Link: http://foapom.com/

As I was sitting in the cool air, waiting for the 2010 Pageant of the Masters to begin, I felt at peace with the world.

I watched the wealthy and artistic of the world filing in around me, and I was appreciative.

Appreciative until the performance began. Then I was blown away.

My wife, Susan, commented to me, "I think this might be the best ever."

I am in no position to pass such judgments. We have only lived in this area for ten years. But from where I sat, I had never seen or experienced anything like it.

The Pageant of the Masters has become a true multimedia experience. As the flawless orchestra struck each note, reproduced in perfect stereo surrounding me, photos and videos transported me on a journey to incredible living reproductions of famous oils, watercolors, sculptures and castings. This year we even were treated to a Mardi Gras parade and salute to New Orleans!

And I really came to appreciate narrator Skip Connover.

But I am not going to tell you any more.

Go.

If you went last year, go.

If you go every year, go.

If you have never been, go.

And let me know if it is the best ever.

Learn more here: http://foapom.com.

What better way to celebrate and gain a perspective of the July 4th celebration than to read this John Adams’ letter to his daughter, Abigail Adams 2nd, on July 5, 1777. Since protocols have changed since then, no words or grammar have been “corrected”.

Philadelphia, July 5th, 1777

My Dear Daughter,

Yesterday, being the anniversary of American Independence, was celebrated here with a festivity and ceremony becoming the occasion. I am too old to delight in pretty descriptions, if I had a talent for them, otherwise a picture might be drawn, which would please the fancy of a Whig, at least.

The thought of taking any notice of this day, was not conceived, until the second of this month, and it was not mentioned until the third. It was too late to have a sermon, as every one wished, so this must be deferred another year.
Congress determined to adjourn over that day, and to dine together. The general officers and others in town were invited, after the President and Council, and Board of War of this State.
In the morning the Delaware frigate, several large gallies, and other continental armed vessels, the Pennsylvania ship and row gallies and guard boats, were hawled off in the river, and several of them beautifully dressed in the colours of all nations, displayed about upon the masts, yards, and rigging. At one o’clock the ships were all manned, that is, the men were all ordered aloft, and arranged upon the tops, yards, and shrouds, making a striking appearance of companies of men drawn up in order in the air.

Then I went on board the Delaware, with the President and several gentlemen of the Marine Committee, soon after which we were saluted with a discharge of thirteen guns, which was followed by thirteen others, from each other armed vessel in the river; then the gallies followed the fire, and after them the guard boats.

Then the President and company returned in the barge to the shore, and were saluted with three cheers, from every ship, galley, and boat in the river. The wharves and shores, were lined with a vast concourse of people, all shouting and huzzaing, in a manner which gave great joy to every friend to this country, and the utmost terror and dismay to every lurking tory.

At three we went to dinner, and were very agreeably entertained with excellent company, good cheer, fine music from the band of Hessians taken at Trenton, and continual vollies between every toast, from a company of soldiers drawn up in Second-street before the city tavern, where we dined. The toasts were in honour of our country, and the heroes who have fallen in their pious efforts to defend her.

After this, two troops of light-horse, raised in Maryland, accidentally here in their way to camp, were paraded through Second-street, after them a train of artillery, and then about a thousand infantry, now in this city on their march to camp, from North Carolina. All marched into the common, where they went through their firings and manoeuvres; but I did not follow them.

In the evening, I was walking about the streets for a little fresh air and exercise, and was surprised to find the whole city lighting up their candles at the windows. I walked most of the evening, and I think it was the most splendid illumination I ever saw; a few houses were dark; but the lights were very universal.

Considering the lateness of the design and the suddenness of the execution, I was amazed at the universal joy and alacrity that was discovered, and at the brilliancy and splendour of every part of this joyful exhibition. I had forgot the ringing of bells all day and evening, and the bonfires in the streets, and the fireworks played off. Had the English General Howe been here in disguise, or his master, this show would have given them the heart-ache.

Happy Independence Day, one and all!

I am your affectionate father,
John Adams

Note…On July 4, 1826 both Thomas Jefferson & John Adams died

Poultry perspective
By: Yvonne Vizzier Thaxton

Local vs. Imported Food

(The views and opinions expressed in this blog are strictly those of the author.)

Both of my parents grew up in farming families. They grew up with organic free range animals and crops because there was no alternative. While, neither of them became farmers many of their relatives stayed on the family farms and eventually became large scale farmers as technology evolved. One uncle founded a large dairy and others were successful growing row crops for frozen food or cotton and soybeans. Several of my cousins are farmers but most left the farm for college and careers outside of agriculture.

The cousins that took new paths were able to do that because their families could afford it and they were not needed as labor on the farms. Modern equipment has eased the amount of grueling work required on our farms making it easier to produce more food. Food production is the goal of these large scale farmers. They are business men and women who use computers, radio frequency indicators (RFID), global positioning systems (GPS), wireless internet, cell phones as well as chemical fertilizers. They also use manure from theirs or other local farmers' animals for their pastures and gardens. These people are as profitable as they can be so that they can support their families and continue to produce food for those of us living in town who find our food at the grocery store or farmers market.

