It’s Not About Them

I love it when I hear those so called independents opine on about how they want to hear the candidates say something specific so as to change their minds one way or another. They ramble on as if they are some sort of intellectuals waiting for words that will sway them toward one or another candidate. These people must live under a rock or something if they think that what the candidates say this week is important enough to sway them.

The reality is this—the candidates are backed by certain interest groups that want something in return for their backing. That is what you are voting for, not some bullshit that they say in the debates or what they really stand for. They stand for what the people that back them want.

Having said that, let’s look at the people backing the candidates. Obama has my vote because he is backed by progressives that think somewhat like I do. I say somewhat because I am way to the left of him, however, he is the closest to my thinking. Mr. Romney on the other hand has advanced to where he is because of the backing of tea party conservative types that have an agenda that is regressive and not progressive. Whether Mr. Romney is for abortion or against it, for condoms or against them, for marriage equality or against it, for wars all over the planet or against it is irrelevant. It’s what the people that back him want, believe me. They felt that they were screwed over by Bush and they will not let it happen again.

It is clear Mr. and Ms. Independents, you are voting for the party behind the man and not the man. Have you read the Republican platform? Try it out for size. See whether you want to live in their world, a world that only exists in their minds or maybe in Kansas.

HE HAS NO RIGHTS

Here’s the thing. The minute that I and millions of other people selected Barrack Obama to be our candidate for president, he lost all his rights. The only right that he has now is to get himself elected and help enact the priorities that I and the millions of others deem important. He does not have the right to dislike debates, I don’t give a shit what he likes or dislikes, its part of the job. He doesn’t have the right to act “presidential” when his opponent is throwing punches, I don’t give a shit how he wants to act, winning is part of his job and his commitment to me and others. He doesn’t have the right to be unprepared for a debate, I don’t give a shit what all else he has on his plate, because if he is not there after November 6^th,  it is all for naught. His commitment is to win, then he can be unprepared for a debate. If his comportment during the debate was because he was “advised” to do so and I do not know this to be the case, then I feel his advisors can be called crooks and thieves, because they stole from me and others a hope for the future. He either was advised to act the way he did or he ignored something his advisors told him. Either way it is unconscionable.

I chose him to be a complete president and that means debates and fielding lies from his opponents. He doesn’t like to be confrontational?  Neither do I and that is why I chose him to run for president as my surrogate. I have the brains to be president (actually nowadays it doesn’t take that much), but I don’t have the temperament. I did not know that he did not have the temperament either. Actually, he lied to me, a lie of omission but never the less, a lie.

Throughout the year I have given lots of money to the democrats and their surrogates and they obviously squandered it. If they do not produce a bombshell between now and November 6^th , I want it back. Today I received this via email:

 “Robert — Since last night’s debate, Romney is collecting money from his millionaire donors hand over fist.
The scary part? This race could turn around on President Obama in the next 24 hours. Polls now show Romney is within one point in Florida (47-46) and two in Virginia (48-46)”

This was my response:

“How dare you ask me to back a prize fighter that refuses to fight when he gets into the ring. He screws up and Romney begins collecting from his big donors and I'm supposed to chip in my hard earned dollars to off set the screw up? Screw you!! He just threw away a generation. From now until my death I have to hear about abortion, gay marriage, condoms, etc. Tell the president thanks but no thanks. What is it they say? “If you can't stand the heat get out of the kitchen.” Where's Hillary?”

Can you imagine? This sounds like “Too Big to Fail”. We screwed up, now can you bail us out.

My wife says things can turn around in five weeks, but who cares. It is over for me. Not that I will vote for RICHIE the Liar RICH, but down ballot is a lot more interesting.

