"Breaking Up Is Hard To Do"; Breaking In Can Be Very Difficult, Too

In this blog I strive to share and document my experiences, experiences that others most likely have not had or will ave the opportunity to experience for themselves.

Living back in America has not eliminated my experiences but the types of experiences has definitely changed.

Last Sunday was no exception.  In 1962, Neil Sedaka recorded a song, "Breaking Up Is Hard To Do", which became a big hit, a smash recording.  Last Sunday I had the opportunity to do something that I suspect that many people have not done too many times or done recently.  Last Sunday I got to break into a car.

Neil Sedaka sang about the difficulties of breaking up a personal relationship.  I am going to write about the unexpected difficulties in breaking into a car.

A young woman had locked her purse and car key in her car.  She was at work and miles from her home.  Her second set of keys were in Hawaii.  She had called and determined that it would cost $100 for a locksmith to come and unlock the car.  I asked her if she knew what it would cost to replace a window on the car.  I had a side window replaced in 2002 when I lived in Curitiba, Brasil for $35.  Well as the saying goes "That was then and this is now.  That was there, and this is here", she checked and the estimated cost to replace a side window was $200.

She asked me to break into her car.  I went out and checked the car.  The keys were laying face up on the driver's seat.  The "Unlock" button on the key was facing up so tantalizing close to us.  I inspected the window and door frame in search of a crack or seam where I could insert a wire coat hanger or flat piece of metal strapping.  It did not look very promising.  I had seen rubber wedges utilized on the top of car windows to create some access for a "Slim Jim" to be inserted to open the door.  For this car such a technique would not work.  Inserting a wedge would only press the window more tightly against the metal frame on the other side of the window.  That same metal frame extended well below the top of the window there by requiring a wire coat hanger or a Slim Jim to be bent 180 degrees to get inside of the car - something that I was not sure would be possible.  This was a moot point because we had neither a wire coat hanger or a Slim Jim.

I got a bright idea of perhaps disconnecting the battery in hopes that it would disarm the lock and security system.  It may or may not have been a great idea, I was not able to find out.  To open the front hood of the car, you had to first release it from inside of the car.

The car owner made an informed decision for me to break a side window of the car.  I was confident that I could do that.  I was given a small hammer with a metal shaft.  I struck the window with a strong blow.  The hammer bounced off window without leaving a mark on the glass.  I repeatedly struck the window with the hammer with ever increasing force.  Each blow had the same effect - bounced off the window and left no marks on the glass.  I ceased my efforts with the hammer when my last strike bent the hammer head 90 degrees on the shaft.  The hammer was broken but the glass was unblemished.

I next tried breaking into the car using a tire iron.  I was able to generate more force with the tire iron but the end result was the same; the window was unblemished and intact.

I did a little thinking, and decided that I needed a more pointed object to break the window.  I found a large pruning shear and plunged the sharp point three times into the glass.  The result of my efforts was to bend the tip of the shear 180 degrees with the window remaining just as I had found it at the start.

I was now getting angry as well as somewhat embarrassed.  I was determined to prevail.  My masculine pride demanded that I succeed.  I had an audience of three women, one of them being my wife who believes that I can do anything, expecting me to break into the car.  Failure was not an option.

I found a 5 foot long 18 pound steel digging bar that had a chiseled point.  I raised the bar and thrust it into the window.  The window deflected as the heavy bar bounced off of it.  The car window remained in tact.  I joked with the woman about was she sure that the window was not bullet proof glass.  I had noticed that there was a Marine Corps Base Hawaii sticker on the windshield so I decided to make a joke about the car being specially prepared. My joke had no effect upon her tears and distress.  I thrust bar once again with greater force but with the same result.  On my third attempt with some rage behind my thrust, the car window finally shattered.  Mission accomplished!

Finally succeeding in breaching the window, I reflected upon the difficulty of breaking automobile glass today.  My efforts of the day reinforced the need to use seat belts.  I remarked to the others how much force some one's head must exert on a windshield to break the glass.  It is a force that I would not want to experience or have any one else experience.

