Wikileaks and Transparency

Wikileaks.

Out of curiosity, I googled...and guess what. Explorer would not let me view the site.

But....I found there is a way to get to the site and I could not believe how easy it was.

There were suggestions for making secret contributions. The clandestine methods are like being in the CIA for heaven's sake, but add up to a really interesting concept.

Transparency.

As Americans and traditionalists, we think of ourselves as free thinkers with unlimited access to information and a constitutional right to free speech.

Well, think again.

I have been studying journalism ethics and we are cautioned to use our abilities in a responsible manner. I wonder if folks realize that Wikileaks is really about transparency.

Speaking out and sharing controversy is nothing new and we are sure it is possible in the United States. But you know, there is a pile of stuff with TOP SECRET stamped all over it. Some of that is relatively benign like what came out in the past two weeks about diplomatic relations among the countries we have been dealing with. One country commented to Secretary of State Clinton that "you should hear what we said about you..." Now that sounds like adults, giggling a bit but not taking things too seriously.

What is serious here is CENSORSHIP.

Since the internet started about 40 years ago, it has been mostly self policed. Now there is a possiblity that things might change due to this "Cyber Gate". I heard that term today but can't remember where so I am unable to attribute, but think it is going to be a term you hear many times in the next weeks.

Wikileaks performs a function. Truth is absolute and truth is good. There is a conviction that popping a blister makes it heal faster. Wikileaks has spent four years as a non profit entity in order to let whistleblowers of all kinds have a platform. Sometimes facts should be made public because revealing them will make society better in the long run.

As a journalist, it makes the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. To think that I would have to avoid stores with cameras, avoid purchasing CD's that can be traced if one wants to use them for filing complaints with WL, to watch for surveillance when preparing documents, choosing a post office that is far from home...on and on....

Whistle blowing or divulging the truth about some entity or issue should be encouraged not censored. The current Wikileaks' discussion really underscores the threat of censoring.

The jury is out on Wikileak, but as the world continues to exploit the details of the current WL scandal, let us not forget that this is really about censorship.

This is not about spreading untruths for malicious intent or personal gain, but rather about sharing truth with the world in order to make it a better place for everyone.

Have a nice day.

Turkey Day

Where has the time gone. Six months since the election and I am feeling the itch to comment on some of the stuffing in our municipal turkey.

Tomorrow is a first for Trenton, at least in recent memory, as the Trenton Thanksgiving Parade winds its way from the State Capitol to City Hall. This could be lots of fun and the weather forcast is sunny and cold. No snow for the trip to Grandmother's house but who cares...maybe Santa/Mack will be at City Hall,

I can't believe I said that. I better concentrate on the other turkey...no pun intended.

Any recipe for stuffing (or dressing if you will) contains a traditional balance of bread crumbs, onions, celery, herbs, and salt and pepper to taste.

Lets start with the traditional crumb stuffing for our turkey...usually this is when opinions pop out about corn bread vs. Italian bread.

Trenton's Trentonian newspaper has been toasting Tony's crumbs so long that they can sop up lots of gravy. Come to think of it, at $100,000 per exec, there may not be enough gravy to go around.

Chopping onions always makes me cry and do they stink. I hate to say it, City Hall does the same thing.

Celery gives the recipe a little crunch and flavor, not unlike the colorful collection of employees that now work in mayoral offices. Usually herbs like parsley and sage flavor the mix, but I think sage (wisdom) is in short supply, judging by the lack of ordinary common sense used to find qualified city staff.

Salt...it is rubbing salt in the raw wounds of taxpayers to keep promising that police, firemen and even dogcatchers will stay working while making some of them quit and other take demotions, knowing that the money issue has not been solved.

It is troubling and a tummy churning dilemma. I hope this holiday does not come off half-baked because I don't have a lot of confidence in the recipe ingredients.

I keep wondering if there is a hidden strategy in Mayor Mack's administration that will pull some of these problems out of the fire. I really hope that something works because ordinary citizens seem to have lost a lot of clout. I hope that city council is able to stay ahead of the issues constantly being tossed their way.

Have a good day.

First Amendment 5K Run-Walk October 2

Picture this, joggers: bright sunny weather and beautiful autumn foliage, a flat well-tended USATF certified course, and free T-shirts to boot. Serious runners and wannabees alike are invited to participate in Mercer County Community College's 5K Run-Walk this first weekend in October.

The address is Mercer County College, 1200 Edinburg Rd., West Windsor, NJ. Coming in from Hughes Drive or Edinburg Road, follow the signs to the Athletic Department on the northeast part of campus.

Registration starts online, but runners can register on location this Saturday, October 2, before the 9:00 a.m.start.

There are going to be trophies and awards of course, but if you are someone who is just out for a good time, consider that your running "costume" might qualify for the "Best Depiction of a First Amendment Right" or "Most Expressive Outfit".

A live DJ is planned for post-race festivities. There will be refreshments, goodies, and T-shirts until the supply runs out. The website suggests that there will be also scavenger hunt postings related to first amendment rights and journalism notes.

The cost for runners is $20 for early registration, $25 the day of the event. If you can put together a team you will qualify for a discount.

Contact information for registration is email: kellysmith369@gmail.com.

Proceeds from this event provides income for journalism supplies and educational opportunities for the staff of MCCC's student newspaper, The Voice.

We take freedom of the press for granted sometimes. It takes an event like this to remind us that we should not take our constitutional liberties for granted.

People rock!

MCCC Aviation Program Flight Fair Benefit

Here it is almost October and I just realized that I have not visited with you folks in a while. I promise to write more frequently. Going back to school is tough enough mentally, but I totally underestimated the physical effort and time management challenges.

One of my assignments for class found me at the Trenton-Mercer Airport today, writing about the upcoming "Flight Fair" to benefit Mercer County Community College's Aviation Program.

Aviation Program?

This seems to be one of New Jersey's best kept secrets. Although flying teams from New Hampshire south respect MCCC competitiveness, efforts are largely unrecognized by local press. These flight students, training through Mercer's aviation curriculum, have won many trophies and championships. We should be darned proud of them.

Mercer's flight school has reportedly produced a Navy Top Gun,military pilots, blimp pilots, State Police pilots, commercial airlines pilots, even banner planes pilots.

The MCCC Flight Fair is held a couple of times a year to raise money by taking visitors on senic flights at a fee of twenty five cents a pound. Folks line up to book a ticket and be weighed, and that determines the charge for the 20 minute ride. There is a minimum of ten dollars, even for kids, and a maximum of twenty five dollars. Actual weights are tactfully kept confidential.

Its sorta like pony rides in the sky...for adults as well as kids.

This year the event is scheduled for Saturday October 2, from 9 a.m. to 4 p.m. Rain date is October 3.

Take 95 to exit 2, Scotch Road, and then follow signs to the airport. The MCCC hangar area is the far side from the terminal area, adjacent to the Ronson hangar.

Come on out and enjoy the airport and visiting with our latest generation of up and coming pilots.

I got such a kick out of a sign hanging in the office,

"Its That Time Again, Please Check For Bird's Nests."

The dispatcher on duty told me that this time of year has a lot of migratory bird activity. Birds coming in from the north set up housekeeping in any part of the airplane that has an opening. So this advice is a real part of preflight check.

Well, its time to move on to another project.

Have a nice day.

Should Witches Pay Taxes?

Here we are almost at the close of another tax quarter. If you are in business for yourself, or pay an accountant to keep your millions out of harm's way, you still march to the rythmn of the taxman.

New Jersey is not alone in struggling to make taxes cover expenses. Governor Christie could use some new ideas for economic stimulus. The following is something out of the ordinary.

The economically challenged country of Romania recently considered taxing witches and soothsayers.

According to an article in the UK Telegraph, Romanian Senators Alin Popoviciu and Christi Duqulescu of the ruling Democratic Liberal Party recently proposed a levy those who charge for occult services.

Of course the witches protested.


The Senate proposal would require them to keep receipts and track their revenues. As if that was not bad enough, the new law would also make witches and fortune tellers subject to fines if their predictions proved false.

Talk about "quality control". This item alone could provide a lot of work for international law litigators. False predictions...might be under the category of laws of commerce?

The Romanian Senate eventually voted the bill down. It is widely assumed that there was fear that the witches would retaliate with a curse.

Romanian Gypsy soothsayers roam throughout Europe. They are colorful and traditional nomads, many still traveling by horse drawn vans. There is a whole breed of horse now known as Gypsy Vanners, gorgeous black and white spotted beasts with flowing hair at their fetlocks. With their caravans and campfires, the Gypsies draw attention in every town they visit. They do odd jobs or tell fortunes, but tales of chicanery and theft follow in their trail.

Recently France stepped up its efforts to expatriate itinerant Gypsies back to Romania. This has been met with protests on both sides but the French Government does not seem to be as intimidated by the threat of the "evil eye" as Romanian Senators.

This is an interesting slant on the news this close to Hallow'een. I will keep you up to date on developments.

Have a nice day.

Taking a Break

The end of August is here.

The sweltering hot days of a record breaking summer are now relieved by cool evenings as the temperature drops down into the fifties or sixties, sure signs of Fall.

Parking lot asphalt still smells oily but the air now also has a hint of smoke. We are almost out of barbecue Sundays. Only two more weekends to go before September swoops down and envelopes us with falling leaves and swirls of Indian Summer.

Labor Day comes later this year, September 6. Most college students started on August 30. For some of us, the more serious endeavors of Autumn are here. If we were back in the country, we would be cutting corn stalks and bringing in the pumpkins.

I have to say it's been interesting. I had quite a season blogging here at the Trentonian, but I think I am going to take a break.

Artfull Codger will still be blogging but not as frequently as before. There will be times, for sure, when Town Hall events prompt a lede and I have to comment, but...

Time is catching up with me so I am looking ahead. I hope to stimulate these aging brain cells and meet new friends. It will be good to see how the rest of the world tackles its issues. A broader point of view comes with the learning process.

Grammy is going back to school.

