Here's some news from the newsroom floor I came across while sweeping up shortly before Closing Time. It's no longer immediate or current or even urgent (actually it was never urgent) but it says a lot about who we are as a nation and how far we've come.
Whether we've lost our direction, I leave for your personal speculation and hope you'll reciprocate but if I still had a soul, these are the times that would try it. As it is, all I have is Pain(e).
I share my life with a lover who grew up in another country and culture shaped far more by the triumph of arms by mine than I believe either of us fully appreciate. I've always wondered and worried if there are as many things we do that she doesn't fully appreciate as there were for me when we lived in her country.
Sometimes, I'm very glad if she does have questions that she doesn't ask them because my paucity of answers is reaching epic dimensions.
And it doesn't look like the players preening and pouting on our national stage, in both wings of the theater so to speak, are doing much to still the disquiet.
I fear all of this cognitive and political dissonance is part of a larger disease/infection or perhaps more ominously, a Plague, in which we, as adult Americans, no longer speak TO one another but, rather, AT one another.
We have opted to trade slogans rather than discuss solutions and demonize anyone who disagrees with us. Our political processes seem to always include search for the guilty and scapegoating though neither one has ever contributed to helping a single human being.
Somewhere, somehow, the Land of Round Doorknobs and unbegrenzten Möglichkeiten stopped being about having ideals and choosing the best ideas for the most people (the nearly legendary, 'greater good') and became choosing a prom king and queen while we shopped for personalities. Now we are reduced to a dialogue that more often resembles a diatribe of "love me, love my dog" or "and the horse you rode in on" and we are surprised. It's so sad about us.
We have the brightest generation of uniformed men and women (and all shades of the rainbow in-between) in the course of our country's existence who are better educated, clothed, and nourished, all outfitted with the most impressive and variegated arsenal in the history of war-making defending our One Nation under God, void where taxed or prohibited by law, that has ceased to exist for many of those who swore to defend it from all enemies, foreign and domestic.
Instead of fixing things and helping people we apportion blame and try to get none of it on us. The same hand that can help instead points at 'those others' on whom we blame our misfortunes. It's a miracle we haven't outlawed the sale of mirrors by now since many days, I get nauseous at the sight of the abomination I have become while staring into it. Breaking it is an option, if I can handle the seven years of bad luck which makes me wonder how many have we destroyed and how many more are left?
-bill kenny
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Friday, March 7, 2014
Thursday, March 6, 2014
The Widow's Mite and What Might Befall Us All
This isn't news, I know, and I apologize to Omar and the Howlers for appropriating their sentiment as well as their song title, when looking around at what I can only believe is Hard Times in the Land of Plenty.
We read about it every day and a not inconsequential part of our politics at the national and state level is arguing about into how many pieces we can slice an ever-dwindling pie. The discussion, such as it is, often overlooks that not only don't all of us have pie, so much as we possess neither plates nor forks.
This very hard winter has made The Invisible Poor far less and so far more often right here in our region and our city. There are more and more people shivering in the cold, clutching cardboard signs at exits and entrances to shopping malls and stores seeking work, shelter or food, sometimes all. I lack the resources to help them and I can't watch them nor can I look away. There but for the grace....
Yesterday one of our local newspapers had a story on the impact the hungry and homeless are feared to be having on efforts to use our riverine resources to attract outdoor recreationalists. Read it for yourself.
I hope you'll agree it's a well-written article by a very hard-working young reporter that is very even-toned in its assessment and report. There are no good guys and bad guys, heroes and villains, here-it's a sad situation and we each need all the help we can get to work out of it.
That's why I was saddened and sickened by a reader's reaction, "just put them all in jail!" President Lyndon Baines Johnson, LBJ, as part of his Great Society declared a War on Poverty that, despite so many well-meaning people working together, seems a half century later to more closely resemble the 100 Years' War. That's just an aside to my attempt at a point on the reader's reaction that so disheartens me.