While I buy locally grown produce when it is available, I am delighted to have a wider variety of frozen and canned products grown in other parts of the country available all year. I want to continue to buy U. S. grown food and am avoiding imported products that compete with U. S. crops. Lately I've found more imported fish and less U.S. grown or caught. Check out the fresh fruit labels and you'll find more than bananas imported. As a result of well intended regulation and negative pressure from various groups, farmers are losing their incentive. I wonder how long before we start to see the same phenomenon in poultry, pork and beef. It may be much sooner than you think.

June 01, 2010

Chef’s Table
By: Michael Formichella

Pig roasts -- finger lickin' good

(The views and opinions expressed in this blog are strictly those of the author.)

Need to feed a ton of hungry guests? Have a lot of time to kill? There's something wonderful about the look, smell and flavors of a perfectly roasted pig. This primeval ritual produces some of the best, most exquisite flavors of moist meat. The lacquered crackle has a distinct crunch to melt in your mouth morsels melded with hints of juicy fat. There's nothing quite like it!

Now there are many ways to do this, several of which I have personally used. While living in the Hawaiian Islands we (the hotel) dug a pit and did it the traditional Hawaiian method with palm leaves, hot rocks and coals then buried. I've used the large black steel drum like cookers on a spit, with various types of woods to impart distinctive flavor and a large rotating bakery deck oven. All methods gave a great result.

I would be remiss if I didn't discuss the pre-cooking preparation. One of my favorites is cracked, butcher-ground course black pepper and chopped fresh garlic blended with lots of citrus and fresh herbs. Right before cooking add a healthy handful of sea salt and rub it all over and inside the carcass. These preparations done a day before the actual roast gives the meat such a great flavor.

I was at a pig roast last week. Both pigs were roasted for about twelve hours at a very low level of heat. What a treat! Truly the highlight of the day was that one of the pigs had been prepared Italian style, commonly known as Porchetta, originating from central Italy around Rome. The animal was fully deboned and layered with a stuffing of meat, fat, and skin, rolled and tied on a spit and roasted. Porchetta is usually also salted with a blend or paste of ground fresh garlic, fennel, rosemary and fresh herbs.

Have you ever eaten Porchetta? I highly recommend it! We want to know your best roast pig story. Share with us your favorite recipes for rubs, sauces or special blends! Pigging out is great fun. If you haven't tried it, you should make a point of trying it out for yourself.

Working Safely
By: Steve Sayer

Food defense: are you ready?

(The views and opinions expressed in this blog are strictly those of the author.)
Later this year the USDA will issue another food defense survey to determine how many meat and poultry establishments have voluntary food defense programs in place and whether or not to make them mandatory.

A preceding survey taken in late 2009 evinced that roughly 60 percent of USDA inspected establishments had voluntary food defense programs up and running. If the impending survey determines that less than 90 percent of meat and poultry establishments have a voluntary food defense program in place, then the USDA will begin the rulemaking process to make food defense programs mandatory.

Actually, there is a regulatory arm of USDA that already requires a written and verifiable food defense program; the livestock and seed commodity procurement branch or better known as the national school lunch program. This mandatory and progressive food defense precondition may prove to be a harbinger of things to come for all meat and poultry establishments.

The Agricultural Marketing Service procures various products for school lunch and other domestic food nutrition programs. Since 2004/2005, AMS has required all contractors and subcontractors to have a written food defense plan that provides for the security of each plant's production processes, their storage and transportation of pre-production raw materials and post-production finished products.

Each plant's food defense program is audited ensure the following areas are in compliance:

1. Food defense management
2. Interior and exterior security of production and storage facilities
3. Slaughter and processing, including raw materials
4. Shipping and receiving
5. Controlled access to production and storage areas
6. Storage
7. Water and ice supply
8. Mail handling
9. Transportation, shipping and receiving

USDA has continued to take the initiative towards food defense by informing and educating industry and the general public through nation-wide workshops, plant defense checklists, model security plans, transportation guidelines and the askFSIS Web site.

Establishments that already have a voluntary food defense program up and running have taken the pro-active approach towards protecting their businesses, employees, products and ultimate welfare of their customers.

What's your position regarding food defense?

A June Event- Jefferson’s Escape

It was in June of 1781 that Thomas Jefferson narrowly escaped being captured by British forces at Monticello. At the start of that year led by traitor-turncoat, Benedict Arnold, British troops raided farms and villages along the James River. By May, Arnold’s troops had joined a larger British force under Lord Cornwallis that had moved into Virginia from the south. This invading army would frighten the Virginia government into abandoning Richmond, and create turmoil before ultimately surrendering to the combined French and American forces at Yorktown.

Action by an heroic Virginian prevented the British capture of Jefferson, then Virginia’s governor, and members of the Virginia Assembly. That hero was John “Jack” Jouett, Jr., a 26-year-old resident of Charlottesville near Jefferson’s Monticello.

