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.

Sailfest 2011 Fireworks



Fireworks Over the Thames River

 The past two weekends have been busy here in Groton.  There have been two celebrations which provided Duang a little more flavor of American culture.

On July 4th, we attended the annual Groton Fourth of July parade.  The parade had a small town flavor to it and the highlight actually was watching the small children around us.  I was able to explain the Revolutionary War and Groton's role in the rebellion fairly well to Duang.  However I was not able to explain very well the large women roller skating down the street as part of the parade - they were representatives of a women's roller derby league.  Duang was just as much at a loss of understanding of the concept of "roller derby" as to why large women in unflattering clothing would be roller skating down the middle of a street in full public view.  I don't always succeed in explaining the idiosyncrasies of American culture but I always try.  As Duang often says "Thailand not same America".  I have seen women walking down the street in Thailand but they were always wearing their best clothing and behaving demurely and acting dignified - often part of a religious procession or celebration.

The big highlight of early July was the fireworks display on July 9 as part of Sailfest Celebration in New London across the river from Groton.  The fireworks display this year was sponsored for the 19th year by the Mashantucket Indian Tribe.  My parents had often told me how nice the fireworks were so I was determined to see them with Duang this year.  The Mashantucket Tribe own and operate Foxwoods Casino in Ledyard.  As I posted on FaceBook "Thank you to all those who gambled and lost (I guess that means just about everyone) for making this spectacular show possible."

I had been told that approximately 300,000 people could be attending the fireworks celebration so I knew that Duang and I needed a plan.  My first decision was that our plan would exclude driving our car to the event.  Fortunately the fireworks are fired from barges in the Thames River just upstream from Electric Boat - an area that I had walked to many times as a young boy.  I figured that the best place would be in the parking lot of Garbo's Lobsters.  Saturday afternoon just after lunch Duang and I drove down to the area to scout out optimum viewing locations.

As we drove, I was shocked to see how many streets were going to be closed to parking for the event.  This only reaffirmed my decision that we would be walking that night.  We made it down to Garbo's and the entrance to the parking lot was roped off.  Some people were lined up at 12:50 PM to enter the parking lot.  I spoke with some people and they said the the street along the river was going to be closed to traffic at 3:00 P.M.  Just before 1:00 PM a couple of men showed up to remove the barrier to the parking lot.  I spoke to one of the men, obviously the "Boss" since he was carrying a clipboard, about being able to walk onto the parking lot later for the show.  From our conversation I determined that it was possible but whether I had a car or not the fee for a space was $30.  I informed me that there were only a couple of spaces remaining.  It didn't matter to me because I had no intention of paying that amount!  Upon leaving the property I spoke with a family waiting to enter, the husband informed me that he had spent $90 to view the fireworks that night.  He also told me how crowded that it got in the Garbo lot and surrounding area.  He suggested that we walk down and place lawn chairs on the sidewalk across the street.  That sounded like a pretty good alternative to me and definitely a great deal cheaper.

Duang and I returned to our car and drove down Thames Street reconnoitering vantage points.  Everywhere along the river bank barriers had been set up to restrict access.  Property owners were either denying access to the river for their own use or were charging $20 to $30 a car for parking.  I remembered many fond days at Fort Griswold State Park overlooking the river, so I turned the car right to climb the heights to get to the Fort.  Just as our drive along the river vantage points were roped off and parking was severely restricted along the streets - either no parking along one side or no street parking allowed at all.  However when we got to the Fort, I could see people already entering the park carrying blankets, ice chests, and blankets.  From the sights it was obvious to me that this would be our site to view the fireworks.

Since the afternoon was still young and we had our plan, we drove over to New London to attend Sailfest.  Once we arrived in new London, I could not find any available parking for less than $20.  Undeterred I had an idea; we would drive to Shaw Cove, park the car, and walk to the festival.  Shaw Cove is an office development which houses government offices such as Social Security and Veterans Administration along with many doctor's facilities.  Since it was a Saturday afternoon, I thought that there would be plenty of parking,; free parking.   Well I was partially right there was plenty of parking but it was $20 a vehicle.  I found an empty lot that had a sign stating "Event Parking" with no barrier tape or attendants.  As I pulled in, the attendant from the lot across the street walked over to me.  I asked if I had to pay for parking and he confirmed that it was $20.  I told him that it was not personal and had nothing to do with him and inquired if he had a boss.  He confirmed that he had a boss after which I responded "Tell your boss, he can go ... himself"  The guy laughed and we returned to our home in Groton.

I had lived for a time in California where we also had festivals.  At those festivals the city persuaded or perhaps strong armed the local developments to allow the use of their vacant parking lots for festival use.  I suspect that the city provided police surveillance as well as clean-up services for the lots while they were being used.  The businesses contributed to the festival at no cost to themselves - a good deal for everyone.  The city also provided free shuttle service between the parking lots and the festival site.  I believe that New London is missing out on an effective and economical way to encourage festival attendance by not doing something similar.  However New London is the city that a few years ago made international notoriety by refusing to hire a policeman candidate because he scored too highly on an aptitude test.  They informed the applicant that he was too smart to be a policeman in New London.  I will write no more on that matter.

Part of the Gucci Fireworks Show

After returning to Groton, commencing at 6:00 P.M. we walked from my parent's house to Fort Griswold with our car conveniently parked in the driveway.  It was a beautiful night for a walk and most importantly - fireworks show.  The sky was clear.  There was no wind and the temperature was just right for sitting outside without a jacket.

