Es Weinachtet Sehr

The title is a rough translation of 'It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas', because it is (at least in our house). The last week or so here in Southern New England (shouldn't I say 'pahk your cah in Harvahd Squahe, y'all'?) the mornings have been brisk (Thursday it was barely fifteen Fahrenheit when I left for work) and crisp but with no snow. As I'm not asking for a sled this year, again, I'm not terribly upset about the lack of white stuff. We bought a snow blower three years ago and the first year we had it, I don't think I actually ever used it (and was NOT upset about that at all).

Inside, the house went from the day after the first Saturday in December to CHRISTMAS in null comma nichts. My German wife is the world's most organized person-she has transformed a lazy, slothful dullard into a --okay, bad example; let's use the kids or the house or the neighborhood. She is a wizard at organization and our house is now festive with a capital F (and a neutral pH).

The letter "F" is also the beginning of a word, and part of a phrase, I use a lot from around Thanksgiving through the end of the year (and not fa-la-la-la). I was never good at making or having friends when I was a kid, a life-long habit as it happens, so when I watch people the other eleven months of the year cross the street rather than talk to me, as they now wish me 'all the best', I know better. I'm more polite now and don't tell them where they can stick their well-wishes, mainly because they'd walk funny, but I figured you out, so don't think you fooled me.

Sigrid addresses cards, organizes the holiday shopping, bakes for the neighborhood as she decorates our front porch and lawn with some kind of icicles and bulbs and decorations that purport to be reindeer made of lights (or something). And she covers inside, too, to include, this year a first!, the bathroom. She surprised me last night with a light/motion/sheer viciousness activated (I'm not sure which though 'all' remains a possibility) snowman that converses with you when you turn on the bathroom light. How festive!

It's another balance of payments buster made in China that has one of those high pitched voices, reminds me of a dwarf on helium (actually he sounds exactly like a Halloween decoration she has for the inside front door, that shouts out 'Boo! Did I scare you?'). O how we Christmas here in Norwich, Connecticut (you never knew Christmas could be a verb? How's that for a seasonal miracle?).

In recent years, our family is returning to its 'original size', as our children, Patrick and Michelle, are themselves adults and lead their own lives alongside, and sometimes as part, of ours but they really do have their own orbits. Without discussion (thirty-three years of marriage makes a woman psychic), Sigrid will coordinate everything (and I mean that in the largest possible sense of the word) so that on Christmas Eve, we'll have both Pat (and hopefully Jamie as well) along with Michelle for gift opening and oohing and ahhing, around the tree that she painstakingly decorates with ornaments from the Erzgebirgen and other weinachtmarkten, souvenirs from our life in her homeland, Germany, sharing the tree with the ten or more (I've lost track) painted and blown glass ornaments depicting Norwich, offered at the annual Lighting of our City Hall.

And in the spirit of the season, there will be a time as the afternoon surrenders the last of its light and the darkness rushes in where I stand in our yard and strain to hear a thousand singing herons and the melody of my most favorite of all seasonal songs whose words I cannot understand but whose sentiment is wonderfully clear.
-bill kenny

I Have No Reason to Be Scared

I attend a reasonable number of municipal meetings in a week, not only because there's so little on television (attempted joke) but because so much of the differences in our lives as residents comes from the action and engagement of friends and neighbors who volunteer to serve on our community advisories, boards and committees. So many people in the same device. And while I applaud the collective energy, I’m not sure we’re looking at the world we need to build in the most logical manner possible.

The current concern is The Budget We Don't Yet Have. We've had professionally impartial people warn, as recently as Monday night before the City Council meeting, that much of what we believe about the fiscal health of Connecticut is wrong. There is no rainy day fund, there is no quick fix or silver bullet but, rather, we are told, there's a long, hard process involving lowered expectations, reduced entitlements accompanied by higher taxes. So far all we’ve been willing to do is talk about doing something-the nature of the what-to-do is still vague.