Upon learning that Virginia’s legislature was reconvening in Charlottesville after the Colnial defeat in Richmond, Cornwallis dispatched Lt. Col. Banastre Tarleton to capture the governor and assemblymen. Hoping to catch the Virginians by surprise, Tarleton traveled swiftly, mostly at night. He pushed hard before stopping to rest men and horses somewhere in the vicinity of the Louisa Court House (some 30 miles from Monticello) on the evening of June 3. It was there that Jouett, whose family farm was nearby, observed the British and surmised what their destination was.

According to Jefferson’s account, Jouett, a captain in the 16th Virginia militia regiment and who knew every nook and cranny of the area, was able to bypass the enemy’s encampment, ride all night, and before sunrise of the next day (June 4) arrive at Monticello to warn Jefferson.

Jefferson calmly ordered a carriage for his family and offered breakfast to the members of the legislature who were staying at Monticello. He sent his family to at a neighboring farm but remaining behind it is believed to gather needed papers, he received a second warning from a neighbor, a Christopher Hudson, that British troops were ascending Monticello Mountain. Hudson related that he found Jefferson “perfectly tranquil, and undisturbed”, but urged him to leave immediately. According to Hudson, Monticello was surrounded “in ten minutes at farthest by a troop of light-horse.” Jefferson later described how he avoided the main road and traveled through the woods to join his family.

Tarleton did not remain long in Charlottesville. While he captured seven legislators, the rest of them escaped across the Blue Ridge Mountains to the town of Staunton. Meanwhile, believing his term as governor had expired, Jefferson escorted his family to safety at their farm, Poplar Forest, near Lynchburg, and remained there until the middle of the summer.

The members of the General Assembly reconvened in Staunton. While they voted Jouett a pair of pistols and a sword as symbols of gratitude, a proposal was put forth for an inquiry into Jefferson’s actions. In spite of the inquiry being dropped, Jefferson insisted on appearing before the Assembly members to respond to charges of mishandling his duties and abandoning leadership at a critical moment. He reported that he had believed it understood that he was leaving office and that he had discussed with other legislators the advantages of commander of the state militia, Gen. Thomas Nelson’s being appointed governor. He stated that he felt “unprepared for the command of armies” and that given the critical conditions, “the union of the civil and military power in the same hands, at this time would greatly facilitate military measures.” Nelson was named Jefferson’s successor later in June, and effectively carried out his duties – both civil and military - through the end of the war.

The events surrounding the British invasion of Virginia would be a recurring problem for Jefferson. In subsequent national elections, virulent Federalist newspapers and political opponents would accuse him of incompetence, negligence, and even cowardice in his handling of the governorship during the events of 1781. For the rest of his life he found himself responding to these accusations, and strived to assure that his place in the country’s history would not be marred by them.

As for Jack Jouett, he did not receive his award, the promised pistols and sword, until several years later. Though sometimes referred to as the “Paul Revere of the South,” he never gained the widespread fame given Revere by Longfellow’s poem. I guess:

“Listen my children and you shall get
The midnight ride of Jack Jouet”.

doesn’t quite make it.

Arnie Silverman
Laguna Niguel

It occurred to me that while I have written about my father, I cannot recall writing anything other than brief references about my mother. That thought came to me as I looked at a wedding photograph of the two of them, Rose and Lou Silverman. Now, my father is standing there in his sartorial best with a bemused, “make sure you get my best side” look on his face. My dear mother, however, standing in her wedding gown at 5 ft if that high, has her “I’m the one who is going to be running the show” look in her eyes.

And, as I think about my years in that household, that’s the way it was. I have to tell you as loving and caring as she was, she was one hell of a feisty, tough woman. I mean she pushed him out of the door each morning with a dictum that he get his rear end in productive mode and bring home the bucks. While he never achieved the financial success she craved, he did, as far as I could tell, the best that he could do.

He sold insurance and managed what they called a debit (a territory today) for the Metropolitan Insurance Company. Each week when he brought home his earnings, she would inquire how the other salesmen did that week. When she would hear that one of their friends and fellow Met salesman earned more than he, she would berate him and insist that he do better. “You’re better than Charlie Becker!” she would scold. I cannot tell you how many times I heard that angry lament. She had a favorite Yiddish insult she used on him that went something like “Ne mein amisha meshunnah!” whatever the hell that means.

That said, however, she loved and made a comfortable home for him and my brother and me. In that regard, she also pushed us two siblings to excel in whatever we did. I remember once when my brother, Stanley’s report card was not up to her expectations, she unmercifully went after him with a leather belt. Now I know that is properly frowned on today, but his grades never suffered after that (nor did mine come to think of it).

She was a bright woman. In today’s world with all of the opportunities available to young woman, I believe she could have been anything she wanted to be. An avid reader, she favored murder mysteries. She listened to all of the detective series – The Shadow, Bulldog Drummond, Perry Mason, and the rests – then playing on the radio. And when a Chester Morris Boston Blackie movie hit the local circuit, you could bet on her seeing it. I recall also that she was particularly adept at crossword puzzles, and when she was deep into one, you did not want to make unnecessary noises.