I selected a scenic as well as nostalgic route to get to the Fort, showing Duang the way and building that I attended elementary school, pointing out where long gone restaurants, movie theatre, and friend's homes were located.  It was interesting how much the area had and had not changed over the past 4 decades.  Of course it was all new to Duang which made it exciting for her.

We had not travelled far when the wisdom of not driving a car was readily apparent.  The roads around the park and leading to the park were all closed to traffic other than pedestrians.  Police were at the intersections maintaining control.  We like so many other people walked up the center of the streets past the homes where residents were grilling as they enjoyed ice cold beverages.  All in all it was a very relaxing and festive atmosphere on our way to Fort Griswold.

We arrived at the east side of the park and walked leisurely towards the monument and Bill Memorial Library.  It was very impressive.  There was a mobile Connecticut State Police command center set up along with some ambulances staffed with several EMTs.  The area was well organized and under control.  The control was not oppressive or intimidating but just sufficient to keep thousands of people from getting out of control.  There were vendors booths set up along the road as well as booths where you could buy food and non-alcoholic beverages.  There were also plenty of Porta-Cans available should the need arise.  All in all I was very impressed with the planning and organization apparent along the viewing venues.

I stopped and asked a Policeman if the Fort it self would remain open for the duration of the show.  I believed that the park typically closed at sunset.  He replied that it would remain open for the show.  That was good enough for me.  Duang and I entered the fort and soon found a nice spot on the slope to set our beach blanket.  As it turned out we were actually almost directly behind and about 150 feet above my original planned destination of Garbo's Lobsters. After seeing all the closed roads, I knew that this location was superior for getting out at the end of the show.  It was also cheaper - $0.00 each.

There were a great deal of people watching the fireworks.  Many of the people were drinking.  We were out for 4-1/2 hours and did not see one incident of bad or threatening behavior.  It was, unlike many events in Isaan, a very peaceful as well as relaxing celebration.  Back in Isaan we attend many outdoor shows and we have only stayed from beginning to end at about 4 shows out of about 35.  There is drinking at those shows too but Duang always makes me leave when the fights start and the fights almost always start.  In Isaan it seems like the people get drunk, sloppy drunk; the kind of drunk where the person loves everybody and wants to be every body's best friend.  At some point this aggressive friendliness crosses the boundary of acceptance and becomes a perceived slight or affront.  A push or a punch is made and the fight is on.  Once a fight starts the night is fairly well ruined.  The initial combatants are usually separated but ancillary skirmishes break out between the people trying to break up the inital combatants.  "Face" is often lost which requires combat until "Face" is somehow believed to have been restored.  In general people are not afraid of the Police so running skirmishes continue until the concert is completed or shutdown by the Police.  Duang is afraid that somehow I will get involved in the middle of all this so she has me leave.  The funniest thing was the closest that I got to being involved was at the last show.  I had been dancing at the front of the stage in the "Mosh Pit" area.  Duang became fearful and walked up and brought me back to sit on a chair in front of the police.  While I was cooling off, she went off to buy me a soft drink.  While she was away, the first fight broke out followed quickly by a couple more.  The crowd ran in panic down the center of the viewing area.  The combatant ran along the edge of the viewing area right where Duang had placed me for "safety".  I dodged a couple empty beer bottles that had been thrown not directly at me but in the general vicinity of some "bad guys" that happened to run near me.  I went over to Duang's mother and hovered over her as I told her to go back to our truck.  She was impressed that I was concerned with her safety to the point that I am still in her good graces almost 9 months later.  Needless to say the excellent behavior of the crowd at the fireworks show made a very big impression on Duang as she told me "Amerika not same Isaan"  For me, this was an occasion that I was glad that "Amerika not same as Isaan".

 
 

 
The fireworks lasted about thirty minutes but it was a very intensive thirty minutes.  Tandem fireworks were constantly being fired into the sky.  There were all kinds of colors, sounds, and sights from the exploding fireworks.  There were special fireworks that when they exploded created star patterns and even "Smiley" faces.  Some fireworks exploded to create bi-colored hemispheres.  By chance we had watched a show on cable two weeks before about how fireworks were manufactured or more appropriately "created".  For us it was even more enjoyable to see the melding of science and art to create such an enjoyable art performance.
 

Our surprises for the night were not over.  The police kept the roads closed until most of the pedestrians had cleared the area.  Duang and I were home 30 minutes later and in bed and I am convinced - before many people in their cars had even got on the feeder roads out of the area.

The night had been very enjoyable and a tribute to the organizers of the event.
 

Blue Angels Air Show, +40 As Good As Ever

Last weekend, June 25 and 26, was the annual Rhode Island Air National Guard Air Show at Quonset Point.  I try to show things that are typical American cultural events and experiences so that Duang can get a better understanding and experience of what life in America is like.  I knew that she had never been to an Air Show before so taking her to Quonset Point was a high priority ... dependent upon the weather.  The weather did not seem too promising during the prior days but the forecast for Sunday seemed the better of the two days.  We woke of Sunday and found the weather to be promising for the air show.  The flying events were scheduled to start at 10:00 AM so we left Groton around 8:30.

I have seen many Blue Angels shows over the years.  The last show that I attended at Quonset Point was exactly 40 years ago when it was still an operating Navy base.  I had just graduated from nearby University of Rhode Island.  At that time the Blue Angels were flying the McDonald Douglas F4J Phantom and the war in Vietnam was on going.  The Blue Angels today fly the Boeing F-18 Hornet, a newer version of a plane that they have been demonstrating for 24 years.  Today war in Afghanistan is on going with additional involvement in conflicts in Iraq and Libya.