I also thought about being trapped underwater in a car.  I have seen movies where someone escaped from their submersed vehicle by kicking out the side window.  I am not going to say it is not possible but I do believe that if it is possible the person must of had some martial arts training and skills that the vast majority of people do not have.

I even had thoughts about coming upon the scene of a burning car with locked doors and unconscious victim.  How could the victim be rescued?

All that thinking and exertions of the afternoon, convinced me of the need to purchase and have readily available in our vehicle a rescue device for breaking car windows.  The device is a very small hammer like device with a special tip which allows a window to be broken with a relatively small blow.  Many of these devices also have a means for cutting seat belts.

The devices cost around $7 to 20 dollars and are available many places as well as through Amazon.

Breaking in can be difficult, but not if you have and use the appropriate safety device.

Be safe, but also always be prepared

Let's Not Forget

Events in life can sometimes be thought of as rivers.  Just as with rivers events have creative as well as destructive influences on people far removed from the source.  Just as with rivers, events are difficult to control and often times efforts to control them have far reaching negative impacts well beyond our imagination.

Three events this past holiday weekend have created a confluence in "Allen's World".  These events have converged and reinforced in me a common theme and reaffirmed the importance of history.

The first event, which I have already written about was the commemoration of the Battle of Groton Heights which is also known as the Fort Griswold Massacre.  On September 6, 1781, a local man, Benedict Arnold of Norwich, CT lead the British raid on New London, CT.  The attacking force of 1,700 regular British Army soldiers was opposed at Groton's Fort Griswold by 164 citizen soldiers.  In the end, the colonists lost the battle with casualties of 85 killed and 60 wounded.

Some 230 years ago common people; farmers, merchants, tradesmen rose to the challenge, left their families to defend their cause with many never to return to their loved ones.

The second event, also a far away event but in distance rather than in time, was a phone call from my oldest son.  He called to inform me that his 24 year old brother-in-law was in the ICU of the hospital fighting for his life after a four story fall on September 3rd. It was shocking to learn that someone so young and healthy was so quickly in life threatening circumstances.  No one had expected it.

The third event was having a former teacher befriend me on Facebook.  I had been one of her students 50 years ago.  It was a reconnection to my past.  It is an opportunity for me to show her the impact and influence that she has made upon my life from her doing her job so many years ago.  Just as events mold and shape our world so do people to our lives.  I have expressed gratitude in general for the education that I received in the Groton public schools.  However, I have yet to personally demonstrate my appreciation on a personal level to one of the teachers that helped to motivate me and give me some of the tools to use later in my life.  I now have an unexpected opportunity.  However I do have some trepidation that my former English teacher may start to hand out grades on these blog entries.

This coming week also marks the tenth anniversary of the 9-11 terror attacks.  I have written of that day before.  My perspective on that day is a little different than that of many of my friends in that I was living in Brasil.  Much of what I experienced of that time was through BBC International television.  However in the aftermath of that horrible day I was struck by a couple of things.  The first were the final calls from victims in the buildings and planes to their loved ones, the final good byes, and the last words that they felt compelled to express.  The other thing were the countless stories of remorse of survivors of the victims of how they had not kissed them or told the victims how much they were loved or how much they meant to them that day.  The victims had gone off about their lives just as any other day.  Just as any other day they were expected to return home.  Things that needed to be said or should have been said were reserved for a later time; a time that never arrived for so many people.

I remember that in the time after the tragedy of 9-11, we all were more appreciative of each other.  We all held our loved ones closer and dearer to ourselves.  I suspect that we were also much more expressive of our feelings and emotions regarding each other.

Over the passage of time, for many of us, old habits have reestablished themselves.  We may not kiss our loved ones every morning upon waking.  We delay telling someone how much they mean to us or how much we appreciate them because we expect there will be tomorrow or some other day to do it.  But there will always be a September 3, September 6, or a September 11 for someone and no tomorrow for them.  There will be no later time to say or do what should or could be done today.

As we approach the tenth anniversary of 9-11, let's not forget to tell those around us how much we love them, how much they have impacted our life, and how much we appreciate them being in our life.

