Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Wissahickon and the Camp Hill Train Wreck

The Wissahickon Creek is a 25 mile long stream with headwaters in the area now covered by the Montgomery Mall (near Lansdale). It winds its way through Upper and Lower Gwynedd, Whitpain, and Whitemarsh before flowing into a deep gorge as it enters the city of Philadelphia. I've written about the creek here, here and here.

black and white picture of Mary Johnson Ambler
Mary Johnson Ambler (1805-1868) was a most interesting woman. Her parents lived in Bucks County and were Quakers and Mary followed in their Quaker ways. She was a very small woman, never weighing over 100 pounds.

She married Andrew Ambler, a weaver, in 1829. Three years later, Andrew purchased a Fulling Mill (which made wool cloth) and 82 acres of land in the bucolic town of Wissahickon.

The Amblers had the only well in the area at the time. When her neighbors needed water, Mary would let them take water from her well. Mary wanted local children to learn about God, so she started a Sunday school.

The Amblers raised a family and enjoyed success in their business endeavors. When Andrew died in 1850, Mary took over the mill operations with her married son, Lewis, one of her large family of seven sons and one daughter.

On July 2, 1855, the newly laid North Pennsylvania Railroad opened the Wissahickon railroad station.

The North Pennsylvania Railroad later became the Bethlehem branch of the Reading Railroad and is now SEPTA's R5 line to Lansdale.

an old steam locomotive
The railroad served as a great spur to local commerce, transporting both produce and people, and led to increased prosperity for the Wissahickon Valley.

Then came a fateful day... On July 17, 1856 there was a terrible train wreck.

An excursion train known as the "Picnic Special," had been contracted by St. Michael's Roman Catholic Church of Philadelphia to send their Sunday School children on a picnic in Shaeff's Woods, a shaded grove near the railroad's Wissahickon station.

July 17 was one of the hottest days of the year and the children looked forward to a full day at the park. The train was packed, and was carrying at least 1000 people.

The train's locomotive was called Shakamaxon (a Native American word meaning "place where the Chiefs meet") and was running a half hour late.

At the Wissahickon station another train, the Aramingo (a Native American word meaning "Wolf Walk") heading for Philadelphia was pulling out on the single track line.

The engineer of Shakamaxon was confident he could make up for the time he had lost. He knew the Aramingo was due in the opposite direction on the same single track, but calculated they could use a siding located between them to safely pass each other.

As he neared a blind curve just past Camp Hill Station, the Aramingo was rounding the same curve coming the other direction.

The trains collided at 6:18 AM, between the Camp Hill station and the future site of the town of Fort Washington near Routes 309 and the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

The boilers made direct contact and the impact caused an explosion heard up to five miles away.

In one of the worst tragedies of the Industrial Age thus far, 59 people were killed, most of them children, and most of them burned to death, and a great many people were hurt.

When Mary Ambler heard about the accident she gathered up a bunch of medical supplies and walked two miles to the scene of the accident. When Mary arrived, there were no doctors there and no one was in charge of the rescue operation.

So Mary directed the relief efforts. She had the hurt people carried to her house. They had to tear the shutters off of buildings to order to make stretchers.

When Mary got back to her house, she took sheets and petticoats and tore them into strips to use them as bandages. Mary worked long and hard. She helped many of the hurt people and let them stay at her house until they could go home.

The service she rendered in caring for the injured was so conspicuous that after her death in 1868, the North Pennsylvania Railroad changed the name of the station from Wissahickon to Ambler. Camp Hill was renamed Felwick by the railroad in order to help its patrons "forget about the tragedy."

Later, in 1888, the town of Wissahickon itself was renamed Ambler. Now that is what I call role model.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Winter Beach

Ever since I was a very little boy, I've enjoyed going "down the shore" in the off-season. I'm not big on crowds, traffic, and the stench of sunscreen oil.

The off-season also has its memories. My dad and I would go down there in the late fall to pull the boat out of the water and trailer it to its wintering spot. The last boat ride of the season was always one of the best. The air is clear and you can usually see for miles.

