ChasNar

A tribute to My brother Girard A. Nardone

2009-02-18T07:58:00.003-05:00

Girard A. Nardone
Westerly - Girard A. Nardone, the former Chief Laboratory Technologist at
Westerly Hospital and lifelong Westerly resident, died Sunday Feb. 8, 2009, at
home surrounded by family. He was 84.
Mr. Nardone, the son of the late Sabino and Mary Columbia Genzale Nardone,
was passionate about the medical field at a young age. After graduating from
Westerly High School in 1942, he went on to Providence College to study premed.
His college career was interrupted so he could serve in the US Army as a
medical technician during World War II. Mr. Nardone returned to Providence
College after the war. During his college years, he also met his wife of 58
years, M. Agnes O'Neill Nardone of Westerly.
Mr. Nardone graduated from college in 1947, and went on to become Chief
Laboratory Technologist at Westerly Hospital, overseeing the hospital
laboratory, phlebotomy, and blood bank operations. He held this position for 35 years until he
retired in 1983. Mr. Nardone was also a member of the Westerly Hospital Management Team since
its inception and a member of many hospital committees.
Mr. Nardone loved the water, boating and fishing, and was a member of the Westerly Yacht Club.
He enjoyed going clamming and made the best stuffed clams for family parties. He was a big golfer
and listened to the news every morning when he got up. He also enjoyed listening to Frank Sinatra
and Harry Belafonte. In his later years, Mr. Nardone enjoyed taking rides by the beach.
Besides his wife, Mr. Nardone leaves three daughters, Susan Nardone, wife of Richard Augusto of
Sharon, Mass., Tracey Files, wife of Judson Files, of Mystic and Jane Trubia of Westerly, R.I.; four
grandchildren, Alex and Kelsey Trubia and Kate and Lauren Augusto; two brothers, Arthur, husband
of Jean, and Charles, husband of Nelda, both of Pawcatuck; one sister, Angela Wardman, wife of
Jonathan Wardman, of Pawcatuck; a brother-in-law, Arthur O'Neill of Pawcatuck and a sister-in-law,
Esther O'Neill, of Pawcatuck.
Mr. Nardone is also predeceased by another sister-in-law and dear friend, Sister Eleanor O'Neill.
Calling hours will be held from 4 to 6 p.m. on Wednesday at Gaffney-Dolan Funeral Home, 59
Spruce St., Westerly. A funeral mass will be said at 10 a.m. Thursday at Immaculate Conception on
High St., Westerly.

Girard's daughter Susan Nardone wrote a glowing Eulogy which she read at the Funeral Mass which was held at the Immaculate Conception Church in Westerly, Rhode Island, and it is as follows:
He always wore his white lab coat
and, though he seemed important, he would always stop to show me or Tracey
or Janie something about his work, something about the test tubes, and
vials, and sterile needles. We were so proud of him. We were always
welcome, Girard’s kids. Dad was a sensitive family man, an ardent
sportsman, a lover of reading, a lover of focused, solitary activities. We
often joined him though. Janie told me just the other day about how he
invited her and her sketch pad on one of his morning boating and fishing
trips to Quonny pond. He made her a thermos of hot chocolate. He fished,
she sketched,. She was just five. In the last few years, dad's favorite
activity was to ride by the beach, all the while commenting on the sunny
skies, the blue water, the summery day, and my skillful driving. You, he
would say, are a great driver. You are a perfect driver. He was humble to the core;
a character trait that I think is more precious than all others. He
accomplished so much in his life, as young man drawn fascinated by the
mysteries of science, the big brother of Charlie, and Arthur, and Dolly.
And, as a young adult who led the laboratory at the Westerly Hospital to a
highly respected place in the community. He was the kind of boss who
helped those around him to achieve their potential. Family time was most
precious during our vacations. He investigated, and found Papoose Pond, a
special place that we still go to, as far as we're concerned, he
discovered Provincetowna magical land for our young sensibilities, a
memorable place to walk around. He took us to Vermont to stay in a
beautiful, woodsy lodge, to try skiing on a mountain where dad would teach
us how to snow plow. Bend your knees, put the tips of the skis together,
now, push! Dad loved his grandchildren, often repeating their
misinterpretations of life. --One of the most memorable being Lauren's description of the three wise men as the three wise guys. He talked of them with pride and affection: Alex has a smile that lights up the whole world. The girls: Kelsey, Lauren,
Katie: talented, loving, beautiful inside and out. He loved and honored my
mom, his wife Agnes, with a tenderness that seemed to grow. Of all the
names he couldn't recall--he never, ever forgot hers. I couldn't even think
about talking about dad without mentioning his cooking skills. Long before
the barefoot Contessa or Rachael Ray, my dad would sit and watch Julia
Child on a Saturday afternoon, picking up subtle details to refine his own
fantastic cooking. Not that I always liked his experiments as a child, I
remember tentatively tasting his pungent baked bluefish with sliced
tomatoes, or the fried mussels that he'd pulled that morning from
Charlestown pond. Who could forget his homemade pizza on Sunday nights or
his baked, stuffed lobster? He was the cook in our family in more ways
than one, bringing together the sometimes colliding, nonsensical, loving, nurturing
elements that make up a family and serving us the very best that life has
to offer: affection, love, listening. His faith in God shined through,
more evident in later years, his belief that he was and is being taken
care of and that he is loved by his family and God. We were with him in
the last moments, and are with him now, a gift from God to us and to dad. – Authored and read by Susan Nardone at the Immaculate Conception Church on February 12, 2009. It is ironic that I am publishing this on February 18, 2009, exactly 30 years from the day that our father, Sabino Nardone, passed away. I will be writing more in this blog from time to time. I hope that you have found something fulfilling from reading this blog.Sincerely,
Charles A. Nardone

New Year Resolutions: To be or Not to be

2006-12-31T16:31:00.000-05:00

New Year’s Resolution – To Be or Not to Be
January 1, 2007

On December 30, 2006 I drafted an excellent article that I was going to post to my Blog. I took great pains to write it as objectively as possible – it was not just good, it was excellent – a Classic. Unfortunately, when I clicked on “publish”, I got an error message, and the entire article was lost. I could not recover it, and I’m having trouble recovering from that loss. But, if you care to bear with me, I will try to recollect the wisdom of that article and save it to a document that I can preserve, and then post it to this blog.

I have toyed with making resolutions on the beginning of each new year probably as long as I can remember. At age 73, soon to be 74, that has been, for me, a daunting endeavor. Practically speaking, resolutions have a duration of a few weeks, and sometimes go for as long as a few months. Is it good or not-so-good to make a resolution – that is the question. Personally, I see no harm in it, I believe it is totally beneficial.

All resolutions are to benefit and/or improve ones-self. Some people may disagree with the concept of making resolutions (that will probably be broken) by saying that after you have “broken” the resolution, you can just add that failure to your other failures. Not so! If we are to better ourselves, we must perpetually make such resolutions. With the opportunity afforded by the beginning of a new calendar year, we can in theory begin a new life for ourselves. It is purely a psychological thing.

I was brought up Catholic and I attended a Catholic elementary school. We were required, usually, to go to confession every Friday during the school year. In those years we were required to tell our “sins” to a priest and ask for forgiveness. It was a daunting experience and one designed to make us examine our conscience and refresh our memory of the things that we had done wrong since our last confession. The benefit was that we were taught (and convinced) that when we walked out of the confessional our souls were as pure as the wind driven snow. We were starting out, at that point, with a brand new fresh soul which we could keep pure or mess up at will. No doubt about it, that snow white soul did not last long, but I remember all too well how refreshing it was to walk out of the confessional knowing that I had a fresh new start on life. There was a lot of embarrassment before going into the confessional, and also while we were in the confessional. This is good. There is no gain without some pain. Unfortunately, today, the Catholic church no longer requires telling one’s sins to a priest – now you simply “reconcile” with God by meditating and being sorry for the sins you have committed. Personally, I don’t think that that arrangement “cuts it” at all. In fact, I believe that the elimination of “confession” in the true sense, that is, confessing your sins to a priest (and bearing the embarrassment), has been one of the chief causes for the Catholic Church to go downhill in attendance, membership and devotion.