History Re-Written?

Last Saturday, 3 September 2011, was a special day in Groton, Connecticut.  The commemoration of the 230th anniversary of the Battle of Fort Griswold, sometimes referred to as the Massacre of Fort Griswold, was held.  I will be writing a more detailed blog on this event later.

As part of the festivities, people from throughout Connecticut and Rhode Island came to Fort Griswold State Park to participate in reenactments of colonial period military and civilian activities.  Just as their are people who join Renaissance, American Civil War or Medival re-enactment organizations, here in New England there are American Revolutionary War groups representing American Patriots, British, Hessian, and French soldiers.

These people bring to life our history and make history more interesting to especially small children.  Surprisingly even old history buffs such as me end up learning or seeing something new.

Could He REALLY Be Who I Think He Is?

Well Saturday was somewhat of a shock for me.  I was wandering around taking photographs of the various participants when I came upon a group of "British" soldiers from Rhode Island.  I immediately recognized one of the soldiers for he is one of my favorite heroes.  Although I had studied history four years in high school and even four years of college, I was amazed to see "The Little Corporal", The Sacred Emperor Napolean Boneparte in a British uniform!

Never in all my classes or any of the books that I have read was there any mention that Napolean had fought in the American Revolution.  He had fought in the French Revolution but it was actually against the rebels.  He had served in the French Army and never as a "Redcoat".

Napolean?  In the British Army?

I asked the British Sergeant if he was aware that one of his men was perhaps the Emporer Napolean.  He seemed astounded at the possibility.  As for "Napolean" he claimed that he did not have any French blood in him.  He claimed to be of German, Irish, and Italian extraction.  "Hmmmm" I thought to myself; "Napolean was actually from Corsica which is part of Italy".  This soldier was showing some deftness typical of statesmen.  He denied being French but said he was descended from Italians all the while not admitting he was from Corsica.  I did not have the time to fully investigate but there appeared to be a conspiracy here.  I will perhaps leave it to Glenn Beck and others to pursue this further.

As we engaged in small talk, I noticed that the soldier appeared to relax and let down his guard ... or rather placed his hand inside of his tunic, an all too familiar posture for the man known to be "Napolean Boneparte".

Perhaps this was all a coincidence.  Perhaps this was a case of mistaken identity. Or perhaps some sinister forces are truly trying to rewrite history.

No matter the truth, it was a great day as well as quite a bit of fun.

Rest well and lay in peace. Mon Emperor, ; where ever you are.

The Golden Hour

The Golden Hour In Galilee (Rhode Island)

Duang and I have been in the USA for seven months now.  Caring for my parents takes up most of our time but on occasions we do get out for a few hours.  I am not able to take as many or the types of photographs that I prefer back in Southeast Asia.  Here in the USA people are more sensitive and suspicious of having their photograph taken; and even more so of photographs of their children!  Back in Thailand and Laos, people are honored to have you take their photograph and even more so photographs of their children.   Up until around 1999, the vast majority of my photographs were of landscapes and animals with perhaps as little as 5% being of people.  Now, outside of the USA, 90% of my photos are of people.

Saturday, Duang and I drove over to the Washington County Fair in nearby Rhode Island.  I wanted Duang to experience a quasi-rural county fair.  I brought along my camera gear in anticipation and hopes of getting some photographs.  The Fair was nice but after about two hours, Duang was a little intimidated by the amount of people and was tired.  I had taken only 6 pictures and was quite conscious that the few people that I would consider photographing were not all that willing to be subjects.  Undeterred we moved on to Plan "B".

On previous trips to the area, we had toured some of the areas that I had frequented during my years at the University of Rhode Island but we had yet to spend any time at the local fishing villages.  Plan "B" was to drive down to Galilee, have some dinner, and take some photographs during the "Golden Hour" which is sometimes referred to as the "Magic Hour"  If I could not take photographs of interesting people, I would fall back on to what I used to shoot ... landscapes and work on some portraits of my willing model Duang.