The smell of manila ropes being laid up, the barnacles scraped away and the life jackets hung up in the garden shed (which smelled of dry sea grass). This year, there was no boat to pull out down the shore - but the there were some small chores to do in the summer cottage where the gas heater kept everyone and everything nice and toasty.

...and then Sunday dawned bright and brilliant and the thermometer started to climb.. 44, 48, 50, 52! 55! 56 degrees F! I walked over to the pavilion at the end of the street and took in the winter beach. The winter time is the only time beach buggies and dogs are allowed into the pristine white sands of Long Beach Island, New Jersey.

I only saw one person and three dogs.


The three pilings in the middle distance are all the remain of the boardwalk that used to line the surf at Beach Haven. My dad was a little boy at the time - but he remembers walking on the boardwalk with my grandparents. The boardwalk washed away in 1944. To see old postcards of the boardwalk (go to the bottom here)


A rolling breaker blows spray.



Seagulls line a stone jetty.



They have been busy renovating this house. I took its picture on April, 2008. (You can see that picture here, the second picture down). Its amazing what a little paint and bunch of love will do for a house. The fifth picture from the top on this page shows this, at the time, beach-front house in relationship to the beach pavilion, as it is a little over a block to the left.

The house was build for an important employee of the Baldwin Locomotive Works which was headquartered in Philadelphia, PA and the one-time world's largest builders of steam locomotives. In the postcard - you can see the Baldwin Hotel - built so that employees of the Baldwin works could come to the beach to enjoy their vacation. A train ran from Philadelphia to Beach Haven at the time. The train has been gone since 1933 and the Baldwin Hotel burned down September 24, 1960, just a few weeks before I was born.


Window Details


well equiped gargoyle
I think Tori would enjoy this Gargoyle



Only four blocks wide at this point, it is a short walk across the island to the bay side.


I hope everyone had the Merriest of Christmases -

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Comfort Was His Middle Name

Louis Comfort Tiffany (February 18, 1848 – January 17, 1933) was an American artist and designer who worked in the decorative arts and is best known for his work in stained glass.

I'll admit to having a great fondness for the ethereal glow of sunlight beaming through a stained glass window. These often-times exquisite windows are usually hard to photograph and the camera rarely sees or captures their full glory.

I greatly admire Tiffany's Tree of Life and The New Creation as well as his Wisteria series.

An example of the quiet radiance and splendor of his work has sat in my home office for years giving me great comfort in hard times.

For in my office sits a small reproduction of a member of his Autumn Landscape series - the original of which is displayed in New York's Metropolitan Museum of Art.

This little reproduction reminds me the quiet moments I've shared out in the park with the babbling stream and the unfrightened deer, moments that have both restored and nourished me in times of need. It also reminds me vividly of a day that took place twenty years ago today.

small reproduction of the window showing a deer drinking at a forested stream
This treasured item was given to me near the tail-end of the "Bubba" saga.

Those of you that have read and remember the allegorical story of "Bubba" know that I experienced a very difficult time that started a few days before Christmas twenty three years ago. A time that I've never spoken directly of... neither of the cause of the trouble, nor of what it cost me - materially, physically, mentally, and spiritually. It took me several long and bleak years to overcome the hatred and loathing of certain people and of myself that filled me that awful holiday season.

It was cold sunny winter weekend morning, three years after that, when someone very dear to me - someone that stood by me through thick and thin - knocked quietly on my half shut door and brought to me a little brown box wrapped in glossy red poinsettia paper. They said nothing, but smiled softly at me - their bright eyes saying, "Merry Christmas - love surrounds you today."

I unwrapped the box while they stood there watching my abused and beat up, trembling hands struggle with the ribbon and the scotch tape. The box had been opened and simply tucked back together - when I saw that... and realized the love behind that simple gesture - that thoughtful preparation, I shivered, not from the cold but from the spreading warmth within me. Not knowing what this box would contain, I opened it gently and gasped out loud when I held it up and saw it for the first time.

a closer view of this treasured window
That moment is seared in my memory - and I will never forget the soft smile - the soft look - the pre-opened box - and the glory of the sun streaming through this window and into the very depths of my being.

This year, while I struggle with things at work business-wise, I know I am most fortunate - for each day it is with comfort I look around at my world and remember that through thick and thin - love surrounds me.