The poster, as is his write/right, adds, "they hang in front of modanna (sic) place drinking and drugging all day and no one does anything to stop them!" If I may: if you're going to hate on people for what has happened to them and for events over which they may not have control (suggested in the article itself) it might be nice to learn to spell the location of the place you think is the nexus.
In my lifetime, we have gone from a War on Poverty to attacking the poor. If you're more than a paycheck away from being in a cardboard lean-to, covered with a plastic bag to keep the cold out, then you have my congratulations because a LOT of us aren't.
And how the hell does a broken box and a plastic garbage bag keep single digit temperatures from chilling and killing anyone forced by circumstance and otherwise to live like that?
The effort to enhance revenue streams and increase the tax flow for the city is just the ticket we need and I'm fortunate to know the very generous man (with both his time and treasure) who's attempting to raise awareness on an issue he sees as a challenge requiring all of our efforts.
And he's right and if more of us can agree we need to treat one another with the same dignity and compassion we would wish for ourselves, we would all be a lot better off. In terms of the Widow's Mite, I confess I've never been good at quoting the Bible, Old or New Testament, so you'll have to look it up for yourself but I can't help but notice how rarely even those, maybe especially those, who can and do quote are willing to live its words everyday in their own lives.
The poverty reflected in our wallets need not find its echo in our hearts and souls. No one wins unless everyone wins. Hand-wringing is not help-bringing. Amen.
-bill kenny
We read about it every day and a not inconsequential part of our politics at the national and state level is arguing about into how many pieces we can slice an ever-dwindling pie. The discussion, such as it is, often overlooks that not only don't all of us have pie, so much as we possess neither plates nor forks.
This very hard winter has made The Invisible Poor far less and so far more often right here in our region and our city. There are more and more people shivering in the cold, clutching cardboard signs at exits and entrances to shopping malls and stores seeking work, shelter or food, sometimes all. I lack the resources to help them and I can't watch them nor can I look away. There but for the grace....
Yesterday one of our local newspapers had a story on the impact the hungry and homeless are feared to be having on efforts to use our riverine resources to attract outdoor recreationalists. Read it for yourself.
I hope you'll agree it's a well-written article by a very hard-working young reporter that is very even-toned in its assessment and report. There are no good guys and bad guys, heroes and villains, here-it's a sad situation and we each need all the help we can get to work out of it.
That's why I was saddened and sickened by a reader's reaction, "just put them all in jail!" President Lyndon Baines Johnson, LBJ, as part of his Great Society declared a War on Poverty that, despite so many well-meaning people working together, seems a half century later to more closely resemble the 100 Years' War. That's just an aside to my attempt at a point on the reader's reaction that so disheartens me.
The poster, as is his write/right, adds, "they hang in front of modanna (sic) place drinking and drugging all day and no one does anything to stop them!" If I may: if you're going to hate on people for what has happened to them and for events over which they may not have control (suggested in the article itself) it might be nice to learn to spell the location of the place you think is the nexus.
In my lifetime, we have gone from a War on Poverty to attacking the poor. If you're more than a paycheck away from being in a cardboard lean-to, covered with a plastic bag to keep the cold out, then you have my congratulations because a LOT of us aren't.
And how the hell does a broken box and a plastic garbage bag keep single digit temperatures from chilling and killing anyone forced by circumstance and otherwise to live like that?
The effort to enhance revenue streams and increase the tax flow for the city is just the ticket we need and I'm fortunate to know the very generous man (with both his time and treasure) who's attempting to raise awareness on an issue he sees as a challenge requiring all of our efforts.
And he's right and if more of us can agree we need to treat one another with the same dignity and compassion we would wish for ourselves, we would all be a lot better off. In terms of the Widow's Mite, I confess I've never been good at quoting the Bible, Old or New Testament, so you'll have to look it up for yourself but I can't help but notice how rarely even those, maybe especially those, who can and do quote are willing to live its words everyday in their own lives.