One of my resolutions this year is to be more attentive to furnishing articles to my blog. I have been admonished by a number of people because I have not published more articles. In response to those people, especially Steve Pasetti, my Connecticut computer Guru, I will make an effort to be more diligent and produce more articles in this blog. I believe that my readers also enjoy viewing some pictures that I have taken and I will be posting some pictures both here and also in my web albums. I have recently posted some pictures of our Christmas decorations and they can be seen at:
http://picasaweb.google.com/CharlesNardonester

My other resolution is to eat less. The winter is a very difficult time to lose weight, but if I can take one day at a time (beginning January 2nd), I think I can make a start. Especially if I maintain a daily journal and track my weight.

Happy New Year, and don’t hesitate to write me with your thoughts – especially about what I have expressed here. I cannot put my e-mail address in this Blog as it will result in spam.

Our 22nd Anniversary

2006-11-17T07:35:00.000-05:00

Dear Friends,

Today, November 17th, marks the 22nd anniversary of the day that Nelda and I were married (in 1984). It has been such a fabulous 22 years that I wanted to share this picture with you that was taken right after Nelda and I were married. What a wonderful life we are having together - as you all know. I don't know how it could get better, but it does - day after day.

We are so very fortunate!

Chas

50 years makes a difference

2006-06-24T08:16:00.000-04:00

On June 22, 2006 I was awarded a very nice Citation and "Gift" from the Rhode Island Bar Association. Basically, they gave me some recognition for being a member of the Association, and a licensed attorney in the State of Rhode Island for 50 years. It was a very nice affair and the presentation was made at the annual banquet of the Association with about 400 Association members and Judges in attendance. The presentation was made by my friend, Frank Williams, Chief Judge of the Rhode Island Supreme Court.

The "Gift" was an honorary membership which means that I don't have to pay dues any more.

Now for the amusing part - when the photographer who was arranging the dozen or so of us who made up the group of Honorees, he happened to look up and looked me square in the eye and asked, seriously, "Are you sure you're in this group - have you been a member of the association for 50 years?" I couldn't help being amused by his question, and told him that I got an early start and was only 23 when I was sworn in and admitted to practice.

It was a very nostalgic evening for me as I saw many of my peers who I had not seen in many years.

For the heck of it, I put on a bow tie, which was my trademark back in the old days, and I had Nelda take a picture of me so that I could compare present to past. The result is attached.
Feel free to make comment or contact me at nardone@tstar.net

Chas

Interior Mexico - an adventure

2006-04-05T23:35:00.000-04:00

On March 15, 2006 Nelda and I, and my brother Arthur and his wife Jean started on an adventure into interior Mexico that has enriched our lives. We spent two weeks touring with Grand Circle and were able to visit a multitude of locations. I was especially pleased that we were not led, exclusively, to the tourist traps. We had some of those, but we also delved into the depths of the country, and saw how many of the natives live. We went through the City of Chihuaha, and the desert country that was so remote that the homes did not have sanitation or running water.

It was a picture taking experience as well as being exposed to Mexican culture. I took many pictures as well as video.

so far, I have put about 10 pictures of our Mexico trip on my Pbase site:
> http://www.pbase.com/nardone

I'll be putting more on very soon. I was unselective and hastily put them on the site. I know that I have not put the best ones on yet - I need to review them all on a full screen and be more selective. I had a lot of fun taking them, and then working them over.

It was a super experience. San Carlos is a fabulous place. The hotel in El Fuerte is a photographer's dream. Copper Canyon was well worth the effort of getting there (but not as grand as the Grand Canyon). The local people, and the culture of the people, as presented by their humble homes, dirt streets, and dirt floors in the homes, lack of basic sanitary facilities, running water, etc. was an experience that I will not soon forget. Everyone that we encountered were pleasant, generous, and welcomed us. If there was any hostility to "tourist picture taking", it was not evident.

We saw extremes in housing that were in contrast to each other and, unless explained, would have been a mystery. The Mormons have settled huge areas of interior Mexico and have planted orchards that seem to run from horizon to horizon. They fill the hills and valleys. The Mexican natives obviously supply the labor, and the Mormons supply the intellect. It must be also mentioned that the Mormons have also set up school systems that are as impressive as any Stateside scholastic institution. The schools are open to the native Mexicans as well as the Mormons. In one picture I have captured the Mormon Temple with a magnificent home in the background, with a small apple orchard in the front yard of this elegant home. I tried to capture as many contrasting architectural and cultural situations as possible. For example, there were many native dwellings that had no glassed windows, a dirt floor, no curtains, no doors, were made from adobe, etc. - but there would be a Dish antenna on the straw covered roof.

In Chihuaha we went to a Farmers market that had, among many, many oddities, a skinned out and dessicated skunk for sale. We were told that it is used as a medicine for a variety of ills. In contrast to that we went to a multi-colored water fountain display at night that was choreographed to Classical music - the fountains were played like a ballet to the synch of the music. Unbelievable - and they played many of my favorite pieces. I got many stills but no video. What a shame.

In the high rent district of San Carlos there is a profusion of multi-million dollar homes, with many of them overhanging the water, and the rest having a fabulous view of the mountains that come down, directly to the water. A principal mountain in the San Carlos harbor has been nicknamed "Goat's Tits" and when you see the picture, you'll know why.

The pearl farm was also of great interest. I took some super pix of pearl seed, and the colorful interior of the pearl oyster shell. Every bit as pretty as the pearl. We also saw exquisite pottery being painted and then fired. A new experience.

I could go on and on, but the pictures will have to speak for themselves. I only regret that I am not at a broadband connection where I could upload pictures to my hearts content. I will also go back to the Pbase site and add explanatory comments.

In all, I took 320 still pictures, Nelda took about 130, and I took 3 1/2 hours of video. I have many more excellent photo's to put on Pbase. Stay tuned, and give the site a bookmark.

A Tribute to Ernest Nardone

2006-03-02T09:25:00.000-05:00

This Post is a Tribute to Ernest Nardone who passed away recently, and was written by Gerard A. Nardone (Son of Peter), for the benefit of Ernie's family. It is in the form of a collection of recollections or anecdotes about the life that they had together as "next door cousins" growing up. It is a touching reflection on the good life that existed during the days following the Great Depression, and is proof that life can be, and is, a wonderful experience. This is especially true if we are able to (and allow ourselves) make a friend for life - as is expressed in this most wonderful Tribute to a Friend. Here is Gerard's text:
15 February 2006

To Ernie's family:

I want to extend my very deepest condolences for your great loss. I also want to thank you for keeping me informed about Ernie's condition, I know that my questions were even harder to answer than they were to ask. Then I want also to say how it saddened me not to be able to be there to try to give you some comfort while you endured those difficult days.

However, I thought it might be of some little comfort to you if I told you a little about Ernie's early years and the loving relationship he and I had even before you knew him. It is not my intention to bring a tear, but perhaps a chuckle or two.