I'm Coming Back as a Cat

I’m Coming Back as a Cat

I’ve just about had it. No, I’m not kidding. We’ve got this freakin cat that has complete run of the house, he can do anything he wants and Linda unconditionally loves him. I mean, we walk into the house and the fat bastard is sitting in the same spot as he was when we left. Mice scurrying all over the house and he’s just sitting there staring into outer space. What does Linda do when she sees him? Picks him up, kisses him and says, “Isn’t he cute”. Now I work my butt off in and around the house and maybe I get a quick, “Hi hon”. If I sat on my butt and stared into space she’d have me admitted into the psych ward. Kitty does it and it’s cute. I’m coming back as a cat.

Every so often kitty pukes on the rug; never on our tile floor, always on the light colored rug. What does Linda say?  “Oh, he must be upset.” Yeah upset my fanny, I’d like to see what happens if I puked on the rug. I can imagine her holding me and asking why I was so upset. “You stupid idiot, why didn’t you puke in the toilet?” would be her response. I’m coming back as a cat.

The other thing is the kitty litter. It’s out where we can see it and when the kitty goes in and does his business Linda watches with pride, even sometimes happily cleaning up when he misses and leaves a stronzo on the floor. Now sometimes in the morning when I’m doing my business, I leave the bathroom door open, habit I guess. If she happens by I hear, “that’s disgusting—close the damm door.”  I can just imagine what would happen if I left a stronzo on the floor. It would be off to the old age home for me. I’m coming back as a cat.

As you know Linda works in Manhattan four days a week and when I call her and ask her if she’s excited about coming out for the weekend she always says, “Oh I can’t wait to see Kitty Boy”. I mean, what am I, chopped Liver? One time I said to Linda that she has to get rid of the cats (We had two at that time). “It’s either me or them”, I said. Do you know what she said? “I’ll see you Bob”. Listen I’m serious, I’m coming back as a cat.

The fact is that up until a month ago we had two cats, Gregory and Winston. Gregory was 21 years old when he passed. I came down in the morning and he was sprawled out on the living room floor dead. He used to sit on my lap every night so I guess I do miss him, but 21 years? Only Linda would have a cat that lasts 21 years. It must be her organic living or maybe the fact that she also spoiled him. At any rate, I’m still coming back as a cat, maybe I’ll get some respect.

Teenager Again, Life Without Hormones

“Yeah he’s doing well in school now, but wait until he discovers girls”. Or change the he to a she and it’s the same lament. Let me tell you, I experienced this first hand. From a smart young kid who wanted to be a doctor to a frustrated, low grade achieving teenager, who thought about nothing else save sex, specifically sex with girls. I say girls because teenager boys who are gay think about sex with boys, girls with boys or other girls, if they are so inclined. That is the way it is, “e’ un fatto”.

Of course this time in our lives is when our minds are the most creative, supple and absorbent. And what the hell was I doing, thinking about girls. Sitting in a classroom, riding a bus, in a movie, trying to do homework or, god forbid, a dance. Oh no!!!. An elderly Buddhist monk was asked what life was like after his sex drive had diminished. His answer; “like getting off a wild horse”. I rode that horse for many years. Abstinence only? That has to be the dumbest thing ever conceived by man. It’s like trying not to eat anymore, the only thing you think about is food. Try going on a diet.

Well I’m here to tell you that you can get a “do over”. The trick is you have to wait until you are retired and most of all you must keep yourself in good physical shape. Being retired and in bad health is as bad, or worse than a teenager with hormones.

It’s tough to retire, especially when your job defines who you are, but the liberation that can come with retirement is worth the anxiety of actually doing it. People say that they can’t wait to retire but when that day nears, panic can set in.

My wife likes to say that I’m not retired, (retired has a bad connotation) I’m just doing other things. Things I love doing, like playing my guitar and writing this piece. I’m a teenager again, but without those dreaded hormones.