The poverty reflected in our wallets need not find its echo in our hearts and souls. No one wins unless everyone wins. Hand-wringing is not help-bringing. Amen.
-bill kenny
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
When Irish Eyes Are Smiling
When you have my last name, every day is St. Patrick's Day but I must confess my surprise when I learned that, weather permitting, Norwich's St. Patrick's Day Parade is this Sunday afternoon, stepping off at one from Ferry Street, practically across from the Otis Library on Main Street.
I think much of my surprise was the realization that this will be the Inaugural Parade. We have a terrific assortment of community celebrations for the various cultures and their contributions to our city throughout the year with festivities and feasting so forgive my bias as someone whose middle name is Patrick when I wonder, "Cad Thog chomh fada?" (what took so long).
Actually, I'm trying to start a rumor that we've been using the other festivals as practice for Sunday's Parade, but I do not think that'll catch on, though I am hoping, based on the success of this Sunday's parade, that we can have one once a week or at least annually.
Here's the website that has all the details, from the downtown route march through how to buy a commemorative tee-shirts, to include the best places to park (let's not have that tired, old 'jeepers! there's never any parking in Norwich!' argument again, okay? Besides, I'm all out of jeepers, or should I say O'jeepers in honor of the parade?).
If you feel like marching you will not be alone as friends from as far away as New London and New Haven will be joined by some/all or part of the Norwich City Council and the Mayor, as well as members of the Police Department, Yantic Fire Department, the Fields School Marching Band and a whole lot more local and regional agencies and businesses.
It makes perfect sense to have so many people in motion as I can tell you that the Irish have a history of moving (how do you suppose there came to be so many of Hibernian heritage here in the USA in the first place?). The route looks to be about a half a mile through downtown, long enough to work up a broad grin but short enough to not break a sweat. And if you'd prefer you can pick a spot along the route to sit and enjoy the music, marching and merriment.
Eventually like the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade Perhaps we'll have helium filled balloons of Colcannon and Soda Bread though I fear the harbor ducks might be a bit rough on the latter but after the inaugural parade, there's a street festival with eat and drink and fun for the young and young at heart.
There promises to be corned beef and cabbage and a variety of both traditional and otherwise adult beverages to quaff a marcher's thirst as well as face painting and other activities. I used to hear as a child, "(i) f there were only three Irishmen in the world, you'd find two of them in a corner talking about the other one." Sunday, let's give 'em something to talk about.
-bill kenny
-bill kenny
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Remember the Fuchsia
I went down the hall yesterday to retrieve a document I had hoped (usually forlornly so this was a pleasant surprise) to print and was greeted with what, for the printer, was the equivalent of a Shakespearean soliloquy in the message box on the front.
"Magenta cartridge is in need of immediate attention; check #2 paper tray as well." I very much liked that "as well" touch of humanity; almost as if there were a tiny person in the machine sending an SOS to the world.
The more I thought about it the less the message surprised me. I would have NO idea how many words the machine prints every day from a bout a dozen users some, believe it or not, even more prolix than I. It stands to reason a few of the words would be retained in the buffer someplace and reserved for the printer's use to deploy as needed. For instance when the magenta cartridge is in need of attention.
That's why I had to use that title today, circumstances insisted upon it. Besides, who doesn't like Nektar? Can you have a written rhetorical question? And is that a second one right there? And speaking of something else entirely, exactly which color is magenta and where does it show up on the color wheel? More imponderables.
Fell across a great article if you are related to me by blood, especially if you're a son or a brother of mine. We don't live in the Ozarks so you can only be one or the other not and the other. I was diagnosed a diabetic about a decade ago, perhaps even a little longer. And I just heard at least two people thinking "that explains a lot" which is not only hurtful but also less than correct. Politically and otherwise.