Except when you don't know where you're going, any road will get you there. Look to our recent past. Three months ago, you couldn't find more than a handful of people who thought investing in downtown economic development was a good idea much less worth over three million dollars of public bonding. As election day grew nearer, that sentiment seemed to shift and in the last couple of weeks (since the election) I've yet to meet anyone who voted 'no' on the downtown development bond (though someone must have). However, instead of residents attending Wednesday Team Norwich meetings or dropping in on Saturday workshops, we've gone back to seeing the same (few) faces in those familiar places while interest has continued to tail off.

School improvement, economic development, smart growth, equitable taxation, infrastructure improvement and investment, the bare bones on how our government should work versus how it seems to work. All of these topics are critically important especially at this point in our journey as a nation and none of them are the flavors of the month that so many of us see them as based on our interest right now.What to do has become more a question of what to do next, with the question stretching to the horizon.

The Global Village, the Brave New World Order, Tomorrow is Another Country-whatever you call whatever we are becoming requires we adopt the discipline of a long-distance marathon runner when developing solutions, concentrating on the path as well as the goal. When confronted with unopened doors, we have no choice but to turn the handle and step across the threshold to continue the journey.

-bill kenny

The Quartet Practiced in the Park

If I need more than a dozen words to explain the importance of John Lennon and the music he helped create, and the other music he made possible, I'm too old and you're too young to be having this conversation. And since, chronologically, I got here first, you'll have to leave.

I was born the year Dwight David Eisenhower took the oath as President. Rock and roll was either very rhythm and blues oriented (and called 'race music') or was so white it glowed in the dark with melodies from the Brill Building professionals as sung by any fresh face who showed up at the auditions. Little Richard's originals such as Good Golly, Miss Molly were covered and eclipsed by a variety of white artists and never enjoyed the success on pop radio station airwaves they should have, but the UK rockers had no way of knowing that.

People like Sam Phillips and Sun Records helped change all that with Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, Johnny Cash and (of course) Elvis Presley. The seismic shock Elvis set off echoed half way across the world where tub thumpers, literally, who were part of something the British called skiffle, attempted to emulate the American records they were hearing in the coffee bars and teen clubs.

The perspiring and aspiring musicians who spent hours trying to copy every chord change of every R&B song they heard had no idea that in the USA, the music to which they were so devoted had been co opted and to a large extent castrated by safe-as-houses imitators. Their world then was so different from our world now that words fail, which is why (perhaps) so many of us who came of age in The Sixties turned to music in the first place as a replacement for language.

If all you know of John Lennon is what you've read, you cannot imagine the electricity late night American Top 40 radio had when The Beatles were on. They built a bridge from the UK for every disaffected rocker to cross, and it mattered not if they could sing, Noel Harrison certainly couldn't, as long as they looked the part. The Liverpool lads stuck and stayed when so many others had faded away because they had talent and the ear of a generation who sought a voice while they, themselves, searched for the sound they had heard years earlier. They may have never realized they had become the object for which they searched-we on other hand never cared and embraced them as the Soundtrack of the World to Be.

The Beatles 'broke big in America' in the aftermath of the murder of John F. Kennedy and I've never believed that was coincidence. They were the standard by which all other pop music was measured. It felt, for someone in his teens for much of their public career, that The Beatles had been around forever but when they went dark in 1970, they had been a chart presence for far less than a decade.

Where there were four, only two are alive today. All of them spent, and continue to spend, their solo careers battling unreal expectations, measured by critics and fans alike against an impossible standard no one could match. With Lennon's murder thirty years ago, the death of the public John overshadowed the personal tragedy his two sons, Julian and Sean, as well as the pain and grief his wife, Yoko Ono, and his first spouse, Cynthia, felt and feel every day of their lives, but most especially today.

It's tempting when revisiting history to forget it can just as easily be written as his story because in this case, the band mate, the father, the husband were all walk-ons in the Beatlemania movie Mark David Chapman so abruptly and completely ended exactly three decades ago. For many who never knew the man, except through his music, today is a long day. There's little we can do except enjoy what he gave us while watching the wheels go round and round and wonder what might have been.
-bill kenny

We May Make It through the War

At a moment so long ago it reads as if it should start 'in a another galaxy, far away,' on this date in 1941 (= before 73% of all people on earth right now were born), Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, was attacked by the Imperial Armed Forces of the Japanese Empire.