IN SUPPORT OF WALL STREET OCCUPIERS

Here’s the way I figure it!!! Seventy years ago I was born to two Italian immigrants from so far in an Southern Italian mountainside town that you needed a sling shot to get them any mail. Whatever, my father and mother made it to America; Trenton, NJ to be exact. My father tried several things but eventually went to work in a factory, as did most of my friends’ fathers. For some reason and I don’t know why, I was always expected to go to college. A good student, I was not. In fact, I was a down right bad student. My father told me that he wasn’t going to waste his money on me, so if I went to college I would have to pay myself. Because of my horrendous high school grades, I had to beg my way into Trenton Junior College. “Junior College” was what they called community colleges in those days. Somehow I made it through, working at Cleary’s Drug Store during the school year and construction during the summer. I transferred to a four-year college, La Salle University in Philadelphia Pa. I paid for this also—including room and board. In fact, between my junior and senior years, I made $2,400. The tuition and living expenses were about $2,100, leaving me $300 to buy a car. At this point my father felt I was serious and chipped in with $1,000. That meant I didn’t have to work my senior year. Funny, that’s when I got my best grades.

As an important aside, my high school best friend Bernie Cywinski, who’s father was a milkman, (parents were first generation Polish) went to Columbia University. Although his grades were good, he was nowhere near the top of our class. Nevertheless, he followed his brother to Columbia. His brother was on an ROTC scholarship and later went on to be the top pilot for Pan Am. More on Bernie later, because his story is relevant.

After graduating college I got a job as an elementary school teacher in Hamilton Township, New Jersey. My first year’s salary was $4,500. With that I saved for graduate school and bought my first car, an Alfa Romeo, Guillietta Spider. After three years of saving, I moved to New York City to attend New York University Graduate School. At that time Bernie was attending architecture school at Columbia University so we became roommates on Central Park West and 84^th Street.

I got an MA from NYU in 1967 and in 1966 Bernie graduated from Columbia. Neither of us had any debt from this experience. I taught for two more years in New York City and then moved to Sao Paulo, Brazil to teach in an international school. After two years in Brazil I moved to Vienna, Austria, where I taught in another international school for 5 years. While in Brazil I met Mike Sesich, son of first generation Croatians and John Esperian, son of first generation Armenians. Mike’s father fixed typewriters and his mother was a cook in a cafeteria at Stanford University. Mike went to UC Santa Barbara and later got a Master’s Degree from Stanford. Yes, the mother had some influence at Stanford, but Mike was very smart and got terrific grades. John who was Assistant Headmaster of the International School in Vienna, attended Washington and Lee undergrad, Boston College and Columbia University for Master’s Degrees. His father sold insurance. Should I mention that my now deceased wife Sharyn, was a graduate of St John’s University with a Masters from Brooklyn College, all paid for by scholarships? Her father drove a hearse for a funeral parlor. Or should I mention that my present wife Linda received a BA from St John’s, paid for by her Sicilian mother who was a seamstress in the garment district.

Anyway, after I got back from Vienna I taught for 5 years in a Prep school in Brooklyn, while attending Pratt Institute for a second Masters. In 1982 I graduated from Pratt with and MS in City and Regional planning. My debt was minimal if anything. I think I borrowed $5,000, not because I needed it but the interest was so low it was like free money.

After leaving teaching I became the Executive Assistant to the Vice President for Trinity Church, one of the richest parishes in the US. They own hundreds of thousands of square feet of commercial real estate in Lower Manhattan. After Trinity, I went on to become the Director of Real Estate for the Carnegie Hall Corporation.

I remember at 50 years of age standing on the corner of 57^th and 7^th where Carnegie Hall stood and thinking, “I am the son of immigrants, I have two Masters Degrees, I speak several languages and I am the Director of Real Estate for the most important musical venue in the United States, maybe in the world”. The Italian equivalent is La Scala in Milan. If my parents had not come to the US could I have been the same director at La Scala? I think not. Let’s not forget Bernie, Mike, John, Sharyn and Linda. Bernie became a famous architect. His firm did the Bill Gates house, all of Steve Job’s Apple flagship stores and the Constitution Center in Philadelphia. Did I mention that his father was a Polish milkman? Mike returned to San Francisco to become a master teacher in Mountain View, CA, touching the lives of countless students along the way. Did I mention that his parents were first generation Croats and his father fixed typewriters and his mother was a cook? John became the Headmaster of the oldest girl’s school in the United States and is now a professor in Las Vegas. Did I mention that his father was first generation Armeian and sold insurance? How about my late wife? She became a Dean at that prep school in Brooklyn. Did I mention that her father drove a hearse? How about my present wife Linda? She is one of the most prestigious estheticians in Manhattan. Did I mention that her mother was a first generation Sicilian seamstress in the garment district?