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

The Legend of the Poinsettia

a beautiful stained glass window with children holding hands
Maria and Pablo lived in a tiny village in Mexico. Because Christmas time at their house did not include many gifts, Maria and Pablo looked forward to the Christmas festivities at the village church with great joy and anticipation.

To honor the birth of Christ, the church displayed a beautiful manger that drew crowds of admirers. Villagers walked miles to admire the manger, bringing lovely, expensive gifts for the Baby Jesus. As Maria and Pablo watched the villagers place their gifts in the soft hay around the manger, they felt sad. They had no money to buy gifts for their family and no money to buy a gift for the Baby Jesus.

One Christmas Eve, Maria and Pablo walked to the church for that evening's services, wishing desperately that they had a gift to bring. Just then, a soft glowing light shone through the darkness, and the shadowy outline of an angel appeared above them.

Maria and Pablo were afraid, but the angel comforted them, instructing them to pick some of the short green weeds that were growing by the road. They should bring the plants to the church, the angel explained, and place them near the manger as their gift to the Baby Jesus. Then just as quickly as she had appeared, the angel was gone, leaving Maria and Pablo on the road looking up into the dark sky. Confused but excited, the children filled their arms with large bunches of the green weeds and hurried to the church.

When the children entered the church, many of the villagers turned to stare. As Maria and Pablo began placing the weeds around the manger, some of the villagers laughed at them. "Why are those children putting weeds by the manger?" they asked each other. Maria and Pablo began to feel embarrassed and ashamed of their gift to the Baby Jesus, but they stood bravely near the manger, placing the plants on the soft hay, as the angel had instructed.

red poinsettia blooms
Suddenly, the dull green leaves on the tops of the plants began to turn a beautiful shade of red, surrounding the Baby with beautiful blooms. The laughing villagers became silent as they watched the green plants transform into the lovely star-shaped crimson flowers we call poinsettias.

As they watched the weeds bloom before their eyes, Maria and Pablo knew they had no reason to be ashamed anymore. They had given the Baby Jesus the only gift they could--and it was the most beautiful gift of all.

Today, poinsettias are a traditional symbol of Christmas, thanks to young Maria and Pablo and their special gifts to the Baby Jesus.

Story by Stephanie Herbek

Picture of the Stained Glass Window in St. Andrew Catholic Church from My Loves, My Life (Punkn/Deanna)

Sunday, December 20, 2009

The Chester Peacock and Snow Report

Oh the weather outside is frightful,
But the fire is so delightful,
And since we've no place to go,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

Chester's family Christmas decorated tree outside in the snow
Chester the Peacock's Christmas Tree

It doesn't show signs of pausing,
And I've bought some corn for popping,
The lights are turned way down low,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

log cabin that Chester the Peacock lives in with 20 inches of snow around it
Chester the Peacock's Log Cabin House

When we finally kiss goodnight,
How I'll hate going out in the storm!
But if you'll really hold me tight,
All the way home I'll be warm.

Chester sitting on the sofa watching TV
Hey Ma!! Where's the dadblam remote?

The fire is slowly dying,
And, my dear, we're still goodbye-ing,
But as long as you love me so,
Let It Snow! Let It Snow! Let It Snow!

I think we ended up with about 8-9 inches of snow here but Chester the Peacock got 22 inches. We officially got 22 and 1/2 inches at Philadelphia International Airport - so the worse of the storm missed me by about 20 miles to the east.

I was shoveling out my driveway when the neighbor comes over and says, "The Missus isn't feeling well and I got to take her to the doctor's or the ER and my snow blower won't start and I can't get dug out! The ambulance service wants $600 to pick her up!" His driveway is a little longer than mine so I went over there and helped him shovel out his car - and while he was away at the doctor's I did some magic and got his snow blower to start and snowblew (is that a real word?) his driveway for him!

:)

He was so durn happy that he immediately went and got more gas and let me use it on my driveway when we got done with his. I'm still pooped - its a bit of work pushing one in deep snow. LOL! I got to do the company parking lot yet too - but the snow could have been a bigger hassle.

