TheTransience of Technology

In todays world, technology is ever changing. To keep up with it all is impractical at best. Todays article is about figuring out what level of technology does a person want or need. I write this because my internet went out. I've spent hours on the phone with various technicians. I'm always a fan of the telephone prompter system. By the time I got to talk to a human, I was pondering the irony of the term customer service. There are so many facets that make up a computer, that by the time I got to the menu they directed me to I felt like a blind person wandering through traffic on the thruway. Even the definition of the word computer is a tad oblique. Computer:A programmable machine that performs high-speed processing of numbers, as well as of text, graphics, symbols, and sound. All computers contain a central processing unit that interprets and executes instructions; input devices, such as a keyboard and a mouse, through which data and commands enter the computer; memory that enables the computer to store programs and data; and output devices, such as printers and display screens, that show the results after the computer has processed data. At no point in the definition does it even mention the fact that it requires a certain level of expertise in technology to work one of these things. Today there were technicians at my house checking and rechecking the possible dilemma of why the wireless connection wouldn't work. They changed the modem and all the lights indicated that the computer was receiving a signal. After several hours and phone calls to even more technicians they gave up and said the computer needed to be fixed. The wireless card wasn't working, even though it showed it was. Well as they were leaving I noticed the Vonage router wasn't pugged in. I stopped them and asked if this might affect the signal. They said no, the two weren't related to one another. Out of desperation I plugged it in and voila! Everything worked fine. The wireless was working. The technicians were confounded as to why. This made me think that even technical experts need to try things that seemingly make no sense. Like Fonzy kicking the jukebox. As some of you may have noticed I have been playing with photoshop. It too has created as many problems as it solves. The simplest thing requires a tremendous amount of knowledge and skill. The concept of layers I do find fascinating. Like the old overhead projectors(I'm dating myself now) where you lay transparencies over each other to show how things develop. A bit offtrack, but does anyone remember mimeograph paper? I remember loving the smell of it as the teacher handed out fresh memos to us. Holding it to our nose and deeply inhaling this odd chemical odor. It was heaven. Let's go back to photoshop. I learned and practiced photography the old fashioned way. There were different types of film with different types of grain and light sensitivity. Then you would use chemicals to develop it. Then you needed a darkroom to print. This was a whole different set of skills. I imagine this might be one of the signs of growing old, longing for the good old days. I heard the saying that you know you're old when you can't or won't keep up with technology. I often chastised my parents for this. I now find myself moving in that same general direction. I know someone who spent a good portion of their life on the cutting edge of computer technology. He started out with the punch cards, moved to various different programming languages like fortran, cobalt etc... I always ask him about what's the best thing to buy or what do I really need.Basically anything to do with computers .He works with data bases called mainframes that handle insane amounts of information for god knows who, about god knows what. Will my life be a series of relearning something I already how to do. Simply because it's the latest trend or is it really worth learning it because it will improve the quality of my life. This is not meant to be an anti-technology rant, but rather asking the question where does common sense fit into this equation? I do love technology, when it works. Perhaps it's all some zen exercise to bring us back to what's simple. Cave drawings and smoke signals were at one time the latest technology. Submitted for your approval Jody