Yippee!

Stay tuned and wish me luck.

Yep.

Have a nice day.

Cheating? Rules Are For The Other Guy.

It has been drummed into us since we were children to honor our elders, but why? Just because..because seniors and sages are supposed to be wise, law abiding, living examples of the golden rule. That said, I have a hard time with some attitudes here in the capital city of Trenton by folks who should be setting an example.

I am talking about cheating.

Cheating in the capital city of New Jersey?

Puleeze.

Did you know that seventy five percent of Mercer County's non-profits are in the city of Trenton? This makes us kinda top heavy in tax exempt properties, but I was flabbergasted at how many buildings are churches. This must mean we are one of the saintliest cities in the state, perhaps even in the country.

So what would a church be expected to do? Provide guidance. Set moral levels and help those who are marooned or sinking in the morass of the current economy. Churches must be the north star in a moral compass, propping up the complex local society, maintaing a comfort zone for the average resident, while defining the separation of church and state.

Doesn't the Bible say "Render unto Caesar what is Caesar's"?

In a society that has to collect taxes that never seem to meet expenses, why do tax exempt entities exist at all? Well, taxes are waived for those entities whose value in society is helping homeless, addicts, the disadvantaged, those situations not as tangible as police, fire, mayors and clerks.

Has anyone ever considered that city essential services have to be paid for? Not with hat-in-hand monies from Governor Christie, but with licenses, permits, various charges and fees that keep our wheels turning.

Then there is the sense of helping our city. Local requirements and permit regulations for repair to your home or to have a garage sale are based on the expectation that you are helping to carry the freight.

On any given weekend, tables and vendors are scattered throughout the city. Sometimes the stuff is in front of stores, sometimes in front of houses, but they are all accounted for by city ordinances and fee schedules.

The vendors sell everything from mattresses to teddy bears, sneakers to motor bikes. Some are gypsies, many are floaters that change location every week, not in front of their own house, for sure. This is a quality of life issue; sometimes you see someone zipping up his pants and you know that corner of the building is going to stink tomorrow morning.

Trenton has made an effort to regulate the issue by limiting the permits issued for each location and reserving and documenting the date for the inspectors. When you see a rental van with the vendor selling at the tailgate, you wonder if the stuff is stolen. If an inspector were to walk his beat and ticket, he would have to do it a street at a time because it is such a vast problem.

Has anyone ever told these dim-witted knuckleheads that whatever monies are collected for marriage licenses, electrical permits, pedlar licenses, even float rentals and flea market permits, are all part of a complex and very challenging financial picture?

I guess not. Cheating is a way of life.

I wonder sometimes if this a left-over from an attitude that law must be "the Man" and does not apply to whatever "you" want to do. Wake up, you guys. The money that these permit requirements call for help us to run our city.

If parents have the attitude that law-abiding applies only to "the other guy", is it any wonder why we have such problems in the schools and on the streets?

All the parades in the world will not solve this problem if we do not internalize the Golden Rule.

Have a nice day.

News for Rutgers Football Fans

I got a call last week that the Rutgers Knight is going to have a new steed this year.

As you know, the symbol of Rutgers University is the "Scarlet Knight". This romantic tradition comes to life every fall during football season, when the stadium is full of alumni and students, dates clapping and cheering, as a real-life, real-time armored knight inspires fans.

You know that glorious white charger flagging his tail, dashing down the field, carrying the triumphant Rutgers Knight? Well. Let me introduce "Zeus".

I never knew him by any other name, although I am sure he had one, probably Sam or Spotty because he was piebald when I first met him a decade ago. He was shipped on a trailer from somewhere in the middle of the country and, as he clambered down the ramp, the thing that first impressed me was his attitude. He was purported to be a cross between a pinto and a percheron. One look at his head carriage and noble face and I thought of Andalusian or Lippizaner... except for the spots.

He lifted his head and there was the regal look of eagles...but he was marked like a mustang.

He snorted like a stallion, loud "woofs" from his nostrils. He had been gelded but that apparently was not going to stop him from showing off for the other horses as he pranced down to the barn. He was not as tall as the 17 hand thoroughbreds already in the field, but his nicely balanced deep body, good straight shapely legs and a crested neck made him look like a heavy set Arabian...with big black patches.

That first week was a challenge. He was so strong all he had to do was walk up to a fence and lean on it until it collapsed. There was real danger that he might teach the other horses to crash fences as well. It was necessary to string paddocks with electric wire to stop him, and soon all the horses knew when the fences were "live". With that settled, the piebald started to pay attention to people.

Eventually Zeus became a part of a family that included a momma, poppa, two little girls, pony, dog, cat and three other horses. He learned the basics, walk-trot-canter (simple, my dear Watson) and then proudly took his policeman rider on long trail rides with the rest of the family.

He learned to jump. He took to fences like they were not even there. Then the worry was that he might jump out of his paddock like the fabled Snowman, but thankfully that never really became a problem. Besides the whole family would ride to hounds and as one huntmaster said, "That whole family, even the pony, rides hell-bent to leather!".

The family toured Valley Forge and rode on horseback through the historic battlefields. Visiting with friends, they rode to hounds in the Carolinas. Zeus and his policeman boss even led family trail rides into the waves at Long Beach Island. Zeus loved his new life.

As the years went by, his coat lightened and spots roaned out so he seemed to be one silver white color. You could see black patches as changes in his coat when he was bathed and his hide was wet, but he appeared white. Lippizaners are born bay or dark colors and become snowy white as they age; perhaps he carried their noble genes after all. That could also explain his attitude and ability.

Zeus went to many horse shows as the mount for both girls. He learned the finer points of dressage and the championship ribbons covered bedroom bulletin boards and the walls of the tack room. An enormous photo of him jumping a fence even hung in one of the meeting rooms of the historic Clarksburg Inn before its recent devasting fire.

One of my favorite Zeus memories is of watching him one glorious day in Maryland. This white Pegasus streaked over the cross country course, long silver tail streaming like a banner over each jump, as he confidently carried my 14 year old granddaughter to many, many ribbons. He was magnificent.

This year one of the girls graduated high school and was off to college. Now there were too many horses in the barn so Zeus became a companion horse, enjoying semi-retirement with a local stable of horse-smart people... because, after all, he was not just a backyard horse.

And then suddenly out of the blue, through the grapevine, a college recruiter for Rutgers heard about Zeus. His resume was impressive so he was interviewed, just like anyone trying to get into college or get a job. The contact was made... and the rest is history.

So if you go to the Scarlet Knight's stadium at Rutgers this fall, breathe in that river air, scented with mum corsages and popcorn. Take a really big breath so you can bellow out a lusty cheer for our latest college freshman....er...freshman-horse.

"Zeus!"

"Zeus!"

"Zeus!" Yeah, Rutgers!

Horses rock.

Quentin Keynes: Our Darwin Connection

I was scooping out dark corners of my apartment over the weekend, determined to fill garbage bags in a pre-fall cleanup campaign, when I happened upon my chunk of petrified wood. As I regarded it in the afternoon sun, it reminded me of the man who gave it to my husband and me as newlyweds, Quentin Keynes, III.

My husband met Quentin Keynes when he was a student at St. Andrews School prep school for boys in Middletown, Delaware. Quent was a self described African explorer and the great-great-grandson of Charles Darwin. He was very tall, about six feet four or five inches, blonde or light brown hair brushed over Donald Trump-wise. He stooped sometimes and I seem to remember one arm was a bit withered, perhaps a left-over from a bout of polio. He spent his summers in Africa chasing elephants and photographing wildlife for the National Geographic Magazine. In the winter, he went back to the States and toured various prep schools and venues showing his slides and lecturing on his adventures. As if this was not enough to fascinate his young audience, he also owned a Jensen car.

My husband was fascinated by anything mechanical, especially automobiles. This Jensen was made by the same company as Jaguar but was more valuable because there were limited numbers produced each year. I cannot recall precisely but it was very limited, like sixty per year... At any rate, Quent was thrilled to have his car serviced for free and ended up leaving it with my husband's family during the summer time he was touring Africa on safari with his paying schoolboy charges. When they all returned in the fall for the next lecture circuit, he dropped in, picked up his car and set up his next visit.

This was the arrangement for years until my husband and I set up housekeeping. Much to my surprise, even after we married and started a family, Quent presented himself on our doorstep to stay for several days until his next lecture engagement. Then he would take his marvelous one of-a-kind car off on the tour du jour.

In the Victorian era, persons of repute frequently drifted from one household to another with their welcomes predicated on principles of hospitality and the novelty of having a celebrity houseguest. Attitudes changed however and in the sixties and seventies this celebrity became a bit of a nuisance.

I remember once, in an effort to impress this sophisticated Englishman, I pan fried trout for breakfast and served up biscuits, home-made preserves, home canned tomato juice...and he complained he was still hungry so I went back and cooked eggs, skillet potatoes, then oatmeal as a chaser. He did not care much for my version of porridge but ate it anyway.

We had moved recently to a larger home and now had a guest room. We were quite pleased to be able to give him some privacy. The next morning he came thundering down the front stairs of our small colonial and sputtered,

"My laces are gone! Your cat ate my shoes, my laces are destroyed!" He shook his suede shoes at us and exclaimed,

"They were brand new. What am I going to do?"

This was the era of Pat Boone and blue suede shoes were still popular although I think this pair was tan. Before the day was out, his rawhide laces that must have tasted pretty good to the cat, were replaced by conventional braided ones.

Quentin Keynes continued his visits up through the seventies. He left a huge trunk with us that was filled with notes, letters, even a metal sign that had marked the border of Kenya. Africa was changing. Quent's photography was not selling enough to support him and his novelty lectures were waning in popularity. His stories now mentioned the "monkey fever" that seemed to be mysteriously killing people. That later was identified as AIDS and would spread throughout the world.

