Republicans ever have the fleeting thought that they may be wrong or that the other side may have a valid point.

You can’t compromise with someone you deem incapable of being right.

You can’t work with anybody you can’t meet halfway on an issue.

It can’t always be all or nothing, unless you’re happy with nothing.

The poor excuse we have for our national government is once again trying to fix the problems associated with Obamacare by destroying it at any cost. Well, not just any cost. The cost will be the lost benefits by our nations poorest.

That would be bad enough if Congress had the integrity to put forth their plan in the light of day and have it subjected to the scrutiny that a bill affecting one sixth of our economy deserves.

I am really surprised that Congress refuses to hold hearings and present evidence that will hold up to close inspection. I mean, look at what they did during that terrible epidemic affecting baseball.

These legislative loons were more concerned with exposing the use of steroids by baseball players than they seem to be interested in holding hearings on health insurance.

Wouldn’t you just love to hear some of the witnesses  confess that they didn’t want to talk about the Republican health plan just like some of the baseball players avoided talking about steroids? Back a few years ago Congress was more interested in “fixing” the problem of steroids than say, fixing the tax code or infrastructure.

Now, Congress wants to “fix” health care but doesn’t want anyone to know just how they plan to do it or how their plan will really work and who will be the winners and who will lose.

Look, I’ll accept that Obamacare needs fixing (but I would like to hear just exactly how, with evidence and proof, Obamacare is failing) and it might be a good idea to put forth a plan to do so but the Republicans are too interested in scrapping Obamacare just as they would love to scrap Social Security because both are Democrat inventions.

I think the first way to cut the cost of health care is to make the Secretary of Health pay for his own transportation.

I subscribe to the Republican notion that our federal government is too big. Unlike Republicans, however, I have the cure.

The next hypocrite, who happens to earn a paycheck, as well as a hefty health insurance package and argues for a reduction in big government, should resign and reduce the size of government by one.

Paul Ryan and Rand Paul should be the first to go. Then, the Donald. Mike Pence? Yeah, let him and Lindsay Graham fight to get out the door first. All these so called small government lovers should live up to their convictions and make government smaller.

Let them return to the market place on which they so confidently rely to take care of the poor and those lacking health insurance.

On another note, if Trump is so hot to get into a fight, how about he orders an invasion of   Texas, Florida, and Puerto Rico?

Much of these states and Commonwealth are war zones in need of massive relief and rebuilding. How about we just wage war on the wastelands created by Harvey, Irma, and Maria rather than looking to inflict a man made wasteland on North Korea?

Just ask the survivors of Katrina and Sandy if our government is too big. I’m thinking they would have preferred an increase in government spending in order to recover the devastation they endured. With the three new states and Commonwealth in such dire straits, is it reasonable to cut the tax liability of those who can afford to help bail out these people?

No living person should be small enough to fail, too small to bail out regardless of how big a government is acceptable to you.

When your house is on fire you’re not going to quibble about tax rates.

Here I sit in Bradenton, Florida, the Gateway to Armageddon.

In about 24 hours a Category 17 hurricane will huff and puff and blow my house in.

I hope that’s hyperbole!

It’s gotten so that I have been watching our local weather broadcast more than MSNBC’s coverage of Trump and Russia. Somehow, approaching doom of any sort becomes addictive.

Eileen and I were next door putting up shutters for my neighbor/friend and we didn’t have our phones. We came back from shutter installation to find ten voice messages and an equal amount of texts. It’s getting too much to comfort our friends and family.

We say the right things to put them at ease but the reality is we are scared shit.

You’d be a moron if you weren’t.

Now, I think we’ll be safe and, hopefully, the only things we lose will be property. I don’t think we will have flooding as our area has not even been coded. We were told not to evacuate as, because we are above  the flood plain, we would not be eligible for a shelter.  Of course, these things can all be re-defined after a disaster like Irma seems to promise.

Other good news in our favor is that our home is built to the new Florida building code which requires concrete block construction as opposed to a wood frame. We should be safe from the severe winds of Irma. But, when you spend the last two days putting up metal shutters on all your windows, you begin to see the point of what we are hearing from our weather broadcasts.

Our plan is to hunker down and prepare a safe room. Stock it with food and water and hope we are over-prepared and over-reacting.

I truly believe this will not be the last entry in the Newell Post. But I’m not sure that is a comfort to you?

No it’s not what you think! And, by the way, that’s disgusting!

I just got my results from AncestryDNA and I have come to the conclusion that we should demand a DNA test for any candidate for public office. Much more revealing than a doctored tax return and the candidate might be enlightened by the process.

I was.

For the most part, my results were not unexpected.

My ethnicity estimate was as follows:

77% Ireland

21% Great Britain

2% Other Regions.

It’s this last category that I found the most fascinating.

Of the 2%, less than 2% represented Scandinavia. Considering the Vikings pillaged and settled in Ireland, I was not surprised at this result.

However, less than 1% (but it is there nonetheless), represents South Asia. AncestryDNA provides a map highlighting the relevant regions and South Asia includes Pakistan, India,   Nepal, Bhutan, Sri Lanka, and Myanmar. I never saw that coming.

Of course, it should not have surprised me as we all know where human life originated and, much as I hate to admit it, it didn’t all start on Leland Avenue in the Bronx.

This experience has given me a global outlook to life that I have to admit I had resisted. I mean, I’m having a hard enough time to deal with Floridians and now I have a whole new world of potential family members to learn about. It’s making me appreciate the Floridians as they, too, might be in my DNA soup.

And, of course, if we go back far enough, you and I are related.

Is that Melanie singing Beautiful People in the background?