Learning how to learn

Today is Monday and all that that entails. The wind is blowing, the trees are rustling and the cat is purring. There's an exercise for post traumatic stress victims. This exercise is simply stating aloud the obvious things that are around you. Like I am sitting in this swivel chair. I have blue denim shorts on. My body is aching from not exercising for over a week etc...This is a kind of reality inventory to let your mind know that the environment you're in is safe and non-threatening. I do this periodically when my mind is playing the "what if" game. What if this happens? What if that happens? It can go on and on indefinitely. I bring this up because I have been suffering from free floating anxiety. I just finished a cycle of medicine that kills these little monsters that have illegally been squatting in my digestive system. I do feel better, but what if it's only because the medicine made me feel so awful. There I go again, "What if?". I'm using todays' blog as that exercise. The more attractive cousin to the "What if?" game is a much healthier and productive one that I've stumbled across in desperation. It's called "I wonder if?" One might say it's just semantics and it's the same game with a different name. I believe the distinction lies in the connotation of the words. As a child I remember learning to immediately lie or deny any inquiry that began with the word what. Some examples that come to mind are: What are you doing? What is that in your hand? What have you done? What's wrong with you? etc... Even to this day I have to catch myself when asked a question with the word what. My defense system immediately goes on alert. The difference today is I have the option of replying with such pithy and privacy protecting retorts as: I don't see how it's any of your business. I am not at liberty to say at this time. It's of a personal nature. etc...The advantage here is I treat myself with the same dignity as I treat others and I'm being honest. Previously I would answer with whatever I thought that person wanted to hear. One of my best friends finally pinned me down on this behavior. I was obviously miserable and she would ask "How are you?" I would always reply "Who me? I'm fine" She then said "Jody, that's such bullshit! You're life is in a shambles and you now choose to shut out the only people who really care about you? Someone needs to tell you you're not fine. In fact, as they said in "Pulp Fiction"...'You're very fucking far from being O.K.!' Keep this up and you'll flush yourself back down the same shit hole you climbed out of." I answered with "Don't be shy , tell me what you really think. I just don't want to bother people with my problems." Replying she says "It's your self-deluding ass logic! That's what's troubling me dude." Getting fed up I snap ' Why don't you mind you own business?" Smiling she says " Well at least now you're being honest. If you don't want to talk to me, then talk to somebody please. Your vicious cycle of self-pity and misery is starting to bore me." She turned and left. I did a little soul searching.I came up with the thought that in doing this I am not being true to myself. The saying "To thine own self be true." is a profound little group of words. "I wonder if" opens the door to possibilities , without the necessity to defend oneself. It often includes the hint of hope. The word wonder is defined as:a. One that arouses awe, astonishment, surprise, or admiration; a marvel:b. The emotion aroused by something awe-inspiring, astounding, or marvelous:4. often Wonder A monumental human creation regarded with awe, especially one of seven monuments of the ancient world that appeared on various lists of late antiquity. So instead of using the word, what try wonder on for size. It fit me a lot better. Now let's move on with the intended purpose of todays piece. Learning how to learn is a concept that has acted as door stop to prevent my mind from slamming shut. I remind myself daily, I know only a little and more will be revealed. A story that comes to mind is a skit we would perform at gymnastics camp. As counselors we were required to write and perform a series of skits for the campers. The skit that comes to mind is called "How Not To Spot". Whenever this skit was being performed all the veteran counselors would run and hide. The skit was based on a combination of Bugs Bunny and Monty Python. An instructor would go on stage and in begin a deliberate, long winded explanation, in a pompous voice about how to spot e.g. "The kick to handstand and hold." "The press to handstand" etc.. The instructor would then ask for a volunteer. A counselor would come on stage and play a very uncoordinated stuborn student, who was virtually unteachable. The instructor would place the student in the position required for the move and assist them. The student was to make it as hard as possible for the instructor to spot. The finale comes with the press to handstand finish where the students legs are straddled and they won't bring them together. The instructor strains, then raises a finger as if striking genius. He then karate chops the student in the crotch. Thus collapsing the poor unwary student. The crowd roars with laughter. The instructor then says "Next we will..." The poor wounded instructor(student) limps off the stage. The skit ends and everyone takes a bow. The purpose of telling this delightful allegorical tale is to point out some important themes in learning and teaching. One that immediately comes to mind is: "The end does not justify the means, the end is the means." It's like saying"I'm really very sorry Mr. Mcgillicutty the operation was a success , but the patient died." Another is: "What does it profit a man to win the world and lose his soul." Here we have the successful person who because of how he went about getting what he wanted, can't appreciate what he has. One thing that has acted as a guiding light through my life is the concept of, not judging what a person does , but rather why they do it. My mother would tell me the story of seeing 2 men crawl out of a hole. She would ask me "Whose life was harder?" I would answer "I have no idea." She then would explain that in order to know how difficult the persons' journey was, you would need to first know how deep the hole was that he climbed out of. I apply these ideas when I train people in the gym. I am not so concerned as to the fact that the person isn't reaching their goals, but why they aren't. Then I place myself as close as I can into their body and situation. By doing this I can better reconcile the 2 perspectives and why they aren't connecting. I always tell someone if you want to learn something from someone. It's better to talk to those who had difficulty learning it. For it's these students who hold the key to overcoming your obstacles. If you really want to learn something do your absolute utmost to leave your ego out of it. Learning it or not learning it can not define who and what you are. Ambition or drive such as this actually can hinder the learning process. Using myself as an example, i want to learn how to type. Yet I still make no effort improve it. As the evidence would suggest I feel I'm somehow above the laws of typing. I wonder if it would help if I sat down and did the necessary work.Would I learn it? Could I learn it? We'll see when enough is enough. So, here I am hunting and pecking and becoming frustrated that I can't type. Thoughts like, I don't need to learn how to type it will just come to me as time goes by. Well it has been 30 years and I still type no better. I was sort of hoping for some miraculous tech gadget to make it all go away. It appears that's not happening just yet. After reading this, I am going to give it another try.
On a slightly brighter note something I've been doing at the suggestion of a friend has been making my life better. It's a gratitude list. List as many things as you can in a few minutes that your grateful for. It may sound a little touchy feely, but it has really been a mood balancer. There are a tremendous amount of negative thoughts that aren't paying any rent to stay in my head. This list evicts some of the vagrants who are trying to squat there. It also provides me with a modicum of serenity. Submitted for your approval Jody

Mysterious Sounds,Synchronicity and the Hokey Pokey

The River Aare in Swizerland.