Their goal, a pre-emptive strike that would eliminate the United States' armed might from the Pacific theater so that Japan's Co-Prosperity Hemisphere ambitions would sweep everything before them, wasn't realized and the USA, awakened from the slumber of self-indulgence and indolence, reinvented its own industrial base and used it as the fulcrum to overwhelm the Axis powers of Japan, Italy and Germany.

In less than four years (and uncounted killed, wounded and missing in action on all sides later), the Japanese home islands as well as massive amounts of Western and Eastern Europe were in rubble and ruins. The map of the world was to change shape, if not size, for decades afterwards as ripples from the pebble in that pond travelled the surface of the globe altering, if not improving, the definitions of nationhood and redefining the aspirations of people and cultures.

If, as some social historians have argued, World War II marked the emergence of the United States as the first among equals in the community of nations and signaled a new direction and level of involvement by the (relatively young, in comparison to other, established, nations) North American democracy in the rest of the world, we must, if we are true to ourselves as Americans, see the ongoing war in Afghanistan, Operation Enduring Freedom, as, in many respects, a continuation of a conflict whose roots are nearly seventy years old but whose themes are as timeless as the foundations of our Republic.

While today we should pause to remember those in the US Military who lost their lives on "A Date that Will Live in Infamy" let us remember as well, those half a world away whose sacrifice and separation from their loved ones is just as real and as profound as for those of the "Greatest Generation" who secured our liberties with their lives a lifetime ago. We owe all who serve our truest measure of devotion and gratitude.

We must resolve, because of their sacrifice, to double and, if necessary re-double, our efforts to maintain the position of the United States as the world's best hope for all seeking a better life for themselves and their families around the world. We have lived for too many decades as the last resort to abandon our dreams and our hopes now.
-bill kenny

All My Favorite Places Reduced to Parking Spaces

It's not coincidental that during the holiday-gift-giving season, there'd be so much attention this week on the municipal meeting calendar to revenue streams and money matters. The good news on revenue streams, if you have yet to go out and purchase waders, attend tonight's informational meeting at 6:30 in Council chambers and you'll discover there's no need to buy them as the stream doesn't come to our ankles.

Unless and until we stop not talking about this 800 lb gorilla in the room, almost anything and everything else we do in any city across Connecticut, and, I suspect, elsewhere, is a waste of time. The City Council meeting itself, which follows at 7:30 has a report on a visit to Wuxi, China, by former Congressman Rob Simmons. The report mentions that the region has 3,000 years of history which, in light of our own 350th anniversary in 2009 and the huge boost in tourism that was promised, equates to how many Tall Ships, I wonder?

At 8:45 Wednesday morning in the Planning Department's conference room at 23 Union Street, there's a regular meeting of the Rehabilitation Review Committee but you'd be hard-pressed to know it by checking here on the city's website (Pointless is a word that best describes most of the note). Of course, if you wish to get both confused AND angry at how badly our city government shares information, you can go here.

Note that every appointment to this committee has lapsed and if I gave you a Bajillion dollars for every meeting's minutes from this calendar year posted online, my wallet would never leave my pocket. Moment of Zen: I spoke with a member of this committee Saturday at how poorly maintained the city's website is and he agreed. So, between us, who is the bigger dope? That was a rhetorical question, but thanks for the thought.

At 4:30 is a special meeting of the Housing Authority at 10 Westwood Park, though since they normally meet the second Wednesday of the month, I'm at a loss as to why this is a special meeting. Unless, it's because for the first time I can remember, there's actually information on the meeting's agenda, though a check here on the city's website turns up zero minutes from any previous meetings so I'm not sure how optimistic anyone should be that we've turned a corner on compliance with state law when it comes to postings.