Sometime in this decade, he showed up with a friend and managed to load up all his belongings in a single trip. As they drove down the driveway I confessed to my husband to having mixed feelings. By now we had two children and a business to run so there was not much time for hosting guests like our Englishman. He replied,

"I wonder if we will ever see him again. Probably not." We were concerned because Quent was showing the toll of years of exposure to the disease and strife in Africa.

Quent became a bittersweet part of the past and recently I found out that he passed away in Connecticut in 2003. His obituary did not give a cause of death but it was June, and, in another time he would have been off to Africa for the summer safari...but at 82 when he died, I like to think he had settled down.

Quentin Keynes represented a cross between the Darwins and the Wedgewoods that produced many scientists, writers, philosophers, doctors, politicians. One uncle was Lord Keynes, the famous economist, another was Physician to the Queen. Even today there is a Keynes at Cambridge University. I have a very old brown earthenware type cup and saucer stamped Wedgewood and I wonder if that came from Quent. Both Quent and my husband are now gone so I guess I will never be sure.

Now it's back to cleaning up the corners of my life and dusting off some more memories. Isn't that what seniors are all about?

Have a nice day.

Mercer County Senior Art Contest Winners

Mercer County will be handsomely represented in the State finals for the New Jersey Senior Art Show in October. Awards for 2010 were presented in ceremonies at Meadow Lakes, East Windsor, New Jersey on Friday, August 13 on what turned out to be a lucky day for nine artists and artisans.

The Best In Show award went to a watercolor of turkeys by Elizabeth Peck entitled "US Senate". It was a viewer favorite and well deserved the honors. Needless to say, it also won first place in watercolors so it is going on to finals.

First place in acrylics went to "Lake Drive" by Pearl Busch. Her painting was vivid in those colors possible only in acrylics. Good choice.

Ronald LeMahieu's ceramic breadbasket entitled "The Loon" was wonderful in its shape and texture. At first glance, it appeared to be constructed of bottle caps, but then a closer look at the many segments revealed its complexity. Its first place moves it to the State finals.

Ming Ji won first place in drawing for her black and white "Forested Mountain". The size of the composition was remarkable and is a sure hit for the October show.

Jackie Wouwenberg's "Nantucket Cottage" was a water color accented by inks and placed first in the mixed media category. This is going to be an interesting entry for October because mixed media can mean any variety of paint combinations and this work is strong enough to hold up to potential competition.

First place in oils went to Norman Fesmire's "Movin' On", a sailboat soaring over the sea. Now it is "movin' on" to finals.

Photography had enough entries for both a professional and non-professional category. First place for the professionals went to Tito Cascieri for "Standing Tall: Navarro California Redwood, 2000 Years Young". First place for non-professionals went to Janie Montervino for "Hidden".

County Mention Awards were awarded as follows:

Acrylic: Beth K. Wham, "Tear Drop Lake"

Craft: Robert Kendall, "Night Flight"

Drawing: Luba Model, "Persian Capbearer"

Mixed Media: Mary S. Johnson, "Meeting in November Woods"

Photography: Walt Varan, "Lifeline"

Oil: Lina Chao, "Africa"

Watercolor: Stephan Marusky, "Still Life"

Our congratulations to the winners and to everyone at the Office of Aging, Division of Culture and Heritage, Meadow Lakes and to all the volunteers who made this event such a success. In a time of belt tightening, this was unexpectedly delightful and well presented. Special thanks to the Mercer County Officials who attended the awards and helped with the acknowlegements of the artists' achievements.

Yesss.

People rock!

Peanut Butter Thursday's "Mack Attack"

Here it is, that time of week again. Peanut butter and jelly Thursday and here I am having a "Mack Attack". That is not to be confused with that big M sandwich of a similiar name....

I had cereal for breakfast, not that you really care, but with so many things on my plate today it seemed like a good way to save time. Now it is lunch time and I am kinda zoned out dreaming of food...

Lettuce, onion, pickle on a sesame seed....

Ha! The only lettuce we see today is strictly the imaginary green stuff. Money, money, money. Come to think of it, our latest generation of township business administrator was a lawyer from Atlantic City or thereabouts who came on board the Mack transition team (at no pay) and stayed to carry on for Bill Guhl....until his firm was in line for a no-bid contract for legal services right up to this week's Council meeting whereapon Mayor Mack opined it would be "foolish" to award the $50,000 plus contract to the Atlantic City firm of Cooper Levenson. I think we are now looking for the next generation of township administrator...

Onion...ahhh fresh pungent sliced onion that makes you weep. Just like this present City Hall. Not only does it make you cry, but the smell just does not go away.

Pickle...c'mon do you really think we are in a pickle? Not only have we been heat cured but now the salty shenanigans of our duly elected representatives have us in a perilous position where Her Clerkness, Ms. Staton, may sue Mayor Mack for a job she got used to, if only for a couple of weeks, and that is going to be defended at our expense. How 'bout that. She works, he squawks, she walks, he crows...and we are all going to pay the attorney fees. At least the Atlantic City guys are out of the picture...or are they going to sue His Honor too?

Sesame seed. The only sesame we have here is wishful thinking as in,

"Open Sesame!"

And we are, all waiting for that magical mountain to crash open and divulge glowing streams of golden funding Federal-wise and treasure chests of silver spilling out of our sterling State bonanza. Ahhh. Right about now we cannot get this genie back into his bottle.

I cannot believe that this new Mayor has been in office a matter of weeks and already we have become front page news for almost every minute of that time. The election was the middle of June and it is only August 12.

Fox news tonight happened to cover Camden luncheon costs for the Delaware Valley Port Authority. I have to check my notes but I think that was the group...and they were running over $400.00 for sandwiches to discuss development in Camden. I am not commenting on their business concerning development in the city of Camden instead of their care of Delaware bridges and ports. But their menu charges? If they were having peanut butter and jelly, even if they had croissants instead of whole wheat, they could have saved 75 percent, including tips.

Mr. Christie....Governor Christie, let's put it in the Constitution. Make every Thursday "Peanut Butter and Jelly Thursday" for all State Business!

People rock.

Hambletonian Made the Day

Saturday was a perfect August day, hot and sunny, air like a feather... even if it started at 4:30am. I was traveling with a group of horsemen who were invited to participate in the Hambletonian's opening activities, and it felt like a country fair.

We were assigned stabling with several mounted police groups and other non-racing entities. The walk from the barns to the paddock area of the grandstand had to be almost a mile, pleasant enough with inviting brick-lined walkways shaded by tall trees for a country fair effect. Add hot dog vendors, beer, pretzels and hordes of people in lawn chairs and you get a hopeful feeling that maybe racing has a future.

I soon found a spot in the paddock in some shade, opened my Hambletonian program, sipped my beer, and watched people and horses with a degree of contentment. I met a cute blonde lass who looked about 20, who told me that the Hambletonian was so honored in her native Denmark that on the day of the Hambletonian, all racing would be suspended from that 3 to 4pm slot until the USA broadcast was over.

"All racing stops".

She was at the Hambletonian as an assistant trainer to Jimmy Takter. I commented that I saw where he had trained three horses that were all running in the big race. Quite an accomplishment in this day and age. She agreed and invited me to visit the stables in Monmouth County. I accepted, of course.

Later in the afternoon, I scanned the list of assistant trainers in the racing program and spotted a name that looked like it might be Swedish or Danish. I made a note of the horse, number 6, and turned my thought to other things like the woman standing behind me now in the paddock.

Let me mention here, that I find if you are in a walker or wheelchair, it breaks the ice. Sometimes people are awkward, sometimes they turn away, but for the most part, being disabled is mainstream now and most people have a comfort level dealing with it. Even one of the track employees, in his sixties I'd guess, spent several of his breaks chatting with me.

Now this quietly well dressed lady standing at my elbow struck up a conversation. Her name matched her down to earth appearance,... Miller. I looked her up later and she and her husband, Larry W. Miller were from Springport, Indiana. She told me that she and her husband had a small barn and had been involved with racing for about ten years. When I asked her if they were racing today, she told me that it was easy to remember,

"Horse number 8 in the eighth race. His name is Mercedes but we call him Duke. Eight in 8...easy to remember."

I was still chuckling at that when my son-in-law dropped by and asked if I would teach my gorgeous grandaughter, who just turned 18, how to bet horses. She was one of the original riders who thought the Meadowlands was going to be just "Ho-Hum and So Boring" but had succumbed to the music of the Nerds, the awesome crowds and young horsey males milling about.

I told him that anyone who bets on horses is nuts...but that I could help her read the program, at least. Then, as an afterthought, I said,

"Oh, yeah, maybe that number 6 in the Hambletonian."

Well to make a long story short, number 6, Muscle Massive by Muscles Yankee, trained by Jimmy Takter, driven by Ron Pierce, won the Hambletonian. That is the 84th running of the most prestigious race in trotting history...

Yep.

'Nuff, said.

And I don't bet on horses. Who knew?

Turns out that earlier that morning everyone in the horsemen's group had been looking for a quick escape home after the parade. After their commitment was over, all they wanted to do load up horses and boogie. That was... until...they found out that they were having heck of a good time! Most of our group did not start back until well after 4pm in the afternoon. That is a full day.

Now if Meadowsland track management can take some of this successful Hambletonian atmosphere and bottle it, maybe this Eau de Succcess will convince Governor Christie that this industry is truly worth saving. There were thousands of people in the grandstands, paddock, and lawn area.

The country fair venues of the Meadowlands and the family barbecue areas of Monmouth Racetrack should give Governor Christie an encouraging glimpse of how family friendly this sport can be. The betting areas are far enough from the fair activities that gambling can be managed and secured.

Personally, I would like to see slot machines at the track because there are some gamblers who find the intervals between races boring. The income from slot machines will mean larger more profitable purses for horsemen. The State subsidies now carrying horsemen could be backed off to free up money for other areas in the State budget. Also, if the same 8 percent gross revenue tax, dedicated to seniors and the disabled (which now pays for nutrition programs, transportation, PAAD and Senior Gold prescription programs)were in place, it would be consistent with the present NJ Constitution.