His Missus has emphysema and throat cancer but seems to be recovering - just wasn't her best day today.

Friday, December 18, 2009

Photos Found

Ever put something some place "safe" and then not be able to remember where that place might be?

Such was the case for these pictures of the old Turbo Machinery Building in Lansdale. I promised Martha in Pa that I would did these pictures out to share with her - and then took about four months searching high and low for them. I finally found them mixed in with some sheet music in the bench of my piano!

three story block long brick building with a white water tower behind it
My dad worked in this building back before he went to work with my Grandfather.

In the early 1900s Lansdale had established itself as a national leader in the silk hosiery industry. This building was originally known as Dexdale Hosiery Mills. The fine silk stockings manufactured at Dexdale Hosiery Mills were shipped all over the world. Their innovative machinery enabled them to produce high quality product at a high volume. Dexdale Hosiery Mills received several patents for their machines.

Eventually, the company evolved from a company that manufactured stockings to a company that manufactured the machines that make stockings. These machines were then sold to other companies and this enterprise formed the Turbo Machine Company. During WWII the factory was pressed into the war effort. It manufactured parachutes, gear for aircraft and, in a restricted area on the third floor, assembled nose cones for rockets.

In 1976, the Turbo Machine Company relocated to North Carolina. The property was then used for various purposes including warehousing, retail stores, professional offices and a tattoo shop. The property fell into disrepair and was a bit of an eyesore with graffiti and boarded up windows.

a three story block long brick building with many windows broken out and surrounded by a temporary chain link fence
As always, time waits for no one and when I heard they were going to tear the building down to make way for a Starbucks (and some other stores) I hurried down the street from my office to get some pictures.

a pile of bricks where the building once stood
The water tower came down a couple days later.

A portion of the building is now Turbo Lofts, a condominium building.

Wednesday, December 16, 2009

Gone 18, 21, and 34 Years...

...But not forgotten and greatly missed...

My Dad's Mom's gravestone with christmas wreath
My Dad's Mom

My Mom's Parent's gravestones with christmas wreath
My Mom's Parents

"Christmas Memories" by Alabama

There's a blanket of snow coverin' up the old road
to the house where I was raised
Through the window I see the lights on the tree
and a glow from the old fireplace
Though it all looks the same so much as changed
from the way it used to be.

Christmas memories of happy years gone by
They come back to me and keep me warm inside
Still those Christmas memories make me cry.

Now the stockings are filled;
the house is still and the kids are dreamin' away
There's that old easy chair,
me and Daddy sat there waitin' for Santa's sleigh
Now Daddy's gone but we carry on
'cause the little ones will need.

Christmas memories of happy years gone by
They come back to me and keep me warm inside
Oh they mean so much to me
Those Christmas memories make me cry.


Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Precious Cargo!

picture of my car with something orange in the backseat and a yellow sign in the window
"Homer's Barbershop Quartet" is the first episode of The Simpsons' fifth season. It features The Be Sharps, a barbershop quartet founded by Homer Simpson.

record album cover with the Be Sharps
Bart Simpson and his sister Lisa notice a picture of their father, Homer, on the cover of an old LP album at a swap meet. Homer explains to his family that he, Principal Skinner, Barney Gumble, and Apu Nahasapeemapetilon (can you say, "Nahasapeemapetilon" kids?) recorded a barbershop quartet album in 1985, which catapulted them to national fame. At the end of the episode, the group reunites to perform a concert on the roof of Moe's Tavern, singing their number-one smash hit "Conehead on Board".

And 1... and 2... and 3...

Conehead on board, how I've adored,
That sign on my car's windowpane
A bounce in my step; loaded with pep,
'Cause I'm driving in the carpool lane.

Call me a square; friend, I don't care
That little yellow sign can't be ignored
I'm telling you it's mighty nice
Each trip's a trip to paradise
With my conehead on board.

(applause)

So what brought that up? Well... Late last Saturday night, Cappy was fussy and simply wouldn't sleep. He kept saying, "I am Caaaaaaaaap-peeeeeeeeeeee" over and over again like a mournful fog horn.

So like any parent looking for some peace and quiet, I tried giving him warm milk but that went right through him (get it? it went right through him), then Tylenol PM and finally I pulled out the "big gun", NyQuil...

