Thursday, January 10, 2008

Ciao Adam

While I was in the states, I received word that my clan, such as it is, had grown by one. Adam Paul Roxburgh, brother to Owen and son to Aaron and Sonia, as well as grand son to my sister Jane, and great nephew to my brother and I, and . . . . well, you get the idea, has decided to take up residence with his nuclear family in Vancouver, BC.

I wish him welcome, a calm and thoughtful life, the opportunity to do good in our world, and the resolve to take advantage of that opportunity. I wish that our generation were leaving him with a happier, healthier place, but with the right guidance from his brother, his mother, and his father, and with minimal influence from this great uncle, I hope that he will be able to put right some of the things my generation has worked so hard to put wrong.

Welcome to our world, nipoto mio, know that you are loved.

ADDIO MICHELE

There was a lot of pleasure and pleasantness in coming back home, but all was not a bed of roses. Ignatzia Marcese, Paolo Ficalora's wife, had been worried about her brother, who was in hospital in Northern Italy even when I left for the states. On New Year's Day word came to her that her beloved brother, Michele Marcese, had been relieved of his life at the age of 73, which in recent months had been a life filled with pain. I never got to meet Michele, but I know Ignatzia very well, and also his sister Maria. They are such quality people, I know that Michele's passing will leave a terrible hole in their hearts, and the world has lost a fine young man. I am sure you join me in passing condolences on to Ignatzia, Maria, and their families.

Christmas in the Clouds


Home at last, home at last, great god a mighty, I'm home at last. I think that was the basic feeling I had when we finally arrived at Baia Ranella, after our flight from Boston to Milan, Milan to Palermo, and then our driver, Salvatore, picking us up and whisking us home. And us includes, from left to right, Dustin, Jon, Steph, Jess, and yours truly.

It was Christmas eve day, and I had asked the German's who rent an apartment near ours, who were going to be in town for Christmas, to pick up some food for us so that we would not have to count on the stores being open. We were able to have a little snack, and then we all took naps. Thank goodness that Petra, Lutz, and Klaus got us plenty of provisions, because when we went out later, grouchy and hungry as bears after hibernation, all of the pizzerias were closed. I did not mind so much, with the wonderful fresh breads, fruits, and cheeses that we were able to eat at home. We did get to watch some films, including Christmas in the Clouds, the wonderful Christmas movie that Kate Montgomery brought to the Adirondack Film Festival when I worked there.
The next day the five of us, along with Petra, Lutz, and Klaus, all went to dinner together. It was a special dinner at Sciacca's best gourmet restuarant, and we drank to the spirit of Fran and to Klaus's son Tomas, who also died around Christmas time a few years back.

My friend Woody had gotten my a Texas Hold 'em Set when he came over in September, and we used that to amuse ourselves in the evening. Jon proved to be both skilled and lucky (no wonder he hosts games at his house every week), however, I was able to come up with two pear once. It made the time pass quickly, and we all found that tons of sleep was just what we needed to get rid of jet lag, the stresses of school, moving, and working too hard on jobs.


The morning after Christmas, we had Salvatore pick us up and take us on a tour of Monreale and Palermo. It was amazing for me because there was almost no traffic. Of course the folks were all celebrating my onomastico (Saint's Day), but I had not expected to be so honored. St. Stevan must be pretty good to get most people to stop working and head to the country for a picnic with the family. Jon and Steph enjoy having their picture taken while they are jumping up and down, they had opportunity to do that in front of Piazza Pretoria in Palermo (also known as Piazza Vergogne, or Piazza of shame, because of all the naked statues surrounding the fountain. It is interesting to note that one of the Pope's decreed that all the penises be cut off from the statues, and that was done. It leaves me wondering if there is not a box full of stone penises somewhere in the Palermo Cathedral.)

We met Angelo and Franci for a wonderful lunch at Il Vespri, near Teatro Massimo. Jon had hoped to get a picture of Steph pretending to be Michael Corleone's daughter, dead on the steps, with him jumping over her, however the stairway was locked off from the public.

Another day we drove over to Agrigento, to see the Valley of the Temples. Jess got into the jumping spirit, and where better to jump than at the Temple of Concord. It was Dustin's first time in Sicily, and he seemed to enjoy the sights, When he was not posing with Jess in front of Temple columns, he was climbing into the necropoli with Jon, apparently searching for left over bones. It is always nice for me to see Sicily through the fresh eyes of a first time visitor like Dustin.