Ernie and I were close even before we met. We were born next door to each other toward the end of 1922, Ernie a couple of weeks earlier than I. We were Christened at the same time with his parents as my Godparents and mine as his. The Christening took place early in the summer of 1923 and our parents were quite upset by Fr. Bruno's snide remark, "What took you so long? Were you waiting for them to walk here by themselves?" My mother never got over that.
Mammanonna, who never learned very much English, lived upstairs in Ernie’s house with the Antoninos and we must have spent some time there as our first language was Italian, albeit Mirabellanese. Our households were bi-lingual as our parents were still learning English so our converstions were a mixture of both. We still use some Italian words that are not translatable, but I think you know that.
We played in the yard as little boys and we both remembered the time I was trimming the grass at the edge of the sidewalk with a small axe when Ernie knelt down near to watch and I accidentally cut his knee. I never forgave myself, but in 83 years we never hurt each other again. We also played "down the bank." Behind our houses was a sizeable area where Uncle Sam was excavating gravel to make concrete and his men dug almost to the edge of the lot leaving a narrow grassy strip where we clambered to the top so we could slide down the gravelly slope. This tore large holes in our clothes which our mothers didn't enjoy very much. But all the cousins would gather "down the bank" for our fun games. We would play "Tip-the-finger" where one kid (whoever was "it")would cover his eyes and lean against the barn holding his index finger out behind him. Someone would touch the finger and the one who was "it" would guess who touched him. If he guessed correctly, he would now be "it," if not, everyone would go and hide and the kid who was "it" had to go and find them. A variation of this game was "Kick the can" where we'd place an empty tin can in the middle of a circle while everyone would go hide. Whoever was "it" had to go find everyone and if someone sneaked in and kicked the can out of the circle all those already caught would go free and go and hide again. All went well until someone who was "it"( Cheech Antonino, I think) had the brilliant idea to pee in the can when nobody was looking and the next guy to kick the can got a very unpleasant surprise.
When we were old enough to be allowed to cross the street, we played in the ballfield and at the playground. All the cousins would get together, choose up sides and play baseball or football or Red Rover which was a variation of "Tag" where one kid stood in the center of the field and all the rest ran from one end of the field to the other while the kid who was “it” tried to touch a runner. Those he couldn’t catch then ran the other way the entire length of the field again. This is probably where Ernie developed his running ability because he was the most difficult to catch. On warm summer nights we’d amuse ourselves by seeing how many times we could run around the house, Ernie’s house. Ernie would always run more turns than anybody. During these days we went from roller skates (the clamp-on kind) to scooters and finally to bicycles. Ernie inherited an old bike from his brother (who had bought it from cousin Leo) and I had one that I had bought second-hand for 3 dollars. Mine had a bent fork so to ride “no-hands” I had to lean to the right. These were depression days and our toys weren’t expensive ones, but we were very happy with what we had.
It was during these days that our “bonding” became very strong. Ernie and I were hardly ever out of each other’s shadow, so to speak. Everywhere we went, we went together. We had a counter-pair of closely bonded buddies, too. Henry and Leo. For many years we thought they were cousins like we were, but we found out much later that Henry was Leo’s Uncle! Leo Cardinal was the son of one of Henry’s older sisters. Henry and Leo went to Parochial School where they had classes in religion, but Ernie and I went to Public School so we had to go to Catechism classes after school for First Communion and Confirmation. First Communion wasn’t a problem, but we went to classes for confirmation for two years because the Bishop came down to Westerly from Providence to do confirmations only every two years. Worse yet, when our time came to be confirmed, we were told that we couldn’t be confirmed because we wouldn’t be twelve years old (a requirement) at confirmation time since we started school early. So, we had to go to catechism classes ANOTHER two years! We were so quick with the answers the second time around that the sisters figured we were really eager-beavers and thought that we should become priests! I don’t know how Ernie felt about it, but for me, NO WAY!
Ernie was always a very pious Catholic, he encouraged me to go to Mass every Sunday, he dragged me to May Devotions, the Missions and to confession every month. He was never without his Rosary Beads and he had very definite opinions of the difference between right and wrong. That strength had a very strong influence on my life. I now know the benefits of strong friendships among young people and how that can structure your lives.
As we were growing, the older kids would play their own games and tried to keep us younger kids out of their games. Ernie's older brother Girard was buddies with Ralph and Mike Antonino, while Girard Antonino and Girard (Sabino) teamed up with Ernie and me and we tried to interfere with their games. We would all join ranks, however, when the fruit was ripe, or close to ripe. Adeline had a pear tree and an apple tree that bore real sweet fruit, but Mr. Chase had a couple of cherry trees in his back yard and one of them produced the sweetest cherries we ever tasted. Cheech Antonino climbed the highest, one Sunday night, and filled his shirt with a big load of ripe cherries. We were having a ball when Mr. Chase heard us and came out to chase us away. Most of us got away, but Cheech tried to clamber down quickly but slipped and fell as he hit the ground crushing most of the ripe fruit inside his Sunday shirt. I don't think his mother ever got all the red out.
Uncle Tony had been a bricklayer and stone mason working for his brother, Sam, until his doctor found a heart murmer and advised him to find lighter work. That was around 1928 or 9 so Uncle Tony and Aunt Rose built and ran a grocery store and filling station on the sharp corner of High Street at the foot of Nooseneck Hill. That corner used to be called, “Dead Man’s Corner” because cars would come speeding down the hill and go crashing over the wall at that corner. No telling how many lives were saved by that store being there. We were always afraid that someone would come crashing into the store, but nobody ever did.
We weren't six yet when we started school at the Pleasant Street School, but we were assigned to different teachers. First grade was in the afternoon and second grade was in the morning. It must have been around this time that we discovered that everybody in the world weren't our cousins! We lived in what came to be known as "Nardone Alley" on High Street where we were all cousins, I thought that everybody in the world was a cousin. Besides that, there was a Gerard (or Girard) in every house and if Ernie had been the first son instead of the second he’d be a Girard, too, I don't know what we'd call each other. Maybe we’d use our middle names—then we’d be Frank and Alfonse! Whew! I always felt that Ernie was kind of lucky to have a name all his own because there were so many Gerards. Most of the Gerards even had the same nickname, Cheech, because our grandfather after whom we were all named had that nickname ( he was called Gerardo Mastro Ciccio). I don't know how my nickname got to be "Sonny" but I tried not to let on that I hated it. Ernie's sister, Mary, still calls me Sonny, Bless her heart.
When we were about ten we thought it was time to find out what smoking was all about. We tried dried corn silk wrapped in newspaper, but that wasn’t very good so Ernie would “liberate” cigarettes from the store and we’d go down the bank to smoke. We stood some planks against the concrete wall to construct a kind of teepee as a hid-a-way to do our smoking. There were four or five of us, Ernie and I and a couple of Antonino brothers. We soon realized that we had more cigarettes than we needed, but Ernie couldn’t bring them back and we didn’t want to throw them away, so we lined them up across our mouths and lit them all just to get rid of them, I think Cheech Antonino had six. Well, we threw up such a huge smokescreen that my father thought the place was on fire so he showed up with two buckets of water to put the fire out! When he saw what we were doing, well, do you know what a “conniption” is? We scattered and I ran home and hid behind my mother’s skirt to avoid the whipping I was sure to get. We didn’t smoke again for a very long time.
For third, fourth and fifth grades we went to the High Street School. We finally got into the same classroom at the sixth grade when we were sent to Elm Street School. It was a good long walk from 168 High Street but for the first few weeks we walked home for lunch! Ernie didn't mind, he was always slim and athletic while I was a bit chubby and I could hardly keep up. After a while we brought our lunch to school. A standard lunch consisted of four sandwiches, a piece of pie or cake, a piece of fruit and a pint thermos of milk. We'd always swap a sandwich or two for variety. Aunt Rose made the most delicious banana sandwiches but Ernie graciously gave one up. At that time The Frisbee Company made these little pies, they were about 3 inches in diameter, just right for lunch. I wish they still made them.
After sixth grade we went to Junior High School, it was where we got to meet all the kids from other schools, including Quarry Hill School. In that group was a gorgeous Classic Italian Beauty with jet-black hair and she was a real good singer, too! I think her name was Alice Giannoni, or something like that. With so many Italians in Westerly there was never a problem getting people for Glee Club or Chorus and we joined both. When the High School put on Handel’s Messiah they needed a few more tenors so they canvassed the Junior High for volunteers so Ernie and I went. We had a great time with the older kids, made us feel somewhat more grown up.
Then we went to the new High School. We were in the first class to go through all three years in the new school. Ernie would pop out of his house exactly on time and call my name and we’d go off to school. By the time we graduated, we were among the very few who had gone three years of high school without ever missing a day or being late! I never would have accomplished that without Ernie.
High school was really fun, we enjoyed every minute of it. We did our homework at the store in the show room on Uncle Tony’s side. We helped each other with problems while Uncle Tony rocked in his chair. Whenever we could, we’d go to a movie together, first at the old Lyric Theater on the old bridge, then to the Central Theater “on the other side of the river” then to the United where Henry and Leo were ushers. Until we were 12 we paid a dime, then after that it was a quarter. We loved sports, but since we lived across the street from the ballfield where our mothers could see the ambulance go by during football games, neither of us could get their signatures on the permission slip to play football so we went out for soccer and track. They didn’t know that soccer was almost as brutal as football. Ernie also ran on the track team and since I couldn’t run very fast, I threw things like the javelin and discus. I’ve heard from others, and I’ve learned for myself, that “Home” is where you went to High School.
We graduated together with Henry and Albert Moscaritolo (another cousin) in June of 1940. I still have a picture somewhere of the four of us in our graduation gowns smoking cigars on the front steps of the school. The war in Europe had been going on for 2 years already, but we didn’t pay all that much attention to it. President Roosevelt had promised that “No American boy would be sent to fight in a war overseas,” and we believed him.
With all his outgoing personality and gregariousness, Ernie was a very private person. He kept certain of his personal affairs to himself. I never knew he ever thought about becoming a Dentist! He went off to Providence College and I went to Tufts. Ernie came with us when my family delivered me to the dormitory where I’d been assigned. Saying goodby and watching them drive off was a very sad day in my life. It would have been much sadder if I had realized that the buddy-buddy days with Ernie were over. The Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn of Westerly had grown up. We weren’t the kind of guys who wrote letters and we hardly ever did, but the joy of seeing each other never diminished.
I’d go home to Westerly every 3rd week or so and when I did I’d sometimes take the train with Ernie on Monday morning. He always took the 5:19 out of Westerly and it seemed like a gift when it was changed to the 5:29! Wow! That was early! Ernie did that every day and I’d miss my guess if I thought he ever missed a day!
Ernie went to Dental School in Baltimore before I finished college. He stayed with a Mrs. B. Miller, I think. In February of 1944 I graduated and applied for a commission in the Navy and off I went to the Aleutian Islands. Ernie served in the Army a bit later, but we kind of lost touch there for a while. During the war my family moved to New York. My dad had to give up his business since all the carpenters were either gone to war or working in defense plants and there was no materials for building houses anyway. He was too proud to take a menial job in Westerly. Anyway, when I got out of the Navy I went to New York to live. In those days it was no disgrace for a 24 year-old to live with his parents. Matter of fact, it was a disgrace NOT to.
Ernie and I visited occasionally and when Ernie came to New York, he introduced me to a Dentist friend he met in Baltimore who lived near us. His name was Ralph Menichino. Ernie introduced us to the entire Menichino family. Ralph’s brother, John, was in the same business as me (Construction, of course) so we became good friends.
I attended Ernie and Alice’s wedding in 1949. Phil and I were engaged at the time but it was unheard of for non-married people to travel together, so I went alone. It was a beautiful wedding and Alice made a really beautiful bride. I was a bit upset, though, when some of the guests went into another room to listen to a World Series baseball game.
Ernie and Alice came to our wedding in 1950 and we’ve been visiting back and forth ever since. When Phil had her colon cancer operation, they brought a cooler- full of lobsters! We’ll never forget that and all the other things we’ve done together. Every day I use a silver jigger to pour my scotch, it’s in the shape of a thimble. Every day I hang my coat on a wooden hangar that’s one of six in a gift from Ernie and Alice. We cherish the memories of the visits we enjoyed together in Whitestone, Westbury and here in Knoxville and there on High Street, Champion Street and Shelter Harbor. I can’t forget the graciousness extended to us when my father died nor the sadness of Uncle Tony’s death just one week later. Our house and our lives are filled with the memories of more than 80 years of love and friendship that cannot be matched by anyone, anywhere.