She ran a tight household with a tighter budget. Remember this was the height or should I say depth of the Great Depression in the mid thirties. When Lou had a bad week, and brought home less earnings, though she did not let him off the hook, we never lacked a solid meal, sufficient clothes and, of course, the proverbial roof over our heads. If he had a continuing run of bad weeks, she would find work as a sales clerk at a Hecht’s Department Store in D.C.

She had to return to that job quite often because my father had somewhat of an addiction to the ponies; particularly those running at Pimlico. I surmise that feeling in those years that that was his only way of making a score, he wagered either any spare funds he had at the end of the week, or if a “sure-to-win” tip came his way, some of the insurance premiums he had collected on his debit. Unfortunately, he had a particular penchant for losers, and my mother would have to earn a few bucks to make up the difference. How he manipulated his weekly reports to hide a deficit I do not know, but with her “bailouts” he managed to pull it off for years.

While not fervent, she practiced her faith. She attended our local synagogue on the so-called high holy days, and bringing out her Passover-only eating-ware, she would have a Seder or Passover service each year. What amused me, however, was that she loved a Virginia ham steak, and as if it were a ritual, each year a few days after the Passover holiday ended, she would prepare and serve an Hawaiian-style, ham steak. In later years I questioned if this was some kind of protest or an expression of independence. Both my brother and I were cajoled into attending the Katzenjammer-like Hebrew schools that led ultimately to our respective bar mitzvahs. On reflection, I guess she was as religious as most at that time.

Personality-wise, she was not the openly gregarious, warm, friendly person my father was. Always observant, she could be acerbic in her opinions and criticisms. Though not vindictive, she was not the kind of person with whom people felt comfortable and attached. That said, she had a pretty large circle of women with whom she played bridge and Mah Jong. Regarding the latter, she did not like to lose. I was once told that she was an intelligent, tough player who would go for your throat if you gave her an opening.

There are several humorous family legends (I believe all true) related to her, such as when she was fairly on in years, my brother tried to give her a driving lesson. Unnerved to the point of panic as, driving so far to the right, she barely missed parked cars by a whisker, he switched the lesson to parking in an empty lot only to have her end up plowing into a snow bank (her first and last lesson incidentally). Or, though she was a excellent baker and cook, she would prepare her meals to an intense heat. We used to joke that her mashed potatoes were still hot a week later.

Regarding her proclivity for very hot food, it is said that once when they were heading up to the Catskills on the old and often jammed Route 17, the folks stopped at a then popular spot called The Red Apple Rest for a hotdog. We suspect she may have been the only person ever to return a just grilled hotdog back over the counter (along with some kind of caustic comment) because it was not hot enough for her.

She was always there for my brother and me. If we were ill, she was there. If we had school lesson difficulties, she was there. If we truly needed something, she somehow found the funds or means to get it. And if we “broke the rules”, believe me she was there! When we moved to Jersey City from D.C., she agreed to let older brother, Stan stay with friends in D.C. to graduate from Roosevelt High there. While that did not work out, it turned out OK for him, for in his graduation year at Dickinson High in Jersey City, he met Arlyn, his great life partner. I also remember when in high school and my father insisted that I get some kind of part time job instead of going out for the football team, she “persuaded” him to let me play ball. And when I was drafted and at Camp Kilmer awaiting assignment, she travelled the difficult journey by train and 2 busses each week just to visit me for a few hours.

When it came to family, she was very supportive and protective. She maintained contact with her brother and sister and most of her close relatives, and when we visited Jersey City yearly, tried to see them all. Later on when Stan and I had our own families, while seldom demonstratively complimentary, she had enormous pride in her grandchildren. Often short of finances, instead of buying them things she would lovingly knit various items for them.

She had compassion for those in need and contributed what she could to all kinds of charities (she kept a loose change can or what she called a “pushka” for such purposes). I remember going with her one day to visit Flora, a Black woman who helped her sporadically with housework when she was working at the Department store. Flora lived in one of the poorest of Black areas of D.C. (remember Washington was a Jim Crowe town in those years). A widow with no family near her, she was recovering from Pneumonia. That day and as often as she could Rose Silverman made here way into that destitute neighborhood with whatever food she could share. I’m sure there were others, but Flora was the one I remember.

When we moved to Jersey City, not much changed. My father, his minor “investments” at last discovered by Met auditors in 1941, was encouraged to seek another position elsewhere. That being the year of our entry into the war, with young men being herded into service, he was able to quickly get hired, only this time in Jersey City. Again near her side of the family, and with familiar neighborhoods and old friends, my mother quickly adapted, and settled in.

