Pack Your Own Chute

I have been pretty much a homebody since retirement six years ago. Sue me. I like to sleep in my own bed. That doesn't mean I'm averse to day trips or one-night overnight stays; I'm not ecstatic about them but I can cope.   

I like to drive and if I can't drive, I like to take the train. A hundred years ago, or so, the US rail system was the envy of the world. Nowadays, not so much. As a matter of fact, it sucks. About the only thing I like about trains I can ride now is the one I can take from New Haven that lets me out at Yankee Stadium (our son showed me that and it's way cool). That I have to drive from my house in Norwich to New Haven is not nearly as much fun with my clothes on as I'd like.

I hate flying, or more specifically being a passenger in an aircraft. There's no place to go on a plane. There's no legroom or elbow room. The take-offs and landings frighten me to near hysteria and the rest of the time a flight is like a really boring bus ride at 35,000 feet but with even less to see because we're above the clouds. 

The worst thing of all about flying is the whole getting cleared to board and checking in, and conversely retrieving your baggage. I hate every aspect of the process but cannot afford to fly in my own private jet (curse you, Universe, having me born handsome instead of rich. And delusional instead of sane).

I've never had lost luggage mainly because I never pack anything worth losing (looking at you, Adam) but lots of people have had that unfortunate experience and it turns out there's a cottage industry of purchasers who buy lost luggage. Why would I make this up? 

And complete a happy ending, if not the one you thought of at first.  
-bill kenny

Kyrie Eleison

Today marks the start of my seventy-second revolution around the sun. To be honest, there were times this past year when I didn't think the old geezer would make it, and more than a few moments when I didn't really want to. My birthday makes me morose so if you were looking for a grin, there might be a better day to linger here.

Life is a contact sport and my life coach advised me years ago to learn to like red shirts so I've spent a lot of time on the sidelines and benches watching, sort of like Ray Davies in Waterloo Sunset minus both Terry and Julie. 

I never understand why people congratulate you on your birthday. In my case, my Mom deserves the credit as she did all the work (not forgetting Dad's contribution). As the oldest of six, I was no day at the beach though I recall spending a lot of time at Gramma and Grampy's bungalow in Atlantic Highlands, New Jersey. I guess Salt Life forever, no matter what. 

I may not have as much to show for seventy-two years here on the ant farm as others I suspect, but am grateful for the love of my life, my wife, Sigrid, and our two brilliant children, Patrick and Michelle, and their spouses, Jena and Kyle. 

I like to think I have enough. Be it health, happiness, money, or possessions. I've become rather fond of a quote from Frank Lloyd Wright that I really wish I had thought of first, or last: "The longer I live, the more beautiful life becomes."
I think he's on to something.

Kyrie Eleison.
-bill kenny

B-B-Back in M-M-My D-D-Day

On New Year's Day, 1966, London Records (their USA record company) unveiled a billboard for the next Rolling Stones album, December's Children, that showed the cover of the album blown up to massive scale for the billboard and the words, "The Rolling Stones: The Band Your Parents Love to Hate." 

So true. My father hated rock and roll music, especially the Stones. When he expressed a kind word for The Beatles after hearing 'She's Leaving Home' I almost reconsidered my devotion to them. My point? While music is a universal language and, I think, the way feelings sound, there are innumerable dialects and variations among the tribes. He was a Dean Martin, Perry Como, guy, while what I listened to was 'crap.'  

Sunday night those selected for induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame were announced (as part of "American Idol" without a twinge of self-consciousness at the irony of that choice of venue). I was as thrilled to learn John Mayall had been (finally) selected as I was confused by the inclusion of Foreigner which had (past tense deliberate) one original member, Mick Jones (who was a great interview, as I recall from another lifetime) but he no longer tours with them, leading me to wonder who or what is Foreigner now).

Folks who have been active and successful within the last three or so decades were also inducted though, channeling Dad (somewhat to my chagrin), I have little to no appreciation or understanding of who they are or how what they make could even, as a joke, be called 'music.'  I guess Townsend was r-r-right.
-bill kenny

Charting a Course

Now that we've had three weeks or so to catch our breath (scout for exits perhaps and count our spare change) I heard someone suggest the other day that the best thing about City Manager John Salomone's budget proposal was that it wasn't worse. (No definition of ‘worse’ was forthcoming; I waited.)

I always think of a German expression that translates as 'better a horrible end, than horrors without end.' Point in fact, the City Manager’s proposed budget is not horrible and it's NOT an end, but rather, the necessary starting point to begin a dialogue and discussion (that may get raucous and ill-tempered but that's part of it) which should drive the development and adoption of a(ny) final budget. 