The "Golden Hour" is roughly the time just after the sun rises in the morning or the time just before the sun sets in the evening.  It is at this time that the sun is low on the horizon which produces a much softer and more diffuse light than the midday sun.  During the "Golden Hour", shadows are not as dark or as sharp as during the other times of the day.  The light is also warmer with more of a reddish hue.  This time is also a time when magic can occur.





Nossa Senhora do Carmo By Day, Ouro Preto, Brasil

The strongest example of the magic that I have experienced occurred in Ouro Preto (Black Gold), Brasil in November 2000.  Ouro Preto is a colonial mining town located in the state of Minas Gerais.  It is the location where gold was first discovered in Brasil. It is now a UNESCO World Heritage Center.  It is a beautiful and fascinating place to visit and even more so; to photograph.
The center of town is dominated by many large colonial structures one of them being the church, Igreja Nossa Senhora do Carmo.  The church is covered in stucco which like the concrete structures of Asia develops an unattractive "patina" of soot, smoke, mold and mildew making the buildings a dull light grey with streaks of black if they have not been recently power washed.  It is what it is.  However it can be at times marvelous especially during the "Golden Hour" when everything is magically transformed.




Igreja Senhora do Carmo During the "Golden Hour"


I had been walking about the city all afternoon long with my wife when we were headed into the center of town to have dinner before grabbing a taxi to our possada on the outskirts of town.  Walking the streets of Ouro Preto can be a challenge.  The town is very hilly, some of the streets are quite steep, and many of the streets are cobble stoned.  Along with the elevation of 1,100 meters (3,400 ft) and heat, these factors all contribute to tiring you out.  As we were crossing over a small stone bridge during the "Golden Hour" just prior to making our way up to the city center, I saw Nossa Senhora do Carmo unlike anytime before during our stay.  It was completely bathed in gold - golden light.  It was awesome.  Since my wife was tired I had her sit on a bench placed on the bridge, while I hustled up the steep street to get a better perspective for photographing the sight.  I ended up taking 7 pictures.  Seven pictures?  At the time I was shooting film so I was much more prudent in the number of photos that I took than today with my digital cameras.  After taking the seven shots, I excitedly returned to where my wife was waiting.  I described how beautiful the scene was and when I turned around to point out the golden scene, the light was already gone.  My "Igreja D'Ouro" (Church of Gold) had transformed with the dying of the light into a cold drab bluish grey building.  The entire metamorphosis from a light grey black streaked building to a golden shrine and then to a cold drab bluish grey structure had taken about 15 minutes.  Although the magical time is referred to as the "Golden Hour" it is not exactly an hour because of location and locale.  Because Ouro Preto is closer to the equator and because it is so hilly, the magic lasts much less than an hour.

"Igreja d'Ouro"

Eleven years later back in the USA, I had no expectations of capturing the magic of Ouro Preto but I was looking forward to seeing what could be made from the "Golden Hour" in Galilee, Rhode Island.  Like most places and all people, a great deal has changed in the 40 years since I left the area.

Where fishing boats used to command center stage in the center of the port, the two Block Island ferries, one traditional and the other high speed, dominate the port as well as surrounding land.  George's Restaurant is still at the mouth of the port serving up their famous chowder and fritters along with other seafood fare.  The restaurant is much larger than I remember and I am certain that wait staff are children and grandchildren of the staff that I was familiar with.  A great surprise was despite the cost increases, the food was better than I remembered and the best clam fritters that we have had since we arrived in America.

After our dinner we drove down to the edge of town where the fishing boats now are docked.  It was around 6:50 PM and it was a perfect time.  Other than a few people boarding charter vessels for night fishing excursions, we had the docks to ourselves and the sea gulls.  There was no one around to tell us what we could not do.  There was no one around to look out for us and to question our intentions or motives.

Duang and I walked along the various docks enjoying the sights and smells of a working fish dock.  I took some photos of moored boats and other things.  As in Brasil the "Golden Hour" was also a "Magic Hour".  The low sun was transforming ordinary things into extraordinary sights.  The diffuse warm light enhances the colors and textures.  I took some photographs of  a pile of fishing gear on the dock - a mundane subject if under the harsh light of the afternoon sun but very interesting under the soft light.