With much love,
Gerard (Sonny)

Thoughts about life and death

2006-02-05T09:50:00.000-05:00

Today is February 5, 2006 and I have just learned of the death of one of my cousins. He was in his early 80's and a wonderful man. He inspired me to write an essay when I was very young about my aspirations to study dentistry, and I know that it pleased him very much.

As with every death of a family member, my thoughts go to the philosophy of life that drives all of us to either promote our own aspirations, or to continue with the life style that has been our "lot in life". We all have, without exception, the ability to continue with doing what we do every day, often referred to as being "in a rut", or to give ourselves what I call a KITA. That, of course, is a noun, but the first word, "kick" is a verb. I'm sure you can figure out the rest of the phrase.

All too often it is so easy to sit back and enjoy the fruits of our labors, reflecting on the good and the bad times, and enjoying the vicarious thrill of times gone by. Or, if we are so inspired (or inclined) we can break away from this lethargy and inspire ourselves to do just a little more.

When someone passes away, if I knew them well, I take on the mantle of the young person sitting in the dance hall who has sat on the sidelines all during the dance, not dancing because of shyness, or whatever, and now it's the time when they're playing the tune for the last dance. I think about the person who has died, and I wonder if they have been sitting on the sidelines of life, waiting for that opportune time to get out there and dance, or if they waited too long and now the last tune has been played and they never "got out there". It is a sad thing to let life go by without taking advantage of the wonders that are available.

Just recently I took out a video tape from the library which is all scenery, much of it taken from a plane or helicopter (my favorite videos) and supported with inspirational music in the background. I'm really not into religious inspirational music, but the Mormon Tabernacle Choir is an exception, and hearing them while watching wonderful scenes of mountains and streams has got to inspire anyone. It makes you appreciate life and inspires me, at least, to see more of what nature has to offer.

Since retirement a few years ago I have come to enjoy the marvels of computers, as well as digital photography, and the two are not only compatible, but are like wine, bread and cheese, - a perfect combination. So, this morning I was entering more pictures into my computer library and started to maximize or improve (we do not like to use the term "enhance" as it suggests manipulation) one of the pictures that I took recently. The location is the dining room in my bunkhouse which is where I entertain my computer and photographic cronies. Since I no longer go to our favorite hunting camp in New Hampshire, the bunkhouse has to do the duty of providing a place for me and my drinking buddies to hang out. I had set up the table for lunch, and it all looked so nice that I took a picture of the scene. I had fun cooking a big batch of chicken cacciatore and penne, and we knocked off a half gallon of my favorite wine, Fortissimo, while we settled the problems of the world. A super way to spend a winter afternoon (if you have to be indoors).

Philosophy for 2006

2005-12-26T09:19:00.000-05:00

As I sit here looking out my office window, and I'm facing east as the sun begins to spread sunshine, warmth, and an infusion of new hope for the rest of my life, I'm thinking to myself - today, December 26th should be named "Freedom Day", and should be a holiday just like Christmas and New Year. Today is the day that we look for, anticipate, put our hopes on, and relish like no other. It is the Day After Christmas.

Not that we can relax completely, because there is still so much work to be done, the bulldozing of the wrapping paper, finding an appropriate place to stash (or store) the stuff that we got, the KP duty in the kitchen after the holiday feasting, and the list is almost endless - but we can be light hearted to some extent because the heavy duty stress of the holidays is over for another year.

