some of you can still remember...

i hope...



i still have my typewriter in the back room. it cost over $600 when i bought it back in the 80's! i'm hoping that some day it will be worth more as an antique.

i have some typing habits that i just can't get rid of from using it. for example, if i make a typing error, i will hit delete all the way back to the error instead of just putting the cursor next to the incorrect letter, and i've been using a computer from the time of the Apple II.

some habits are just too hard to beat. like the clock in the kitchen. it was on the same wall for 47 years. when i remodeled the kitchen 5 years ago, i had to move it. to this day, if i'm in the kitchen and want to see what time it is, i still look first at that wall.

Habits are like submarines. They run silent and deep. – Denis Waitley

Dan Fogelberg...

One of the things that I've noticed while getting older is that you start to view hearing about people's deaths differently. Before, the reaction was a combination of initial shock and then a shrug of the shoulders. Like hearing a statement of fact that momentarily had an emotion attached to it.

Now, it's like, "Oh, another one." and an instant recall of memories associated with the person or a memory that I attached to a person. It weighs a little more than before.

News of Dan Fogelberg's death was on Page 2 of today's Chicago Sun-Times. My mind instantly went to the face of a friend I haven't seen or talked to in many years - April. I don't know exactly why we haven't kept in touch; we were very close. I contacted her a couple of times. I even got a clipping from her about her father's death a few years ago. I guess, no, I know, things just happen.

Why Dan Fogelberg brought her to mind, I'm not really sure. Maybe, it was his voice. Maybe, it was some song we shared by him. Who knows? At least, we'll always have memories.

I know a lot of people are familiar with the song Run For the Roses but I'm not sure that many are aware that Dan Fogelberg wrote it. I liked this video of it. Enjoy Dan's voice...

slow posting...

i realize that i haven't posted in a couple of days and i received an email from a couple of people about it.

the last two days have been a couple of the worst since the problems started with the herniated discs started at Thanksgiving. (Yes, i said discs. there are three. i never do things in an easy way.) i'm on double doses of Darvocet for the pain and Valium for the muscle spasms and still i am in pain! and i'm not having any fun. the doctor's don't let me take Vicodin because i have too much fun on it. b****es!

i ventured out Friday night (probably why the last two days have been so bad) to see the new Lyric Opera production of Dr. Atomic by John Adams and Peter Sellars. I wanted a glass of gin to get numb but my friends put their collective feet down. Dr. Atomic was one of the most incredible opera experiences i've ever had.

the earliest i can get in to start the treatments is December 28th because of the holidays and doctors schedules. soooooo, i'm going to hobble about and continue to lie low. luckily with the snow last night here in Chicago, i have no desire to even venture out. the guys are here plowing the driveways right now.

i told my friends that no matter how much pain i'm in i AM going to bake bread for the holidays as i always do. i can't wait to make the ciabatta. i have a great recipe from my mother.

sadly, i can't do my big New Year's Eve bash that i do every year. it's a multi-course wine-paired affair that takes 4-5 days to put together. everything is from scratch. the main course this year (i start planning the menu in January!) was going to be Coniglio Tuscano - a rustic rabbit stew.

this is just another little bump in the road of aging.

as my grandmother always said, "The man who said life begins at 40 should've been shot!"

my favorite blogsite...

I read a lot of blogs and websites - news, pundits, lgbt, politics, style, foreign - the list is pretty endless. i admit that i'm a junky. the world at my fingertips, so to speak.

the link list on the right side of this site is really only a small smattering. they are more of the most frequent. i try to update it from time to time, but keeping up with it can be more time consuming.

there is one blogsite, however, that far and away is my favorite, my fantasy, my escape, so to speak. here are a few pictures from it to give you an idea


Roehr cycle



a sled by Porsche



the new Knightrider KITT



Ferrari 599



Raikkonen & Schumacher - Grand Prix Circuit



one of a kind CCX



the new James Bond Astin-Martin



the ultimate Christmas ornament


i have always been nuts about cars, motorcycles, etc. ever since i can remember, and i remember every car that not only i have owned but my father's and uncles' cars too i've tried to pinpoint exactly what the emotional attachment is and have only come up with the word escape. i'm not sure what it all means, but cars are an important part of my life.


and this is my favorite of all cars, the Bugatti Veyron. $1.5 million, 0-60 mph in less than 4 seconds, 1000 horspower, W16 Engine - yep, 16 cylinders!
the first time i saw one in person - i wet my pants!

since i can't afford one of those, this is what i'm driving right now -


Infiniti FX35
it's not the Veyron, but i love it...

and the blog? oh yeah, Autoblog.com

check it out...

this is exactly how i'm feeling these days...

i had been searching for the exact words that would describe what i've been feeling lately but Dustin Hoffman's father-in-law said it perfectly -

Actor Dustin Hoffman explains about aging gracefully: "I remember when I hit 60, my father-in-law said to me, 'How do you feel?' I said, 'Well, I accept being middle-aged.' He said, 'Middle-aged? How many people do you know who are 120?' "

my grandmother also had a saying that i've always loved -

The man who said life begins at 40 should have been shot!

and of course there's what i always said to RT -

Life's a bitch and then you die.

and he did. seventeen years ago. he'd laugh everytime i'd say it...

wow! talk about bizarre! today would have been RT's 63rd (?) birthday and it is the 16th anniversary of my father's death.

the mind certainly does work in mysterious ways...

traditions...