Duang was enjoying the moment by taking her own photographs with her camera.  We were on the dock that service boats with ice when I got the idea to take some portraits of Duang, my always willing model.  With the limited opportunities to take my documentary style photographs of people, I have been looking into learning more about studio lighting for portraits.  I have researched renting a studio and studio lighting as well as attending a class related to studio lighting hopefully in the near future.

In some aspects the available light on the dock in Galilee was the type of light photographers work to create in the studio artificially.  I decided to try some techniques out, after all it was free and I enjoy photographing Duang.

Duang In Galilee ... Galilee, Rhode Island

Duang On The Dock Of the Bay, Galilee

Duang Enjoying the "Golden Hour"

We spent 25 minutes photographing and enjoying the summer evening.  Around 7:15 PM the light quality was diminishing rapidly.  It was time to head on home.

It Is All About the Light

Our afternoon out had worked out very well.  Just as often the case is in life, things did not go as we had hoped or expected.  Just as in life we adapted and made the most of the opportunities that did present themselves.

In photography, we are all presented with the opportunities and magic of the "Golden Hour".  If you can get outside, it is there for you everyday and for free.  You may not be able to take the exact photographs that you typically do, but you can learn to broaden your perspectives and enlarge your focus - a worthwhile endeavor and pleasant way to spend any evening.

Now Showing ...

Sawasdee Thai International Restaurant, Groton CT

It is now official and available for viewing ... the first public display of some of my photographs.

Seven of my photographs, selected by the restaurant owner, are now on display at the Sawasdee Thai International Restaurant, 764 Long Hill Road, Groton CT in the Groton Plaza Shopping Center and will remain there for six months.

The frames, backboards, acrylic, and mats arrived on Thursday afternoon from Documounts in Portland, Oregon.  I was extremely impressed with the packaging of the items that I had ordered for this exhibit. All items were well protected and arrived in pristine condition.

Duang assisted me in assembling the metal frames, and mounting the photographs, which had arrived the previous week from Adorama in New York City.  The afternoon went by quickly as we assembled three sides of the metal frames, attached the selected photograph to the black archival mat, removed the paper backing from both sides of the standard acrylic sheet, inserted the acrylic sheet into the frame followed by the matted photograph and then the archival foam board before finally installing the last piece of the frame along with mounting hardware - all the while ensuring that no fingerprints or debris were captured in the process.



"Bent At The Waist" 2009
12"x18", Black Mat, Black Metal Frame



"Lao Loum Labor" 2008
12"x8",  Black Mat, Black Metal Frame



"Duangchan and Family Planting Rice" 2009
12"x18", Black Mat, Black Metal Frame



"Ma Jon and Mother" 2006
12"x8", Black Mat, Black Metal Frame



"Garlic Harvesters of Ban Huai Phueng" 2009
12"x8", Black Mat, Black Metal Frame



"Isaan Songkran Fun" 2010
12"x8", Black Mat, Black Metal Frame

"Ubon Ratchathani Dancers In the Rain" 2010
12"x8", Black Mat, Black Metal Frame

Yesterday afternoon, between the lunch and dinner servings, Duang and I brought the framed works to the Sawasdee Thai International Restaurant to show to Tai, the owner to ensure that the works were acceptable.  She was very pleased and wanted me to hang the photos right then and there.  I drove back to my parent's home to gather the tools to hang the photos ... tape measure, framing square, plumb bob and line, hammer and level.  Walking back into the restaurant with the tools, I felt like I was back in my old days as an apprentice pipefitter some 44 years ago.

I had previously made a scale drawing of the available space and had developed a layout for the photographs so the task at hand was to locate the points for hanging each frame on the wall.  Once again Duang was most helpful and supportive in assisting me to complete the task.  We were both very happy with the end result.  The owners and staff at the restaurant were very pleased also and complimentary.  The display meets the goal of Thai life - "Good for you.  Good for me".