The following story is an editing of a letter I wrote to my daughter Ammba. Read it as though it was wriiten to you when you were 10 years old. I've searched and can only find these photos of the river. Riding the current has become a sport there. Yesterday was Harry and Sally’s wedding. It was very nice. Everyone was dressed up in what Geraldine calls"your Sunday go to meeting clothes."and your papi was wearing his light blue linen suit. Hold on to your chair because what I'm about to tell you may shock you.Tammy and I danced now as soon as you stop giggling I'll continue. .... are you done yet? ... how about now?... now? O.K. it wasn't that funny. So as I was saying we danced and talked and met lots of new people. The man I was sitting next to was from Switzerland, it's a country bordering the country shaped like a boot.That's right Italy. We talked, I told him as a child I used to go to Switzerland every summer. I stayed in a town called Ascona. Chris ( The man sitting next to me ) gets all excited and says he loves Ascona and asks when was I there? I tell him when I was 12 years old and he tells me he was there too that year and in the summer. So we were both in this small little town at the same time. So imagine this 35 years ago a 12 year old boy from New York was in Ascona Switzerland and this 22 year old guy was there too. We could have been sitting at the same cafe or passed each other in the street. He knows where I stayed a place called Casa Wolfgang a group of little houses overlooking Lago Maggiore. We talked about lots of things and he tells me about a place called Bern, the town he grew up in.Bern is a town with a river that moves really fast!I told him I jumped off the bridge and went flying down the river. When we arrived there were all these boys and girls jumping off this bridge and their heads bobbing up and down as they flew by. I asked if I could do it, papa ulos said no and so did Geraldine. Well while they were unpacking I snuck out of the hotel and walked down to the river and watched. Kid after kid jumped in flying in the current and got out on ladders that were built on the sides. I go up to the bridge and look over and the kids say something to me in german. I had no idea what they said, one kid spoke english and told me you have to be a really good swimmer or else you won't make it to the side with the ladders or if you miss the ladders you will go into this iron grate that feeds the electric turbine and get chopped up. I go back to the hotel and tell geraldine and papa ulos that its perfectly safe and not to worry everyone is doing it. They agree and tell me to be carefull. Now my heart is pounding in my chest as I go to the bridge.This might be a very stupid thing to do. Oh well,only one way to find out.I climb up, look down and realize its higher than I thought it was and all the big kids push me back down and shake their finger at me no no little boy and laugh.By this time both my parents had found me on the bridge. I yell to papa ulos and geraldine from the bridge to watch. I climb up and without looking jump as hard as I can up and out, put my hands and legs together and fall for what seems like forever, yelling "GERONIMO!!!" Well I finally hit the water which is dark brown and wavy from the current. Splash! I go down , down, down and everything gets really dark! Now I start to wonder ,oh god, what have I done. I am going to be in such trouble, I lied to my parents and now I am going to drown. Yikes!! I start to swim up and up and up my lungs start to burn, finally I see the surface and other bodies are flying by. I hear this really weird sound underwater like sticks breaking but really loud snap! snap! snap! What the heck is that? Well my head pops up and In am in heaven I made it and I can swim fine. So I enjoy the ride and watch ladder after ladder go by then I see a sign in german DIE GAHFER!! in red with an electric lightning bolt. I think to myself "what did they say about the end?" O.K., I was flying down the Aare river ( thats its name the Aare river) when I saw the danger sign. My heart started beating faster than a horse running at full speed. Clipety clop clipity clop boom boom!!Now I remember what that boy said"if you miss the ladders you will go into this iron grate that feeds the electric turbine and get chopped up." I was having such a good time I almost forgot these little details. I started swimming as fast as I could to the side with the ladders. The water was moving even faster now. I swam with every ounce of strength I had. My arms started to burn then my legs I could barely lift my arms or kick anymore when I reached out and grabbed for the ladder I was going so fast my fingers slipped off. There was 1 more ladder till the gate. I turned around and started swimming against the current, but close to the side I grabbed the last ladder with both hands and hung in the water like a flag waving in the wind. Huffing to catch my breath, after about 5 minutes I climbed out and sat down by the side of the river and just stared. I walked down to where the danger sign was and saw the was a big drop into metal and churning water. I guess I would have died. Wow! I started to walk back to the bridge feeling incredible. I beat death and I am here to tell the story. Oh Crap!! If I tell my dad or geraldine they will never let me jump off that bridge again. I guess I have to keep this little adventure to myself. Maybe I'll tell my kids about it when I grow up. I wonder if I will have kids, and what if they are like me? Well I guess that would be cool, I could play with them. What if it's a girl? Yuck! Now I have something else to worry about.So after about a 20min walk, I saw geraldine on the other side of the river . I yelled hey Ma !! Did you you see that? She shook her head no!! No! how could she not have seen that? It was the coolest thing in the world. Oh well, I guess I could go again, but start swimming to the ladder sooner, a lot sooner. So I walked back up to the bridge and got in line with the other kids. I felt very brave, I was the youngest there. So that's what I did all afternoon.I jumped over and over again untill it got dark. I must have jump and flew about 15 times. Every time it was the same, splash, darkness, swim to the top and hear the loud snap, snap of something cracking. I never knew what caused that sound. Well all the kids went home and so did I. I was freezing and wet walking back to the hotel. I got there and took a shower, my stomach started to hurt and I felt like throwing up. I know this feeling, I'm getting sick. I wasn't hungry and started to get a fever. As the night went on I got sicker and sicker untill I was throwing up and shaking with fever. My dad called down to the front desk to ask for a doctor. There was a knock on the door. The doctor came in and they talked in german for about 10 min. I wonder if I'll get a lollypop.Wow! It sounds so cool to hear another language and my dad can speak it. My mom is the smart one , but why can't she speak other languages? Does that mean my dad is smarter? Who cares they're both brainiac know it alls. My dad told me the doctor was here to examine me. This very tall thin man with a big gray bushy mustache bends down and says "Augchelly blachkten spechtrinfunkel" ( thats made up , not really german) I look at my dad, he says stick out your tongue, I think ,at who? I do he sticks a pop sickle stick down my throat til I gag. "Huchen nicker bocker nugen"! I figure he wants me to stay still.See I am wiggling all over the place and usually unc is there to take care of me. He tells my dad something in german and he answers. My dad tells me to lie on my side and take down my pants. Uh oh!! I know what this is, something's going up my butt, probably a thermometer. After he takes my temperature. He says " hiken minkleblakentispock nokelguggen hittchen tinkle." Uh oh! That sounds really bad! I say with my voice raising "DAAAD"? what did he say? He sits down besides me and puts his hand on my leg and say softly Jody, the doctor says you need a shot because your body isn't used to the bacteria from the river water. You probably swallowed a lot today with jumping off the bridge.(I'm shouting this) A SHOT!!!! NO FLIPPEN WAY MAN THAT DUDE ANINT STICKEN ANYTHING IN ME ANYMORE OR I'M GOING TO TELL UNC. YOU HEAR ME? I'M SERIOUS!!!!!!!!! I run into the bathroom and lock the door.I hear lots of talking some in german some in english. Geraldine comes to the door and says Sweety.. I interupt and say "sweety my ass" You have him stick something in you. If Unc was here this wouldn't happen.