One of the horsemen told me that the Governor is hoping that the Standardbred Breeders in New Jersey might buy the Meadowlands. Now that is not a bad idea if they can get financing. Has anyone thought of combining them with a casino entity like Harrah's which has casinos in many states? It does not seem fair that over $171,000,000 in tax credits has been bandied about for rescuing a dead fish like Xanadu when harness racing so obviously has a popular base already in place.

You do not have to bet to have a great time...and I had a ball.

Have a nice day.

Mayor Mack: Clever or Clueless?

I was greeted yesterday morning by a friend who wanted to know if I had seen the front page of the Trentonian. "Tony Mack In Foreclosure" was not that much of a surprise.

I commented several times in the past election season that I was concerned about turning over the books of this city to someone who apparently could not even balance his checkbook. Money troubles have dogged His Honor for years, but he never gave up his goal of becoming this city's mayor.

It is too simplistic to say that he ran because he had a grudge with Doug Palmer. Admittedly there was a lot of troubled water under that bridge, but they had an amicable transfer of power.

The present appointments in this regime are being questioned on many fronts. I spoke to Tony Mack several times when he visited here at Pellettieri Homes and had an opportunity to point out the need to change the face of this city to the world, the need to help felons back into society, even expounded on the need to sell the outlying parts of the city water company.

I see now where Eric Jackson is working as an assistant at the water company. Tony had the smarts to put him under Bill Guhl's wing for several weeks to give him a taste of the city administration. When he transferred him to the water company, this gave Tony an opportunity to get Eric's input on the real status of the financial headaches of that organization and maybe set some real-time goals.

I am hoping that this outsider viewpoint will help Tony,the Mayor, make some informed decisions about this albatross around the city's neck. I have known of several towns who thought that the maintenance of pipes and meters, replacement of aging structures, so burdensome that they sold their whole kit and kaboodle for $1.00 to anyone who could take over the problems.

As to the appointment of Mr. Badger to housing and development duties: Unless this chap is presently involved in skulduggery, let's give him a chance. The real estate licensing authority saw fit to let him be active to date. When does this society forgive and let felons who serve their time back into the real world? Also, we have a Republican Governor with a prosecutorial background just a few doors down in the State House who will be peering at this administration with a magnifying glass.


If there is something amiss, the Trentonian will sell a lot of papers. And that brings me to one of the most important issues facing us today. What does the rest of the world think of us? Do you really think that these headlines are going to bring tourist and business dollars into our economy?

We have to turn down the smarmy opportunists who are hovering like vultures. We must have an honest administration. Having financial problems can be a result of bad investments, bad luck or just plain stupidity but are not necessarily indicative of illegal activities. Throughout the city's history, some of her most successful characters were charismatic frauds and speculators, with suckers drawn to them like moths to a flame.

Let us hope that this administration is different.

Have a nice day.

Mercer County Seniors Art Show

The combined efforts of almost a hundred exhibitors, the Mercer County Office on Aging, and the Division of Culture and Heritage have once again proved a winning combination.

Entries for the 2010 show are now being exhibited at the Meadow Lakes complex at 300 Meadow Lakes, East Windsor. This is the grounds of the Springpoint Foundation and truly a spectacular venue for the variety of entries.

Visitors may call at Meadow Lakes from 10:00 am to 4:00 pm weekdays until the last day of show, August 13. Groups of six or more are asked to call with 24 hour notice, so as not to disturb the elderly residents of Meadow Lakes. The closing reception is Friday, August 13, from 1:30pm to 3:30pm, after which paintings may be removed to take home.

The classifications of entries for this year's show were well attended for the most part. The variety and quality of the art and artists is a warm reminder that Mercer County harbors more than one candidate for the Grandma Moses crown.


Hope to see you all for the reception on the 13th...

Art rocks!

Goldsmith Maid: "Queen of the Trotters"

Goldsmith Maid was born in 1857 in the shadows of the Kittatiny Mountains of Sussex County. Her owner, John B. Decker of Deckertown, named his new filly "Maid", a good one syllable name for a potential work horse. She was a handsome bay with no white points but never grew taller than 15 1/4 hands, (61 inches high at the withers). She was described as being "wiry" and even "tucked up" towards her hind quarters, but pleasant enough to look at, especially with nostrils flared and the fierce look in her eyes.

Her dam, known as "Old Ab" after her sire Abdallah, was sweet and docile. Decker bred Old Ab to Alexander's Abdallah,(formerly known as Edsall's Hambletonian), who was sired by Rysdyk's Hambletonian, also a grandson of Abdallah. Horsemen refer to this inbreeding as line breeding. John B. Decker was hoping for a farm horse, but this breeding gave him a fire cracker.

According to an account by John Dimon in the November 29, 1877 edition of the "Cultivator and Country Gentleman", Maid was "nervous and fretful" and a "wayward child". Once when farmer Decker tried to hitch her to a harrow, she reared up, tangled herself in the harness, and threw herself in a tantrum. She was lame for quite a while after that.

About once a month, possibly coming into season, she would get loose and gallop for a visit over the neighboring farms and fields. She was skilled at clearing fences, streams, ditches, everything in her path, plowed fields or whatever, finding her way home after six to eight miles of the grand tour only to land back in the same field where she started. This burst of spirit and energy would hold her for a while and then it would be off to the neighbors' corn fields again.

This was 1863, the time of the "great rebellion", and horses were in short supply for the army. Mrs. Decker was so annoyed at the problem mare that she prevailed on her husband to sell Maid to one of these recruiters staying with them overnight. In the dawn, the deal was struck for $260.

Well, the next morning traveling down the road, the poor chap realized he had more than he bargained for. When a neighboring farmer, Mr. Thomkins, stopped him on the road and expressed interest, he happily resold the filly for $360.

Mr. Thomkins tried to drive her but she was too much horse for him and he found her gaits "dangerous". He sold her "in trade" to Alden Goldsmith of Blooming Grove in Orange County, New York for $600 in cash and a second hand buggy.

Her new owner changed her name to Goldsmith Maid and turned her over to his driver, William Bodine, who must have been the 1800's version of a horse whisperer. He saw that the 8 year old mare was unbroken and also had a troubling upper respiratory infection. Bodine figured out that this mare had to set her own pace. She hated being encumbered so they worked her without check reins, martingale, blinders or a whip. This meant she could finally work and breathe unimpeded. Thus a compromise was struck. The mare responded and it was like harnessing lightning.

Goldsmith Maid trotted her first race in August 1865, won some local races, and then set track records in Goshen, New York (a mile in 2 minutes 26 seconds in three heats), and a record in Mystic Park racetrack in boston in 1868 with the time of 2:21 1/2.

It was a shame that her career started so late. She was broken at the age of 8, raced brilliantly for three years, and now Goldsmith realized that as an 11 year old she was running out of time.

In 1868 she was sold again to Budd Doble from Trenton, New Jersey for $20,000. He was the son of Willian H. Doble who kept Trenton's Eagle Hotel and had five sons who were all horsemen and drivers. This was the beginning of the Trenton connection.

Doble raced Goldsmith Maid for another six years, winning races from Buffalo to Sacramento, California. He was the PT Barnum of this horse era, fitting a private custom railroad car for Goldsmith Maid, advertising appearances and making a lot of money. Maid was immensely popular with the American public, appearing in match races with locals' top horses and even making it to Currier and Ives popular prints.

Budd Doble maintained his horse business at the site of the Trenton Fairgrounds. There was a mile track, grandstands, stables and several fields of hay and grain. In early 1870's, he became involved with Henry N. Smith, the financier with a love for horseflesh. Smith had stables in New York and started buying up land in the Trenton area with the idea of setting up a premium horse breeding operation.

In 1873, there was a terrible fire at the stables, now known as the Fashion Stud Farms, and Doble managed to save Goldsmith Maid. Nine other horses, including two road-mares owned by President Ulysses Grant, were killed. A year after this setback Goldsmith Maid was sold for reportedly $35,000 to Henry N. Smith.

For the last years of her career, her glory days, she defended her title with Budd Doble driving. Her record of a mile in two minutes and 14 seconds held for some time. She earned a total of $364,200 in her career and that record would hold for almost a hundred years, until the 1950's.

She died suddenly on September 23, 1885 at the age of 28. She had developed pheumonia in an age before antibiotics, and an autopsy showed she had an enlarged heart. She was buried on the grounds of Fashion Stud Farms and her monument is in Hamilton Township at Kuser Park.

If you go to one of the Hamilton Township Sunday night concerts under the stars at the gazebo in Kuser Park, look over at the tennis courts. Look where the elbow of the driveway meets the Mansion's service road, where those flowers have been so carefully planted. That engraved granite marker is her public's monument to the forever free-spirited and famous Goldsmith Maid.


Trenton rocks.

History Makes The Case For Racing In New Jersey

In one week's time, New Jersey will be privileged to enjoy one of horse racing's premier events, the Hambletonian. This horse race is one of trotting's Triple Crown, on a par with Thoroughbred Racing's Kentucky Derby.

You have that right. New Jersey is the host of "The Hambletonian"!!!

The Hambletonian is going to be run next Saturday, August 7, 2010. The gates at the Meadowlands open at 9:30am and the first race post time is at 11:35 am. If Governor Christie continues on his present course, harness racing in New Jersey is an endangered species so experience it while you can. This Hambletonian could be New Jersey's last.

The Meadowlands Race Track was designed for harness racing. I remember the first time they talked about bringing in flat racing and how they would have to change the track material and grade, etc. to accomodate Thoroughbreds. This is a wonderful venue with a home stretch that just seems to go on forever. It means that harness horses get a chance to have that heart-stopping duel in front of the whole grandstand and noone has a bad seat. I invite you to come out for what could be the final year for this milestone in New Jersey's history.

The three preliminary eliminations for the Hambletonian race have already been run and there is now a field of ten horses qualified to compete for harness racing's most prestigious crown. As I understand it, the top three finishers of each of the three heats qualifies, in addition to the one fourth place finisher who has the top lifetime earnings. That makes up the field of ten who finally race in the Hambletonian.