Alas, nothing worked so I loaded him up in the car and took him for a drive around the neighborhood and ended up over at the supermarket to replace my depleted NyQuil supply.

Cappy sitting in the backseat of my car with a yellow cone on board sign in the window
When I came out of the store with my bagful of NyQuil I found 4 old ladies standing around my car and when I got into the driver's seat, I overheard one saying to another, "That guy has a couple screws loose."

Oh, if they only knew...

You can watch The Be Sharps sing their hit (all wrong) here.

For you do-it-yourselfers - I give you a freebie! Help yourself:

image of cone on board sign

My thanks to Yaya and LadyStyx for the inspiration.

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Weekend Wordle

It's that time of week again!

It's time for Shan's Weekend Wordles.

Here's what you do:

1) Go to Wordle.net to create your Wordle.

2) Post it on your blog with a link to Shan's Week~End Wordles or Last Shreds Of Sanity.

3) Once that's done, go back to Last Shreds Of Sanity and sign the Mr Linky that she'll have up - this will help direct those who play along to your blog.

Using the lyrics from This Land is My Land, This Land is Your Land.

Woodrow Wilson "Woody" Guthrie (July 14, 1912 – October 3, 1967) is best known as an American singer-songwriter and folk musician, whose musical legacy includes hundreds of political, traditional and children's songs, ballads and improvised works.

This land is your land, this land is my land
From California to the New York Island
From the Redwood Forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking that ribbon of highway
I saw above me that endless skyway
I saw below me that golden valley
This land was made for you and me.

I roamed and I rambled and I followed my footsteps
To the sparkling sands of her diamond deserts
While all around me a voice was sounding
Saying this land was made for you and me.

When the sun came shining, and I was strolling
And the wheat fields waving and the dust clouds rolling
A voice was chanting, As the fog was lifting,
This land was made for you and me.

As I went walking I saw a sign there
And on the sign it said "No Trespassing."
But on the other side it didn't say nothing,
That side was made for you and me.

Nobody living can ever stop me,
As I go walking that freedom highway;
Nobody living can ever make me turn back
This land was made for you and me.

In the squares of the city, In the shadow of a steeple;
By the relief office, I'd seen my people.
As they stood there hungry, I stood there asking,
Is this land made for you and me?

This land is your land, this land is my land
From California to the New York Island
From the Redwood Forest to the Gulf Stream waters
This land was made for you and me.


word cloud showing words from the song

Friday, December 11, 2009

Give My Creation Life!

Time is a flying.

Did you know it was in 1974 that Mel Brook's Young Frankenstein was filmed?

I can still recall some of the hilarious dialogue like it was yesterday. Gene Wilder and Marty Feldman (RIP) were a laugh a minute.

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [to Igor] Now that brain that you gave me. Was it Hans Delbruck's?

Igor: [pause, then] No.

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Ah! Very good. Would you mind telling me whose brain I did put in?

Igor: Then you won't be angry?

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: I will NOT be angry.

Igor: Abby Someone.

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [pause, then] Abby Someone. Abby who?

Igor: Abby Normal.

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [pause, then] Abby Normal?

Igor: I'm almost sure that was the name.

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: [chuckles, then] Are you saying that I put an abnormal brain into a seven and a half foot long, fifty-four inch wide GORILLA?

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Is that what you're telling me?!?!?!

...What brought that up was... Well...

Dr. Frederick Frankenstein: Life! Do you hear me!? Give MY CREE-AA-TIONNN... LIFE!



Soon... soon... Cappy will be singing... I hope... He umm.. needs some voice training...

Thursday, December 10, 2009

It's A Long Long Way to Go

Many of the roads where I live were built many years ago and are amongst the oldest in the United States.

As early as 1700, the Pennsylvania legislature authorized the building of "King's Highways" at the colony's expense that were to be fifty feet wide. The first, completed in 1706, went south from Philadelphia to Chester and is now known as Route 13. The second, built in 1711, went north from Philadelphia to New Hope, then later to Easton and is now known as Route 611.