Humans rely on tradition, especially when it comes to the holidays. There are things that families do year after year after year that validate the support that we have for each other. I was fortunate enough to have grown up in a fairly large Italian family, though my last name is the most Irish in the world. My father's family was only his parents and his sister. My mother's family came from southern Italy and their were six children born. If your Italian, you know what a large Italian family is like when they are all together. I've since learned from experience that Greek, African-American, and many other cultures are the exact same way.

When I would bring roommates or friends home for Thanksgiving, they invariably would ask if my family was always like that. Like what? Loud! and they would be amazed that I would be just as loud as the rest of my family. Not only that but I would slip into my Sout-zide Chicago accent. It's like an entirely different language.

After Mom and all of my aunts and uncles died, the traditions that my family created and followed basically died with them. I have four cousins but we very seldom see each other and we don't even know where MD is. That's what happens. I still have the traditions and memories in me and like all things family, when I think of them I get a warm rush all over. I'm sure you do too.

I have a very close relationship with my friends Carol, Lorraine, Ed, & Sharon and Ed & Lorraine's son Marco. We have been friends for 40 years. We began working together and more or less created a new family. I spend holidays at Ed and Lorraine's house, with Lorraine's niece and nephews and their kids. Carol & Sharon come after they've spent time with their families. We have day-after the holiday traditions.

The day after Thanksgiving is always the "Great Christmas Tree Hunt." Ed, Marco, sometimes Lorraine's nephew David and if Ed's mother, Thelma, is in town and I climb into Ed's old Caravan and ride for hours to hunt for a Christmas tree. Actually, it's not hours, but if you were to listen to Marco complain about all the wasted time driving so far to get a tree, you'd think that the 12 mile ride was taking hours. We've been doing this since Marco was little. He's now 25! He's not old enough to it admit yet, but he loves it. You'll see that in a picture below.

In addition to the regular trees (there was, until this year one for the family room and one for the living room) Ed insists on finding the ugliest, most unwanted Christmas tree we can find to put on the back porch. [I think it's really for the squirrels, but he would never admit it. He hates squirrels.] The lady at Anthony's Tree Farm called it the Charlie Brown tree. The tree that nobody wants and is left lonely behind in the forest. How sad! I think everybody feels like that tree sometime or other...

Here are a few pictures that either Ed or I took over the weekend - another tradition...


Makai gets turkey-abused. Being only 6-months old, he has no say. Makai, and please don't tell Lorraine I said this, is her great-great nephew.


Manman desperately wanted a radio-controlled car. Of course, if you look closely, he broke the antenna within five minutes.


Usually it takes forever to pick just the right tree. This was on the second try. Never been that fast before...


Marco holding up the Charlie Brown Tree. Told you the smile would be telling.


Ed really does do the Paul Bunyan thing and cuts, err, saws down the tree...


Charlie Brown gets all the loose needles shaken off. You can better see that it is a true Charlie Brown


I normally do not post pictures of myself. I've had a thing about it ever since I read that some Native American tribes would not allow pictures be taken of them because they believed it captured their souls. That, and if you've ever been in Europe, everyone from Tokyo is there and they pull on your sleeve and say, "Picture, picture." as they stand in front of Notre Dame and ruin the view. I can't stand that...
But Makai is what holidays, tradition and family is all about. There are many different kinds of families and no one has the monopoly on family. The battle that has been waging over family for the past several years forgets that everyone, without exception, has a family, is part of a family, and can begin their own family and traditions. I had and have a great family!




now... it's on to Christmas - the celebration of the children... what joys will it bring you?

just asking...

a family rememberance...

I'm not sure how widely known Maxwell Street is in other parts of the country, but in Chicago people still talk about it. It was an institution, especially during the Great Depression, where most people could afford to buy the things they needed. The market was notorious for not just sales but the shenanigans that went on with them. It was filled with characters such as street-hookers, scam artists, immigrants, fair-minded merchants, pickpockets, and an entire gamut of society that would make a great movie.



I remember hearing about Maxwell Street from my family when I was growing up. Most stories were really funny. They needed, as did most people in Chicago at the time, to shop for necessities to survive, as well as amusement, I'm sure.

Like the time Aunt Sarah was walking through Maxwell Street to purchase something. One of the hawkers approached her and quite assertively tried to sell her underwear. Her response was, "I don't wear underwear." This was probably back in the 1930's. You can imagine she not only had a mouth on her but wasn't afraid to use it. I loved her for that as well as much else.

My grandmother, Nu Zina, told the story of going there to buy a pair of shoes for one of my uncles or my grandfather. She picked them out; the salesperson wrapped them in the finest newspaper; and she took them home. When she got home they were both left-foot shoes. I can hear her swearing and cursing in her Italian dialect of Gok in my head right now.

She went back to Maxwell Street and lambasted the man. Of course, she really didn't speak English, so one of my aunts or uncles went with her - probably Aunt Sarah. He relented and gave her another pair.

When she got home she unwrapped the shoes and the epithets spewed forth from her mouth so loud and fast that the whole neighborhood knew what had happened. This time, he gave her two right-footed shoes.

My grandfather had to go back this time. He was afraid she'd kill the guy. He got a right and a left shoe this time. He probably told the guy that, though my Nana was only about 4'9", she'd kick his ass right into Lake Michigan from where he stood on Maxwell Street - a mile away from the lake.

There are many notorious reasons and stories why Maxwell Street is so famous. There is one with which a lot of people around the country would be familiar - Chicago-style Blues.



made even more famous by Jake and Elwood -



These are the types of memories that give Thanksgiving meaning...

hope you're having a great one...

m/