This year also marks the 100th Anniversary of U. S. Naval Aviation.

I have always been impressed with the ritual of the Blue Angels team preparing to commence their flight demonstration as well as their ritual at the completion of their flight.  I consider the prologue and epilogue to be integral parts of the overall Blue Angel performance.  I wanted Duang to see the complete Blue Angels performance.

Unlike 40 years ago, the Blue Angels were not set up on the main flight line of the Air Show.  The Blue Angels F-18s were parked behind the crowd that was was facing the water where the flying was taking place.  Duang and I set up our chairs right at the barrier separating the public area from the runway and facilities being used for the Blue Angels.  Since we arrived at 10:00 AM we were the first ones in position there for the Blue Angels scheduled 3:00 PM performance.  We were situated in front of Blue Angel #1 and about 20 feet from a large concrete block that anchored the cables used in the barrier to keep people away from the planes.  We turned our chairs to face the water and enjoyed the other performers in the air show.

Blue Angel #4 Arriving After Checkout Flight

I had read in the newspaper that during Saturday's performance there was an engine problem with Blue Angel #4.  On the way to Quonset I had mentioned to Duang that I thought that the air crews would have worked through the night to repair the plane.

I don't know if they crews had worked through the night, but the engine had been repaired.  Although Blue Angel #4 is piloted by Lt. Rob Kurrle, the morning checkout flight was piloted by Lt. David Tickle, Blue Angel #7 and the narrator for the show.  I suppose he was flying to maintain flight hours and to give Lt. Kurrle a break.

Blue Angel Pilot Communicating With Crew After Checkout Flight

Lt. Tickle took off with a roar, made a pass over the flight line and disappeared to less crowded skies to put the F-18 through its paces to ensure that it was fully prepared for the afternoon show.  It seemed like he was gone for around an hour when the plane returned.  The flight was a success for Blue Angel #4 was returned to its designation on the flight line between Blue Angel #3 and Blue Angel #5.  The flight line was aligned perfectly from Blue Angel #1, Flight Leader, through Blue Angel #6, Opposing Solo.  Far to the right of the flight line where some of the other show performers were staged, Blue Angel #7 the Narrator's plane was positioned.

The Job Is Nor Complete Until the Paperwork Is Complete

When I worked in construction, we had a saying that the job was not completed until the paperwork was completed.  I guess the same also applies to flying for the Blue Angels.  After the checkout flight, Lt. Tickle sought the relative comfort and shade of the back of a support van to fill out his paperwork along with the flight crew for Blue Angel #4.

It was interesting to observe a different aspect of the Blue Angels show.  Duang was intrigued by the discipline and formality associated with all aspects of the team.  Throughout the day she would say "Ohhh very nice.  Good.  America up up Thailand.  Thailand not have.  America up up Thailand money"  Later in the day I was told that a Blue Angels performance costs around $1,200,000.  For me, that price is well worth it and I consider it to be taxpayer's money well spent.

Duang and I held our positions at the barrier all afternoon long.  Occasionally one of us would leave to get a closer look at the other performances, to get water, or to just get a change of scenery.  It was in no ways boring and there always seemed to be something interesting to watch, if not interesting to photograph.  We were in it for the duration and committed to enjoy the time.

This looks serious, very serious.  Did I do something wrong?

Around 2:30, one-half hour before the scheduled start of the Blue Angels flight demonstration, things became ominous.  Three security men carrying guns started walking directly towards me.  They seemed very serious.  We had seen security personnel throughout the day but they were more like somebody's young brother parked or driving around in a pickup truck and they appeared to be unarmed.  The guards approaching in the late afternoon seemed to be professionals and were walking and riding in open military vehicles carrying some serious rifles.  Knowing that I had done nothing wrong, I continued to photograph them.  About 20 feet from Duang and I, they finally broke to the left and stopped.  They were looking at the concrete block that anchored the barrier cables.  I then realized what it was all about.  Behind the concrete block was a unattended cardboard package!  I shouted out to them and they came over to me.  I informed them that the box had been delivered by a young woman on their side of the barrier from a beige "Blue Angels Support" van.  I gave a description of the woman to them.  They asked me when was it that she placed the block there and I told them about an hour earlier.  The leader of the team, an apparent civilian, said to the others that it was about right.  There were several walkie-talkie conversations and they seemed to relax - just a little.  With my story seemingly checking out they focused on the package rather than me.  After a while, one man cautiously approached the box and looked at it very carefully.  He shook his head "Yes" and backed off.  The package remained there and the men still seemed concerned about it.  After about 10 minutes, I called the civilian leader over and told him that if they needed someone to go over and open the box, I would do it but it would cost them ... as I pointed over the the Blue Angels flight line and said "I wanted a ride on any one of those planes"  He smiled and said that he had been working security for the Blue Angels for six years and had not gotten a ride yet.  I knew then my best chance to get a ride was not going to be good enough.  Interestingly, when the Blue Angels were performing he was walking the barrier along the flight paths on the other side of the show so I suspect he was the head of Blue Angel security.  As for the box, it remained there behind the concrete block until just before the planes arrived after performing.   Several Navy enlisted people arrived opened up the box and passed out souvenir brochures to the spectators along the barrier.  The Blue Angel pilots then autographed the brochures for people - including Duang.

Once the security threat was resolved the Blue Angel flight demonstration began.  The show starts with the Blue Angels support C-130 plane, "Fat Albert" taking off and performing.