As I was saying, I was in the bathroom and refusing to come out. After a lot of coaxing and a long distance phone call to unc I let the doctor give me a shot. It wasn't so bad. What was all the fuss about? Oh, it was me. As the doctor's leaving I say " Yo doc, thanks, no I mean Donkey Shin" He gives me a little smile and leaves. Hey! Where's my lollypop? No, better keep my mouth closed . The next day I felt fine. We were leaving to go on to the next town, so I didn't get a chance to jump in the river again and till this day I still want to do it again.If you remember , before this story started I was sitting at the table at Harry's wedding talking to Chris. We talked all day about traveling through Switzerland and all the fun things to do.I asked him "Do you know what that crackling sound underwater was?" Chris smiles and says" It's the force of the water churning the stones. They roll over each other." He then asked me if I was in AA and I said "yes.isn't everyone? As a matter of fact Harry is my sponser." He said "Oh! now I know why we were put together. I am Harry’s sponser." So that's the story of Harry and Sally’s wedding.

Masters of Movement

These are some photos I picked for a study in movement. I feel I must warn you now of the motility of this narrative .The pelican and I have an interesting story. After having shot nothing but underwater photography for years, I had an impulse to photograph something on land. I went for a drive around the island of Cozumel in search of inspiration. As I drove along the tranversal I noticed an abundance of vultures circling above. Though interesting subjects, the thought of approaching rotting carrion was sufficient motivation to drive on. With the notion of birds I now had a direction. As I arrived to the other side I saw a flock of Pelicans(not seagulls).For those of you not familiar the band, there is a song called "Wishing(IfIhadaphotograph)"by Flock of Seagulls" in the 80'swww.youtube.com/watch?v=iS9RPyznAPg&feature=related This (and please pardon the pun) turned the tide of my decision. It seemed like it would be a similar challenge. Wanting to get closer to my subjects I continued around to the Punta Tunich pier. I remembered seeing lots of Pelicans here from the dive boats. I parked and started to set up my gear. I organized the various lenses and laid the sun shades next to them. I began trying to photograph these gliding guardians of the shore as they circled the pier. The timing and lighting were proving to be really challenging. I thought maybe a bigger zoom lens with a longer shade to keep out the glare would do the trick. I was about to change the lens when I saw a very curious pelican poking around in my camera bag. It became like a scene from "High Noon", each waiting for the other to make a move. We parried back and forth in some human/avian tango.I was trying to get a great shot, while he was inspecting what goodies he could scavenge. He decided on my newest and most expensive sunshade. This wily bird began backing away with it in his beak.I drew first by raising my camera and trying to take his photo, but to no avail the camera jammed. It was no contest. He took off, flying a slow lazy circle above me. No matter what I did I couldn't get him facing me. Shooting the hind end lacks the artistic touch. Just when I was about to give up he returns and has the sunshade in his beak. The pleading began, but I didn't really have anything to trade.He tauntingly takes off again with the sunshade in his beak this time soaring triumphantly. Finally deciding to liberate it very far from the pier. I didn't get very good photos that day , but I learned that not only are we watching them, they're watching us. If you've never watched a pelican fly or plunge into the sea for food, I recommend taking the time to do so. Another story along this line comes to mind. I was diving a site in the Galapogos Islands called the "Washing Machine." As you may surmise from the name there is a lot of oceanic movement at this dive location. The first thing you need to do is swim to the bottom as fast as possible.The reason for this is diving here is about flying back and forth with unbelievable oceanic surge. On the way down you get tossed about as if on an amusement park ride. The surge swings hundreds of yards at a time, you're just along for the ride. Upon reaching the sea floor, I dug my hands in the sand to anchor myself .There were bubbles coming up from the sand and it was almost too hot to touch. There is an active underwater volcano at this site. I was finally getting used to the rhythm of these Brobdingnagian swings, when I hear a weird sound "thwak." I look and see a stream of bubbles and what looks to be a bird with a fish in its mouth. Astounded, I look up as the bird quickly and smoothly paddles to the surface. On the next surge I see an immense glistening black ball directly in front of me. I swim into a mass of shimmering curtains to find it's thousands of fish packed tightly together. Moving slowly through this rippling orb of fish I hear the familiar thwaking sound.This is what the birds were after. An underwater, all you can eat smorgasbord in the form of a bait ball. That's how this group of fish is referred to. I emerge from this black hole of fish to see the largest school of Barracuda I've ever seen. They too seem to have reserved a table at this Neptunian banquet. Not being invited, I gracefully retreated to hide in a cleft of volcanic rock. The Galapagos sharks arrived and circled unaffected by the massive onrush of movement. It was like an underwater rush hour.Upon exiting this submerged metropolis I realized I just had a glimpse of how truly complex the chain of life is. Filled with an experience of a lifetime I returned to the panga to digest this rich bestowal. As warned I veered a bit from the intended path of this tale. The "thwaking" birds were Blue footed Boobies.They have been known to dive to 60 feet in search for food I will leave this name(Blue footed booby) in peace. For the alliteration itself would create what Hart Crane refers to as "Scrolls of silvery snowy sentences." Submitted for your approval, Jody

Basset Hounds,Swimming Holes, Fireman and a cat named brandy

A valid request about who,when and how they fit in the story. O.K.
#1 Raymond Quincy Turner-1940's(Ruth Turners' father, my grandfather)
#2 Julius Shultz1950's(My father)Ruth Shultz(my mother)Brandy(the Siamese cat)
#3 The pond at Pound Ridge-1960's
#4 Gilbert Samson Jones-1960's(my unc) In Pound Ridge