We can devote some essential time to planning the next calendar year. It is not so much a matter of making resolutions which are suggestive of being negative, e.g. "I'm not going to let stress get me down as much this year", but more of adopting a philosophy that has a positive approach to it such as - "this year I'm going to take calendar in hand and start penciling in activities that I WILL do this coming year". Even if we don't do those things, at least we can lay a guilt trip on ourselves for failing ourselves by letting the duties (supposed or real) of life assert a more important position in our lives.

In 2006 I pledge to myself that I am going to make an honest effort to see every day for what it has to offer, and to balance duty and pleasure and to know the difference. If I can enforce my belief that, in retirement, there is more pleasure than duty to be experienced, then I will have succeeded. I am hoping that I will not let the devil of procrastination work at keeping me from enjoyment of life. It is so easy to laze oneself into believing that if I don't do it today, I can still do it tomorrow. I believe in KITA. It is something that we must apply to ourselves regularly, especially when it comes to overriding a feeling of responsibility and to abandon that feeling in favor of doing something of enjoyment for ourselves. Finding an activity that is truly enjoyable can be a daunting task.

I believe in nostalgia. For the sake of those who might define nostalgia differently than me, let me say that nostalgia to me is the remembrance of the many pleasurable times in our lives that occured in the past. Usually, this is a time that is many years removed from the present. I believe in pictures that were generated in the past. This is also true of videos, but I have found that videos are too "real", whereas viewing single pictures is more like listening to a radio program than watching a television show. You have to use your imagination. That is an essential part of nostalgia - using your imagination. It lends itself to exaggeration of the mind and memory. Viewing single pictures, or even a series of single pictures of the same event often permits us to use some license to expand the amount of enjoyment of that moment. There is nothing wrong with it. A little less reality goes a long way.

I will conclude here by suggesting to my reader that you seize upon the opportunity of doing something just because you are alive. Regardless of limitations, it is essential to make the most of every single day. I'm thinking of a few people that I know who are so restricted, physically, (and mentally, in a semi-coma) that they are or might be unaware of the fact that they are even alive. I think of what they must or might be thinking - if they are compos mentis, and I wonder if they say to themselves - if only I could - I would be out fishing, or working in my garden, or calling my best friend.

"Carpe diem" is the popular phrase of moment, "seize the day". Give it your very best shot. Look at an old album -call a friend!!!

Sincerely and humbly,

Chas

A Christmas Letter To All My Relatives and Friends

2005-12-21T08:11:00.000-05:00

Christmas Friendship and Greetings 2005

Chas here- I won the toss and took the first leg of this greeting:

Then ………..
When I was a kid, probably age 10 or so, at Christmas time the men in each family spent a good part of the holidays visiting, conversing, recounting the events of the past year, and passing on the gossip that was current and the scandal that was old. Most of the families in our neighborhood were of Italian background. Everyone knew each and every person of each family and especially the stories of success or failure that went with each family. There was no need for genealogies then because memories were long, and nothing that happened went un-noticed. There were always a few women who kept track of every scandal, every wedding, every extended “vacation” spent out of town, etc. It was a tight group whose family values became the dominant focal point of the Holiday. Hearts were light for the season, at least..
On Christmas morning I remember so well the visits that were made by my father, usually in the company of some of his brothers, to the homes of his brothers and sister - unannounced, and also to the homes of many of his friends. This was tradition and it was not unusual for a small group of 2 or 3 people in his group to pick up a few more from the homes that that they visited. Eventually, the group would grow, but who cared. Family was everything. The visit was expected, it was tradition. Not to visit would have been an insult. Even though I was very young I was allowed to tag along because of my fondness for the holidays and being with the family.
At each home that was visited the host and hostess would be bursting with pride to be selected for this honored visit. The home-made liqueurs would be brought out and the little tiny glasses that were kept for “best” would be set out for the visitors. There were always the bowls of nuts, both shelled and unshelled, and candy, cookies, special holiday pastries and special fruit such as pomegranates which I liked because the seeds looked like jewels. There was one very special candy called “Torrone”, made in Perugia, Italy and imported for the holiday. It was made of nougat and had an edible paper wrapper. For many of us kids of that era, it represented Christmas as much as a Christmas tree. Usually the women of the house were busy beyond any measure of effort, and they would all be in their holiday finest, but protected by their home-made holiday aprons which were extremely colorful. The smells from the kitchen were surpassed only by the overflowing love of the people who were sharing their pride and family. Holiday music, usually with an Italian flavor, would add to the pleasure.
“Then” was about 62 years ago and in those years the neighbors saw each other at least weekly and would exchange their stories about current affairs. At Christmas time the holiday conversation was a time for jokes, merriment, progress of the children and then, always, respect was paid to relatives who had passed away in the previous year.

Now ………..
As much as we would like to visit with friends and family, Holiday season preparations and social commitments limit our visitation time, and we must resort to Christmas Letters.

This past year, 2005, found Nelda and me wanting to challenge the passage of time. We realized that we had not done as much of the traveling that we had long hoped for. Would we be able to meet the challenge to our bodies that travel requires? These questions swirled through our minds. We had returned, only weeks before, from Thanksgiving Week 2004 in Cancun with all of Nelda’s family. Were we ready for more travel?
In March of 2005 we flew to Holland for a Riverboat tour. Neither of us had ever been to Holland or Belgium, however the lure of the spring tulips was so great that we couldn’t pass it up. We visited the Kieukenhoff Gardens and Charlie was able to fulfill his desires to photograph with his digital camera to his heart’s delight. The Gardens were magnificent and in prime condition. We also visited a chocolate factory, as well as enjoying an afternoon of light lunch and local color while being entertained by a local family. We were impressed by the architecture, the real cobblestone streets and sidewalks, and especially the opulence of many of the public buildings which displayed gold leafed statuary. The country suffered extensive damage during WW II, but it was not evident.
Last summer we had many visitors including Nelda’s daughter Mary and her two children; Nelda’s sister Linda and her husband Nick, and our dear friend Pam Woods. Nelda was able to visit many art and antique shows with Pam. Nelda’s son, Reg with his wife Julie and their two children came from Oregon to visit. Chas on the other hand was happy to be diving a couple of times, or more, a week, as well as playing golf with his brother Arthur about once a week. In the Fall we were visited by our good friends Tom and Claire Edwards from Marble Falls, TX. In the Fall, Nelda and Charlie were able to get away to the Mt. Washington Hotel in New Hampshire for a few days of relaxation and viewing the Fall Foliage.
In September, Nelda and her two daughters Mary and Suzanne had a wonderful time in London and Paris taking in all of the museums, historical locations and theater as two weeks would allow – all without the distraction of husbands and children. It was a great ”female-bonding” time!
We got back to TX in late October, and on November 28th Chas had surgery to replace his right hip. He is still recovering, so not very available to help with the Christmas decorations. He should be good as new in a few weeks.
That’s all the news, without too many of the details. We look forward to visiting with all of you and fill you in on everything that we either glossed over, or forgot.
Chas has a blogspot which can be accessed at http://chasnar.blogspot.com/ for current events in our lives.
We wish everyone the very best of health and good fortune for the coming year and all the years to come.

Lots of Love to all,

Chas and Nelda

Hip replacement

2005-12-07T08:52:00.000-05:00

On November 28, 2005 I had a right hip replacement done by Dr. Eugene Schoch, probably the best and most experienced hip surgeon in Austin. He is an excellent doctor, very professional, and well staffed with professional assistants that you feel comfortable with.

Just so that I would have something to compare to, I had been seen by another orthopoedic surgeon in Austin who came recommended, but who, in my opinion was lacking in the professional conduct and testing that I observed in Dr. Schoch. Simply stated, I am comfortable with Dr. Schoch.