When we were not touring and laughing and smiling, we had time for some wonderful conversations, and some quiet times to reflect, as well.
The kids left on December 30th for their next great adventure, Paris for New Year's eve. It was wonderful having them here.

Wednesday, January 09, 2008

Thanksgiving Pilgramage VI - Boston again

Time to go back to Boston, regroup, and head home with the kids in tow. I was near the end of my rope, getting homesick, and wondering why in the world I had decided to visit the north east US during a time when I might meet some cold weather and snow. At least Boston was known for more temperate conditions, so I would not have to worry that much. Also, this time, and again to save a little money, I had a direct flight to Boston on Jet Blue. I do not mean to do a commercial for an air carrier, but I had more leg room on this flight than any other time on this trip, it was on time, clean, comfortable, professional. Bravo to Jet Blue.

Anyway, I got to Boston to find that they had used their temperate weather to collect two feet of snow while I had been gone. Of course, that was not enough to really make things awful, so it kept on falling.
I had forgotten how beautiful fresh snow looked on the branches of trees. I had forgotten how could it could be taking pictures of beautiful fresh snow on the branches of trees. I had forgotten how slippery new fallen snow underfoot could be while I took pictures of beautiful fresh snow on the branches of trees. I had forgotten that when beautiful fresh snow is on the branches of trees, you can bet it is also on the street and on driveways, and there might be enough to shovel in the cold and slippery world.


Well, my memory was soon jogged by the beautiful fresh fallen snow. But it was at least bareable. And yes, the residents only parking sign means what it says. Both Jon and Walter got reminders of that on their windshields when they came over to join Jess and I for dinner.

However, the point of the visit, at least for me, was my nephew Jake's return from Tanzania, where he had been studying for a semester abroad from Earlham. (Both Jake and Rachael go to Earlham, both are doing well there, and both were at dinner with us that evening) He had been able to visit Irlanga, where they are building housing for a widow and her family, and dedicating the house to Fran's memory. He was able to take some pictures, including of the marble sign that will be on the house. I was moved by Jake's determination to get to that far corner of Tanzania and bring back the pictures. He will be forwarding them to me soon, and I will put them up on this blog later.

Meanwhile, Jess and I did have to dig her car out, and drive to Albany to pick up Dustin. Then we all sort of got ourselves organized, and got to the airport as the New England Patriots tried to finish out their regular season in an undefeated fashion. I am happy to report that they did so. Bravo.

I need also to mention that my brother has self published a CD of his banjo and singing, called Idle Play, and he performs under the name Izzy Sane. If you can not find it on your record store shelves, perhaps you could try ordering it from WWW.Waltstime.net

All in all a good pilgrimage to the homeland. I was able to collect five baggage inspection cards from fatherland security, saw some wonderful people and ate some wonderful food, was reminded about how much I have come to dislike cold and snow, and somehow was reminded that America can be a land of promise, and that we must all work together somehow to make sure that the promise of America is kept.

Thanksgiving Pilgramage V - the Northeast

Here is where we find a total lack of pictures. This is the leg of my journey that took me from Buffalo to Dunkirk to Rochester to Phoenix to Saranac Lake to Burlington to Syracuse to Dunkirk to Fort Erie to Dunkirk, before I finally returned to Boston.

If you really want pictures of this part of the trip to look at, I would suggest you take out a bright white piece of paper, and stare at that. It is sort of what the world looks like when covered with snow.

And the snow did indeed hold off until I got to Dunkirk. Barely. No sooner had I unloaded my car at Jr. and Jo's and gotten comfortable, the weather started to turn colder, the winds came up, and snow was in the air. I will not suggest that I was like a little kid in a candy shop dreaming of a white Christmas. I was more like a kid visiting from Sicily, dreaming of warm weather.

Anyway, I visited with my in-laws for a few days, and then started a circular path that took me through Rochester (where I got to see my step mother Andrea Frost), Phoenix (New York, not Arizona) where I visited my adult education friend Donna Besaw, and we got to see Sweet Honey in the Rock in concert at Oswego State, along with a group of Donna's wonderful and interesting friends, and where I also ran into Fran and my old friends Michael and Annette Riposo, from whom I had not heard in about thirty years, and who is quite the Italy afficionado, and may even come to visit the best part of Italy some time when he is on his yearly pilgrimage to Florence, and we got to experience snow coming down like there was no tomorrow. Ah, the joys of lake effect.

If the snow was not enough, I then drove north into the mountains. I had almost forgotten how beautiful the mountains are, and I had also almost forgotten how awfully cold it can get there. Of course six or so inches of new snow on the road did not help my flash backs be pleasant ones, but I did get to spend a nice relaxing and wonderfully warm evening with my friends in Vermontville, Al and Kathy Berg.