I have a public venue to share and perhaps sell some of my work.  The restaurant has a complimentary addition to their decor.

After hanging the photographs, we returned home to make dinner for my parents.  We then returned to the restaurant to have an intimate dinner - just the two of us; a rare and most welcomed occurrence for us.  Naturally we selected the table across from the photo display.  The food, as always, was excellent.

Photography Exhibit Update

"Bent At The Waist"

A while back, actually almost 3-1/2 months ago, I wrote about being inspired as well as encouraged to develop a photography exhibit of some of my work.  I have not given up on that endeavor and I have been busy developing and redefining my original concept.

A local business has offered me some space to display some of my photographs and to handle any sales that may arise.

The prints have been selected and the prints arrived two days ago.  Frames and other mounting materials have been ordered and through the power of the Internet I am able to track their progress across the USA for a scheduled 5 August delivery.

I have been using http://www.adorama.com/ in New York City for several years for prints as well as my other photography equipment needs.  I have never been disappointed with their products or service.  I have even had them ship items to me in Thailand.  The prints that arrived the other day were sharp and correctly colored just as all the other prints that I have ordered over the years.

Only recently I have gotten into mounting and framing of my photographs.  After researching suppliers on the Internet, I selected http://www.documounts.com/ for my supplies.  Documounts has an extensive selection of frames, mats, and supplies required to display photographs.  Like Adorama, you are given a tracking number for your shipment.  I found that the pricing from Documounts to be very good and their customer service to be excellent.

This will be the first public display of my work and the process has been a learning experience.  Developing an exhibit, albeit a small exhibit, requires a great deal of work.

Based upon the three books that I have produced, I have developed a style for displaying my photographs.  As in my books, the photographs will be surrounded by a black mat.  The displayed photographs will be placed in black metal narrow frames to avoid distracting from the photograph as well as for economical considerations. Separate labels will be mounted below each of the framed photographs.  The labels mirror the style utilized in my books; black background, yellow lettered captions, and white lettering for information.

Prior to producing labels, I had to give a name to each piece of work and determine a price for the work.  Developing a price for your work can be quite daunting,  Photography discussion groups on the web are filled with people asking for help to price their work.  Fortunately I have had plenty of experience in pricing work related to construction projects so I did not have to seek assistance. However I did some research on what other people were charging for similar photographs and evaluated those prices against my wants and needs to develop my pricing.

Labels Created In Photoshop Elements


With names and prices determined, it was time to develop the individual labels.  I had read on the Internet that one person produced their labels using Photoshop.  I decided to try and make my labels out of Photoshop Elements, a watered down $100 version of the $600 Photoshop software program.  Using Photoshop Elements, I was able to create individual 1.5 inch high by 3.5 inch wide labels.  I created a jpeg file to print three labels per 4 inch by 6 print.  When all the labels were completed, I uploaded the files to a flash drive, drove to a nearby CVS Pharmacy, and printed the photographs on a Kodak Kiosk.  In five minutes I had my prints and was ready to move on to the next step of the process.

The 4x6 prints were glued to 3/16"  thick foam board using Scotch Craft Stick.  After allowing the glue to thoroughly dry, I cut the individual 1-1/2" x 3-1/2" labels using a metal straight edge and an Exacto knife.  The edges of the foam board labels were painted with black acrylic craft paint.  After the paint was dry, two small circles of double edged sticky foam were affixed to each label to complete the process of making individual labels for each displayed photograph.

The next order of business was to design the layout for the display.  This required taking measurements of the space and drafting a scaled drawing to develop the arrangement for the photographs.  Either through dumb luck, beginner's luck or Divine intervention, the layout was rather easy as well as symmetric - and more importantly fit the available space!

Discussion groups on the Internet are filled with tales of anger, disappointment, and betrayal regarding people doing business.  The standard question that is sent in response to the initial posting is usually along the lines of "What does the contract say?"  invariably the original poster acknowledges that there was no formal contract.  Having dealt with many claims and a few of construction lawsuits over the years, I understand how important and helpful a contract can be when conducting business.  I am hoping to avoid a personal tale of woe so it was back to the Internet to research contracts and consignment agreements.  Once the research was completed, I developed a proposed contract for the exhibit that is intended to meet the needs and concerns of both parties involved.