#5 Ruth Turner and Rupert Sylvester-1960-Conneticut
#6 Sacco and Vanzetti-!920's( No relation)

Bartolomeo Vanzetti (left) and Nicola Sacco in handcuffs

These Photos are of Gilbert Samson Jones , Julius Shultz, Ruth Turner Shultz, Raymond Quincy Turner and Rupert Sylvester(RQ's dog). Their stories will unfold as I write this. Let's direct our discussion to the dog and his role in todays adventure. Rupert Sylvester was a very brave and loyal Basset Hound. Our story begins over 40 years ago when my parents decided to try to transplant our urban family to suburbia. I was only 2 at the time, so my suggestions were predominantly non-verbal. This cluster of Manhattanites were contemplating on buying a house in Pound Ridge, N.Y.(some refer to it as the boondocks).These perspective buyers were surveying the property with the realtor, while Gilbert(Unc) as I called him, was taking care of me. It had a fair sized pond. My parents were on the other side investigating the bounderies of the property. Now this part I obviously don't remember, but it would appear that I performed a Houdini like escape from uncs' care and decided to do a little investigating of my own.. Unc said he heard barking from Rupert and wondered what he was barking at. Seeing I was no longer fastened to my chair, he scrambled to find where I went. I was nowhere to be found. Suddenly he heard two big splashes. Not knowing how to swim he yells for my parents to come quick. This I would have liked to see, as they were very leasurely people when it came to brisk immediate movement. Now Unc was deciding what would be his best course of action. He didn't know how to swim and was deathly afraid of the water. He looks out at the pond and there's no one there. My parents arrive out of breath with a bewildered real estate salesman close behind. This is when they hear me laughing and Rupert barking about 50 yards away on the bank of the pond. The evidence seems to suggest that I fell or jumped in and Rupert jumped in after and grabbed me by my overalls and dog paddled me to shore. He then proceeded to sit on me and lick algae from my face.Despite my adamant protests and squirming he kept me pinned untill someone came for me. Everyone was greatly relieved and we did move there . All of us my parents , Unc , my grandfather who owned Rupert Sylvester (the life saving dog) and myself. This is the story of how we all got together. A few years later we were all settled and life was going smoothly, at least for me it was. I was now 4 years old and this adventure I remember. It was late one night in early November. The air was crisp and a chill was in the air. In fact it was the first night we turned the heat on. My mother was asleep in the basement, my Dad taking a nap in the study and everyone else asleep in their beds. Unc lived in the attic and the smell of smoke woke him. He went down stairs and the smell was even stronger. He calls out for everone and no one answers. He then goes looking for the source of the fire. It appears the furnace exploded and was burning at full blaze in the basement. He woke my dad to call the fire department while he wrapped him self in a wet blanket and ran into the smoking blaze of the basement. Holding his breath he found my mother unconscious and carried her to safety. Outside the house, where my dad was holding me.I remember watching the bright flickering orange light. Unc asks "where is RQ?" (Raymond Quincy, my grandfather) my dad points and says "He was right here a minute ago. Oh no! That idiot went back to bed, I thought he was joking." Unc ran back in and up the stairs to find my grandfather sleeping in a smoke filled room. Unc carries this 6 foot 200lbs. man out to safety. Now the firetrucks are coming and I am clapping at all the flashing lights, loud sirens and adventure. To my dismay I am sent with the neighbors to eat Sugarsnaps cereal (the one one with bear on the front of the box) and wait out the fire. Well morning comes and I see the sunrise, my family picks me up and we leave immediately for a road trip to see my grandparents, who live in someplace called Nyack, N.Y. If you know where this is, you'll understand when I say they lved on the Tapanzee bridge. I always thought as a child "Does that have anything to do with monkeys?" I put a link above for anyone who has never seen or wants to see the Tappan Zee Bridge.We arrive early in the morning and there are lots of hugs and gasps as we all tell the story of the fire to my grandparents, aunt and cousins. This goes on and on. My cousins invite me to go for a walk with them. I was very excited they were 4 and 6 years older than me. This was the first time they ever asked me to do something wth them. They wanted to show me something cool. So I followed them and we walked down to the bridge. It was very cold and I was shivering, because my winter jacket was in the fire. All I had was a couple of sweaters over each other.We arrive at the bridge. My cousins tell me to put my tongue on the railing of the bridge, because that will make me feel warmer. I did and it got stuck they laugh and said "See ya sucker." If you've ever put your tongue on frozen metal, you'll know what I mean when I say "I was stuck and stuck good!" I was now getting numb with my tongue stuck to the railing of the Tappan Zee Bridge. My first thoughts were " Help!! Someone please help me!" I waited and shook for what felt like forever. I hear Unc yelling my name " Jooody, where are youuu?" Try as I might all that came out was" Ahg o eh hia" Unc sees me and tells me to wait, he'll be right back. Where did he think I was going? Where was he going? After what felt like an eternity he returns with a cup of warm water and gently pours it on the railing. My tongue and me gets free, and I jump into Uncs' arms crying and shivering uncontrollably. He unbuttons and opens his coat, which smells like moth balls. He then picks up like as he says " a sack of potatoes" and puts me inside to keep me warm. I know I'm fine now. He doesn't even ask me to walk, in fact he walks me right upstairs and into a warm bath. He tells me to cover my ears to keep them warm. He says" Just keep your ears covered for at least 10 minutes." I say "O.k. unc sure, thanks for saving me." He grunts something and closes the bath room door. I figure out why I have to keep my ears covered. It's because there's going to be yelling and doors slamming. I really don't like this, so I run down stairs and grab my mother and tell her to please don't start the yelling because of me. Everyone is looking at me because I'm as unc says "Look at you boy, you're as naked as a Jaybird" I realize I am, so I shake my butt at everyone and run upstairs . I hear laughter now . I know things are gong to be alright. By the time I finished my bath and got dressed, my aunt and cousins had left, which was fine with me. There was food on the table and I was really hungry. What I was really excited about was it was Saturday morning and that meant cartoons. I had a busy day ahead of me. Several months later we move back home. Everything smells new even the wood. Life continued to flow as it has been known to do on occasion. The next thing that comes to mind is a guy on T.V. named Kennedy. The thing that fascinated me was that stripe of baldness on his head. What was that? I had never seen anything like it before. I asked everyone in the house and no one new what I meant. So I brought Unc and my mother down to the T.V. room to show them. They say "Oh, that's what you meant. It's called a part" I ask "A part of what" They reply " It's a part in their hair." I say "What do you mean part? There's just a bald very straight line." This continued to baffle me for years. I wanted one. Everyone including the barber said" You have to many cowlicks for a part to work." I ask "How do I get rid of these cowlicks?" No matter what they say I would not be dissuaded from the fine bald line. I thought it was cool and wanted one. I regret to report it never worked out. Me and the "part" were never to be. I looked up Sacco and Vanzetti, it seems they were not kidnappers. They were criminals and were executed. There is a lot more to tell, but not by me. If you're interested checkout the link.http://encyclopedia.thefreedictionary.com/Saco+and+Vanzetti. Well that's it for tonight. Oh! I forgot the cat was named Brandy because she liked to sleep in a large brandy snifter we had. It was a mystery how she never broke it or even knocked it over. Thanks, Jody