The next morning, it was on to Plattsburgh, and the snow kept me from meeting friends from Montreal there. Then on to Burlington, over a choppy and windy Lake Champlain, but at least the Ferry was solid and got me across in good order. Burlington also was full of snow and cold, but I again received a warm welcome, this time from Lloyd, Nancy, and Asa Portnow, the friends that I ran into in Rome, and who I hope will be coming to Sicily in short order. We had a wonderful evening, and they had gotten together a group of people who wanted to know more about Sicily and about visiting there.

Then it was back to Dunkirk, with a too brief stop to see my friend and advisor Barbara Arndt, and my lawyer Bill Dewart. Back in Dunkirk, I was wined and dined by the Piede's and visited with the Priveteres, who had visited Sciacca just before I left for the states.

Then off to Fort Erie, to see my friend Michael, his wife Sandy, and his two daughters Sam and Jess. That was a nice relaxing time, and I was filled in on the latest plots America has devised to take over Canada. I was also reminded on an hourly basis that our government has allowed the dollar to become so week, the Canadians are considering changing their money into some US currency, as it is becoming cheaper than what we call rolled hygienic paper here in Italy.

Then back to Dunkirk for the final few days, I thought, in the terrible cold and snow. Jo had found out that I loved her pot roast, and she made it for the second time in my honor. Jo, I really do love your pot roast. I seem to travel on my stomach, and it is food like that that does wonders for me. Of course Kathy Piede also made a wonderful dinner for me, however I was still having some adjustment problems with the American diet, so I was unable to do it justice. And yes, everyone else made this leg of the journey far easier than it looked like it was going to be on paper. Too many miles, too many people to see, too little time, too many folks I did not get to see. And that seems to be the way it is when I get to the states.

Tuesday, January 08, 2008

Thanksgiving Pilgramage IV - Maryland

Finally, it is time to talk Turkey. And yes, that is a Teddy Bear you see on my bed, with a Turkey hat on. It is the hat that Fran somehow found at a dollar store, and that we wore over a year ago when we met Jon and Steph in Amsterdam for Thanksgiving. I brought it along, and wore it when Jon picked me up at the airport, and when my friend Eric Chandler picked me up at the Baltimore Airport. Eric's wife Carol decided it would look good on the bear they were loaning me while I stayed with them for Thanksgiving.

But before I go any further, let me tell you about getting from Albany to Baltimore. I am not necessarily a skin flint, but when I found out that it would cost me one-third the price for a one way ticket from Albany to Baltimore if I did not mind two stops along the way, I jumped on it. For less than one hundred dollars, I was able to fly from Albany to Washington - Reagan, then on to LaGuardia in New York City, and finally on to Baltimore. Time is something I had, why not. The flights were almost on time (I say almost, because my Washington to New York shuttle was actually almost an hour late, but I got one that was supposed to take off an hour early, so I got to New York just about right on time!!). And of course, for the second time (I had now taken two sets of flights) the office of fatherland security had left a little note in my suitcase that they had looked in it, and apparently found nothing they wanted or needed.

Anyway, I had last seen Eric at his New Jersey townhouse. He was in the throes of finishing a wonderful house on the Eastern Shore of Maryland, where he and his wife Carol now life. Eric and I went to separate high schools together, and if I did not really, in my heart of hearts, think that my youth was well spent, I would say that we shared our misspent youths together, along with the third member of our Musketeer group, Carl Buchin. Through the wonders of e mail and skype phone calls, Eric and I have again become close, and I am elated to say that I also consider his wife Carol to be one of my friends now too.

As you can see below, they have a wonderful view of the water that flows behind their house, as well as an amazing look at sunrises across the road from their house, where the sun also seems to rise out of the water that flows by near the Chesapeake Bay.
Even in the fog, the view was spectacular. The shot below shows Els, a neighbor and what the Eastern Shore folks call a 'waterman', gliding by in his fishing boat. As Eric got to know Els, he found out that he had been a navigator on a B-52 very much like the one that Eric had been a crew chief for during the Vietnam War. One day, after coming back from fishing, Els brought a huge fish over to give Eric and Carol, as they saw he had company (me) and thought we could use it. Then he opened his fish chest, and showed off an absolutely huge fish he had caught that day, that he had named Bubba.