My experience at the post operative hospital, which I will leave nameless, was in general very pleasant. It is a very expensive hospital that deals with surgical patients only - thus reducing your exposure to outside infection. It is staffed with a very large staff of a mix of nurses, technicians, physical therapy specialists, etc. They were regularly making their rounds, often hourly, to take vital signs such as body temp, giving pain blocking medicine, taking blood pressure, and several other procedures. They were definitely not understaffed. However, I had one bad experience which could have been a catastrophe.

The nurses left me at 1 a.m. after taking my vitals, etc. and when they left, they had left both walkers (that were in my room) out of reach. It was only a few minutes after they left that I called on the intercom and said that I needed help in getting to the walker. No one came. I was under a lot of pressure as I had an emergency BM coming on. I leaned on a "serving" table next to my bed to get to the nearest walker. The table gave way throwing me off balance and I fell backwards against the bed, table, etc. I hung on to the walker, positioned myself in it and managed to get to the bathroom. I was sitting on the toilet a good 5 minutes before anyone arrived. They told me that they thought I said I could not reach the "water" when I said "walker". No, I'm not suing but I had some serious talks with doctor Schoch's assistant and the highest level hospital staff. This is a very upscale hospital that deals only in surgical patients. I insisted on an Xray and they took two, and I got copies of each.

I am posting a picture of the Xray and direct your attention to the spike that is driven into the femur with a hammer (you can see the femur on either side of the spike if you look hard), and also look at the screw that goes up from the ball socket into the hip.

Ken Lapham gets the credit for converting the Xray into a picture that I could post with this message.

Today is December 7th, and the walker is going to be part of my life for another few weeks. It is a painful procedure, and it also will test the patience of even a saint.

I have absolutely no regrets about getting it done.

More later,

Chas

What is your favorite Food?

2005-11-18T08:31:00.000-05:00

Nelda and I were at a restaurant which asked us to complete a questionairre - probably to help them maintain a menu that was both cost effective and attractive to their customers. In the course of filling in some answers Nelda turned to me and asked "What's your favorite food"? I couldn't answer her. I started to say "Macadamia nuts", and she said that that wouldn't work. I asked her what her favorite food was and she replied "Ice Cream". This will give you some idea of what an acceptable answer might be.

It really got me to thinking, and I am truly puzzled because there are so many "foods" that I like, and this, of course got me to thinking about "dishs" (as in entree'). If a single food item were to be considered such as aged provolone, or soppressata, or macadamia nuts, it is possible that the choice would be easier. But, even that would be a very hard choice. Then there are a variety of foods such as desserts, entree's, appetizers, vegetables (?), nuts, candy, etc. The list is endless.

Maybe to narrow it down the question could be refined to this: If you were told that you were going to be confined to an island for one week with water and one "food" item, what would you want to take with you. Or maybe if you were to have one "last meal", what would you choose.

It is a very puzzling question and I don't have an answer. I pose the question to you, what is your favorite food? You can use the comments to post your answer - and preferably identify yourself. All of the comments are available to others reading the blog.

Chas (as we approach Thanksgiving)

Our 21st Anniversary

2005-11-13T07:20:00.000-05:00

On November 17, 1984, almost 21 years ago, Nelda S. Fox and I were married in North Stonington, CT by Rev. Lynn Holden. Nelda was a young, gorgeous, vivacious woman of 46, and I was a mere boy of 51. As you can see by the photo, I was also a few pounds lighter and had more hair.

The past 21 years have been the best of my life. Each year gets better, if that is possible. The love and respect that seemed to be at it's peak when we married, has not diminished but grown.

We have been through some trying times with my health issues, but Nelda has never retired from her constant vigil of my concerns, and those of her family and friends. She is, without a doubt, the most beautiful, capable, intelligent, caring, and gracious person I have ever met.

Our life together has been what all men and women would hope for. There are no limits on the praise that I can address to Nelda as she is as near perfect a wife as any man would hope to find in his lifetime.

Once Upon A Time In America

2005-11-07T20:53:00.000-05:00

One of my very best friends, Tom Chiaradio, took the time to look up and find a picture of the ship that his father passaged on to get to America. He sent me a copy of the picture, and I was inspired enough, not only by his respect for his father and family to make that search, but also because it reminded me so much of my own search for my family heritage.

I am posting here (below) my reaction/response to Tom's e-mail of that picture. If you, the reader's, own parents came to America as immigrants you may find this of interest. There is also something of interest to be gleaned from this essay even if your parents were born in America. We are extremely fortunate to be Americans.

"Yo Compadre,

That's a nice picture. A lot of nostalgia, and it gives you plenty to think about. You can't help but wonder what it was like to take that long cruise, in many cases alone, or with a relative, but always after leaving everyone you knew back in Italy. Just think of the fear that might have built up in their imagination, or maybe just the opposite, the hope and excitement of "gold in the streets waiting to be picked up!" Those were times that none of us has gone through, with the exception of those, like you, who went off to war not knowing if you were ever coming back, and fearing what lay ahead. The two experiences do not belong in the same paragraph, but I draw on the similarity only as to the adventure of leaving your family behind.

If we could only talk to our parents and ask the intelligent questions that come with years of experience from living. We were not old enough to know the right questions to ask when we were younger. We did not have the proper frame of mind or frame of reference. I don't know what pearls of information I might pass on to my kids, and I do know that they don't ask anyway. If they ever asked me what it was like in the 40's and 50's, and I told them, I don't think they would ever ask again. We lived a life of frugality. Maybe it was like that with our parents. Maybe they didn't WANT to remember. I heard once that when my uncle Jack heard that someone from Mirabella, Italy who had come to America and had lived here for most of his life, was going back to Mirabella for a visit - Jack was reputed to have asked, in incredulous tones - Why???? And that was supposedly followed up with something like "There's nothing there, why would you want to go back?" This is why I refer to frame of mind and frame of reference. He, obviously, did not have great memories of what he left behind, and was just as happy to never have to go back.

What we think of the "Old Country" is something that we have built up in our minds. Times there were tough. They're probably still tough. I don't believe that anywhere on earth will you find the extravagances that we have in America.

Only the individual knows his own story, and just as we, if asked for our story, would never give it in it's complete and unabridged version, so they would have done the same thing and held back most, and tell only the surface story.

Ah, enough nostalgia. It's hot here in Texas - very uncomfortable.

Chas"

Nutcracker Ballet - the Story

2005-11-06T08:18:00.000-05:00

As we approach the Christmas season, the traditional time during which the Nutcracker Ballet receives the most attention, I am urged to find the story that is told by the ballet.

The following is only one of the interpretations, however it is also a start, or at least it is enough to inspire the reader to find out more about this magnificent work of Art. It is, without a doubt, a Christmas favorite. Read on:

The basic libretto of the Nutcracker has as many interpretations as there are staged versions. The characters' names often change and plot twists are added. The only constant is the music. Tchaikovsky's musical genius created one of the most recognizable and enduring scores ever written. An abbreviated version, the Nutcracker Suite, is one of the most recorded selections in classical repertoire. In the final analysis, it is the music that has truly given the Nutcracker a life of its own.
The Nutcracker is set in Western Europe during the 1800's. A doctor and town Mayor, Hans Stahlbaum delights in holding large holiday gatherings for family and friends. His two children, Clara and Fritz, anxiously await the arrival of guests. The snow evokes a pleasant festive atmosphere as the guests arrive. Tardy as always, Clara's godfather, Herr Drosselmeyer arrives with special fanfare. He causes quite a stir and then entertains and delights all onlookers with his exquisite mechanical dolls.