Math, sweat and tears.

Photos !-5
Julius Shultz,
Ammba Shultz
Manhattan
2007

Notice the progression in the photos.


























It has been my experience that the teacher makes the subject for the student. I think everyone can remember a time when a teacher really brought to life a subject thought to be boring.I am of the opinion it's at that moment they return the favor done for them. Today I was fighting an uphill battle with Ammba to study math. It was not going well, and I decided to try something new. After a break and lunch I started to talk about the book series she was reading, "Maximum Ride". It's an adventure story about mutant bird kids running from the scientists that created them. There's a part where the youngest member of the flock gets kidnapped. They struggle desperately to come up with a plan to secure her safe return.
She asked me "What are they going to do to get her back?". I replied " Normally there's a ransom demand." Ammba asks " What's a ransom demand?" This is where I steered the topic back to math.. I said "O.K., let's say you're kidnapped and I get a ransom note" Ammba replies " Who's going to kidnap me?" I answered " Let's pretend" "O.k." she replies.. I took this opportunity to combine lessons. We each wrote a ransom note asking for various amounts of money and where to deliver it. This made it more interesting for both of us. We checked grammer, spelling, the geography of the drop site and our get away plan. How we were going to split the ransom became a hot topic of discussion. It seemed my offer of 65% for me and 15% for her didn't appeal to her sense of fairness. I mentioned that we were criminals and an intense debate about fairness was inherently hypocritical. This sentence covered the vocabulary for the day.. We finally agreed on 75% for me and 20% for her. After splitting up the monopoly money she became agitated and suspicious, saying " Hey ! This can't be right,.you have more than twice the money I do". I said "Hey, this is your first kidnapping and 20% is more than fair. Trust me. Why would I cheat you ?" She grins knowingly and replies emphatically "Maybe because you're a criminal!" I answer " It hurts me to hear you say that after all we've been through." She retorts "boo hoo! buy some Kleenex with your cut. I still think you're cheating me." I offendedly reply "O.k., go ahead and count it, if you don't trust me. In fact, why don't you figure out what's fair.?" Less securely she says " I think I will. Put all the money in the middle and I mean all of it. I'm watching you." I ask " Do you even know how much there is?" Squinting she thinks and says "Yea, I do. 83% of $99,000 " I smile and say " 100% correct. So how many dollars do I get?" She bites her lip and starts writing and writing, then scratching out and finally she looks up at me and growls ."Papi, you tricked me. We're doing percents again, you know I don't know how to do that." I say " Then why did you agree to 20%? Which by the way, is a complete rip off.." Ammba replies " What's a rip off?" All of this just developed, it wasn't planned. I saw a way back to math with the splitting of the ransom. We both had a good time and learned new things about each other. She asked for 1/2 of the money and I said "No, but you can have 55% if you can tell me how much that is." Fractions to decimals and finally to percents. She discovered that even the split didn't add up to 100%. On the drive home she asked "Who are some famous kidnappers.?" I reply " Oh, famous ones, well let me think. Saco and Vanzetti are very famous." She smiles and says " Yea we are Saco and Vanzetti, world famous.kidnappers. What happened to them? Straight faced I say" Ask your grand father he'll know for sure." She says "I will when I get to Mommy's house." . I drop her off and she says " I don't mind studying if its fun like today." I smile and say "I agree baby, I agree." I can't wait to hear from my father, he's going to flip.Wait a minute, what did happen to them? I'll let you know tomorrow what I find out. Jody

Fieldday,waterballoons and ambulances!