I'm very fortunate in that I'm not on insulin but have reasonably decent control on the disease through diet, exercise and medication. For some of the Kenny men, beyond the three original founding partners of the firm, Grandpa is semi-mythical as he had shuffled off this mortal coil before many of us were born but I don't recall in my life, or his (now that I think about it) his ever being diagnosed as a diabetic but a lot of the tell-tale signs of the illness were evident with him, but he wasn't a fan of doctors so a diagnosis would have been very unlikely. If you're keeping track at home, calling people a Polish thief is not one of the symptoms of diabetes.
As the first male child, chronologically, to cross all the bridges (so far (and no, that isn't a Chris Christie joke, though thanks for the thought), I tend to fret for my siblings first (it's in the job description for oldest child, you can look it up) and then for my own children. This type of hard-won knowledge will at some point down the line result in a 'breakthrough' that was a decade or more in coming and will be of some use and more value to the sons of the brothers though not so much the brothers themselves.
And that's all good as "You are me and that's the way it's always been, you are me."
-bill kenny
The more I thought about it the less the message surprised me. I would have NO idea how many words the machine prints every day from a bout a dozen users some, believe it or not, even more prolix than I. It stands to reason a few of the words would be retained in the buffer someplace and reserved for the printer's use to deploy as needed. For instance when the magenta cartridge is in need of attention.
That's why I had to use that title today, circumstances insisted upon it. Besides, who doesn't like Nektar? Can you have a written rhetorical question? And is that a second one right there? And speaking of something else entirely, exactly which color is magenta and where does it show up on the color wheel? More imponderables.
Fell across a great article if you are related to me by blood, especially if you're a son or a brother of mine. We don't live in the Ozarks so you can only be one or the other not and the other. I was diagnosed a diabetic about a decade ago, perhaps even a little longer. And I just heard at least two people thinking "that explains a lot" which is not only hurtful but also less than correct. Politically and otherwise.
I'm very fortunate in that I'm not on insulin but have reasonably decent control on the disease through diet, exercise and medication. For some of the Kenny men, beyond the three original founding partners of the firm, Grandpa is semi-mythical as he had shuffled off this mortal coil before many of us were born but I don't recall in my life, or his (now that I think about it) his ever being diagnosed as a diabetic but a lot of the tell-tale signs of the illness were evident with him, but he wasn't a fan of doctors so a diagnosis would have been very unlikely. If you're keeping track at home, calling people a Polish thief is not one of the symptoms of diabetes.
As the first male child, chronologically, to cross all the bridges (so far (and no, that isn't a Chris Christie joke, though thanks for the thought), I tend to fret for my siblings first (it's in the job description for oldest child, you can look it up) and then for my own children. This type of hard-won knowledge will at some point down the line result in a 'breakthrough' that was a decade or more in coming and will be of some use and more value to the sons of the brothers though not so much the brothers themselves.
And that's all good as "You are me and that's the way it's always been, you are me."
-bill kenny
Monday, March 3, 2014
Not the Encounter Spielberg Thought
I worry sometimes if The Founding Fathers and Mothers could see the muddle we've made of their democracy they might take George Bernard Shaw at his word and tear up the Declaration of Independence.
I'm old enough to have almost met Carl Schurz in person, we went to different high schools together judging by our varsity jackets, but I still admire his thoughtful position on wrapping oneself in the flag or as is more commonly the case in our current political climate when confronted by positions on issues not to one's liking, sticking Old Glory in one's ears with one's fingers and la-la-la-ing at the top of one's lungs. And as Harry wrote and Three Dog sang....
So America in 2014 is still arguing over the Second Amendment, the entire amendment not just the parts that suit one side or the other of the never ending debate conducted while innocent citizens become casualties and now, as I understand this news story, the separation of church and state are, along with batteries, sold separately (but equally).
I suppose this use of tax money is better than another Bridge to Nowhere but only just barely and I'm not all that sure of my math. As someone who has checked out the Pastafarians in recent months, I would concede I live in a Lucite if not actually glass house and the only Stones in whose presence I should be are Rolling, but I worry, again, about why we fear science and when this happened.