The years moved on, and in time they moved into a comfortable senior apartment building in East Orange, NJ. As she got into her 70’s, her body started to break down and as her vital organs failed, so did she. Incidentally, an amazing metamorphosis occurred during those latter years. Lou Silverman, who it was alleged could not boil a cup of water, assumed care of her. He bathed and dressed, fed and managed her medicines until the end. Needless to say she fought like hell until that end; she did not go gentle into that dark night.

I guess as I think about it now, I never really knew the core essence of her. Outside of my father’s making a good living, my brother and I and our progeny achieving some measure of success, her keeping a clean and comfortable home and all of us having the best of health, I don’t really know what other passions she had. In those years, of course, having a family and being a good wife and mother were sufficient goals for women like her. Still a male favoring society, expectations could be limited to having and caring for a family. I suspect that while she was content with this, there was a rage within her for something else. What it wasI will never know. She was a woman of her time…devoted to family, giving, protective, proud and above all, a survivor. I miss her.

Arnie Silverman
Laguna Niguel

Link: http://www.veggiekitchen.org

You can see our cooking videos on our own website, www.VeggieKitchen.org, and now on www.alisolagunanews.com.

This video shows how to make the best tasting Vegetarian Tofu Fajitas. Quick and Easy Vegan Recipes. Tofu Fajitas are great to eat and fun to cook! Enjoy!

The Veggie Kitchen offers the best Vegan and Vegetarian recipes just like this great recipe for Vegetarian Garbonzo Bean Sandwich Spread. We hope you enjoy it!

Moderation is a great word

Jack Lalanne, for those of you that might not know of him, is one of the original exercise promoters who swam ocean and harbors, lifted weights, and is a pioneering nutritional expert as well as a business entrepreneur.

In 1951, Jack had a local TV show in San Francisco back when TV was broadcasted in only black and white. In 1959 his show went nationwide with his co-star German Sheppard “Happy,” his faithful sidekick, as an organ played way way high and then way way low whenever Jack inhaled and exhaled following an exercise.

Born in 1914, Jack was the son of French immigrants. As a child, Jack was addicted to junk food, had temper outbursts and was a rabble-rouser on the streets of San Francisco. When he was a teenager he heard on the radio the advantages of exercising and nutrition. That message was so appealing that the little rascal began focusing his life on nutrition and exercising.

Jack began running, swimming and lifting weights that eventually led to one of the first franchise health spas that were named after him, which ultimately became known today as Bally’s. He designed weight-lifting equipment, whose engineering designs are still in use today. Early on he encouraged women to lift weights even though it was alleged at the time that they would wind up looking like today’s California Governor.

Some of Jacks exploits were second to none; at age 40 Jack swam the entire span of the Golden Gate Bridge, underwater mind you, with 140 pounds of equipment. At age 42 and then again at 60 he swam from Alcatraz Island to Fisherman’s wharf while handcuffed. To celebrate the United States Bicentennial in 1976, he swam the Long Beach Harbor, handcuffed and shackled, as he towed 13 boats that represented the original 13 colonies with 76 people hanging on for dear life inside the boats.

Again handcuffed and shackled, he swam 1 1/2 miles towing 70 boats with 70 people from the Queens Way Bridge in the Long Beach Harbor to the Queen Mary. Why 70 people on 70 boats? He was just celebrating his 70th birthday. One day in 2002, he and Johnny Grant met in Hollywood as he was awarded a star on Hollywood boulevard.

There were two aphorisms by Jack that always stuck with me over the years. When talking about the allure of eating something that isn’t good for you he once remarked. “... Is it really worth those 5 seconds of chewing and tasting just prior to swallowing?” His most classical statement was when he was being interviewed on a morning talk show claiming, “I can’t die, it’ll hurt my image.”

The other night I viewed a 21st century version of an exercise show, broadcasted on HD TV called “The Big Losers.” If you haven’t seen or heard about the show, it highlights overweight people, obese would be a better description, with competing 2-person teams doing some really unusual sporting events.

The teams battle to win against each other based on the amount of pounds/percentage each team collectively loses in a given time span. My overriding reaction was that of empathy laced with appreciation of what they were attempting to accomplish, which resulted with me walking in front of my bathroom mirror looking sideways after the show ended.

There was certainly was no happy tails wagging from the Cox cable during the show; rather, it’s a cheerless reflection of how overweight Americans have become. A recent survey taken by the National Health and Nutrition Examination showed that 61% of us are overweight; of those, 35% were moderately overweight with a whopping 26% being classified as being obese. The general culprit of this expanding medical problem is that we’re simply transferring too many calories from our own hands into our own mouths compounded by not exercising or own bodies enough.

We all have unique bodies that depend for the most part on the genes we inherent from our parents. These overriding gene tendencies awards some of us to be overweight, resulting with hips shaped in the likes of a pear, bowed legs like cowboys, and front teeth like David Letterman.

The luckier ones have genes that affords us fit, slim and thin bodies, size 4 dresses for life, natural muscle tone, and a hasty metabolism allowing for three-course dinners followed by mud pies with all the condiments.