"Fat Albert" In Flight Over Quonset Point

With "Fat Albert" entertaining the 55,000 people in attendance, the Blue Angel pilots and ground crews commenced their ritual to get the F/A-18s airborne.

Lead by Capt.McWherter the Blue Angel Pilots March Down Flight Line to Their Craft.

The six performing pilots lead by Capt. Greg McWherter, Blue Angel Flight Lead, marched in unison along the flight line from Blue Angel #6 towards Blue Angel #1.  As they approached Blue Angel 6, all the pilots in unison returned the salute of the Crew Chief.  Lt. Simonsen, Opposing Solo pilot, broke off from the marching pilots to mount his F/A-18.  As each of the remaining pilots approached his jet, he returned his Crew Chief's salute, broke from the pilot's formation and made his way to the awaiting ladder to mount his plane.  The last pilot to climb aboard his jet was Capt. McWherter; as the team's leader he is the last to mount, first to take off, and first to land.





Capt. McWherter and His Crew Chief Saluting

Flight Leader/Commander McWherter Climbs Aboard His F/A-18

Blue Angel #1 Commencing Roll Down Flight Line

Once the Flight Leader/Commander was aboard his craft the team went through a synchronized ritual of closing their canopies, starting their engines, completing preflight inspections and checkouts, before Blue Angel #1 broke from ground formation to commence his roll down the flight line past the other craft.  Unlike 40 years ago, the planes did not need external auxiliary equipment to start their engines.  After a few seconds of high pitched whining, the engines burst into a throaty roar. Just after being passed by Blue Angel #1, LCDR Tomaszeski taxied Blue Angel #2 behind his leader.  This ballet of aircraft continued until all six Blue Angels were following their leader down the runway.

Capt McWherter Leading the Way

The Show is On!

Part way into the flight demonstration there was a mechanical problem with Blue Angel #1.  I did not hear exactly what the problem was other than it was a "minor mechanical" problem.  later while editing some of the 706 photographs that I took during the day, I noticed that Blue Angel #1 had not deployed the arresting hook while the other planes in formation had.  I suspect that this may have been the problem.

Blue Angel #1 Returns With "Mechanical " Problem

Capt. McWherter returned to the base.  While he was away, the remainder of the pilots continued the demonstration for a while and then flew holding patterns off in the distance.  About twenty minutes later after landing, Capt McWherter roared back into the air ... flying Blue Angel #7.

The Show Must Go On!  Capt McWherter Roars Back Flying Blue Angel #7

The flight demonstration resumed and was everything that I expected and had hoped for.  Duang was in a constant state of excitement with frequent exclamations of "Ohhh!"  "Awhhh!"  "Very Good, Very Nice!"

Flying Blue Angel #7, Flight Leader/Commander Lands At Flying Demonstration Conclusion

At the conclusion of the flight demonstration, Capt McWherter lead his team in landing and taxiing to the original staging area for the Blue Angels.  Although the flight demonstration was over, the show was not over.  Just as there are a series of choreographed movements and ritual for the Blue Angels to take off there are similar movements and rituals for the Blue Angels upon landing. Once again Duang and I relocated; this time from the main air show flight line to our original location at the Blue Angel flight line.





Capt McWherter About Ready to Turn into Formation



The Count On Deck Is Six; All Present and Accounted For ...

Flight Leader/Commander Exits His Jet

 Starting from Blue Angel #6 the pilots form up and march in unison towards Flight Leader/Commander Capt McWherter.  The flight crews having completed they work of securing and chocking the plane's wheels stand at attention.





LCDR Tomaszeski Congratulates His Crew For A Job Well Done

Blue Angel Pilots March Towards Their Flight Leader/Commander

It had been a great day.  Ye. s the sky could have been bluer.  The skies could have been higher.  The Blue Angels did perform an abbreviated show.  I could have been rewarded with a ride in a F/A-18 but was not.  It took us two hours to exit the base at the conclusion of the show.  But it is like life, happiness is not to be found in "What could have been" or "What should have been".  Happiness is found in taking pleasure of what there is and what you have.  Duang and I returned to Groton; both very happy.

Gregg Stradiotto, Artist

It has been a while since I last posted.  It is not to say that we have not been busy.  Caring for my elderly parents is a pretty much full time job which leaves little time for trying to be creative.  The combination of Connecticut climate and social attitudes here have presented few opportunities to use my camera so I have been focused on developing a greater knowledge and attempting to develop post processing skills utilizing Adobe Photoshop Elements software.

Last week I received an email from an artist who had come across my blog and photography galleries on the Internet.  I am always amazed at the power of the Internet to connect people from various backgrounds and from distant locations.

Gregg Stradiotto is an artist who carves "netsuke", an article used in traditional Japanese costume.  As is typical of Eastern culture, there is more than what just meets the eye with "netsuke".  There is a great deal of symbolism as well as tradition involved in the subject matter and depiction in each "netsuke".  Gregg also takes it further in some of his works by infusing some Summi (Lapland) motives.

I was very impressed with his work and in correspondence with him, I found him to be a supporter of multi-culturalism which I am also an advocate of.  http://hale-worldphotography.blogspot.com/2010/10/free-to-be-you-free-to-be-me.html

I am sharing the link to Gregg's website because I believe that you will find it interesting and informative - another part of the world that we all share but may not be aware of.

www.greggstradiotto.com

Life and Death - USA and Thailand



An Old Man Walking In Tahsang Village

In America the Federal budget disagreements continue with outrageous allegations being hurled by both sides making the possibility of compromise all that more remote.  It appears to me that the art of civil debate and social discourse has been lost to and in favor of the cheap alternatives of character assassination and the instant gratification of labeling your opponent.

