A Junior High School Sense of Humor Monday, February 11, 2008

Apparently, my sense of humor never advanced beyond junior high school because I laughed when I saw this:

I'll bet Jay understands.

Happy New Year Tuesday, January 01, 2008

I just wanted to say happy new year to everyone. 2007 was an incredible year; I can only hope that 2008 will be half as good.

Peace, happiness and prosperity to you all.

Thanksgiving Wednesday, November 21, 2007

I am spending Thanksgiving with my in-laws this year and so will be away from my blog until next week.

I am thankful for many, many things this year.

For my fellow Americans: Be safe, eat well, and enjoy your holiday.

For my non-American readers: enjoy your free health care, strong currency and less-evil leaders.

The Palio Tuesday, September 18, 2007

After a long absence, I have returned. There are several major items I'd like to cover, so I'll just jump right in with a series of posts.

First, of course, is the wedding. The weather was on the big day was gorgeous, Ms. Angel looked beautiful, and I was surrounded by friends and family. It was one of the happiest days of my life.

The honeymoon was incredible. We spent three weeks in Italy: five days in Venice, seven in Tuscany, and eight days in Rome. I suppose the most interesting thing we did was attending the Sienese Palio.

Il Palio (named for the banner given to the winner) is a bareback horse race around La Piazza del Campo that has been taking place every year since at least the 13th century. Each horse represents one of the 17 contrade (districts) of Siena: Tortoise, Wave, She-Wolf, Goose, Shell, Porcupine, Dragon, Owl, Snail, Panther, Eagle, Caterpillar, Unicorn, Ram, Giraffe, Forest and Tower. Some 50,000 people show up each year to watch the race. The prize is bragging rights for your neighborhood, preparations go on all year and celebrations last for weeks following the race. If you want to read more about the Palio and its history, check out "How I Became a Caterpillar" for another person's first-hand account. You can watch the August 16, 2007 Palio on YouTube here.

Ms. Angel and I left the villa early the morning of August 16th so we could stake out a spot in the Piazza. The festivities don't start until 5:00pm, but you have to show up early to stake out a good spot next to the track. It was a test of endurance just to stick to one spot in the hot Italian sun all day. My fair Ms. Angel was under a hat, an umbrella, and SPF 30, and still managed to get a bit sunburnt!

But we met a ton of nice people who were doing the same: a small family of Brits, a French project manager, a group of four older Aussie couples, a pair of young Aussie girls (there were a lot of Aussies in Italy!), as well as some Italian locals. A group of local boys from the Snail contrada wore their red-and-yellow scarves around their shoulders with a picture of their mascot on them. They had staked out a spot by placing an extra snail bandanna along the fence beside our spot. They were angrily reminding the British boy "Nostro posto!" as he was forced to encroach on their spot by the crowds.

The day wore on and the crowds thickened, and eventually, the ceremonies before the race began with the sound of trumpets and drums. There was a parade of costumed representatives from each of the contrade, representing their traditional professions. For example, the Snail contrade's residents from the southwestern corner of the city were traditionally tanners. They wore colored hose and tunics matching the colors of their contrade, and were accompanied by armored men at arms and flag-throwers. Following the contrada representatives was a statue of the Virgin Mary. The boys from the snail contrade feverishly shook their snail bandannas at it as it passed. I think it was for good luck.

This was very cool for the first hour, but I'll be honest: by the twelfth troupe of guys-in-hose...guy-in-armor...guys-with-flags, I was ready to watch a race. But before they took up their position at the traditional rope that marks the starting line, the horses were led around the track. They were lean and wild-looking animals, every one of them walking drunkenly and petulantly. Then they began to assemble to start the race, and fifty thousand people grew quiet. From where I was, I couldn't see too well, but they had several false starts, because one of the horses was so wild, it didn't want to line up. Three times they had to disperse the horses to try and get the unruly one in line. But before you knew it, on the third or fourth try, the race had begun, and the horses flew down the track at blurring speed. On the second lap, two horses flew bodily into the wall, tossing their jockeys like a rag doll. I hoped they were alright, but before I could wonder long, they had flown around the track again. And within two minutes, it was all over. The Unicorn had won. And I had waited about 10 hours in the hot sun for one really lousy picture.

The Palio was an amazing experience just for the pageantry and intensity of experiencing a part of Siena's living history. But the crowd was electric; and it was certainly the most exciting race I had ever seen, once you got past all the guys in tights.

whatever a sun will always sing is you Wednesday, August 01, 2007

This weekend I will be getting married, so I will be away from my blog until the end of August. Hopefully I can get back to posting on a more regular basis once I am back and life has returned to normal.

My life has gone through a remarkable number of changes in the past year, and there are more still to come. It's been a joyous transition in many ways, but still difficult in that I have to now accept that my old life is gone forever. As much as I want and need to move on, it can be hard to do; change is always scary.

But now I have a partner with whom to brave the trials to come. For the first time in my life, I believe in my future, I believe in myself, and I am no longer afraid of what the future holds.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
—E. E. Cummings

Ms. Angel Thursday, June 07, 2007

About a year and a half ago, I met a woman that changed my life. I remember when I first looked into those eyes, there was something almost ethereal in their sheer luminescence. I'll call her Ms. Angel, because I feel like she had been sent to me. And this winter, the most kind-hearted and intelligent woman I have ever met has inexplicably agreed to become my wife.

Our wedding will be on August 4th in Schenectady, New York.

I am the luckiest man in the world.

Dedication Thursday, June 07, 2007

Yesterday was my 33rd birthday, and I spent it in Pennsylvania at my grandfather's funeral. He died over the weekend after a stroke caused massive hemhorraging in his brain. He was 91.

My father's brothers and sisters and a few of my cousings surrounded his bed as my grandmother held his hand. He was struggling for breath. The hemhorraging had gotten so bad that blood was leaking from his nose and his ears. My father was with my mom at a trade show in Las Vegas at the time; my grandmother put the phone to my grandfather's ear so that my father could say his final goodbye long-distance. As my grandmother related the story, his breaths grew further apart and eventually, his breath failed altogether.

This is a man who survived one of the most devestating campaigns of a long and brutal war. A British colony at the time, Malta was the most consistently heavily bombed place on Earth during World War II: 17,000 tons of bombs were dropped on an island smaller than 100 square miles in area over a two and a half year period. The Maltese people were forced to live underground in the ancient catacombs. The bombardment was so bad that the people were dying of starvation and thirst. The allies could not get supplies to the tiny island because of the constant barrage by German bombers.

This is a man who worked three jobs when he first arrived in this country with five young children and a sixth soon to come. They lived in East New York, one of the poorest areas of the city, and struggled to make ends meet. It was my grandfather's unflagging commitment to his family that taught my father a very valuable lesson: life is hard work, and you have to look out for your own. Family is what is most important in this life.

This is a man whose mind had slowly slipped away. For the last five years or so, my grandfather hardly recognized his own grandchildren. He forgot how to speak English, lapsing back to his native Maltese, making it impossible for most of us to understand him. But my grandmother never faltered; she took care of him every day, scarcely leaving his side. And in the final moments, he was holding her hand. At the end of the funeral, my grandmother touched his coffin and vowed to never forget.

My grandparents were together for sixty-six years. He has left behind six children, eighteen grandchildren and ten great-grandchildren.

We can never forget the sacrifices you made for us, Grandpa. Rest in peace.