Okay let me break it down for you:

Bob Fumo –BA La Salle, MA NYU, MS Pratt, Total Cost = $21,000*

Bernie Cywinski- BA Columbia, MS Architecture Columbia, Total Costs = Probably the same.*

Mike Sesich—BA UC Santa Barbara**, MA Stanford = $10,500

John Esperian---BA Washington and Lee, MA Boston College, MA Columbia, Total Costs = $30,000

Sharyn—BS St John’s, MS Brooklyn College**, Total Cost= $ 0

Linda--- BA St John’s Total Cost= $16,000*

Costs Today:

Bob Fumo Approximately $240,000 (I’m being very conservative)

Bernie Cywinski; Approximately $500,000

Mike Sesich; Approximately $150,000

John Esperian; Approximately $ 330,000

Sharyn Dolan; Approximately $200,000

Linda Gladkowsky; Approximately $140,000

Lets’ keep in mind that, at least in my case, I did not start out as a good student. Bernie, John and Linda were good students and Sharyn and Mike were excellent students. BUT, we all did equally well, because we could.

Why am I telling you this story? Because these stories COULD NOT happen today. Yes, maybe sons or daughters of immigrants, who are brilliant and at the top of their classes can do it. But not sons and daughters of immigrants who are not at the top of their classes, but could become something if given a chance. If you don’t think the American Dream is dead, you’re dreaming.

Of course the Occupy Wall Streeters are correct. There is an endemic problem in the US. It is that only the wealthy and the extremely gifted can enjoy all the wonderful fruits of this country. The rest of us are worker bees.

Now I’m not blaming the wealthy, but they (as they should have) took advantage of a capitalistic system that had very few rules and boundaries. It is kind of like a group of prize fighters. They like to fight and they are good at it, but if they were allowed to fight in the street, uncontrolled, there would be chaos and they would eventually take over the street. Instead we have a sport, whether you like it or not, that has rules and boundaries, so these aggressive souls can fight away all they want and, by the way, make money at it. I think the same should be true of capitalists; they should be allowed to fight, but with rules and boundaries. The problem is now they are allowed to fight freely in the streets and they have caused great chaos and taken over the street.

I think the Occupy Wall Streeters have struck a chord, but people like the blame game. The Right says it is Obama’s and the Left’s fault and the Left says it is the Righties’ fault. It is all our faults, we let it happen.

What I think we should do for starters is that all teachers and doctors should go to school for free and health care should be a single payer. The pay back will be multifold. I don’t know if it is that simple, but it would be a step in the right direction.

* These are good guesses

** State schools

My nephew and his beautiful girlfriend gave my wife and I this wonderful book called "Italy, The Country and Its Cuisine"and I love this section about coffee.

The Art Of Espresso

"Hot as hell, black as the devil, pure as an angel, and sweet as love--that's a perfect espresso. There are many details to attend to in the quest for the perfect caffe': precise proportions of coffee and water, pressure, water, temperature, brewing time and more. The water can not contain too much calcium, the coffee much be freshly ground every time, the espresso machine must be the correct temperature, the cups must be pre-warmed, and they have to have a rounded bottom and cannot be too thick or too thin.

The quality of the espresso is immediately apparent in the crema, or the light foam floating on its surface. If the golden brown crema has a consistency firm enough to support the sugar that is spooned onto it, and if this covering remains intact even after stirring, then there is nothing left to stand in the way of a cup of perfect pleasure"

I love the part about the cups because as a child I can remember the perfect cups and spoons that my mother brought forth to serve coffee to our guests. No styrofoam for me.