Besides the strategy of "winning" an argument by out shouting those who disagree with you, the standard procedure seems to be sticking a nefarious label on those who disagree with you; with the objective being to completely discredit your opponent and diminish any of the facts that they contribute to the discussion.

Egged on by the media, the participants in our government do not seek and identify those areas where they agree or can compromise.  Rather they seek to focus on the areas where they disagree with each other and how they occupy a much higher moral ground than their opponents.  Establishing class or a racial basis to defend your position and to attack your opponent's positon seems to earn bonus points in the tawdry game being played out across this land.

A big component of US public spending is related to health care.  Medicare and the implementation of Obamacare have significant impact upon the quality of services to patients as well as the costs to taxpayers.  There has been some and undoubtedly there will be much more argument regarding the scope and costs related to these programs.

One of the great promises of the Internet, especially sites like Facebook, is the ability and opportunity for people of varying backgrounds and experiences to exchange information.  Through Facebook I am well aware that having left the USA to work and live in other countries I have developed very different views than most of the people that I grew up with.  That is OK and does not mean that they are "bad" or that I am "bad".  We just disagree - there is nothing wrong with that.  It is just a natural phenomenon of people reacting, experiencing unique lives and adapting to different environments.  Ideally we would all benefit from sharing and considering the diverse perspectives.

I am fortunate that I have friends on the Internet that I can disagree with.  The important thing is that we can communicate why we disagree and in the ensuing discussion provide information with which we can each reconsider our individual positions.  Most importantly, so far, we have been able to still respect each other. 

Recently on Facebook there was a posting of an article from the AARP which called on people to contact their representatives to vote "No" on Rep Paul Ryan's budget which according to them would "effectively end Medicare as we know it and put the health of millions of older Americans at risk."

Someone responded to the posting by stating "Along with Medicare cuts, Medicaid benefits will be denied long term nursing home care for seniors.  Middle class families as well as low income families rely on Medicaid to help them afford nursing home care for their parents ..."

I felt compelled to respond and posed the following question.  "Whatever happened to taking care of your family rather than putting them in homes?  It works in Thailand.  It used to work here."

A friend of mine pointed out the following life expectancies for Thai and American people - Thai Male - 71.4 years versus US Male - 76.08 years; Thai female - 76.08 years versus 81.5 years for US female.  My friend also made the comment that this is what happened with taking care of your family, they die earlier.

Personally I was surprised at how little difference there is in the life expectancies between Thailand and the USA.  Those of you who follow this blog may have read several entries that I have written on health care in Thailand.  In Thailand you can have world class health care if you know where to go and you are able to pay for it.  In general the sophistication of health care for the average Thai is not comparable to that available to the average American.  Facetiously I also remarked that I did not know the extent that Thai driving practices had on the lower life expectancies in Thailand.

I have written about seeing a local doctor and paying $13 for the office visit and medication that was dispensed.  Thirteen US dollars for a doctor visit and prescriptions is extremely cheap for most Americans however it is a burden for the vast majority of people in Isaan.  The ousted former Prime Minister of Thailand, Sinirat Thaksin, instituted a national health care program in Thailand for poor people.  Poor people register and receive a card from the government.  The card allows the person to pay a fee of 30 baht ($1.20 USD) for medicine.  However the program is limited only to payments for medicine and does not cover procedures, doctors, or hospitalization.  This program is one of the reasons that he remains popular with the poor people of Northeast Thailand; but that is a whole different story that I am not writing about today nor do I choose to write about.  Just as I do not appreciate foreigners telling me what we should do in our country, I will not be a foreigner telling people what they should do in their country - it just makes life easier and more pleasant for everyone.

I have been told and I have heard people tell my parents that they are very lucky to have a son like me and a daughter-in-law like Duang who will travel 8,000 miles to care for them.  It is very nice to receive such compliments but for Duang like all other children in Thailand these are very strange statements.  In Thailand children are expected and accept the responsibility to care for their older relatives in their advanced years.  Typically it is the youngest daughter who bears the responsibility but extenuating circumstances can change that.  Some grandchildren or even nieces or nephews will care for an elderly relative.  It is ingrained in the Lao Loum culture to care for the elderly.  It is the way that America cared for its elderly in the past.  It was a duty and a responsibility of the younger generations - a social compact that for many today no longer exists.

My parents often apologize for "messing up" my and Duang's life.  I tell them and I really mean it that we prefer to not be here but it is our duty as well as responsibility to take care of them.  They need us and we are capable of helping them.  We are able to ensure that they can remain in their home where they are most comfortable.  Putting them in a nursing home at this time would not improve the quality of their life in any way. As to "messing up our life" - this is our life.  Living back in the USA and taking care of my parents is not necessarily the life that we planned but it is the life that we have.  It is the life that we have to deal with as best we can.  It is a life that we still enjoy.

In the exchange over Facebook, another friend wrote "In Thailand I suspect there's a basic respect for the elderly, rather than a basic fear of being elderly that seems to permeate the stay-young-forever society we have." I very much agree with that statement.  In addition to the fear of being elderly, I believe that in America, the elderly are considered somewhat of an embarrassment and I suspect that for some people they are too painful reminders of the fate that awaits all of us.  In our materialistic society there is not much value in being old. Other than medical care we are not great consumers of goods and services.  We also do not pay a high amount of income taxes or contribute to payroll deductions such as Unemployment Insurance, Social Security Hospitalization Insurance, or Social Security Old Age programs.  To the contary we are consumers of the government entitlement programs.