2008 Field day-Cozumel,Mexico

Find Ammba in The Last Photo

Remember field day at school? That's what today was for Ammba and family. I dread this day for fear that I will succumb to the parental peer pressure to participate. I have competed in many venues, but none are as deadly as the annual gladiator soccer match.Kamikaze parents who want to impress their children with a suicidal display of their long forgotten athletic prowess. As soon as I arrived a friend of mine asked "Have you come to view the carnage, or be part of it?" I gave my carefully prepared excuse, that as much as I would love another surgery, I feel a moral and ethical obligation to record this event for future generations to learn from. A doctor friend joined us to give his assesment of the situation. His response was"It's not even noon and I 've seen an acl tear, 2 sprained akles and a severly torn hamstring." It looked like a scene from the movie "The Longest Yard" He then commented that " You know I'm not getting paid for this. Jody, why aren't you out there? At least you're in good shape." I held up my camera and said "Oh! The sacrifices a dutiful parent makes to record his childs happiness is reward enough for me!" My doctor friend sneers and replies" Bullshit , you just don't want to get hurt" I say in response " That too Dr.P. That too. I'm a pussy and proud of it" We both laugh and go our seperate ways. I bring attention to the photo of the handcart being used as an assault weapon against her own child. This little spill cost the yellow team the race. What It doesn't show is the unmerciful brow beating the child took before she was carried off to the ambulance. Ah! the joy of team sports involving healthy interaction between parent and child. Following this was a demolition derby involving shopping carts, an obstacle course and a relay race. The element of danger came in when the occupant either jumped into the cart or was forcefully yanked from it. After this death race, Tammy taught a brief yoga class for parent and child. This temporarily calmed the blood thirsty crowd. Next was a demonstration of martial arts for tots. Board breakng and primal screams rekindled the spirit of this angry mob. By 1pm most of the spunk had been drained from the masses. An uneventful parent teacher basketball game wound the afternoon down to the big finale. What came next was a joyous bruhaha. The hurling of projectile liquid grenades at one another untill fully soaked. If this didn't accomplish that a crowd control fire hose is blasted at the young gamesters. Their faces do look a group of war weary soldiers being told the war is over. Hurray!! We lived!! Although this was intended to be a satirical look at the innate competition of parents about and through their offspring, I don't discourage genuine play. I feel there is enough struggling to meet society's standards and field day should be about play, not winning and losing. I'll try not to sprain my ankle jumping down from this soap box. Submitted and hopefully not deleted. Jody

Lighter than air , compression and density.

#1 Julius Shultz Wellfleet(Cape Cod, Mass.)2004 #2 Me(Jody Shultz,Julius Shultz)-Cape Cod,Mass. #3 Tammy K. Cervantes(LOML) Ammba Shultz-Central Park,Manhattan-2004

Are zombies really just tired Mimes?

#1 Steven Dahut(Manhattan apt.)2000
#2Ammba Shultz,Pesky Mime(Metropolitan Museum)2004
#3 Ammba Shultz-Union Square Park,Manhattan2004


Today is April 3rd.The photos will tell some sort of story, I'm just not sure what it is. Once again I'm wrestling to get the photos up and in the order I want. The rules of moving photos around still eludes me. So I will describe the photo before I tell how it fits into the story. You know most of the characters already from previous postings. If not, scroll down and catch up.Let's start with the new guy, who may or may not be a zombie grabbing Ammba. Actually it's Ammba who is attacking him. His name is Steve and his favorite movies are zombie movies. Ammba and I are fans too, but not nearly the aficionados he is. A little background first: I met Steve in 1998, when I was still something, some like to call "mocus." Basically, I was wandering around trying to pick up and fit the pieces of my life together. The only area of my life I felt was going well was my relationship with Ammba.There are few kindred spirits in this world, who truly have the soul of a child. Steve is one, as am I. Someone very wise once explained to me the real goal of life was to learn how to function and act like an adult, while keeping the wonderment of a child. Horse play is very healthy for all concerned; it's natural and a lot of fun.This is just a quick glimpse of what life is like when Steve is around. He is another crucial person in my life, who took the time and had the patience to guide me to the road I now walk. Certain people have the gift of judging character, without passing judgement on the person themselves. Ammba is one of these people. When she was only 2 years old she would say things like,"l like Steve papi, he looks out for you doesn't he? He is also very silly. When is he coming over again?" Steves' presence in my life did everything Ammba said it would and a lot more.He worked over 20 years as a New York City policeman. He is now retired, but I never would have thought he was a cop when I met him. He has been decorated several times and has the heart of a lion. He lived right next to the twin towers and during 9/11 we didn't know if he made it out or not. Ammba was very scared and asked "What about Steve?" "Where will he live?", "Can he live with us?". All I could say was " Absolutely baby, that would be great." Already making plans, Ammba says "He can stay in my bed and I'll sleep with you. It'll be like camping out, but inside." Well no sooner did we have this little talk than the doorbell rang and Ammba ran saying "I bet its Steve, I know its Steve, you watch papi" She opens the door and sure enough it's Steve and a few guests, one being a displaced cat. Ammba says to me "I know you were worried Papi. I prayed for him to come as soon as possible, that's what you said I could do. See everything's going to be just fine papi.I knew it would be." We continued to grow closer. He went with me back to Cozumel, to see if it was the right decision for me to move there again. We dove(scuba), hung out at Carnival, and talked a lot. He said "I think you're ready, if you do.Do you?" I said "I don't know" Steve smiled and said " Now I know you're ready". I didn't understand what he meant then, but I have a better idea today. There's a little story that always made me laugh when I pictured it.When Steve retired from the force he wasn't set on what he was going to do with himself. He did a little door work. When I say door work, I mean bouncing at clubs and other fancy places. I asked him how it was going for him. He replied "Interesting, not quite as smooth a transition as I thought it would be." I asked "What do you mean?" "Well I've had a few mishaps ,you might say." Steve replied. Still perplexed, I continued to pry, asking, "What exactly do you mean by mishaps?" He proceeded to tell me, "Well, my co-workers told me I needed to be stricter and more forceful when checking for ID. So the next guy in line walks right by me and I yell. "Hey!, buddy I need to see some ID." He keeps walking, so I yelled even louder this time "Hey! you in the orange jacket, I said I need to see some ID." Well, he kept walking. I ran after him at the encouragement of my collegues. I grab, spin him around and say, "What are you deaf? Didn't you hear me?" It turned out he was. Continuing to tell the story he says,"Next there was this homeless guy who insisted on bothering everyone in line. I ask him to please stop. He comes back a few minutes later and starts yelling obscenities at the customers. My boss says 'get rid of him.' I walk him across the street with his potted plant and sit him down. He's very drunk. 2 min. later he's back . I walk him back over again and say 'now stay here or you're going to have real problems.' As I left he grabs me and says 'Hey, it's a free country, I can do whatever I want.' Here I always picture Steve saying "No, thats New Jersey, here in New York you follow the law." Steve continued, "I give him a little push away from me and he stumbles into a brick wall head first. Well now we need an ambulance. He was o.k., just a little cut.".Completely deadpanned and serious he says "So it seems my new career choice is to humiliate the handicapped and beat up on the homeless. Hmm! I just wished I'd known sooner". I hope I did this story justice. When Steve told it I laughed till I cried. I still do. The only thing funnier is the story of "Serenity Movers" , but that's for another day. After I get permission to tell it. As for the mime picture, I say let's shoot him with a silencer.
Submitted for your approval. Jody