The City Manager was doing his job, and it’s not just the City Council members who must now also do theirs. It’s each of us, and all of us; residents, businesses, taxpayers, luckless pedestrians, whatever you wish to consider yourself.

Any spending document the size of the proposed budget has a lot of moving pieces and a lot of requirements for oversight and coordination. And since you can't tell the players without a scorecard, you can find all of this year's budget documents online. (There are also previous years' budgets for comparison).

If you'd like your very own copy to have and to hold, you can buy one at the City Clerk's office. This is a blinding glimpse of the obvious: A proposed budget tells us what things cost; only we can decide what they are worth. It’s up to us to choose between what we want and what we want right now. No one, including all in city government, elected or appointed, wants to pay more in taxes for goods and services. 

As I will keep saying because we have selective hearing, this is an ongoing discussion we will/should and must have with one another, our city's department heads, and our elected officials as we craft a blueprint, a roadmap (call it what you will) by which we determine the quality and quantity of municipal services, ranging from public education and public safety to trash removal and road resurfacing and everything in between, and what we are willing to pay for those goods and services. The city budget is an agreement we make with one another and for one another.

I have no expertise in finance (and have never stayed at a Holiday Inn), but there’s a disconnect between revenue and expenditure. I doubt anyone is unimpressed by the quality and expertise with which the city and its departments deliver goods and services. Where we need to become concerned is the lack of growth spurt in the Grand List NOT tied to residential reevaluation but to genuine commercial economic development. Simply put, we have nowhere near enough; being busy is NOT being productive in fostering commercial economic development.

Telling the City Council ‘to cut the budget’ may be therapeutic but it is not especially helpful. Cut where? And how? The myth of ‘fat’ in the budget is just that, a fairy story. Budgets in recent decades have been exercises in new recipes for making stone soup as there is no meat or bone left. There’s only so much ‘do more with less’ our city can manage before we accept we can’t do anything anymore as we are.

Economizing alone will not reduce taxes. What we need is more meaningful commercial economic growth that expands the Grand List throughout the city. The quality of our community is built on the quality of the decisions we must now make, starting now
.-bill kenny

All Due Respect for Art's Sake

From my earliest days as a short-pants, no romance little kid, I read National Geographic Magazine. 

I could be transported anywhere and everywhere in the world, and beyond, just by opening its pages. I can even recall a spring vacation trip to Washington DC where we visited the National Geographic building. I'm not even sure if it still exists. 

As much as I love the BBC's "Blue Planet" series, NatGeoTV is and will always be my first love when it comes to what I call reality TV. (Real Housewives of the Antarctic, anyone?). No one can do what they can do. And here's what I'm talking about. 

Breathtakingly brilliant!
-bill kenny    

A Thought that Bears Repeating

Happy Earth Day 2024! I would have gotten you a card but I always worry about where it might end up, recycling bin or landfill, and saw no need to take that risk. Anyway. 

In terms of protecting Spaceship Earth, it seems to me that about all we can do is talk about it because if we're looking to the Fed to set the tone it'll be a little like trying to keep the deck chairs from going over the side of the Titanic (but with the even less actual success, I fear).

This is all the planet there is, as near as I can tell (though I've not made an exhaustive study, admittedly) but I have some history, literally with Earth Day observances. I was almost eighteen when I and a contingent of classmates from the Carteret Academy in West Orange, New Jersey, marched down NYC's Fifth Avenue in the first Earth Day celebration in 1970. 

Okay, we'd gotten lost while in The City for the day (a senior trip of sorts, class not citizens). Not quite sure who it was, but someone figured the parade would be a great chance to meet girls. Who cares why we were there! Still.

I thought then and still think if we work to make the place on the planet upon which we stand and live the very best we can, each of us can rescue all of us. So not just today, but every day, when you see something, environmental or otherwise that causes you to say 'Somebody should do something!' please remember you are that somebody. 

Me, I just bear up my bewildered best and some folks even see the bear in me.

-bill kenny  

Deficit of Thousands of Words

I love and overuse expressions like 'a picture is worth a thousand words,' and 'a photograph can last a lifetime.' I have a dear friend since our days together on the banks of the Olde Raritan (and our evenings in places my memory can no longer recall) as well as a Facebook friend who both are gifted photographers and visual artists. 

I am in awe of their expertise and expressiveness and am somewhat chagrined as I grab happy snaps with my cellphone camera as I wander the hills and dales of The Rose of New England. But I do appreciate gorgeous visuals and have been gorging myself on a news release showcasing the winners of the Sony World Photography Awards 2024.    

To see an image before you and then use your time and talent (and whatever equipment you have on hand) to capture it for the world to see, is, if I may say so, a superpower. And deserving of far more and far better words than I could ever create.
-bill kenny