Eventually, radiating out of Philadelphia like spokes on a wagon-wheel were a number of roads that evolved into amongst others, Chester Pike, Philadelphia and Lancaster Road, Ridge Pike, Germantown (and Perkiomen) Pike c.1801, Skippack Pike, Sumneytown Pike, Butler Pike, Bethlehem Pike and Bistol Pike. Many of these roads were built as toll roads back in the 1700's and early 1800's. The highway tolls paid for both the creation and maintenance of the road.

early turnpike and toll house with horse and wagon stopped in front of it
A long slender pole, called a pike, was placed across the road to block traffic at the tollgate in front of the toll collector's house. When the fare was paid, the pike was turned on a pivot (hence the term, turnpike) and the horse-drawn conveyance allowed to pass.

Even then, folks wanted to know where they were and far they had to go - so all of the local turnpikes had stone mile markers showing the number of miles from the center of their universe, the City of Philadelphia. A few of these venerable stones remain and there is one near my house on Ridge Pike near Mile Long Hill bearing the number 18.

I spotted this old stone mile marker a few weeks ago over in Green Lane Park:

an old roadside mile maker saying 34 miles to P meaning Philadelphia
As I know a lot of people with umm... to be polite, the clinical way of saying it is, they suffer from urinary incontinence, I had to laugh thinking about how they would react to seeing this mile marker.

the philadelphia art museum is a greek temple like building on top of a hill near the river
The next day, I would be in "P", as I went to the Philadelphia Art Museum where the finish line for the Philadelphia Marathon had been set up.

Imagine my glee when I saw literally hundreds of blue port-a-potties lining the route of the marathon.

the view from the top of the art museum steps down the parkway to city hall - the street is lined with portable toilets
This is the view from the top of the Art Museum steps looking down the Ben Franklin Parkway toward William Penn's statue on top of City Hall. You can see a row of blue and green port-a-potties to the right of General George Washington's statue.

The fountain in the middle distance in Logan Square is near the "Dinosaur" museum.

A nice collection of photographs showing surviving milestones is (here)

Source of the old turnpike photograph (here)

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Social Consciousness

I've really been struggling with writing lately. I've a bunch of new pictures in Flickr which you can access via the side bar - showing a half dozen trips I've taken lately but I just can't find the words to describe or explain them.

I've started to write - and assembled pictures at least on five separate occasions and then ... threw what little I had away in exasperation or disgust with how uninteresting I found the topic at hand after I had started with them. I would never make a good deadline writer. I find doing things, just about anything, on a regular basis to be difficult.

Well - I'm going to publish this ... messy hodgepodge ... and call it Long-Before-Friday Fragments or maybe I'm just way late and its Long-After-Friday, anywhooooooo.

The first unblogged trip was to the Philadelphia Art Museum on a perfect sunny day to take pictures of the newly renovated facade. I also saw the tail end of the Philadelphia Marathon and admired the determination of those crossing the finish line literally hours after the winners. You can see the pictures (here) - there was some nudity involved.

two pigeons preening each other
Two pigeons on the 30th Street Train Station Platform


The second unblogged trip was some Thanksgiving Day shots of the family and the pets. You can see the pictures (here).

A third unblogged trip to Burlington, New Jersey (the home of the world famous coat factory and the little known Rickshaw Manufacturing Company that actually sold rickshaws to China. Pictures from this trip are mixed in with the Thanksgiving day ones above.

Last weekend, I went to Massey, Maryland on the Eastern Shore of the Chesapeake Bay to attend an Open Hanger Party at a small grass airstrip and museum. It was cold but sunny and lots and lots of airplanes were seen taking off, landing and doing stunts. There was also a lot of wonderful food. You can see the pictures (here).

I apologize for not being able to completely describe all the pictures.

I saw the statute below at the West entrance to the Philadelphia Art Museum. It stuck me with its ... somewhat hideous but evocative presence.

a statute outside the philadelphia art museum with three women - the outer two holding up two young starved men
Statue of Social Consciousness - sculpted by Jacob Epstein, 1954

A grand sane towering seated mother Chair'd in the adamant of Time. -Walt Whitman

a line of orange cones wait outside the door to the museum, appearing as if they want to go in
Since the current exhibit at the museum is titled "Arshile Gorky in Context" and runs from October 16, 2009 to January 10, 2010, one has to assume these orange coneheads have rather eclectic taste in art. I went in to check Mr. Gorky out - based on the orange conehead's recommendations, of course.

a green canvas with yellow and blue splotches on it
Arshile Gorky was an expatriate Russian artist that lived in New York City. Born in Turkish Armenia, Gorky (c. 1902– 1948) emigrated to America in 1920.