The majority of us who were blessed with good health, but don’t have a body that would appear on the cover of People magazine, should count the given blessings. We were all created in the image of nature, which is perfect, with special gifts and talents that are second to nobody.

It’s comforting to know that there are others like Jack who promote good health habits and diets and remind us that we alone hold the power of choice to improve and maintain our health. Its people like Jack who we should try to emulate, in moderation that is, while encouraging our impressionable game-video-kids as well.

Today at 94, Jack still lifts iron and swims every day. In 2007 when interviewed on national TV he stated that he’s planning on celebrating his 95th birthday by swimming from California to Santa Catalina Island, which is only about 22 miles.

No one is a loser. We’re all stars and winners with the right attitude that we alone choose to take. If I could tell Jack just a thing or two as he nears the one-century mark of his life I’d say:

“Monsieur Jack, it’s OK to pass on one day, your image will always be synonymous with an evergreen. Thanks for your inspiration of fortitude, as I’ve decided to pick up my pace a bit during my walks to Soka University, but, I’m still going to unchain myself now and then and savor over five seconds each luscious bite of my jumbo size Resses’s dark chocolate peanut butter cup … when nobody’s looking.”

Steve Sayer
ALNews Columnist

Singing In Union the Ancient Songs of Spring
By Steve Sayer

When the early signs of spring begin revealing its myriad faces, it seems that everything is magically restored and renewed with a relentless domino effect without end. Deciduous trees play catch-up to the evergreens; perennial flowers of every possible color start their blossoming, and baby fronds from a variety of ferns and palms begin their unraveling as they shoot up towards acres and acres of sky.

Spotted ladybugs can be seen stretching out their delicate wings while balancing on a four-leaf clover, as the hasty bluebird is in full song while gathering straw for her innate nest. Seemingly terrain cursed caterpillars begin spinning their cocoon’s, soon metamorphosing into colorful and autonomous butterflies. Rainbow hued hummingbirds rocket around, powered by the flowers sweet nectar. Even spiders, some with perfectly shaped red hourglasses, joins the burgeoning parade as they trampoline high in the sky on their translucent webs of silk.

What a miraculous time it is each spring when earth’s collective flora and fauna wake up and break away in union from the clutches of long and cold winters. A rather obscure Greek mythology tale holds the bragging rights to the first recorded account of the marvels of spring and summer including the genesis of fall and cold winters.

This very old anecdote is worth telling for the first time or revisiting once again because of its unique and personal appeal to each and every one of us.

A young and beautiful Goddess named Persephone lived in Greece. Her mother, Demeter, was the Earth Goddess who was responsible for making trees and plants grow and multiply. Among other things, Demeter taught mankind the secret of cultivating, sowing, and harvesting of grains and fruits for their sustenance.

This ancient tale begins with Persephone playing and singing songs of spring alone in a bountiful field of flowers when the earth suddenly opens up with a thunder. Out of the ground came a chariot led by a pair of dark and intimidating horses. In the chariot and holding the reins was Hades, the feared Lord of the Underworld. He kidnapped the striking Persephone and took her to the Underworld to be his wife.

However, before the earth closed up behind them, Persephone’s belt accidentally fell to the earth. When Persephone didn’t come home, her mother searched frantically for her. As the months slowly passed, Demeter grew so miserable and sad that she forgot to make the entire plant life on earth grow. The warm green and abundant earth turned colorless, bleak and cold. As legend has it earth’s first fall and winter then came to pass.

One day a shepherd boy brought to Demeter her daughter’s belt that he’d found on a field near an opening to the Underworld. Demeter accurately surmised what had happened. She went straight to Zeus, the King of the Gods, and told him that if he didn’t order Hades to free Persephone, the earth would remain lifeless without end.

Zeus agreed and told Hades he must free Persephone. Demeter went to the Underworld to retrieve her daughter but quickly discovered that something dreadful had happened. Persephone had eaten a few pomegranate seeds, (a common fertility symbol among the ancients), while in the Underworld. According to law, if one consumed pomegranate seeds, including a Goddess, they could never leave the Underworld.

With Persephone still locked in the Underworld, Demeter refused to make anything grow as her misery never subsided. In light of this, the Gods made a deal with the Devil; for every pomegranate seed Persephone had eaten, she would have to spend the equivalent of one month every year for eternity with Hades.

Demeter agreed to this and Persephone returned to earth with her mother as Demeter’s happiness returned once again. The earth then flourished with a cornucopia of grains and fruit bearing forth to the relief and joy of all mankind. But because of the overriding curse of eating pomegranate seeds, Persephone to this day leaves her mother 4 months of the year causing the chills and darkness of winter to return once again.

As the miracles of this spring are flying, singing and budding all around us, we can be certain that Demeter and Persephone are together once again, singing in union the ancient songs of spring.

Steve Sayer
ALNews Columnist

Anyone who has driven north or south bound on Highway 133 has seen it. That brightly colored oversized orange sphere east of the highway aptly named, The Great Park Balloon.