If you want to believe Moses rode down Mount Sinai on a dinosaur with the Ten Commandments, or Suggestions (based on how many of them we pay any attention to), that is entirely your business. UNTIL and UNLESS you take my tax money to build a museum, a puppet theater, a cigar box, an oil painting or a PowerPoint presentation offering your perspective as The Truth (definite article deliberate).
We shout one another down in the halls of Congress and shoot one another down in the streets of every city in our nation. The notion of free elections has become obsolete as every campaign for every office becomes a consultant exercise where an open debate and exchange of ideas on various topics is reduced to creating wedge issues and pinpointing a handful of critical voters and the devil take the hindmost.
Makes me wonder what animals Ken Ham's Noah failed to get aboard the Ark and how many of them knew how to swim.
-bill kenny
I'm old enough to have almost met Carl Schurz in person, we went to different high schools together judging by our varsity jackets, but I still admire his thoughtful position on wrapping oneself in the flag or as is more commonly the case in our current political climate when confronted by positions on issues not to one's liking, sticking Old Glory in one's ears with one's fingers and la-la-la-ing at the top of one's lungs. And as Harry wrote and Three Dog sang....
So America in 2014 is still arguing over the Second Amendment, the entire amendment not just the parts that suit one side or the other of the never ending debate conducted while innocent citizens become casualties and now, as I understand this news story, the separation of church and state are, along with batteries, sold separately (but equally).
I suppose this use of tax money is better than another Bridge to Nowhere but only just barely and I'm not all that sure of my math. As someone who has checked out the Pastafarians in recent months, I would concede I live in a Lucite if not actually glass house and the only Stones in whose presence I should be are Rolling, but I worry, again, about why we fear science and when this happened.
If you want to believe Moses rode down Mount Sinai on a dinosaur with the Ten Commandments, or Suggestions (based on how many of them we pay any attention to), that is entirely your business. UNTIL and UNLESS you take my tax money to build a museum, a puppet theater, a cigar box, an oil painting or a PowerPoint presentation offering your perspective as The Truth (definite article deliberate).
We shout one another down in the halls of Congress and shoot one another down in the streets of every city in our nation. The notion of free elections has become obsolete as every campaign for every office becomes a consultant exercise where an open debate and exchange of ideas on various topics is reduced to creating wedge issues and pinpointing a handful of critical voters and the devil take the hindmost.
Makes me wonder what animals Ken Ham's Noah failed to get aboard the Ark and how many of them knew how to swim.
-bill kenny
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Country Mouse in the Land of Concrete and Glass Mountains
Thelma and Louise and I spent yesterday afternoon in Providence, technically in a separate entity from Providence, at Providence Place. It wasn't exactly where I thought we would go in search of something I know one of us wanted to replace but I found myself in agreement as we left and headed North.
On its best day, for reasons that have a lot to do with me and nothing to do with it, Providence will never be on my list of favorite places. From the time I went to look at Brown when I was a senior at Carteret Academy for Boys (yes, I was, and am, one of those people), I've never warmed to the city. I always feel like I'm in Newark when I wanted New York. Poor Providence always feels like a consolation prize for Boston.
The Mall has precious little to do with the city, truth be told and has its own exit off of I-95. That we headed up there via 95 has a lot to do with genuine lack of enthusiasm by the time we got there as I suspect everyone on the East Coast from (possibly) Maryland to Maine decided to go there yesterday.
I have no idea what either Connecticut or Rhode Island did with the gasoline excise tax money supposedly dedicated to highway infrastructure, by the same token the Feds as well as I-95 in a Federal Road, but they must have spent it on candy as none of it went to repairs of the roadways. Check their teeth and call their dentists.