The Eastern shore, and the water views, brought me a wonderful sense of peace. Of course it was helped along by Carol's unbelievable cooking. I just finished the book 'The United States of Arugala' and I think that Carol should have been interviewed by Craig Claiborne, from what I can tell from the book. At any rate, I did stay for Thanksgiving dinner, and Eric's son Fred and daughter Meg, along with her boy friend Dave. Unfortunately, Carols son was not able to make the trip up from DC, and her daughter and family decided to stay closer to home in New Jersey, and enjoy Thanksgiving dinner with her aunt and uncle there.

I had met Fred and Meg before, and they are wonderful kids. Fred is a computer nerd, like Jon, although I think he prefers the title IT specialist, or something like that, just as Jon prefers some obscure initials to hide the fact that he plays video solitare all day. Meg is a nurse, an EMT, and is soon to be studying for Nurse Practitioner, I think. She is a wonderful and caring young lady, and I am sure that anyone in her care will fare very well indeed. Dave is also a medical person on ambulances, so I was regaled with that special humor only folks who ride, fully conscious, in the backs of ambulances are usually able to hear. I promised I would not repeat any of their jokes or vocationally related slang vocabulary, but it was good.

Have I mentioned that Carol is a wonderful cook. Well, she is indeed, and she out did herself with preparing Thanksgiving Dinner. When I say it was Turkey with all the trimmings, I mean it had ALL the trimmings. Having been out of the states for the last 6 Thanksgivings, and not having access to turkey that we could easily prepare in our smaller than US size oven, it was wonderful to have Turkey once again.

As you can see, while Carol did the cooking, it was up to Eric to try to figure out how to carve the Turkey. It seems to me that American men should be taught in school how to do such things, as all too often the task is thrust upon us with no training whatsoever.

At any rate, following a few false starts, Eric finally got the appropriate equipment, and had at it, doing a fine job of cutting, and hiding away enough leftover to keep even me happy for a few days. And not only was there Turkey left over, but wonderful fresh pumpkin and apple pie, stuffing, oh my, I could go on and on and on. And the best thing, the thing that really makes me take my toque off to Carol, the thing that would make the heart of all Sicilians proud (although she claims no Sicilian heritage) is that she used all fresh ingredients - not a can or frozen food container to be seen anywhere. BRAVA CAROL! BRAVISSIMA!!

With that, and a truly spectacular week with them, I will leave Eric and Carol for this trip, with my heartfelt thanks. The Tuesday after Thanksgiving Eric braved the crazy traffic to the Philadelphia airport, where I was scheduled to take flights to Rahleigh Durham, on to Washington Reagan, and finally to Buffalo (you guessed it, saving two-thirds the price of a direct flight on the same airline). When I got to the airport, one of my connections was going to be late, so I was rerouted through Boston with one less flight, and landed in Buffalo four hours earlier than I had expected.

Thank you Eric and Carol for a truly wonderful stay on the Eastern Shore.

Thanksgiving Pilgramage III - Milton and Beyond

The morning after Jon's wonderful party (and this should teach blog reader's to start at the last entry read, and then move up in order of entries, instead of reading them as presented) Jon, Steph, Jess, and her boy friend Dustin all drove out to Milton to join my brother Walter, his girl friend Judy, and his daughter Rachael for brunch. It was wonderful. Walter felt under a little bit of pressure when he found out that Dustin was a chef, but he did a fine job feeding the lot of us. It was especially nice of him to host us on this particular Sunday morning, as a dear friend of his, and someone quite important in his church's music life, as well as the classical music scene in Boston, had just died, and his life was to have been memorialized in music at church that morning.

At any rate, the kids got to know each other a little, and Walter got to meet Jess, Dustin and Stephanie for the first time, and the food was good, and the setting peaceful and relaxed. Who could ask for more. We let Jon and Jess and Steph and Dustin go about their business, which was I suppose celebrating Jon's actual birthday, his engagement, getting ready for Jon's regular Texas Hold 'Em game, and his Patriots Watching party as well, while I stayed on with Judy, Walter, and Rachael. We sat around a chatted for about four hours, until finally I had to ask Walter for a ride to the bus station, so I could be off on the next leg of my journey, to Albany and a visit to Ted and Marge Fedak. I wish I had pictures from my afternoon stay with Walter, but maybe I can get him to send me some, and I will add them later.

Ted and Marge Fedak were old friends of my parents. Mom and Dad used to call Ted my Dutch Uncle, as he was never afraid to make sure that I was following the right path. Marge stayed a bit more in the back ground when I was growing up, but I remember her as being a good friend of my mother's, and I suspect that much of her Dutch 'Aunting' went to my sister.