There are two reasons I am writing about this today. One is that I love horses and the threat of losing one of New Jersey's most vital and historic industries to some cockeyed economy move by our present governor just sends me up a wall. The other is that there is a wonderful feeling of connection to something in our traditions, threading through the fabric of our present, but atoms and molecules of what make us "Trenton now".

The history of the Hambletonian goes back to the very origins of the standardbred horse itself. In the 1724 the Goldolphin Arabian arrived in England, with his mute groom as the story goes, and crossed with the native English mares to produce the very beginnings of the Thoroughbred horse. In 1780 a 15.3 hands grey by the name of Messenger was foaled. His sire was Mambrino, great grandson of the Goldophin, and his dam was the "Turf Mare", also a great grandaughter of the Goldophin.

Fast forward to 1849 and the foaling of Hambletonian 10, by Abdallah out of the Charles Kent Mare. Abdallah was extensively inbred, or "line bred". His sire and dam both had Messenger as grandsire. The Kent mare was descended from Messinger, and her great grandsire and great grand dam were also by Messenger. With those concentrated Arab genes, the Hambletonian was destined to be a gorgeous horse, maybe not when he was foaled, but as he grew up...oh my.

Hambletonian 10 was foaled May 5, 1849, in New York State. The owner of his dam was Jonas Seeley, who bought the Charles Kent mare from his butcher. She was crippled, used only for breeding, so not much was expected of the cross to Abdallah since the stallion was reportedly both ugly and nasty. As expected, Hambletonian was rather nondescript as a youngster, but Seeley's hired hand, William Rysdyk, saw something special. He persisted until he finally convinced Seeley to sell him the dam and foal for $125.

As is still done today, young trotters start their careers in Goshen, New York. Hambletonian was shown, probably in hand, at the age of six months at the Orange County Fair in Goshen. He covered (bred) his first mares at the age of two, not always a good idea because the young studs don't always want to go back to real work after having a taste of the ladies, but he was only allowed four mares by his savvy owner.

By 1852, he was trained well enough to compete against another Abdallah son, Abdallah Chief, hitched to "skeleton wagons" at Long Island's Union Course. Hambletonian won but had to run against the clock in a second race and, at that time, the youngster clocked 2:55 1/2. After this huge success, Rysdyk placed the stallion at stud for fees that reached $500 at times. This was in the 1800's so that was a significant amount of income.

Hambletonian sired 1,331 foals during his career in the breeding shed, (and traveling). Rysdyk loved his stallion and made a small fortune from him before he passed on in 1870. Hambletonian outlived him, living to the age of ripe old horse age of 27, and died in 1876. Both were buried in Chester, New York and local folk placed a granite monument over the grave on Hambletonian Avenue as a tribute to their memory.

The present day Hambletonian was set up as the ultimate test of trotters. Although Standardbreds today race as either pacers or trotters, this event is open only to trotting horses and carries the name of it's most prominent sire in tribute.

According to the Harness Racing Hall of Fame, Hambletonian bloodlines have squeezed out most of the other contributors to the Standardbred breed. Messenger and the other early ancestors were registered as Thoroughbreds or cold blooded "grades". Standardbred, as a separate breed, evolved later, after requiring that all candidates for registration meet the "Standard" of trotting a mile in two minues thirty seconds. When a horse met the standard, it qualified to become a Standardbred.

Before the era of automobiles, owning a Morgan trotting horse was like having a roadster instead of a minivan. Morgan bloodlines competed with the Throughbred breeding and many races were set up between favorite horse celebrities. One was the famous Ethan Allan (Morgan) vs. Dexter (Messenger). Ethan Allan won the first and then it was Dexter's turn. That was the pattern of the future. Morgan prestige and influence was eclipsed by the taller Messenger trotters. Their longer strides and tremendous ability won races and they eventually took over the Standardbred breed bloodlines.

There is a Trenton connection to the Hambletonian traditions and I discovered it quite by accident. I enjoy stopping at the Kuser Park in Hamilton to eat my lunch, sitting under the shady trees and enjoying the view of the Kuser mansion and broad grounds. On one of these visits, I spotted an engraved granite oblisk surrounded by many carefully tended flowers. Getting closer with my reading glasses, I read that it was a memorial to Goldsmith Maid.

"Goldsmith Maid. The Queen of Trotters for Seven Years". The inscribing continues,

"Born Sussex County 1857, Died Here Sept 23, 1885. Best Record 2.14, Made at Boston 1874. Earned $364,200, the World's Record. Driven By Budd Doble, Owned By Henry N. Smith". I had to learn more about this because there is no evidence of a track or barns within the area of the granite slab.

A world famous trotter here in Trenton? Who knew.

After many hours of research and printing obscure newspaper articles from the New York Times, the Atlantic Reporter, and even the 1877 Cultivator and Country Gentleman, I have put together a dilly of a yarn about Goldsmith Maid. She deserves some time to herself so I will wrap this up now.

The Hambletonian race is being held next Saturday. For a glimpse into the past and a chance to help the equine industry in New Jersey, make a trip to the Meadowlands for this great event. It usually is not an expensive outing, not like Atlantic City, because there are no slot machines as yet. There are restaurants and other attractions for the holiday that make it worth the trip.

Let yourself back in time and imagine the country fair atmosphere, the stands full of straw hats and cotton gowns, the band music and smells of popcorn and horse sweat. The start of this race is different from flat racing. Thoroughbreds enter a gate and then leap out at a bell. Standardbreds start trotting as soon as they enter the track. There is the drama of the post parade, as the horses settle into their gaits, until they are all in a row...and then,

"They're off!"

The time it takes the field to make the circuit of the Meadowsland track is a lifetime. I have seen crashes, buggies so close that they tangle wheels and one comes off, horses running up on each other, dreadful races where the winner is the last one left trotting...and yet nothing compares to that streak of sheer speed drumming down the track, stands full of cheering patrons stomping so hard you think the grandstand will fall down. There is nothing like standing at the finish line as the horses and sulkies come thundering down, whips snapping and spit flying, to cross that invisible beam of light that records the winner.

Whew!

This is not a video game; this is the real thing.

Have a nice day.

Bear Steak Anyone?

The New Jersey Division of Fish and Wildlife notes that the current bear census numbers almost 3,500 in 2010. Black bear have been spotted in all 21 counties in sufficient numbers to support a hunt. As a result, the Division of Fish and Wildlife are going to have a bear season this upcoming December. Pregant sows start denning in October or November so active animals in December will likely be boars.

New Jersey has the most people per square mile in the United States. The resulting demand for agriculture and building development took wildlife habitat and there was just not enough room for bear who can range as much as forty miles. Bear hunting was suspended in 1971, research commenced to bring back their numbers, and they became a protected species.

I had mixed feelings about the announcement of this current hunting opportunity. At this point I do not know if a lottery for permits is involved, but there is a wisp of memory that supports hunting.

Years ago, I was visiting my girl friend who lived on a farm at the foot of one of the Kittatiny Mountains. We sat at the kitchen table playing with the farm dogs and enjoying the warmth from the wood stove. Her mom had a platter of steaks and slid them into the hot cast iron skillet. As they spit and sizzled she invited me to stay for lunch. The smell from the frying meat was too strong for beef. We had milked the goats and they seemed to be all accounted for...so what was in the pan?

It was bear.

Her brother and father went up the mountain looking for deer and happened on the bear and you ate game if you shot it.

Hunting was a privilege in those days and a sport in the tradition of our ancestors. My mom and dad even had matching shotguns with custom fitted stocks. New Jersey does not permit rifle hunting so they had invested in custom shotguns. Everyone in our family participated. To this day I can clean fish, skin and butcher anything for the pot, from squirrel to venison. Bear meat in the frying pan didn't seem unusual.

Flash forward to 2010. I was talking to my daughter just last week and she told me a story that I want to share with you.

Earlier this month, she was enjoying a day at the shore when her cell phone rang. Her next door neighbor was on the phone, so agitated that my daughter said she could hear her gasping for breath and her heart pounding right over the phone.

The neighbor was calling from my daughter's house to report a home invasion by a black bear sow and two cubs. From from her kitchen window's line of sight overlooking my daughter's house and driveway, she could everything the bear did to get into the house.

The sow and cubs were neighborhood visitors since March. At first they were neighborhood darlings, cute as the dickens. Everyone took pains not to feed birds, keep garbage in bearproof cans, not to leave food in cars, and keep pets inside. As the cubs grew, the mother bear taught them everything she knew...and that included the finer points of "Breaking and Entering". "B&E" is the common term that residents in the know use when reporting an incident to the DFW.

This time was heart-stopping.

The sow approached the garage and stopped at the screen window next to the first garage door. Like a careful handyman, she stood up on her hind legs, put a paw on each side of the window, and lifted the screen off. She pivoted and put it down meticulously. Then she went back to the window and climbed in.

As the bear's furry butt disappeared into my daughter's house, the neighbor rushed over to stop the ransacking. She entered through the upper level of the house and then ran down the steps to the ground floor garage area to confront the bear.

As she opened the inside door to the garage, she yelled and screeched at the top of her lungs. She could reach the automatic garage door opener without actually going into the garage, which gave her a degree of protection, and began beating her cane on anything and everything that would make noise.

I don't know if she actually hit the bear, but she reported later that there was a surreal aspect to the whole scenario. She looked out past Momma Bear at the cubs on the macadam driveway. The agitated cubs were going from one side of the driveway to the other, each one on a side, crossing and making diagonals with each other like they were in a maypole dance. In spite of years of observation, she could not recall seeing this behavior before.

The first phone call was to 911 to make the emergency bear report and then the call to my daughter, hitherto enjoying a day at the ocean. Eventually the Department of Fish and Wildlife would decide on a procedure to deal with the obviously too experienced bear.