All the children receive gifts with Fritz getting a rocking hobby train. A bit jealous, Clara approaches Drosselmeyer for her gift. He teases her with a presentation of a mother mouse. Fritz pulls a baby mouse from the mother mouse's apron and sends Clara scampering. Drosselmeyer quickly makes amends and presents Clara with an unusual prize, a colorful Nutcracker. Delighted, Clara instantly is enthralled with the gift. Sibling rivalry takes hold and in a tussle to wrest the Nutcracker away from Clara, Fritz breaks him. Drosselmeyer repairs the poor Nutcracker, but Clara is disappointed. Drosselmeyer promises that all will be well.
Evening overtakes the party and the guests depart. Clara is shooed to bed. All is quiet in the Stahlbaum residency, or is it? Clara has awakened and longing for her Nutcracker comes back to the living room. She quickly finds her doll and falls asleep again. There begins her magical dream...

Thematically, Clara is cast as a teen just beginning to bud into adulthood. She is young enough to display childlike emotions, yet mature enough to fantasize that a doll turned human can have idyllic qualities of heroism, selflessness, tenderness and a zest for adventure. Her attraction to the handsome Nutcracker is only natural; Clara has created him in her mind's eye. She has molded a doll into a living being and a prince at that. Her devotion to the Nutcracker is symbolized by her brave effort to save him from being vanquished by the evil Mouse King. As the Nutcracker becomes more lifelike, the dream sequence carries her to a romantic interlude, a magical winter wonderland and an exotic garden in the Kingdom of the Sweets.
The character of Drosselmeyer has almost endless possibilities. The Seiskaya version adopts the characterization of him as Clara's godfather who is an eccentric maker of magnificent mechanical toys. A widower with no children of his own, he delights in teasing and pleasing his only godchild. Drosselmeyer's relationship to the Nutcracker is simply that of an artisan. Clara's dream vision of Drosselmeyer is an expression of her affection for him and an extension of the attributes she sees in him.
The Nutcracker has two major ensemble dances: the Dance of the Snowflakes and the Dance of the Flowers. One of the strengths of the Seiskaya Company has always been ensemble segments. Nowhere is this more evident than in these dances. Flowing lines, exact patterns and intricate interplay between corps and soloists are the hallmark of the choreography.
Cyril W. Beaumont the noted dance critic, historian and author panned the original 1934 British version of the Nutcracker. "The final scene is merely an excuse for the traditional series of character dances which, in this instance, are seldom appropriate to the situation and, generally speaking are of indifferent quality." History has proven even a revered critic like Mr. Beaumont can be wrong. The Second Act has long been considered the ballet's highlight.
The Seiskaya version of the Kingdom of the Sweets, Act II, reaffirms the classical approach. The scene opens with the Sugar Plum Fairy joined by a host of angels followed by the entrance of her court and finally Clara and the Nutcracker. Clara and the Nutcracker are presented with sweets and fruits from around the world. The members of the Sugar Plum's court represent many lands as well as characters from children's fairy tales. Clara's dream at this juncture takes on a "sugar and spice and everything nice" tone. Seiskaya's unusual choreographic adaptations frame the character ballet dances with a unique quality.

Beaumont was a lot more generous in his opinion of the Dance of the Snowflakes and in particular the Sugar Plum Pas de Deux: "...there are three beautiful 'classical numbers' - the pas de deux danced by the Sugar-Plum Fairy and her Cavalier, the latter's variation, and the 'Dance of the Sugar-Plum Fairy.'" Seiskaya's rendition of this famous pas de deux matches the extraordinary talents of guest artist Luciano Lazzarotto with Seiskaya Ballet's top principal ballerinas Christina Schifano, Sara Dowd and Kiersten Engel. About the pas de deux it can be said, "we saved the best for last."

Rhode Island flood conditions

2005-10-16T17:06:00.000-04:00

New England, and Rhode Island and Connecticut especially were inundated with 8 days of rain that was constant at times. The streams and rivers have been in flood stage for several days. Pools of water are standing in places that have not held water for many years. Among the places that show evidence of flooding is the Potter Hill dam in Hopkinton, Rhode Island. I have taken some pix of the area, and the dam in particular. Attached is one of those pictures. Normally, this dam has about 5 feet of dam wall showing. Today, there appeared to be less than 1 foot. I have never seen the Pawcatuck River this high.

Swan Lake, The story

2005-10-08T10:21:00.000-04:00

Many people have been thrilled and enthralled by the ballet Swan Lake, but have never been aware of the story that is told. It is better than Sleeping Beauty, and should be told to every child and grown up who enjoys the arts.

Swan Lake, The Libretto:The popularity of Swan Lake is found its romantic and tragic story and the music that accompanies its unfolding. The heroines of other classics (Sleeping Beauty, Coppelia, Giselle) all have some relation to the real world, they are peasant girls or princesses. The heroine of Swan Lake is a princess of the night; she is all magic, a creature of the imagination. She is a beautiful bird, except for a brief time - between midnight and dawn - when the mysterious sorcerer, Von Rothbart, allows her to become a beautiful woman. The great love she comes to have for a worldly prince is doomed at its start; she has no control over her destiny.

Act I; Scene: The Garden: Prince Siegfried and his friends are celebrating his twenty-first birthday. The event is interrupted by the arrival of his mother, the Queen who presents him with a cross bow. She reminds her son that it is time he married. It is her wish that Siegfried select a bride at a ball she has arranged for him on the following day. Marriage is not something he wants to think about yet, so as the Queen departs, he continues to dance with his friends. As the party draws to a close, the Prince is in a melancholy mood. He is aroused by Benno who has sighted a flight of swans. Young Siegfried, deciding the night is still to be enjoyed, pursues the flock alone.

Act II; Scene: The Lakeside: Prince Siegfried arrives at the lake, suddenly sees a magnificent swan in flight and carefully takes aim. To his astonishment, the bird transforms into a most beautiful young woman, Odette. Frightened, she begs the Prince not to shoot. She tells him that she and her companions have been captured by the wicked sorcerer, von Rothbart, and turned into swans. However, between midnight and dawn they are able to return to their human form. They swim on a lake which has been formed from her mother’s tears, shed at her daughter’s plight. They can only be saved if a man declares his undying love to her. Suddenly, von Rothbart appears and Prince Siegfried reaches for his crossbow. Once again Odette pleads with him not to shoot, for the death of the sorcerer could end all chances of release from the spell. As more swan maidens arrive, Siegfried and Odette express their growing love. In the distance, von Rothbart is menacing and ready to reclaim the bewitched creatures under his spell. Dawn approaches and although Siegfried tries to restrain Odette, von Rothbart’s power forces her and her companions to return to the lake as swans.

Act III; Scene: The Great Hall: Courtiers and guests gather from various royal houses for Siegfried’s birthday celebration, each bringing a Princess eligible for his hand in marriage. With his mind clearly on Odette, Siegfried sinks more into despair at the choice he will have to make. At the moment of the decision, a fanfare announces the arrival of the Baron von Rothbart and his daughter Odile, disguised as Odette. Prince Siegfried, convinced he is with his beloved, declares his fidelity. He realizes too late he is the victim of a terrible plot and rushes towards the lake seeking his beloved.

Act IV; Scene: The Lakeside: The swan-maidens await their queen. In deepest distress Odette returns to them, and tries to drown herself in the lake. Her companions restrain her. Siegfried enters the glade in great despair, and begs her forgiveness. In Odile he had seen the image of Odette and had falsely addressed his words of affection to her. Furiously von Rothbart turns the elements against the lovers. As they fight Siegfried breaks von Rothbart’s wing, and the spell dies with the evil sorcerer. The swan maidens are all released, and Odette and Siegfried live happily ever after.

Antique Car show at Mystic Seaport

2005-09-27T11:31:00.000-04:00

Here's one of the antique cars that we saw at the Mystic Seaport.