In later years, when I was working for the Fulton Schools, Ted and I found ourselves active in the Kiwanis Clubs where we lived, and we played host to each other in our local club's golf tournaments. Ted and Marge also visited us in the Adirondacks one year, and Fran and I stopped to see them several times as we were passing through Albany. We were also thrilled when we were invited to attend their anniversary celebration, at which they sang the Mass, with Marge, and her BEAUTIFUL voice, singing solos that soared through the Ukranian Catholic Church that they have been active in for many years.

They had a fairly serious traffic accident last summer, and Marge is still not able to walk as well as she would like. However, they do seem to stay active, and I had a wonderful two days with them. I even got Ted to get up early on Tuesday morning to take me to the airport, so I could start on the next leg of my journey.

Thanksgiving Pilgramage II - True Love

While I was in Boston, Jon prepared to celebrate his birthday. Well, actually, he did not prepare to celebrate it. His girl friend Stephanie, with a little help from Jess and me, prepared a birthday celebration for him. We devised an excuse to get him downtown for dinner the night before his birthday, and then devised another excuse to stop for a drink before dinner at the place where he and Steph first met.

There Jon was greeted by about 30 of his friends and family. Even Steph's mom and dad were there. When Steph thanked everyone for keeping the surprise a surprise, Jon looked around and just smiled and smiled and smiled. Then, to turn the tables a bit, he reached into his pocket, and told everyone that he had been carrying around something for about three weeks, waiting for the right moment, and he thought it was indeed the right moment. Then he presented Steph with a diamond ring, asking her to marry him.
The story, of course, does not end there. Steph gave Jon the birthday present of his life. She said yes. They are indeed a wonderful couple, one could not want to meet two finer people. I felt honored to be there for this special moment. I know that Fran loved Steph, and could not be happier that they will be looking forward to a life of happiness together. The wedding will take place, I think, some time next fall. I expect it will not be a surprise.

Thanksgiving Pilgramage I - Waltham

This blog has not been active for almost two months, and there is a reason, or at least an explanation. I have been on the road. So here is the first of the series of Thanksgiving Pilgrimage recounts, and there will be more, and then their will be something like a Christmas Pilgrimage, regarding returning to paradise, and if I am lucky, I will get all of these entries done before I fly out to San Francisco for the Martin Luther King Day celebrations. Also, as further introduction, I must tell you shame facedly that I did not take my camera out nearly often enough, so you will be too often stuck with 1,000 words when a simple picture would have done.

I left for the US on November 15th, and Jon picked me up at the Boston airport and deposited me at his Jess's house in Allston. Jess had just finished her semester's work at BU in the Journalism School (where she did quite well indeed!!), but was exhausted. The three of us took a drive, found me a cell phone to use in the states, had some wonderful Indian food, and then Jon headed home and Jess and I made it an early night, saving time for talking of travels until whenever we woke up the next day. I must admit that the futon that Jess uses as a couch makes a pretty comfortable bed, and I am so glad that Fran and I bought a quality futon many years ago, when it was our livingroom couch.

Anyway, the next day I was feeling lonely for Italy, so I got together for lunch with my doctoral advisor's widow for lunch near her place in Waltham. Arthur Blumberg was a man of rare intellectual acumen, and deep understanding of human organizations. Even though I did not finish my doctorate, he and I remained friends, and often he helped me see some of the forest when I was only seeing trees and branches. Phyllis, his wife, a pretty smart lady in her own right, was also a professor and then associate dean of the College of Human Devolpment at SU. I got to know her better and better as Arthur retired, and I could go into Syracuse for monthly lunch meetings with Arthur, and sometimes Phyllis.

I wish I had a picture of Phyllis to show you, but alas I do not. I did take my camera out at the Elgin Watch Company, which is now a brew pub, where we had a wonderful, long, lazy, full of conversation lunch. I think I had to take this picture, because already I was homesick, and it reminded me of home.

John Hopps and sons has gone through many owners, including Cinzano and Corvo most recently, but they still make some pretty good Marsala wines, and they now make them in Marsala instead of, apparently, in Mazzara Del Vallo. All of the really old, super valuable barrels of Marsala were of course destroyed in the war when the Allies bombed Marsala to make the Axis forces think we might come ashore there.

Anyway, it was a wonderful lunch with Phyllis, and on my swing back through Boston before I left, we were able to get together for dinner and some jazz with vocalist Andy Bey. It was wonderful to see her, and spend that time with her.