In Isaan caring for elderly has religious conotations.  A person earns merit in the Buddhist religion by caring for those who can not care for themselves.  Earning merit in this lifetime assists a person to return in a higher status in their next life.

No matter the case of how we consider the old, the fact remains that:

Funeral Rites In Isaan

We will all die some day of something.

The only speculation exists is how we will die and when we will die.

When I contemplate life and death issues, be it in Isaan or the USA, I am often reminded of a wonderful quote from National Geographic contributor, Wade Davis, a renowned Canadian Anthropologist.  In his documentary series "Light At the End of the World" regarding the Buddhist attitude towards death ... "The Buddhists spend all their lives getting ready for a moment that we spend most of our lives pretending does not exist, which is the moment of our death".

In Isaan death is a milestone of life which is familiar to and accepted by all people from a very early age. The conclusion of this life, which for many has been very difficult, presents the hope as well as opportunity for a better and easier life in the future - another step towards eventual enlightenment.

As I witness the pain and suffering of people in the USA as they artificially struggle to delay the inevitable, I have pause to contemplate the best way to live and die.

In Isaan, death comes quicker and sooner due to a lack of money and facilities. Yes the expectancies show that; roughly five years sooner than in the USA.

However as I shared with my Facebook friends, in Thailand it is not about how long that you live; it is about how you live which really matters.

At what point should we allow ourselves or others to let go and conclude the suffering?

If a person wants to spend their money in a futile attempt to attain immortality, it is none of my business.  However if public funds, my tax dollars, are going to be spent in this quixotic quest to avoid death then I am involved by default.

There were allegations last year regarding Obamacare establishing "Death Panels".  I do not want a panel of bureaucrats determining what procedures and medicines that I will receive.  I want the freedom to determine what the extent of my healthcare will be even if it means that I may not receive certain procedures because I can not afford them.  However the practical determination of how public funds are to be spent is entirely justified and in my opinion - expected and a duty.

However if public funds are to be used to finance anyone's health care, I think that it is entirely reasonable to have limits upon procedures and medications dependent upon one's circumstances.  What may be deemed appropriate to save the life of a 35 year old person may not be calculated to be appropriate for a 90 year old person. To me it does not make financial sense to pay $93,000 for a new drug treatment regimen for prostate cancer that extends the life expectancy of a man by 4 months versus chemotherapy which extends it by 2 months.


Is it the best use of Medicare or other public funds to pay for colonoscopy examinations of 87 year old people? 

Discussing who should receive what treatments is repulsive, distasteful and best left to the people directly involved - the patient and the physician.  However when the treatments are paid for by public funds, that discussion needs to take place in a more public forum and especially from the perspective of what is best for the overall collective good.  It is dirty and nasty to boil a person's future down to actuary tables and calculated value, but this is what we invite when we subbrogate our freedom of health choices to the government.

People die 5 years younger in Thailand than in the USA but at what cost do Americans live those five extra years.  More importantly, what is the quality of those five extra years that Americans live?

We are all going to die of something some day; there is no denying or escaping this fate.

I would rather die earlier and be happy at the time of my death than to live longer and either be miserable or suffer for the additional years. 

How you choose to live out your final years is up to you ... until, in my opinion,  your choices are paid for with public funds.  At that time your choices no longer become strictly yours.

As I was taught - You can have anything that you want as long as YOU can pay for it.  When you expect others to pay your bills, you give up a great deal of your freedom.

A true indication of how mature and sophisticated a society we are will be demonstrated in how the issues of personal freedoms, personal responsibilities, social responsibities, ethics, morality, accountability and common sense are resolved in regards to health care in America.



Two Souls Departing In Isaan



Inspiration and Encouragement

"Duangchan and Family Planting Rice"

Often we are not aware or at least most likely to not fully appreciate the influence that we have upon others.  We go about our lives doing what pleases us or perhaps doing what we believe is expected of us.  Most likely our power and ability to inspire and to encourage others is not a factor especially in our day to day relationships with people outside of our immediate family and close circle of friends.  However we have the ability to influence people far removed from our intimate circle of people.

We can influence others in sharing our knowledge, our experiences, our opinions, offering feedback and by our actions.

I have been toying around but not entirely focused on developing a photo exposition of some of my work.  I have gotten to the point where I had decided upon a central theme; "Bent At The Waist, A Photography Exhibit of Lao Loum Rice Cultivation in Isaan", selected the photographs, developed a book specific to the exposition, and purchased 15 of the planned 18 mounted prints to be exhibited.  I had researched and developed a framing scheme for the selected works but I had held off purchasing the mats and frames.

"Duangchan and Family Planting Rice"

"Isaan Pas de Deux"

As part of developing the photography exposition I had posted a couple of the selected photos on the photo.net website for grading and critiques in the "Documentary" category.  A couple people indicated that they would be interested in seeing black and white versions of the submitted photographs.

Some people consider that documentary photography must only be in Black and White.  I consider my work to be documentary style photography in that my goal is to capture a real and true moment at a specific time; sort of like "If you had been there then, this what you could or should have seen".  As such, there is very little posing, imposed direction, or post process manipulation in my photographs.  However I do prefer to work in color for no other reason than the fact that color, to me, more accurately and more completely captures the specific moment.