Smokin' Bone Hole!!

Left side
#1Pete Cervantes(Tammys' dad)Susan Roberts(Pete's girl friend)Right side-Tammy K. Cervantes (Pete's Lovely daughter,Me
#2 At risk of revealing his true where abouts(Ricky Ricardo-2004 (He was hiding from Lucy) at least Babaloo rides on.















The photos you see are subject to random change, depending upon the stage the story is being written. I am also receiving much needed editing tips from my readers. So if you spot something amiss, please let me know in a comment. As I suspected our friend Ricky was somewhat less than "enthused" with his photos yesterday, I hope he likes the new ones I put up. Here are several photos that bring me to the exact moment they were taken. The one with the Brooklyn bridge in the backround was taken by a stranger in 2004, the photo with 3 generations of Shultz' on the beach was taken 3 weeks ago by Tammy. The photo of the hansom cab was also taken by a stranger in 2004. The other couple with Tammy and myself are Pete {Tammy's dad}and his lovely couple Susan. The photo of the handsome young gentleman in the blue shirt is the focus of todays story, we'll get to that a bit later.These were taken 4 years apart. I'm realizing just how rare a good group photo is. It's hard enough to get a good shot of 1 person let alone 3, and at the same time no less. It's also very interesting to study people you know over the years in various photos. Postures and expressions become almost like finger prints. The next time you browse through your photos take a minute and study the differences of people when they're photographed alone as opposed to in a group. Myself for example, tend to photograph more relaxed in a group photo. it makes me feel less self-conscious. I think candid photos are a much better study in human postures and expressions. 90% of all my photos are taken candidly. They're of complete strangers who I more than likely will never see again. To me it's like hunting. There's the stalk, set up, aim and the shot itself. Each phase has its own rhythm, and together they culminate into what I like to call a "time-trophy". So today is a comparison of posed vs. candid. group vs portrait.The other thing I'd like to share is familiarity with equipment. It fascinates me how in the hands of someone experienced, inanimate objects can literally jump to life. It''s as if the user has infused his spirit into it for that brief moment. A common denominator of all skilled activities is that when it's at its best there is little or no conscious thought. It brings to mind a scene from the movie "Bull Durham" Tim Robbins is explaining to Kevin Costner that Susan Sarandon told him, in order for him to pitch better, he needed to get in contact with the reptillian part of his brain, and to think from his eyelids. Kevin Costner repies "And the women's underwear?" I suppose we all might strive for that ellusive connection between mind and body. You'll know it when it happens. It's truly a glimpse of grace. Now we return to the hero of our story, Pete. As you might notice from the photos.It had been a long day of touring Manhattan everyone had sore feet and were tired and hungry. We had made it down to little Italy and were in search of a place to eat. We decided on a little place called Pelligrino's. The menu was Italian ofcourse, the service stylish and impeccable. In fact our waiter could have come right out of a scene from "Moonstruck" Somehow we were discussung another Italian restaurant we frequented called "Osso Bucco" Pete noticed that that happened to be the special of the day.I went on and on ad nauseum about just how delicious this dish was. In typical European style dining the food came a bit late for the ravenous diners we were. The dish was steaming hot, literally, steam was rising off of the "Osso Bucco" Pete lets loose with a comment that will go down in history. He says "This is it? You can't be serious. This is what they call, an Italian dish consisting of braised veal shanks in white wine. It looks more like a smoking bone hole to me." I did a double take and said " Did you just say smoking bone hole?" Pete replies " Yea, that's exactly what I said A BIG OLD SMOKING BONE HOLE" He repeats it slowly, so we can all understand it. "That what it is, translated from Italian." Not only didn't I believe him, I was in a state of apoplectic laughter. I couldn't eat, if someone said smoking bone hole, I would giggle for another 10 min. After sucking out the last bit of marow from "you know what" we meandered our way home with our bellies full and our sides aching..Later , come to find out that Pete was absolutely correct. Osso Bucco is literally translated, Bone hole, the smoking depends on how it's served. Me? I prefer to have it with a side order of Pete. That's all for today. Submitted for your approval. Jody