This French designed and manufactured helium balloon is permanently tethered to the ground, giving passengers a spectacular view of the surrounding landscape. Though the balloon is only allowed to float 500 feet in the wild blue yonder, the experience has attracted thousands of thrill-seekers.

Now let’s imagine for a moment that you’re back in Paris France around 1899. With the breeze at your back, you maneuver the world’s first homespun hydrogen dirigible with the aid of a 3 ½ horsepower motor, equipped with a propeller and a steering rudder to the infamous Ratatouille’s 5-Star café for some brunch in downtown Paris.

While casting silent shadows onto the streets and rooftops of Paris below, you begin your descent by discarding 10-pound sand bags below; where hopefully no horse carriages or people are standing and staring. You politely bellow down to the nearest Monsieur or Mademoiselle on the cobblestone streets, to grab hold of your trailing rope and tie-up your air-borne basket to the nearest gas-lamp post.

After carefully scrutinizing the charming menu, that was retrieved by lowering and raising a taut rope attached to a straw-woven basket, you and your darling place an order to the well-rounded Master Chef, while bobbling ten-feet off the ground, marking histories first fly-thru restaurant;

“Oui Monsieur, Bonjour, Oui Monsieur, Oh … Oui… two orders of your eggs-benedicts, one sunny-side up, the other sunny side down with lightly toasted wheat bread with butter and marmalade jelly, minus the crust, and … a bottle of your vintage 1877 Domaine de la Grange Chardonnay on ice, with two of your exquisite long-neck crystal glasses and some additional napkins.” “Oh and Monsieur, please, … please, will you send up a bottle of artesian water for my precious little four-legged Sabrina, she’s currently panting signally that she is a tad thirsty from the dry summer breeze.”

Sounds too Jules Verne or romantic to be true? Well its not.

Meet the dashing and debonair Alberto Santos-Dumont, a wealthy scion of a Brazilian coffee plantation grower, whose turn-of-the-century feats in the skies over Paris made him one of the most popular figures on both sides of the Atlantic.

Alberto would sashay his latest prototype dirigible high above the winding Seine, sail along the shores of the Mediterranean, skim over the towers of Norte Dame and glide in swirling figure eights around the Eiffel Tower. Intent on building magnificent flying dirigibles for everyone, Alberto had envisioned that the friendly skies of world would one day unite with the ground, oceans and rivers as a viable means for commuting.

Being the toast of the civilized world, Alberto dined in fashion with some of Europe’s reigning King’s and Queens, including such international dignitaries as, the Rothschild’s, H. G. Wells, Thomas Edison, and Teddy Boy Roosevelt.

Alberto’s dirigible prototypes eventually evolved into a heavy-than-air aeroplane. The Brazilian’s first successful flight of 37 feet in his incredible flying machine had been preceded by Orville Wright’s 12-second flight by almost three years. The Wright Brothers had been so secretive of their initial flights, that the over-anxious French press erroneously placed a victory wreath around Alberto’s neck as the man who conquered the air.

The celebration of Alberto’s aeroplane feat however, went plunging down like the Hindenburg, when news about Orville Wright’s powered-piloted flight at the wind-swept beaches of Kitty Hawk North Carolina finally made its way to France.

I plan on taking my family to the former El Toro Marine airfield and take the vertical thrill ride on the beautiful, beautiful balloon minus our Chihuahuas; as they’re not allowed onboard as per balloon committee regulations. However, we’ll carefully pack a straw-woven basket fully equipped with some fresh homemade French croissants, a jar of marmalade jelly, plastic cups, plenty of napkins, and a bottle of cooled Perrier water.

When the le grand balloon orange extends itself up, up, and away to its 500-foot limit, we’ll pop open our Perrier and offer a 21-century toast to the memory and feats of Alberto Santos-Dumont, while pretending of course that we’re hitched to a gas-lamp post high over the rooftops of Paris, just north of the 405 and 5 freeway interchange.

Steve Sayer
ALNews Columnist

Working Safely
By: Steve Sayer

Principle 1 of an injury/illness plan - The Buck Stops Here


(The views and opinions expressed in this blog are strictly those of the author.)
Harry Truman, who became commander-in-chief following the death of Franklin Roosevelt, had a sign on his desk for White House visitors to see. It read, "The Buck Stops Here."

It's fitting that we bring into focus Truman's renowned dictum as we appraise the first of eight principles of an injury/illness prevention program (IIPP). Principle 1 is all about having a dogmatic commitment from the president of your company concerning OSHA safety. The same brand of pledge that she/he made towards the 1996 Mega Reg. If this commitment isn't made and not consistently supported, then your communal effort to eradicate injuries/illnesses to manageable levels shall be quixotic.

With the fervor of Geronimo on horseback amid the insistence of Rommel in his tank, a mission statement from your president proffering her/his inveterate commitment to a safe, healthy workplace must be communicated to everyone. Truman relied on qualified, knowledgeable cabinet members and military generals to get his messages across that ended WW II. So must your president. Delegating responsibility to qualified plant management and supervisors who've been trained and educated in OSHA safety is a must.