I need little provocation to became an idjit behind the wheel and by the time we arrived at Providence Place I was in full idjit mode. There are more stores than you can imagine and at least twice as many as you'd ever need in one lifetime all under one roof and we had, all three of us, a very pleasant afternoon despite my white s=knuckles and gargoyle like grimace for sometime after we'd arrived.
Eventually the blood returned to my hands and my tensed facial features relaxed though I will concede we're talking relative degrees of 'ugly enough to make a train run on a dirt road' (courtesy of Dave "Lips" Malone). And we stopped for dinner on our way out and caught the dying rays of the setting sun as we headed home, fearing that by this time tonight we may be staring into the teeth of Winter Storm Titan (why not Terence, or Terry? Sounds friendly and folksy not fearsome). Talk about Bright Lights and Big City. We had ourselves a time and no redwoods were harmed in the making of our adventure.
-bill kenny
On its best day, for reasons that have a lot to do with me and nothing to do with it, Providence will never be on my list of favorite places. From the time I went to look at Brown when I was a senior at Carteret Academy for Boys (yes, I was, and am, one of those people), I've never warmed to the city. I always feel like I'm in Newark when I wanted New York. Poor Providence always feels like a consolation prize for Boston.
The Mall has precious little to do with the city, truth be told and has its own exit off of I-95. That we headed up there via 95 has a lot to do with genuine lack of enthusiasm by the time we got there as I suspect everyone on the East Coast from (possibly) Maryland to Maine decided to go there yesterday.
I have no idea what either Connecticut or Rhode Island did with the gasoline excise tax money supposedly dedicated to highway infrastructure, by the same token the Feds as well as I-95 in a Federal Road, but they must have spent it on candy as none of it went to repairs of the roadways. Check their teeth and call their dentists.
I need little provocation to became an idjit behind the wheel and by the time we arrived at Providence Place I was in full idjit mode. There are more stores than you can imagine and at least twice as many as you'd ever need in one lifetime all under one roof and we had, all three of us, a very pleasant afternoon despite my white s=knuckles and gargoyle like grimace for sometime after we'd arrived.
Eventually the blood returned to my hands and my tensed facial features relaxed though I will concede we're talking relative degrees of 'ugly enough to make a train run on a dirt road' (courtesy of Dave "Lips" Malone). And we stopped for dinner on our way out and caught the dying rays of the setting sun as we headed home, fearing that by this time tonight we may be staring into the teeth of Winter Storm Titan (why not Terence, or Terry? Sounds friendly and folksy not fearsome). Talk about Bright Lights and Big City. We had ourselves a time and no redwoods were harmed in the making of our adventure.
-bill kenny
Saturday, March 1, 2014
So This Is Better than Nothing?
I had every intention of working on something more suited, dare I say a touch more lyrical,to mark the first of March. And I have nothing. A head full of hospital aches and pains that I hope continue to recede as the days slowly lengthen and warm.
I'm doing lots of nothing today-okay, I'm hoping there's an exhibition game on YES with the Yankees or I'll watch the Red Sox if I have to (checking to see if you're wearing your BoSox), anything to help me think that the winter is ending even if the weather and the calendar aren't holding out a large amount of hope yet.
This time last year we were still talking about Nemo, pictured above and I can only hope when (or do I mean if?) this winter ends, that we don't have fodder for similar tales. I still get cold looking at those photos and we have had more chill this winter than is to my liking so if the typing gets sloppy, it's because I'm wearing gloves.
-bill kenny
I'm doing lots of nothing today-okay, I'm hoping there's an exhibition game on YES with the Yankees or I'll watch the Red Sox if I have to (checking to see if you're wearing your BoSox), anything to help me think that the winter is ending even if the weather and the calendar aren't holding out a large amount of hope yet.
This time last year we were still talking about Nemo, pictured above and I can only hope when (or do I mean if?) this winter ends, that we don't have fodder for similar tales. I still get cold looking at those photos and we have had more chill this winter than is to my liking so if the typing gets sloppy, it's because I'm wearing gloves.
-bill kenny
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