My daughter tells me that this year alone, local townships recorded four bear hit by cars and several more that had to be trapped and relocated. This sow had been reported previously so the DFW set out to trap her. The foot-note here is that she was captured and probably was euthanized as a repeat offender. Those B & E abilities were evidence of practice and are not tolerated by authorities who try to maintain that fine balance between civilians and the bear population.

It is terrific that there is enough habitat reclaimed in New Jersey for the black bear to have made a comeback. This means that our state can be proud of efforts to reclaim a species and that contributes to the ecology and spirit of our state.

I have been looking through my grandmother's cookbooks and just want to caution anyone who bags a bear and would like to eat it. A bear killed in December is likely to have quite a bit of fat. Trim the meat of fat as soon as possible because bear fat turns rancid. This is something that marinating the meat will not cover. The gamey aspect is not a bad thing, and pot roast and braising will tenderize an animal that might have been angry when shot, but that bear fat is so famous that Indians used to use it for conditioning their skin. Present day tastes will most likely not appreciate that very characteristic rancid odiferous part of the meat. On the other hand, do not let that stop you from cooking and enjoying bear meat.

Here is a recipe for bear pot roast:

Cut the meat into manageable chunks. Toss in a plastic bag with enough flour to coat lightly. Brown in a Dutch oven in chicken fat, lard, or a good vegetable oil until seared on all sides. Take the meat out to a platter while you deglaze the pot with one cup beer or red wine, then replace the meat and add enough broth (vegetable, chicken or beef) to cover. Sprinkle with a packet of Lipton onion soup mix, a splash of ketchup, a bay leaf or two (this is because the bear grew up with mountain laurel, bay leaf is a laurel, plus I think it is compatible) some juniper berries if available, and black pepper. Simmer for a couple of hours and then add salt to taste. Add more ketchup and beer if you prefer at the end of cooking time. Top off with dumplings cooked in the stew for a real campfire meal. You can add vegetables like carrots, parsnips, potatoes to the pot but I prefer to cook the meat for a long time and they don't hold up.

A grown bear can reach over four hundred pounds. That is a lot of meat to waste. If you do not want to stuff your bear, think about giving the meat away. It is awesome to think of the culinary potential.

Bears rock.

Governor Christie: It's Peanut Butter and Jelly Thursday

Yep. My calendar reminded me to look in my pantry. Its about that time of the week again to enjoy peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, just to stretch the budget, you understand. I invite the Governor to join us because he insists every Jerseyite will share "the pain" as services are cut across the board.

Today the Governor tackles a pet project: getting a handle on the corrupt entities in Atlantic City's gambling venue. Somewhere along the line, the Mafia was mentioned.

Now the Mob in Philadelphia is something else. I remember when Joey Merlino was credited with buying his South Street neighborhood Thanksgiving turkeys. I don't think that anyone here gets Mob turkeys. Come to think of it, the Black Panther has sent food out on the street with the raised black fist on the side of the boxes. So how come we have the Mafia brought up now?

I think Mob talk is a red herring. Governor Christie is bent on cleaning up Atlantic City and he may have the tools to go after unlawful persons, but I personally think he is after the money.

According to the New Jersey Constitution, eight percent of the Atlantic City casino gross revenues, off the top, is dedicated to the use of the disabled, senior citizens, and funneled to nutrition and transportation programs. The monies were thought to be so vast that they were also supposed to to fund the Senior Gold and PAAD prescription drug programs. In today's financial reorganization climate, that seems to be up for grabs.

What would happen, for instance, if the Governor is unable to stabilize the Casino Revenue Fund adequately enough to fund senior programs? What would happen if he drops the Meadowlands sports arena and shuts down the race track and betting? He rashly proposes to let the struggling Xanadu project to continue and subsidize it because of some exotic premise that it will attract "high end" clients and party goers?

Cut me a break.

In this economy, we cannot afford $175 million in tax credits to a puffy bloated dead fish like Xanadu when the real minnows, senior citizens, need to be cared for. In the world of fishing, the small fry feed the larger fish. If the bait fish die off, the larger ones eat each other until the pond is bare.

In many societies in the world, the aged are revered and when they die, their bones are even worshiped. I don't think we have to go that far, but where is the respect? I am concerned on behalf of my fellow seniors that we are on the fringes of a world that considers our lifetimes and spirits expendable.

We must cherish and honor and support our senior citizens and disabled. It is the test of a society's strength how it cares for its weaker members. We should be ashamed of ourselves if we do not provide the shelter and caring environment to help retirees live out their declining years untroubled by desperate poverty.

We must not forget that policemen and garbage truck workers, architects and ticket takers, brick layers and dentists, apron clad housewives and former mayors are all going to be retirees someday. They may end up in public housing or may live with their children, but everyone will need prescription benefits and medical services that are backed up by public funds.

If we all eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches on Thursdays, turning down take out or businessman's luncheons, think of the money we could save. Think of the money we could put to other uses.... even... adopting a senior.

So Governor Christie, if you must put an amendment in the NJ Constitution, how about Peanut Butter and Jelly Thursdays?

Have a nice day,

Seniors rock!

Mayor Mack vs. Diversity: Round Two

You know those awkward moments when you stand in front of someone and can't think of anything to say? A good icebreaker is talking about the weather. After looking over our city's current events today, here goes.

It was a beastly hot day today. Tomorrow is supposed to be humid and more like a sauna. Don't worry, just hold on to your fans, because Friday and Saturday are definitely going to be in real or near hundreds.

Whew!

Hot enough to melt asphalt and I haven't scraped last week's goo off the soles of my sneakers. I stepped in the stuff and did not realize it until I tried to put on the brakes and my foot stuck on the accelerator!

That was interesting.

Well. Living through the heat wave is almost as challenging as living through this city's problems. Money is at the top of the list. Mayor Mack is intent on putting as many minority contractors and vendors in city supply situations as possible.

In theory this would keep more taxpayer money in the city.

In practice, the businessmen and purveyors who would bid these contracts, which seem to go to interests out of the city, either do not follow up with paperwork or may not qualify for the bidding process in the first place.

There are a slew of regulations for any business who would like to be considered for city contracts. From my experience, they could involve providing work experience and references, ability to get a bond, and proof of financial viability, and so forth.

The most obvious part of the process is the bid itself. In spite of efforts to submit the lowest estimate, if the bidding process gives the bidder different options to get the job done, the job may eventually go to the "best qualified". That may not be the lowest cost in some instances.

This process is tough and it is hard to be successful and not discouraged. For a businessman who has come up from hard-scrabble and is now large enough to seek out city contracts, there may not be office resources to manage the process. The sorry result is that the contracts are "let" to interests who may be from out of county or even out of state but more familiar with the bidding process.

It seems once a contractor successfully finishes a contract, and he has made connections it is easier to get "at will" jobs. These are opportunities too small for advertising and may be billed out by the hour.

I once challenged laundry contracts of the Mercer Geriatric Center with the Freeholders who owned it. I was prevented from getting knowlege of the business entities involved for the years that I was investigating. I was told that local contractors "did not qualify" or were "in litigation" so they had to use entities many counties away in spite of the obvious local contractors. I could stand on my head but I did not get specifics. Come on folks. That might mean that you did not pay your bill and were just looking for a way to get out of the terms of the contract.

In the case of the City of Trenton, one of Mayor Mack's campaign platform planks was a commitment to local businesses to get the city contracts. If Trenton depended on that plank, if Trenton were the Ark, it would be sinking. Mayor Mack is finding out that our businesses may not be financially viable, sophisticated in the bidding process, or are the result of hard working folks who cannot handle the elaborate paperwork required.

That sorry possibility brings up the deficiency of our school system, Mayor Mack's second plank. We must restructure our schools. The partnership with the State in these matters must be gracefully negotiated or we will end up with both Charter Schools and the Public School System continuing to fail our citizens. If education were available to adults as well as underperforming students, perhaps these painful real life short comings could be overcome.

Diversity in our society is more than race. If you built a stone wall with smooth pebbles, it would not be as sturdy as one fitted with rocks chipped so each stone took advantage of the corners and knobs of its neighbors. It takes both men and women, from youth to the aged, many races and religions, gays and straights, to produce a really strong involved city. We can learn from each other. The most important thing is that we will stand tall and strong if we stand together.

This is not a "family" thing, this is a "city" thing.

Just Having Another Heat Wave

Can you believe the forecast for this next week? Holy Smoke!

It gets so you find it hard to differentiate between the nineties and hundreds, between an orange alert and the big red one.

Once the temperature goes over the high eighties, the only way to tell if you are in a heat wave is when you can't catch your breath. A red alert means that ozone levels are high enough to recommend staying indoors. Asthma or COPD make things worse so this is good advice for everyone.

There is a primal instinct to seek water as temperatures rise. Life originated in the seas and today most of your body is water. If you are a senior, accustomed to sips of tea rather than chugging slurpies, it may be hard to tell if you are stressing from the hot weather.

Critical amounts of water can be lost by perspiration. This can be life threatening if not replenished on a timely basis. There is a saying that once you are thirsty, it is already too late to drink. Of course that seems a little simplistic. I personally feel that was created by a marketing rep for a bottled water company, but there is a valid idea here. Keep up your fluid intake and drink plenty of liquids.

Water can keep us cool in other ways. If you do not have air conditioning in your home, water filled lasagna pans place in front of your electric fans can make dog days more bearable. As the fans evaporate the water, the process can cool the air temperature as much as ten degrees. This is most effective on days with low humidity, but even on high humidity days it can work.

Make sure that you open windows on the upper floors of your house to vent the build up of hot air. Heat rises and the top floors will be unbearable if the heat cannot escape. When you vent your house this way it also helps circulate air. Opening some windows on the low levels at night will let in cooler air and help this effect.

If you are concerned about safety, consult with your local police department on advice on keeping out predators. You do not want to compromise your security of course, but keep in mind that merely running a fan in a closed up house is like sitting in a convection oven.