The Norwich Baseball Stadium Authority has a regular meeting at six in Room 210 of City Hall. And if the previous minutes are any judge (here's October; I couldn't find November), best be on time because these folks don't dawdle at their meetings.

Also at six, crosstown at the Wonder Bar, it's a regular meeting of the Greenville Neighborhood Revitalization Committee, whose October minutes mention a November meeting though its minutes aren't available which is only fair since the June minutes were accepted as the first new business in October, it says, but those minutes aren't posted either. Yeah I know, every penny of it....

At seven in the Huntington School Library is an organizational meeting for the Norwich Public Schools Foundation.

I get confused easily, I admit, especially when there's a listing for a 7 PM meeting of the Public Safety Committee (and a local newspaper tells me it's at the Yantic Fire House) but then I click on the link, here, and the notice says the meeting is next Tuesday (the 14th) and is at the Laurel Hill Fire Department. Symptom or problem? Chicken or egg? Sekt oder Selters.

At 7:30 Thursday morning in their offices at 77 Main Street is a special meeting of the Norwich Community Development Corporation, though I'm discomfited by 'special', since the agenda should state what the 'new business' is because a special meeting can only be on items articulated on the agenda (= 'new business' isn't specific enough). If you're going, there's an update on the Intermodal Transportation Center that should of interest and value.

At 5:15 in Room 210 of City Hall, it's a regular meeting of the Mohegan Park Improvement and Development Advisory, that's actually last month's meeting rescheduled. The agenda includes (I assume) an attempt to permanently close a road that folks (it's said) use as a shortcut through the park. I remember the firestorm at a city council meeting, directed at an alderman who asked this, but where is the traffic study to back up this assertion? With the road closed all summer, where did this speeding traffic go instead of through Mohegan Park? We should have a reason for everything we do and this might be a good time to start insisting on this. Everyone is entitled to his own opinion, but not to his own facts. If there's data to support this decision to close the road permanently, make it public and verify it. If there's no data, either do the research or drop the proposal.

And this Saturday morning, starting at nine in the East Great Plains Fire Department, is the first in a series of citizen forums with the Mayor and members of the City Council, so bring your concerns, criticism and suggestions and be prepared to talk and to listen. My mom used to tell us as children we had two ears and one mouth in that proportion for a reason. It's amazing how wicked smart Moms can be and how slow their children often are.
-bill kenny

Stop Worrying about Shopping Days

Never mind the calendar or the circulars in this morning's paper. Yeah, it's the Second Sunday of Advent, which means how many more shopping days (I'm no better at subtraction than I am at long division) until Santa Claus is born? The link says this is the Sunday of Peace-I suspect ONLY if you don't have a mall and a COSTCO near you.

I'm no longer worried as I'm on to a bigger countdown. And even though this is the time of year I should be putting the credit cards in the freezer to cool them, not this year-because with a little luck the light at the end of the tunnel will be (finally!) an oncoming train. For those down in the mouth about the lack of job growth, crushing national debt and the world of crazies out to get us that seems to be having a membership drive, rejoice and kick back.

Did you buy a 2011 calendar yet from one of the temporary joints in the local mall? I know, sixteen bucks for Taylor Swift or Kittens in a Blender or an official San Francisco Giants datebook. Here's the funny part, we're NOT even gonna need the whole thing!

According to We Can Know.com (I resisted the temptation to download their toolbar; I ain't here on business, babe, I'm only here for fun) and circle the date, they figured out that Jesus is returning on May 21, 2011. Ayup, one hundred and sixty-seven days from now (one day sooner if you're reading this in Guam or anyplace on the other side of the International Date Line) and it's time to put out the Big Light. Those holding out for a leap year and one more day, well, better luck next--hang on, we won't be able to say that, I guess.

Just in time to save some big bucks at the holidays. All those electronic gifts I'm getting folks that come with those ninety day guarantees? I'm skipping the extended warranties you buy at the check-out. I won't need 'em! By the time the coffee-by-the-cup brewer starts behaving like a barissta on crack, it's Rapture Time! And who cares if your LG Blu-Ray DVD player is on the frizz-the Lord Is Come, dude, and you will definitely have more to worry about than watching Narnia.