I took the comments of the other photographers seriously and resubmitted the photographs in Black and White versions.  Surprisingly to me, the B&W versions of the photographs received about a 10% higher rating than the original color submittals.  I find the predisposition of people to prefer B&W for documentary photography interesting but not sufficient for me to alter my style.  However the book for my planned photography exposition will have Black and White versions of the selected photographs for the "purists".

Yesterday, almost one month after submitting a B&W version, I was inspired and encouraged by a person well outside of my family and friends.  My inspiration and motivation came from a person that I had never met, spoken to, or written to.  I was only familiar with his work from the photography website that I participate in, http://www.photo.net/.

Jon Peri is a prolific photographer based in Paris who specializes in portraits and nudes.  I have become very familiar with his work through Photo.net and greatly admire his photographs.  It is not that I want my photographs to look like his but that I appreciate the beauty, style, and the quality of his work.   His style is very distinctive which is a trait, which I believe, that every true artist strives for.

John took the time to critique the B&W version of  "Duangchan and Family Planting Rice" - "An expressive work, very well composed. The shadows reinforce the image well and I like your choice of black and white also, bravo."

I have received encouragement from family and friends in the past regarding my photography but in the case of family and friends, you never are comfortable with the motivation behind the praise and encouragement.  The perception that there is a need to protect or shield a person from disappointment often leads to false or at least slanted evaluations.  This is not to say that praise and encouragement from family and friends is not appreciated or welcomed.  It is just that often the basis and credibility of their feedback can be suspect.

Receiving feedback from a stranger may not be always as palatable as that from an acquaintance but it is more likely to be more honest.

Receiving positive feedback from a person who is a professional with a great deal of experience is also inspiring and encouraging.

I am now motivated to proceed with developing the photography exposition "Bent At The Waist, A Photography Exhibit of Lao Loum Rice Cultivation in Isaan" and bring it to a conclusion.  Now that I have shared this plan should also help to keep me motivated.

We all have knowledge, experience, and opens that if honestly shared can provide inspiration as well as encouragement.

Lately I have been dealing a great deal with the Veterans Administration, "VA", regarding medical benefits for my father.  I had read so many horror stories about the VA facilities and VA treatment of people that I was shocked at what we actually experienced.  The VA facilities that my Dad and I visit in New London and New Haven are first rate.  The VA people could not be any better - they are helpful, polite, competent, and seem to genuinely carry for their clients. So far we have not had to wait a minute beyond our appointment time to see a VA doctor.  The VA is telling my Dad all the things such as eyeglasses and hearing aid that he can get through them and they follow up on arranging for him to receive them.   I am extremely impressed and I have only one regret - I do not qualify for VA medical care.  My Dad and I make it a point to always let the VA people know how much we appreciate their work and what a good job that they are doing.

It is important to provide positive feedback to those around us.  It is just as important as negative feedback or complaining.

Positive feedback encourages good behaviors and reinforces our expectations of others.

Positive feedback can be inspiring as well as encouraging; a gift that costs nothing.

Positive feedback is another way that we have influence over those around us; influence to make a better environment for everyone.

It's Not the Same - Somethings are not the way they used to be

On occasion I have written about Duang's impressions on living in America as opposed to living back in Isaan.

The main focus of this blog, "Allen's World", until I returned to the United States two months ago was to share experiences and observations of an America expat living in foreign cultures.

Today I am writing about one of my impressions of  living back in my childhood home.

Last week, Mom pulled out a bag where she keeps the household loose change.  I immediately recognized the bag - it is the old canvas bank bag from Hartford National Bank and Trust Company, that I used when I was a newspaper boy for the "New London Day" newspaper.

Back in the late 1950s and up to mid 1960s, I was a newspaper carrier for the local newspaper.  The newspaper is still in existence and my parents still have it delivered to the house.  But so much has changed.

When I delivered the newspaper, customers paid $0.30 a week from which I received $0.08 a customer per week.  Most people gave me $0.05 a week in addition as a tip.  A couple people, my favorite customers, gave me $0.50 a week - a $0.20 tip; more than enough to buy a comic book!

Shortly after returning home from school, a small vehicle similar to a milk home delivery truck would stop at our house and throw out a bundle of newspapers.  I would collect the papers, count them to ensure that I had enough for my customers, and put them into my newspaper canvas shoulder bag.  I would then set off to deliver the papers around my neighborhood.  The afternoon newspaper was distributed throughout the area through a network of newspaper boys and girls.  I actually purchased my route from a family of girls who had lost interest.

Once a month, on a Saturday morning, the representative of the newspaper would come to my parent's home.  He would check my records and collect the money that was due the company.  Newspaper carriers had small ledger books where we listed our customers and kept track of their payments.  We did not track how much that they paid.  We merely filled in the box associated with their name and appropriate Friday date to indicate that they had paid.  The company representative was also a source of information about other routes that were available to be purchased.  I bought some routes and expanded my customer base over the years.  The representative, an honest broker, was able to put buyers and sellers together.  A few times a year the representative informed us of special events for the newspaper carriers - free "Newspaper Boy Picnic" at Ocean Beach Park, free tickets to a swim show at Waterford Speedway, and free tickets to some body's "Hurricane Hellcat Stunt Driving Show".  If necessary the representative would also review and discuss any complaints that the company had received regarding our service to our customers.  We were expected to keep our customers satisfied and we were held accountable for their satisfaction.

We were expected to deliver all of our newspapers by 4:30 P.M.  There were many days that I delivered newspapers in the rain and the coldest that I remember delivering papers was -3F (-16C).  Three weeks ago, I answered a call from the newspaper explaining that the paper would be delivered late because of "distribution problems due to the weather."  The night before had produced abot 1/4" of ice and snow on the roads.  But this blog is not about "reminisces by an "old" man of walking 3 miles to school in the snow when I was your age"  This blog is about change and some of what we have lost today.