Watermelon really hits the spot when it is so oppressively hot. The stores have melons on sale for as little as $4.99 each. A whole melon seems like an awful lot to carve up so I cut it in two inch chunks and freeze it in gallon plastic bags. Every two hours I take the bag out and whack it on the counter to keep pieces more or less separated. When the contents are completely frozen it will keep for months. There is nothing as tasty as these watermelon ice cubes in iced tea or a mixed drink. After they thaw, you have a nutritious portion of fruit in your glass.

Some other tips to deal with this weather are:

Keep your refrigerator full and try to stay out of it as much as possible. LOL. What I mean, of course, is open the door as seldom as you can. This saves energy.

Keep the curtains or blinds on the sunny side of your house or apartment closed. Open them late in the day or early in the morning when the sun is not shining in. As the sun moves around, shut them for the hottest part of the day. The shade makes it easier for your air conditioner to handle its territory.

Wear light colors and loose fitting clothing and learn the symptoms of heat exhaustion and heat stroke. At the first sign of discomfort or confusion seek help.

The combination of medication and effects of age make it difficult to deal with the heat so we have to be more careful. Use common sense. Buddy up with a neighbor and check up on each other. We're all in this together.

Have a nice day.

Did You Snope Today?

It is a gorgeous July day, partly sunny, partly stormy, with enough heat to make for a sauna-like forecast and lots of cold showers. I never expected that one of these cold showers would be in an email.

I clicked on the email from one of our local activists. He is a dynamo and someone I thought I had really connected with on many levels. He seemed to be going in a very positive direction channeling concerned citizens into constructive community projects from cleanup to attending council meetings. Imagine my surprise to open and find that I was being implored to "send to 20 or more" of my friends because this was so important. What the heck? I felt a chill...

I started reading and then got as steamed up as the July afternoon.

Connecting with friends and businesses is taken for granted if you have a computer. Writing notes are now emails and shopping is no longer physical because you can shop on line. We seem to deal in fast results, instant contact, instant information, sometimes passing on items without a second thought because something makes us mad, inspires us, or is just so funny that you have to share with your bsf.

Today you can look anything up. Writers don't need to keep index card notes. Cooks don't need to keep huge recipe files. Students can find courses and even class notes on line.

Remembering lots of detail doesn't seem to be such a problem now, even if you are a senior and worrying about forgetfullness. (I forgot my keys...so do I have Alzheimers? My doctor tells me that if I forget the keys, not to worry, but if I forget what they are supposed to do....that means a problem.)

We have become demanding and casual in this instant world. Along the way we may have lost the sense of responsibility that goes with decent human interaction. When an email comes in that seems to be just right, relevant to a current social issue or event, something that you really connect with, have to share....please reconsider.

Please check it out.

We are heading into the lazy dog days of summer that will shortly morph into the election-driven days of autumn. The September and October days will be energized by electioneering controversy and for sure there are going to be emails.

When someone you know sends you a post, you open it because you recognize the address. When a group emails you representing a political interest, they will likely be spamm. It seems to me that we have to be vigilant and start now to sort out the crap from the shavings.

When you get an email from someone you know and you think they have more brains than to send you political drivel but something nags at you, it is easy enough to check the questionable information out by going to SNOPES.

www.snopes.com/urban legends.

www.snopes.com has cataloged rumors and urban fables for years. They can show you instantly if your topic is true or false. Accuracy and truth are tools for every really informed voter, probably more important this year than ever before.

One of the current rumors going around now is a request for a 28th amendment to the Constitution with the intent to overturn the present medical bills passed by Congress. It mentions that our elected officials have elected themselves exemptions from law and not beholding to the new plan provisions or even to various laws of sexual harassment, etc. Snopes shoots that down in a hurry and even gives the background that led to the current rumor going around the internet.

Most rumors do die down after a while. Then, thanks to the internet, someone will find one, send it to a friend who considers the source(the first friend) and then sends it on. Like laundering money, it gets harder and harder to detect the start of the story. That is where Snopes comes in. Snopes has the original version, plus updates, so Snopes can tell you what is true and what is false.

Remember the story about praying for the demise of Governor Christie? That joke made the rounds when President Obama was running and the Republicans had used it to pray for "favorite President Obama". Back in those days it seems that Republicans did not object to the joke at Democrat expense, but when a Republican is the butt? There was a call for firing the teacher who started the NJ version. Oh, if they had only "Snoped". Snopes had the joke online for almost forever.

So to all my friends, (especially those of the conservative bent who seem to pass on so much of this stinky stuff) I suggest that you either delete me from this baloney, or look it up first and tell the folks who sent it to you that they are mistaken.

Snopes rocks!

Update for Senior Art Show

Hey everyone! Senior Art and Craftsmen news!

The brochures are out from the Heritage and Cultural Commission and they look great. If you have not received yours by the end of this week, contact the Office on Aging at 609-989-6661. They will get one off to you because the registration form must be received by their office by July 22.

Important dates are:

July 22, registration forms completed and in MC Office on Aging for processing.

July 29, delivery of your entry to Meadow Lakes from 9:00am to 12:00pm.

August 2 to August 13, duration of show. Hours for visiting 10am to 4 pm. at Meadow Lakes, 300 Meadow Lakes, East Windsor.

August 13, Awards reception 1:30pm to 3:30pm.

August 13, Pick up entries after show reception is over. No earlier than 3:30pm. Winning entries are to be left in the custody of Mercer County Office of Aging and will be transported to the State Senior Art Show by Committee members.

Entry specifications are:

Must be original creation of the artist. No glicee or reproductions of other original art work or artists, no kits, no copies.

Dimensions of paintings and 2 dimensional work may not exceed the maximum 36 inches in any direction INCLUDING FRAME. Work must fit into a 36 " template. Any hanging over....sorry, not accepted.

Also there is a minimum for you miniature lovers...may not be smaller than 11 inches. If it does not measure up, it does not show.

Sculpture and 3 dimensional crafts may not exceed 18 inches in any direction including the base. This is to permit as many entrants as possible in our limited show area.

Please have your artwork ready for hanging. We are not framers and would not be permitted to do anything even if we could, so have your fishing wire all hooked up, or whatever you prefer. Artwork must be matted, mounted, framed with screw eyes and properly labeled on the back side. No saw tooth hangers. They just do not hold and we are not able to hang them in our gallery system.

If your water color or mixed media requires glass and is over 24 inches, plexiglass is suggested to protect it.

If you have a piece valued over $400, you must have private insurance.

If you are in the wrong category, the committee will move it to the correct grouping.

Categories this year are:

Acrylic

Craft. No kits or molds may be used.

Computer-generated Imagery. No digitally altered photos and images made with a scanner but there is a new grouping called "Computer-generated Imagery. You may use a pixel based painting or graphics program such as Photoshop, Illustrator or Corel Painter.

Drawing--pencil, pen, ink, graphite, markers

Mixed Media. A combination of two or more media, includes collage and assemblage, and no one of which predominates.

Oil.

Pastel, chalk, charcoal, oil pastel.

Photography created using a film-based digital or pinhole camera, scanner, including color, black and white or tinted or digitally manipulated photos, photogram.

Print. Etching, engraving, lithograph, woodcut, monoprint, monotype, silkscreen.

Watercolor, gouache.

There must be three entries or more in a category to be judged and qualify to go on to the State Show.

I think I mentioned previously that you can't show a work that was entered in a previous year, and works must be young. Artists have to be over 60 years of age, but sorry seniors, works must be less than three years old. One entry per artist...but look at all the categories. It is hard to pick out your favorite but only one per person, please.

This is the second year that Mercer has been able to offer first place awards to both professional artists and the hobby artist. That means two in each medium get to represent Mercer County in the State competition. And we have Meadow Lakes to thank for that because they have made sufficient gallery display area available that we can really present our Mercer County artists.

Don't forget, call Office on Aging for more info and brochures. 609-989-6661.

Seniors Rock!

Mercer County Senior Art Show

Attention artists! There is one good thing about being over sixty years old...you qualify for the Senior Art Show.

It's about that time again. I understand that the flyers with application forms are in the mail. If you have not participated in past years, don't let that stop you now. They have room for lots of entries and are split into amateur and professional categories. I hear that they might be able to handle crafts and stained glass entries this year.

The Mercer County Senior Art Show is a joint effort of the Office on Aging and the Mercer County Culture and Heritage Commission. Entries cover a range of mediums from water color to acrylic, photography and sculpture. The winners of each category represent Mercer County and go on to the State Finals.

This is really a big deal. The State show exhibits upwards of 300 pieces by winners of each County's competitions. I've won locally a couple of years and it feels great to go on to represent Mercer County.

Keep in mind there is a limit on the size of each painting or sculpture because of the obvious logistical headaches displaying so many works. Your entry form will list the permitted dimensions so you can frame accordingly. You are permitted one work. Also the work must be totally original(not workshop or class work), and created within the past three years.

Please, if you have exhibited a work in a previous year, do not present it again. This year's entries must be fresh stuff, if you know what I mean. One year a water colorist sneaked in an old work and his wife spent the whole reception telling on him. Ahhh. Too much excitement.

The Mercer County Show is going to be held in August but the drop off may be the end of July. I will post as soon as the dates are firmed up. I believe that the County show is going to be at Meadow Lakes, the site of the 2009 NJ State Juried Show. It would be great to exhibit in the same venue as the 2010 final competition in October, so stay tuned.

Art rocks.

Seniors rock.

ARTWORKS TONIGHT: Mercer Reception Celebrates 40 Yrs.

Recognizing that local history, diverse culture and treasured traditions of varied elements in the community should be documented for posterity, the County Executive and Board of Chosen Freeholders created the Mercer County Cultural and Heritage Commission.

Their mission was to encourage County artists to focus on their unique Mercer identity. Since that St. Patrick's Day inception in 1970, as an advisory board to the Division of Culture and Heritage, they have provided welcome support to the art segment of the community that all too often cannot sustain itself.

The Annual Mercer County Artists Show and the biennial Mercer County Photography Exhibition are two venues for artists. Each year, some of the works on exhibition are chosen for purchase. Subsequently, they become part of the Mercer County permanent art collection. These purchase awards are coveted as much for the prestige as for the support they give to the artists.