It's more or less an all your eggs in one basket situation if you think about it. If all of this End of the World As We Know It and I Feel Fine stuff actually happens on the 21st of May, there's going to be some very long faces at Citibank and American Express because, and you can do what you want, I'm not making that monthly payment and I'll bet I won't be alone. What are they going to do?

There's a bumper sticker, but I'm not sure if putting it on your car is analogous to the blood of the lamb on the doorjambs of the Israelites in the Land of the Pharaoh or if we announce your license plate, you have ten minutes to call us here at K-MOO Mineola where you could be a winner in our grand prize drawing radio contest. The Lord moves in mysterious ways, and I'm not sure buying billboards to tell us when He's coming back is part of that whole mysterious ways package or not.

Now, if it happens that IT doesn't happen, I'm thinking we should start now to get our stories straight for those explanations to the credit card companies. I'm telling you, those penalties for missed payments will make you yearn for the Red Sea to just swallow you up.
-bill kenny

Giraffe Necks

This story starts over here and ends up waaaay over there. And while I'm telling it today, it happened yesterday but started the day before. Sorry.

I forgot to stop at my market (yeah, sign says "Bill's" in big red letters on the front of the store; the manager says if he catches me tagging one more time I'll need surgery to remove the spray can) to get a salad for my next day lunch. Actually, I thought I had a project I would be working on through lunch (it's not like I can't afford to miss a meal), and, somewhat chagrined, discovered I was done before the supper bell chimed.

Usually I eat lunch at my desk-I can catch up on other work (I'm assuming my boss is reading this, so don't make that face when I type stuff like that and stop muttering 'butt shark') and organize the afternoon. But here I was hungry and with no lunch. About a three minute hike from the office is a snack bar with a couple of tables so I figured I'd give it a try.

I wound up sharing a table, after asking (I wasn't raised in a barn), and as you may have suspected I have a finite supply of people skills, so small talk at meal time requires effort and is rarely worth it. I stick to tall talk. I thought I was okay since the free chair was at a three-person table and the two guys shoveling down streak fries with cheese and chili seemed fascinated by the utensils and I hoped for smooth sailing.

Except (unseen by me; I've now spent another ten minutes looking for it in the mirror), somewhere on my forehead, is written 'include me in your most private conversations! Nothing is too embarrassing to not be mentioned!' (I have a high forehead, to allow for capital letters) or at least I assume it's written there, based on the discussion I walked in on.

The pair were comparing notes on personal grooming-not that either was what anyone might regard as hirsute, if you follow my drift. Yeah, that was a good guess but try lower. LOTS lower. As the discussion continued about the going price for this service and the frequency of maintenance visits, I stared into my tomato salad and balsamic vinegar dressing like the keys to the universe might be at the bottom of the dish and shifted uncomfortably in my chair as if--never mind why. Talk about creep show.

It was the longest lunch I may have ever had and in terms of awkwardness even more so. Too long in windowless booths of broadcast radio land (because when people reject you by changing the dial you don't see it or feel it) have left me unwilling to make eye contact with most people in close quarters. I haven't lost anything so I have no reason to look for it especially in another person's face.

I found myself listening to the semi-scandalous soundtrack of an adult movie without having any idea as to whom either of the actors might be. I wasn't sure what could be worse-discovering I had been included as carry-on conversational luggage by two guys I didn't know or (gasp!) by men whom I did know and who now knew I knew their ultimate, intimate grooming secret.

Years later (or so it felt), they gobbled the last of the steak fries (and no, I, too, never understand how you run out of chili before you run out cheese and fries) and pushed their chairs away, stood up and bussed their own trays as they headed back to work, wherever it is people worry about giraffe's necks are employed. I don't think it's at the zoo though before lunch I might have thought otherwise. I couldn't be positive they were really walking funny or if I just wanted them to be walking funny out of sheer meanness (and maybe sheer is a poor choice of words).

-bill kenny