I have written a few times about lessons that I have learned from my parents with the biggest lessons learned being "I could have anything that I wanted ... as long as I had the money to pay for it" and "If you want something bad enough, you will work for it and if you don't want to work for it, you don't need it".  These were great lessons to learn.  These were lessons that could be learned and most importantly, APPRECIATED, because I earned money as a paperboy.

What made me think about being a paperboy, or I guess today's more politically correct term "newspaper carrier", besides seeing my old money bag was receiving a phone call the other day from the newspaper.  No, they were not trying to get me back to deliver the newspapers for them.  It was an automated notice to subscribers that the cost of an eight week subscription was going up $0.64 due to increased fuel costs.

My parents like all other subscribers no longer pay weekly to a newspaper carrier.  They no longer pay for the newspapers that they had received.  Today people receive a bill in the mail for the newspapers that they will be receiving.  My parents send a check by mail to the newspaper and neither speak or even know who delivers their newspaper.

Today the newspaper is placed in a special plastic receptacle on the front steps of a home rather than placed between the storm door and door of the house.

Today most newspapers are delivered by someone who drives a car.

Today there are not 4th or 5th grade school children, that I am aware of, starting out in business by walking their neighborhoods delivering papers.

I view this as a great loss - a loss for the children as well as a loss for our society.

Back in the "old days" a child's first business experience typically came as a "newspaper carrier".  We learned the necessity of being organized and disciplined.  We learned the world would hold us accountable and responsible for our actions.  We started to develop the required skills to deal with people in an environment outside of our immediate family - the real world.  At an early age, newspaper carriers learned the value of maintaining accurate records, the importance of budgeting, the value of good manners, and the need to maintain good customer relations.

I learned all the above as a young paperboy long ago.  These were lessons that have served me all my life and I value up to this day.  Besides the invaluable lessons that I learned, being a newspaper boy allowed my to be more independent and to exercise my independence.   With the money that I earned and saved from my paper route, I was free to buy the things that I wanted.

To this day one of my fondest memories is saving up my earnings, going to Sears and Roebuck Store and buying an umbrella tent for $17.95.  There was a strong sense of pride and accomplishment in setting a goal, working towards the goal, and accomplishing the goal.  It was MINE.  I had EARNED it.

When I was unable to deliver newspapers, I made arrangements with my sister to deliver the papers for me.  I paid her for her time but being a young capitalist, I did not pay her 100% of my prorated profits for the day. I recognized that it was my and my responsibility alone to ensure that my customers got their newspaper despite my problems, issues, or choices for that day.  In the end it was good for her and good for me.  In the end it was negogiated between us.

Today I see very few children outside.  I do not see any children learning life and business lessons by delivering newspapers.

Today I perceive that there is a great deal of fear and concerns especially related to children.  Imagine having children today walking in the rain, walking in the snow, walking in the cold to deliver newspapers to houses and inside of apartment buildings.  Imagine of all the possibilities of what could happen to them. I suspect that too many people are imagining too many things.  In one of my favorite Ian Tyson songs he sings "Wishing don't make it so"  To paraphrase I say and may be after a couple of beers I wiould sing "Imagining doesn't make it true".  Today in my home town, I see parents picking up children at bus stops to drive them four or less blocks to their home.  Today there seems to be a great deal of fear for the safety of children.

Fear can be a cruel prison that we are often too willing confine ourselves to.  Fear can take away our freedom to grow, to experience, and to be happy.  Yes, there are issues related to children's safety, but the facts indicate that these are more concerns than they need to be fears.

In the days when we carried newspapers, we had fears - we were afraid that Russian planes would fly over us and drop atomic bombs.  But we were prepared - we practised ducking underneath our school desks when the air raid sirens went off.  I also knew that if an atomic bomb went off while I was outside that I should jump into and lay flat in a ditch.  It is all so funny now to think back at our "safety plans" for atomic attacks, but these plans allowed us to move on with our lives.  Moving on with our life is very important.  We only have a few years on this earth and much less time to prepare to fully experience and enjoy our time.

As children we were made aware that there were "bad" people who did "bad" things to people.  However we were also taught what to look out for and how we could avoid the "bad" people and situations where we could be hurt. While we were made aware of the concerns we were also empowered and given a sense of control for our well being when our parents or police were not around.  As we became older we recognized and accepted our responsibility to watch over the younger children that attended our school and walked home along our route; just as the older kids had done for us.

Today my perception is that children here are held back from developing into responsible, accountable, and content individuals - a sort of arrested development.  They are not expected, allowed or even given the tools or skills to solve their interpersonal problems.  They are not expected to entertain themselves.  They are held less accountable and responsible for their actions.  Many adults are too involved in the minor trials and tribulations of growing up.  The children are often shielded from the realities of life that they will undoubtedly encounter some day.  They will face the realities and challenges less prepared than they could be.

Sadly they have less opportunities to learn at an early age the lessons of owning and operating their own business albeit just a paper route.  They are denied the opportunity to take the first steps of financial independence and self reliance.

It's not the same - somethings are not the way they used to be; not in far away Isaan but here in my home town, my home state, and my home country.  Perhaps it may not seem to matter, but children in other countries, our competitors in the world market and power stage, are not growing up this way.  It is with these people that our children, as adults in their world, will have to compete and deal with.