The book also lists a type of coffee in Naples that I had never heard of, "un sospeso"or "suspended" in English. I will paraphrase the book here. If someone has just completed a good deal or is having a good day, he or she orders a caffe' and a "sospeso" The suspended coffee is for some one less fortunate to drink. So someone can enter a coffee bar and ask, C'e un sospeso" or "is there and suspended coffee". The barista says yes and the person gets a coffee for free. I love this idea. I think that Starbucks ( not that I like their coffee) should start this. Go in after a good day and buy a coffee and a sospeso. Did I mention that I love the Italians. Their good things outweigh any of the bad things in their culture.

I wish you all a good day, and one in sospeso.

The Land Of The One Eyed Men

Yesterday I was watching the opening of the new Congress and I was reminded of a saying I heard many years ago; “In the land of the blind the one eyed man is king.” Not to say that this congress has any more one eyed men than the one’s that preceded it, but I do feel that with every election the one eyed men become more prevalent.

I have thought about this for some time now and I have come up with some personal conclusions. But first I would like to include something written by David Brooks of the New York Times that caught my eye, the one that I have. I’m not a big fan of Mr. Brooks, but I must say he does have two eyes. The problem is that his glasses sometimes distort his vision. Before I go on, I must confess that I am a very liberal democrat and very proud of it, but I am an equal opportunity hater and I feel that some of the most egregious one eyed men are democrats. Any way this is what Mr. Brooks wrote:

“Howard Gardner of Harvard once put together a composite picture of the extraordinarily creative person: She comes from a little place somewhat removed from the center of power and influence. As an adolescent, she feels herself outgrowing her own small circle. She moves to a metropolis and finds a group of people who share her passions and interests. She gets involved with a team to create something amazing.

Then, at some point, she finds her own problem, which is related to and yet different from the problems that concern others in her group. She breaks off and struggles and finally emerges with some new thing. She brings it back to her circle. It is tested, refined and improved.

The main point in this composite story is that creativity is not a solitary process. It happens within networks. It happens when talented people get together, when idea systems and mentalities merge.

Now imagine you are this creative person in the year 2010, 2025 or 2050. You are living in some small town in Ukraine or Kenya or some other place, foreign or domestic. You long to break out and go to a place where people are gathering to think about the things you are thinking about, creating the things you want to create.

If you are passionate about fashion, maybe you will go to Paris. If it’s engineering, maybe it’ll be Germany. But if you are passionate about many other spheres, I suspect you’ll want to be in America.

You’ll want to be in the U.S. because English has become the global language. You’ll want to come because American universities lead the world in research and draw many of the best minds from all corners of the earth.”

I have thought about this piece by Brooks and I have tried to adapt it to America itself. So let’s say you come from Tulsa, Oklahoma, not to disparage Oklahoma, but it is in the middle of the country. Let’s say you are very smart, creative, aggressive high school senior. You are the best and brightest, something I was not, maybe Brooks was. Having been a teacher for 20 years I am sure that your school, if not your parents encourage you to leave Tulsa and go to one of the elite schools in the US.

Now not all, but many of the elite schools are concentrated on the coasts. Yes I know there are elite schools throughout the country, but generally speaking the major urban centers are where someone like this ends up. As Brooks says they meet people like them and they exchange ideas. More times than not, and I am generalizing here, they don’t go back to Tulsa.

So what you have in Tulsa is not the best and brightest, they’re gone. What you do have is the blind and the one eyed men. I do not want any blind or one eyed person to take umbrage, I am using this metaphorically. Moreover, when it comes time for elections the blind scream out, “Let’s elect the one eyed man, at least he can see something”. They elect them and send them to Washington or to the State Capitals and what you have is not the blind leading the blind, but the one eyed man leading the blind and therefore he or she is KING.

Unfortunately, with the dumbing down of the American society we are doomed to be run by one eyed men, and actually, more and more by the blind themselves. This is not my opinion. We are losing educationally to the rest of the industrialized world more and more every year. Good luck friends