Selected works from the Mercer County collection are on display at ARTWORKS from July 9 through July 31. This is a wonderful opportunity to see these works, some of which can only be otherwise viewed by visiting Mercer County offices during business hours.

There is a reception tonight from 6 to 9pm. There is going to be live music by the David Adolph Quartet and food catering by Revere's.

In this time of suspended and cut back funding, please come out and show our policy makers that the arts are alive and well in Trenton.

Make sure you sign the guestbook!

Trenton Rocks!

Mack vs. Diversity, Round One

The new Mayor of Trenton is digging in. His first appointments have been pulled out of the old Mayor's basket. He just pulled those old boys out, dusted them off, and propped them up on his shelf and... after they stopped wobbling, turned back for another look.

Maybe that is too simplistic. When Eric Jackson was salvaged, privately I cheeered!

This is a very bright and enthusiastic young man. I was once involved with excavating contracting and can relate to the challenges that the Roads Department faces and appreciate productive solutions. Listening to the one man pothole truck solution, with permanent results as opposed to three man temp patches...why I was just blown away. I am so glad that Tony Mack has him on board.

Now the Police Director business is another story. Irv Bradley was truly a find. He came into the Police Department helping to set up the new computer technology and became a very talented and savvy community minded interface between the Mayor and Police Department. I heard one comment that officers were so happy not to be looking over their shoulders or needing to "pay for promotions". Personally, our seniors loved him.

The new appointment to Police Director is a fellow brought out of retirement to help Mayor Mack. I am sure that he is a fine fellow but I can't help wonder if this temporary position may be to enhance pension benefits. Can someone update me on this possibility? I think the Police Director should be chosen on a basis other than living in the city of Trenton. Dipping down into his history, it seems to me to be a colossal step backward into the "old boy system".

L.A.Parker writes today that Mayor Mack is "under pressure to put as many of City Hall's best jobs into the hands of African-Americans families". L.A. is a stout defender of black interests and I was flabbergasted that he dared to say this. Since he has brought up the subject, and having hosted all those Meet and Greets for Mayoral and Council candidates, I can attest to the concern that black candidates and businessmen felt about losing some of their political clout with the change of administration.

For a while, Tony Mack even invited Frank Weeden to his transition team. You never hear about that. The sea of black faces at the inaugauration of Mayor Mack is reassuring to the black interests in town but it really does not indicate a progressive direction for this city.

I suspect that the latest census is going to show that the demographics for Trenton are over fifty percent Hispanic and Hispanic mixed, about twenty percent black, and about twenty percent white. That is not enough to support the white supremacy argument for Divine Allah, that is not enough blacks to support Mayor Mack's administration, that is a sign instead of a segment of the city that is not being represented.

Instead of worrying about paying off political debts, I implore Mayor Mack to look ahead and plan for the future. We must get a handle on the way this city feels about itself. We cannot afford to keep the same policies and procedures in place that so bogged down the Palmer Administration.

If we are going to present a desirable and marketable image to the rest of the world, we have to be inviting and safe for tourists. It seems obvious that the rest of the world thinks of Trenton as a sea of gangs and black faces.

There. I said it.

Diversity. Mayor Mack, what are you going to do about it?

Have a nice day.

How to Beat the Heat

Summer is here. After more than ten feet of snow this past winter, Jack Frost has turned his weather record over to Mother Nature. Not to be outdone, she has treated us to heat wave after heat wave and today sent temperatures soaring to 101 degrees.

Yipes!

The city pavement is so hot you can fry an egg. Really.

We watch from our windows to see if there are any problems in the mall parking lot because the homeless do not like to go to shelters. We have a tiny park not far from our building and there is a fountain and some shade trees. Folks are very respectful and there are a lot of mothers with their children. It is, nontheless, possibly a lifesaver for someone in this oppressive heat.

We think word is out about our "Senior Citizen Police Academy" training and Police connections because we have noted better quality of life in this area. Incidents are almost nonexistent. We credit the outgoing Trenton Police Director Irving Bradley for including the community in Police efforts. The "professionals" seem to have gone to greener pastures.

I think enviously of my girl friend on a cruise in the Caribbean...I think of my friends under a tree or on a boat in the Atlantic Highlands...but then I look over at my window seat filled with ferns and flowers. The air conditioner is cranking out steadily and I can reach for my ice cubes. Not too bad. Not too bad at all.

I remember days ago sitting on the shady porch of my old farmhouse, rocking in my father-in-law's grapevine bentwood rocker. I remember the sound of cicadas and the dripping glass of lemonade. The city streets and parking lots are a lot harder to cool off and the smell of asphalt and diesel is not as nice as lilac and peonies, but coping with what life puts in your path is essential to achieving a degree of contentment.

AARP mentioned a while back that the senior population is generally more contented and happy. This shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who has lived through many a rough patch. Lo and behold, it's amazing that you have survived. Being thankful is a fulltime job.

I guess it might be more glamorous to have glossy green palms waving over my dewy brow, but heck, I am just fine with the scents of basil and sage and the purple geranium peeking from behind my peace lily. I just had a note from a friend who recently reconnected with me, I have a tall frosty glass of ice water at my elbow, and I think in general, life is good.

People rock!

Mile Posts and Memories

June is halfway through the calendar year and marks the semester end for most local schools. For high school seniors it also marks a rite of passage as they move out into the world.

My granddaughter's high school graduating class this year numbered almost 300 students. The stage was packed with students in caps and gowns, shoulder to shoulder and aching to get through the hour. Parents and family members in the audience could see rubber bands and spitballs soaring into the air among the back rows behind the speakers.

Never mind.

The messages delivered to graduates were punctuated by toots from a horn somewhere off in the distance.

No problem.

The highlight of the ceremony was the presentation of diplomas. Each student went through a receiving line to get the coveted award. Suddenly one chap pretended to trip over the Superintendent's feet crossing the stage and fell to the floor.

Splat!

There were shocked gasps in the audience. He clambered to his feet and continued on to accept his diploma and shake hands. Later we heard that there was a bet riding on the dare.

Ahh. Too much reality TV. Wait until these bright and talented youngsters get out into today's barren economic climate. We should applaud their spirit and shenanigans while we can.

Finishing up the week, I attended my fiftieth alumni gathering.

Truly, it does not feel like so many years have passed. Teetering now at the precipice of old age, the hard part is realizing how the present holds up that memory of yourself at the brink of adulthood. Passages. I sense canyon walls and buttressing arches looming over me, halfway to my goals, still struggling to climb up out into that clear blue sky.

I had planned for months to polish myself for those pals I hadn't seen in years...to lose twenty pounds, get a knock-out outfit, prep a resume like applying for a job.

What am I? Nuts?

I stopped to think. I came to the conclusion that since we had been a very small class, and spent our school years in an intimate context that just was not competitive, there should be no pressure to stand out because it would probably be enough just to show up. Thus relieved of guilt and inhibition, I sallied off in high spirits.

Possibly the best part of this weekend was the pre-banquet picnic we had in the middle of the day. It gave us time to mingle, show pictures and cover some of the intervening years. Our hostess and her husband did a great job providing a spread to keep things lively. Fifty years is a long time. People come with baggage and it takes a while to shed shyness. This was a great chance to let the old personalities shine through. The picnic definitely was a successful ice breaker and, by the time we went to dinner, we were relating like back in the 60's again.

As I headed to my car, one of my classmates asked,

"Hey, Barb. Would you like to see live fish in the back of my car?"

It was a blazing ninety degree day and I looked over at his wife who nodded. Everyone else was headed for hotel rooms and a shower and I could not imagine fish surviving for long in this weather.

"You have got to be kidding. I bet you have gold fish, like an aquarium?"

I followed my classmate and his spouse back to their car which was parked on the lawn under a shady tree. He moved to the rear of the car and opened the trunk. I did not know what to expect but my mind was searching possibilities trying to create a rational situation. I was expecting to see maybe plastic bags of gold fish from a pet store or the stuffed bass mounted on a plaque that sings a song when he is wound up. At any rate, I was in for a surprise.

He did indeed have live fish. Swimming in his trunk. Yep.

I looked down at a very large cooler filled with killies, minnows, bait fish that I was used to seeing in the shallows of White Lake or along tidal marshes of the Jersey shore. I couldn't get over it.

"We thought we might go fishing tomorrow before we headed home. This is a pretty good way to keep the bait, don't you think?" he said with a proud grin.

As he spoke, he lifted a small battery pump pack about the size of a Boy Scout canteen in the palm of his hand. Eight inches long, it fit nicely into the beverage side of the cooler and had plastic lines running through it that kept the killies' water aerated and cool. Neat.

As I changed my clothes for the banquet, I was already chuckling. I was enjoying myself.

Well, our gathering of alumni was warm and we were singled out for corsages because of our fifty year status. The air conditioning had been turned on the day before so the hall was thankfully cool. The food was better than last year and the cash bar reasonable. Everyone mingled with the classes that were represented without regard to specific years and the feeling of returning home, to home base, was the best of all. There was an air and uplift of good old fashioned optimism.

It was bittersweet to see alumni attending who were obviously dealing with infirmities, some greeted with glimmers of recall, some who were just pleased to be included...but realizing that the years take their toll and that our numbers are diminishing is just so sad. Our townships have moved on to a regional school system and our alumni organization is fading as members die off. It was like we are tacked to a bulletin board and, one by one, we come down until the board is bare.

The evening finished up with a disk jockey playing a nostalgic medley of do-wop and rock swing tunes. Watching those dancers swaying in the soft lighting was like the old sock hops all over again. It was the second time I heard Tennesee Waltz this week...the other at my Mom's nursing home. And that thought brought me full circle to thinking about going home. My present home.

Reflecting on the weekend, we had the usual work updates, retirement stories, yearbook albums, family pictures, but I have to say that the fish in the trunk beat everything.

Here's to the class of 2010. May they have the blessings and good fortune to get as far as we have.

People rock!