At the risk of insulting school age children everywhere, I call this "tape to the front of the refrigerator" art.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Weekend Wordle

It's that time of week again!

It's time for Shan's Weekend Wordles.

Here's what you do:

1) Go to Wordle.net to create your Wordle.

2) Post it on your blog with a link to Shan's Week~End Wordles or Last Shreds Of Sanity.

3) Once that's done, go back to Last Shreds Of Sanity and sign the Mr Linky that she'll have up - this will help direct those who play along to your blog.

Using the lyrics from O Holy Night.

word cloud showing words from o holy night in christmas colors

Thanks to LadyStyx for the idea.


Thursday, December 3, 2009

Yes, There is a Santa Claus

Saint Nicholas of Myra might be the primary inspiration for Santa Claus. He was a 4th-century Greek Christian bishop of Myra in what is now Demre, Turkey. Nicholas was famous for his generous gifts to the poor, in particular presenting the three impoverished daughters of a pious Christian with dowries so that they would not have to become prostitutes. (I raised an eyebrow on learning that.)

Another possible inspiration for Santa Claus is Odin, a major god amongst the Germanic peoples prior to their Christianization. Odin was the god of warfare (My eyebrow was raised again!) and was portrayed as a bearded old man who rode on a horse named Sleipnir through the skies. Each year at the Yule festival (winter solstice time) children would put their boots with food in them outside the door for Odin's horse. In return, Odin would then reward those children for their kindness by replacing Sleipnir's food with gifts or candy.

When I was a little boy, my Dad's Mother would label all her Christmas presents with a "From: Santa Claus" If my brothers or I said, "Thank you Grandma!" when opening one of these gifts, she would exclaim, "Oh! You need to thank Santa!" She was such a wonderful person, my brothers and I humored her for years after we no longer believed in Santa the person by saying, "Thanks Santa!" and watched her eyes do a Santa-like twinkle.

But none of this is what I'm referring to when I say Santa Claus. For me, Santa Claus is that spirit that lives in each of us that inspires us to give a helping hand to those in need, give a thoughtful gift to a loved one, or simply share a time of laughter and good cheer with those around us.

My younger brother and two guys that he knows, get together weekly to hang out and practice playing their guitars together. They jokingly call themselves the "Fat Cats" or in the summer, when it gets warm in the garage and they play without their shirts on, they call themselves, "The Bare Bellies". Each morning after his weekly practice/jam session, my brother comes into work with a smile on his face, happy to have been involved with a bunch of guys that truly get along with each other in rare fashion.

And each winter, around Thanksgiving, the "Bare Bellies" practise their repertoire of Christmas music and hymns while someone gets busy organizing around a half-dozen gigs for them at local nursing homes.

And so it was, last night, I attended a holiday sing-a-long at a local nursing home. I do not play, nor do I stand up with the band and sing. I just smile like crazy, help the folks find seats, set up and put away chairs, move furniture, and help pass around handouts with the lyrics to the songs. I often end up helping some of the tired older folks find their place in the handout and turn the pages for some with hands more beat up than mine.

a nurse helps an older gentlemen with a walker get to a chair - the crowd is growing
The 'gig' is very informal and usually last about an hour. Sometimes the band brings cookies and sometimes the nursing home staff provides the band with some. Somehow, there are always cookies to be found.

Each time I go see them play, I see Santa Claus in the room. The three guitar players and the two ladies that sing along with the guys, light up the faces of so many care- or time-worn faces.