Mystic Seaport Antique Auto show

2005-09-26T13:18:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, in the company of my good friends Ted and Rene Kenyon and their daughter Holly, we toured the Mystic Seaport in Mystic, CT where the Seaport was sponsoring an Antique Auto show. There had to be at least 100 antique cars, all dating prior to 1925 - my guess. They were magnificently preserved and displayed. Many of the car owners were dressed in period clothing, some with parasols, others with knickers, some with knee high lace up boots, bowler hats, touring clothes, etc. It was a magnificent experience, made better by picture perfect weather and a setting that is absolutely perfect. It was an extremely rich experience, and a perfect day for the outing. I will be posting to my Pbase site many more of the photos that I took yesterday. The gallery name will be Antique Autos.

Seagull in flight

2005-09-13T07:44:00.000-04:00

On a recent trip to Block Island, Rhode Island, and enjoying the view from the upper deck of the Ferry from Pt. Judith, I was given the opportunity to take a picture of a seagull in flight that was traveling at my altitude, and at the speed of the ferry. I was able to capture the attached photo and am pleased with the result. I was using my Minolta Dimage Z1 and had it set at the standard point and shoot setting. As an afterthought, I realized that I probably should have used the "action" setting, but I won't complain about this picture.

Golfing in Rhode Island

2005-09-11T07:40:00.000-04:00

Last friday I played golf with my brother Arthur (Turp), and our good friend Bob Miller. I played lousy, i.e. not being able to get any good Tee shots, and my putting was also off. On the 18th hole at Meadowbrook CC in Richmond, RI, Bob tee'd off with an iron and dropped it about 10 feet from the pin. It's a par 3 hole, about 175 yards. It my turn next and I used a 5 iron off the Tee and I dropped it about 5 feet from the hole. Then it was a putting duel between Bob and myself, and he went first and dropped it in. Considering how lousy I had been playing all day, the pressure was on when I stepped up to putt. I dropped it in for a birdie and finished off a beautiful, albeit not so successful, day. It was an almost perfect September day with lots of blue sky and cumulous clouds. Fall is about the best season of the year in Rhode Island - but that's a comparative statement because every season is super in Rhode Island.

Newport RI by sea

2005-09-08T18:05:00.000-04:00

Today, 9/8/05 I was a guest of my very good friends, Ted and Rene Kenyon, and we cruised Newport harbor and then some in their Boston Whaler. We went by the New York Yacht Club which is where the organization of the Americas Cup races are planned. The Cup used to reside there, I believe, until it was won by another country a few years ago. If I recall correctly, it was Australia that won it. Anyway, I took pictures of it and am posting it here. We went by the Hammersmith Farm Estate which is where Jackie Kennedy grew up, plus many other estates. The grounds and the mansions are exquisite.

We also saw many huge yachts, some triple masted sailboats, and we also went by the Newport War College which is a magnificent campus. All in all, it was quite an experience. The weather was great, except that we had gone about 20 miles or more up into Narragansett Bay with a light tail wind, and when we were coming back it had freshened to maybe 15 mph or better, with whitecaps and a following sea, and it took us 3 times longer to get back as it did to get up to Barrington, RI.

Pulitzer prizes, some information

2005-08-30T19:20:00.000-04:00

Over the years the Pulitzer board has at times been targeted by critics for awards made or not made. Controversies also have arisen over decisions made by the board counter to the advice of juries. Given the subjective nature of the award process, this was inevitable. The board has not been captive to popular inclinations. Many, if not most, of the honored books have not been on bestseller lists, and many of the winning plays have been staged off-Broadway or in regional theaters. In journalism the major newspapers, such as The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, and The Washington Post, have harvested many of the awards, but the board also has often reached out to work done by small, little-known papers. The Public Service award in 1995 went to The Virgin Islands Daily News, St. Thomas, for its disclosure of the links between the region's rampant crime rate and corruption in the local criminal justice system. In letters, the board has grown less conservative over the years in matters of taste. In 1963 the drama jury nominated Edward Albee's Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf?, but the board found the script insufficiently "uplifting," a complaint that related to arguments over sexual permissiveness and rough dialogue. In 1993 the prize went to Tony Kushner's "Angels in America: Millennium Approaches," a play that dealt with problems of homosexuality and AIDS and whose script was replete with obscenities. On the same debated issue of taste, the board in 1941 denied the fiction prize to Ernest Hemingway's For Whom the Bell Tolls, but gave him the award in 1953 for The Old Man and the Sea, a lesser work. Notwithstanding these contretemps, from its earliest days, the board has in general stood firmly by a policy of secrecy in its deliberations and refusal to publicly debate or defend its decisions. The challenges have not lessened the reputation of the Pulitzer Prizes as the country's most prestigious awards and as the most sought-after accolades in journalism, letters, and music. The Prizes are perceived as a major incentive for high-quality journalism and have focused worldwide attention on American achievements in letters and music.

Life in New England

2005-08-29T20:30:00.000-04:00

A couple of days ago I was heading to the beach and came around a corner on Route 49, a State Road in the backwoods of North Stonington, where we live in the summer, and I about 100 yards ahead of me, a small herd of dairy cows in the middle of the road. Someone had left a gate open and they had merely wandered out. A typical rural happening. I had my Z1 handy and took the picture attached.
Yesterday my High School Class had a 55th year reunion and we had a fair turnout. Tomorrow I'll post a picture of those that attended. Our clas numbered around 137, and we had only about 60 people show up for the reunion. I served the reunion committee as toastmaster for the affair and I read the necrology so as to have a moment of silence to remember them, It was a sobering event.

Diving for clams, relaxing to the surf, beaching

2005-08-26T19:57:00.000-04:00

Today was a red letter day.
I picked up a grinder and some Italian delicacies early this a.m. and then went diving and got 20 pounds of clams (we were getting short). Then I went to the Weekapaug Point overlook and ate the grinder and listened to the surf, and La Boheme (on the truck radio) while sitting in my pickup. Then, I went to the beach (ocean front) opposite the Weekapaug Yacht Club and played tourist/vacationer with a folding chair and Profiles in Courage by JFK that I just started. I spent about 5 hours on the beach and even went swimming in the ocean. Super day. All last winter I dreamt about spending a day exactly as I did today. Tomorrow, Saturday, the beach will be crowded. I'll wait til Monday and do it again- weather permitting.
If you haven't read Profiles - it's not too late to get started. I sometimes get my reading list by doing a google search on Pulitizer. I'm not sure if Profiles made the list.

The point of this post is: Don't wait to do what you dream about. Do it while you can.

Character, and pix of Weekapaug

2005-08-26T07:53:00.000-04:00

Yesterday I indulged myself by doing something I dreamed about all last winter while we were in Texas - I went to my favorite area, Weekapaug, and took some pix of the ocean and the general area and I also sat and listened to the surf and some great music on the truck's radio, and I ate a grinder. I also started a new (for me) book, Profiles in Courage by JFK. One of the phrases at the beginning of the book caught my attention: Courage is a diamond with many facets. I believe that this is also true of Character. IMHO this book should be mandatory reading for every american, especially young children just getting started in life.

Recipe for a super salsa

2005-08-23T21:40:00.000-04:00

My brother Arthur (Turp) came up with a super recipe for salsa and I thought I could copy and paste it into this blog, but it won't paste. If you want a super, albeit mild - which I especially enjoy, send me an e-mail message and I'll send it to you.
Chas

Where is Waldo

2005-08-22T18:58:00.000-04:00

My first blog

2005-08-22T08:00:00.000-04:00

This blog was created on August 22, 2005 by a 72 year old youngster who has adopted a new hobby of sharing adventures with the world. I am only a delete key click away from your recycle bin, but you might just find something interesting if you follow the yellow brick road.

Chas