It appears that the exhibit will be set up by the middle of August.  I will announce the location when it is available for viewing.

In the mean time I have made a submittal to a local gallery involving my original concept for an exhibition.

URI LXA Reunion

Giving Credit and A Tribute to My Own Ones


Yesterday, Duang and I enjoyed a very special day; a day spent with some of my fraternity brothers, their wives, and some of our special friends from our days at the University of Rhode Island.  I had not seen many of the people since 1971.  Through the technology of the Internet I have reestablished contact with some of them through FaceBook but such interactions are rather restrictive as well as limited.

It was through FaceBook that I discovered that many of my fraternity brothers were reuniting for the weekend.  Yesterday I received the details and drove over to Rhode Island to become reacquainted with people with whom I share a common experience.

This morning as I reflect upon the friendship of yesterday and the bonds established 44 years ago, I am reminded of similar feelings from a previous visit back to America a couple years ago.  Just as then ...
I would like to share one of my favorite (I have many) songs that seems to summarize my emotions and thoughts so well regarding this reunion. Although I am not Irish, the words and thoughts of this song are meaningful and applicable to me and I believe to everyone. I found the lyrics on tp://www.lyrics.astraweb.com/.

Artist: Van Morrison

Album: Irish Heartbeat

Title: Irish Heartbeat

"Oh won't you stay


Stay a while with your own ones


Don't ever stray


Stray so far from your own ones


'cause the world is so cold


Dont care nothing for your soul


That you share with your own ones



Don't rush away


Rush away from your own ones


Just one more day


One more day with your own ones


'cause the world is so cold


Don't care nothing bout your soul


That you share with your own ones



There's a stranger


And he's standing at your door


Might be your best friend, might be your brother


You may never know



I'm going back


Going back to my own ones


Come back to talk


Talk a while with my own ones


'cause the world is so cold


Don't care nothing 'bout your soul


You share with your own ones




Oh won't you stay


One more day with your own ones


Don't rush away


Rush away from your own ones


This old world is so cold,


Don't care nothing for your soul


You share with your own ones"


I came back this time to be with my own ones - some of my friends from a distant past and a far away land of my youth.  More importantly, Duang was able to meet some of the people that influenced me and we had shared our youth together.

I was surprised and very pleased with the caring and camaraderie that I shared with some of my old friends yesterday. Some friends, I had last seen and spoke with during my last year of college back in Rhode Island in 1971.

Despite the lengthy physical separation, the bonds of our shared experiences during the four years at the university survived the years and tribulations of our individual lives. Although we physically changed a great deal, spiritually it was as if we were reunited after only a short semester break. Some people say or perhaps they wrote that making friends in New England is very difficult but that when you do make a friend, you have a friend for life.  Yesterday was truly a testimony to that fact.
I am not so sure that it true that New Englanders are not friendly - it just might be that they are suspicious!  However I know it to be true that a New England friend is a friend for life. There is no need to call, write, or visit often. The friendship is kept and maintained in the heart as well as in the soul.

Life is surprising and can not always be explained. Often it is best to accept and enjoy its richness for what it is. Yesterday was such a time for all of us - a time to celebrate and share our individual lives and the common experience of living.


"Oh won't you stay


One more day with your own ones


Don't rush away


Rush away from your own ones ..."

Duang and I stayed late into the evening as if trying to make the day last even longer, or to bask in the warmth of the day's camaraderie a while longer.  But duties and responsibilities remain so we had to leave.

However, it is through this blog and the Internet that I hope to continue to talk to and to be with my own ones.

I leave proud and happy to have seen and talked with my own ones once again.  Although the world in America has grown old and is experiencing serious economic hardships, their friendship as well as camaraderie survives and prevails. I am a richer person for the friendship, affection, and love of my own ones. I give them credit and I pay them tribute - "Thank You".

I am sure that you too share the wealth of your "own ones".  It is one of the treasures of life.