I've seen 90+ year old ladies hoot and holler, clap their hands and giggle, and once a couple even got up, slowly made their way over to the microphone using their walkers and started singing. They sang all 6+ verses of "Oh Christmas Tree" in German. I don't think there was a dry eye in the room when they finished...not even on any of the nurses.

the band plays and sings to the audience
At the end of what seems to be an oh-so-brief time, seeing the sea of happy faces, the mouthed "thank you's!", talking to (the always) some that seem to have no one to talk to, and having enjoyed the warmth (both inside and out as the places are usually well-heated!) I go home and find myself looking forward to the next one.

For me - this is the holiday spirit - and I'm unabashedly proud of my 'little brother' for doing these gigs - for this is what Santa Claus is all about.

In closing, I want to thank you all for your kind comments and e-mails on my previous entry. It made today a lot easier -

P.s., I thank Alice Kay for sending me Journey's "Don't Stop Believin'" so I can practise up for an upcoming Vlog. Somehow I think Cappy is gonna be singing on camera - but with me, you never know.

:)

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Times Are A Changing

You may have noticed I've not been in the holiday mood nor quite so prolific with posting new entries of late - and this will probably continue for the foreseeable future. I will be trying to comment as much as I can but will probably not be writing as much.

Why?

Things have become rather difficult of late - finances have become squeezed and things at work continue to be slow - the effort required to help keep a small computer consulting firm that focuses on the Pharmaceutical industry, specifically new drug development work, afloat has taken its toll on me both in terms of creative energy and health.

As evidenced with the over 58,000 people being recently laid off by drug companies large (such as Merck and Co., Pfizer, Eli Lily, and Johnson and Johnson) and small, there is a lot cutting back and retrenching going on in the industry. The consultant is usually the first to go and the last one invited back.

And while we desire so many illnesses to be cured "someday", illnesses like Cancer in every form, Alzheimer's disease, and Diabetes, a great many drugs produced today do not cure anything at all. Too many drugs are "take them for life" and "work" by suppressing the symptoms and do nothing at all to address and terminate the underlying cause of the disease. I don't like this situation - I feel these sorts of drugs come from the unspoken market dictate, "we want to sell pills - not cure anyone". I am struggling with the inner confict this has caused me.

The largest growth market for "drug company" consultants like me, at the moment, seems to be assessing, analysing, and figuring out how to take on the ever increasing and ever changing regulatory burdens imposed by the U.S. Government.

This burden is imposed through the governments ever increasing minions at the Food and Drug Administration (FDA), the National Institute of Health, Department of Health and Human Services, The Health Care Financing Administration (Medicare), National Academy of Sciences/Institute of Medicine, the National Cancer Institute and (too) many others.

As with many other US businesses, the productive (i.e., someone that makes something other than paperwork) workforce labors under a multitude of productivity-stifling laws, regulations, and other forms of "official-ese" and as you can see with the examples of GM, Ford, and Chrysler, the cost of this burden may well lead to a company's demise.

Do not misunderstand me, I feel that both drug and job safety as well as job security are very important. Competing with countries with little to no regard for safety or security (e.g., China) however, has become nearly impossible. I guess there is a lot of safety but no security with staying home away from dangers at work because one is unemployed.

Moreover the self-injuring US public speaks when it votes with its wallet - and goes to places like Walmart and buys cheaply made, inexpensive products from China. This seemingly sensible behaviour has severely exacerbated this country's economic woes.

I do understand the feeling that "big business" in the USA needs to be watched - the hunt for the almighty dollar most certainly causes all sorts of bad behaviour. It seems to be wishful thinking that big business will be a "good citizen" just because of some ordinary "innate" desire to do the "right" thing. Unrestrained capitalism has led to over-exploitation at every level including environmental and the workforce.

I find it really ironic that "communist" China is the powerhouse of Capitalism in the world today.

At any rate, my focus over the foreseeable future will be "reinventing" the company for which I work in order to find some business niche(s) that will generate income and failing that, filling in the unemployment forms and filing them. My brother, as the owner of the business does not even have this "luxury" - for him the endgame is working through bankruptcy proceedings. So I am absorbed with helping him avoid this at all practical costs.

I welcome any reasoned and practical suggestion(s). As stressful and strained as the times are - I am blessed with knowing I've support, even if its just in the form of "ineffectual" words. Believe me - you probably will never know just how effective those words of yours may be.