With responsibility comes accountability. Principle I includes selecting the right people with the right stuff to be your safety coordinators/safety officers. They must be educated in OSHA safety with the objective to creating and maintaining a safe and healthy working environment.

There's an abundance of OSHA seminars across these United States where you can begin the education process for your OSHA team. Devote yourselves to OSHA safety like you do each day towards quality control. Your collective efforts towards reducing injuries and illnesses will then begin to be realized.

Like HACCP, form an OSHA committee that meets and discusses events that have transpired since your last meeting. Create quorum, record minutes, and file your records for future references.

IIPP Coordinator

ü Sets safety policies. Provides leadership/information updates. Liaises with governmental and workers compensation agencies. Assures records are maintained. Determines needs for authoritative safety references while procuring and distributing them. Coordinates loss control activities. Critiques program evaluations.

Safety Managers

ü Inspects and appraises workplace hazards. Works with management/IIPP coordinator to develop methodologies for abating workplace hazards. Validates hazards were abated. Investigates accidents. Reviews accident reports/corrective actions. Assures corrective actions were taken. Implements recognition programs for employees who exhibit commendable safety performances.

By launching your OSHA program with an IIPP that has been erected on a bedrock foundation of educated, knowledgeable people, you're well on your way down the yellow brick road to stopping your tsunami of bucks to insurance companies.

As these 8 principles continue to unfold, you'll perceive that an IIPP is as indigenous to HACCP as the boomerang is to the quintessential Australian weapon. Epiphanies?

Principle 2 of an IIPP - Its all about your people


(With last weeks principle 1 being realized by:

An unwavering commitment from the President of your company to providing a safe/healthy workplace for employees;
A qualified IIPP Coordinator being selected;
Safety Officers being trained/educated in OSHA Safety;
A Safety Committee being organized that establishes quorum, recorded minutes and reports on OSHA events since past meetings.
Now it's time to take one small step to principle 2 and one giant leap towards achieving a safe and healthy working environment at your company. Principle 2 is hands-down my most precious of the 8 principles of an IIPP. It's the gold-standard principle that I see missing in action in many food plants. Principle 2 is all about your people in relation to company training, recognition and disciplinary policies.

Discipline is a form of teaching. OSHA policies promote safety awareness. The objective is to simply eliminate and minimize employee risks. When your hire people, you -- the employer -- hold the inherent responsibility to educate your employees and let them know what is expected of them. Likewise, each employee should be held accountable for their actions beyond their first day of employment.

In our industry it's an established norm that science-based HACCP programs are supported by a melting pot of SSOP, prerequisite, SPS and GMP programs. But what foundation do these programs rely on? It's your people. Not just your production people, but those in sanitation, shipping/receiving and maintenance who prepare and ship the products, clean the facility and apply maintenance to the equipment.

If your people are the foundation for your company's ultimate success, then a well-designed hiring and training protocol needs to be in place and working as intended. This is principle 2. It's what you do or don't do with your people from day 1 and beyond. Educating workers promotes self-worth; self-worth amplifies individual morale that naturally manifests itself into improved productivity and longevity with employers. Training is educating employees on how to perform their jobs properly, efficiently and safely.

Principle 2 also encourages the IIPP coordinator and safety managers with providing guidelines for corporate recognition programs for exemplary safety performances. Recognition may be gift certificates, letters of accommodation and/or an employee of the month awards. I've seen owners of companies hold meetings and draw out of their bumper caps random winners of TV's, stereos and DVD players whenever thirty consecutive working days without a reportable injury or illness has been achieved. This type of interaction really helps to boost and maintain high employee morale.

Yes, I'm cognizant it's a long way up hamburger hill, but once you've arrived and look down from the summit, you'll love the vista from atop. Comments?

Principle 3 of injury and illness prevention – stop communication breakdowns


(The views and opinions expressed in this blog are strictly those of the author.)
Ahhh, communiqué!

With the conviction of Noah on the necessity of flood control, a two-way communica­tion channel between manage­ment and employees concerning safety and health issues is critical to an injury free and productive workplace.

The rudiments of principle 3 are primed and fine-tuned to stopping the communication breakdowns between management and employees. You don't need to possess the keen communication skills of Zig Ziglar or the judicious organizational talents of Lee Iacocca to get your messages across. By following principle 3, your communication breakdowns will plunge downwards like the Zeppelin Hindenburg of 1937.

New employee orientation – A new employee orientation must include a review of the injury and illness protection program (IIPP) including discussions of company safety policies and proce­dures that employees are expected to follow. A code of safe practices describing unique hazards of each job must be included. Orientations should exhibit company values while concomitantly providing the tools needed to succeed.

Well-planned orientations will help employees get up to speed while reducing costs associated with learning their jobs. It's important that employees learn early on what is expected of them. That is; the safety goals of your company.

Bridging language barriers - Hablas Espanola? Taler du Dansk? Parlez-Vous Francais? Your OSHA training must be in a language that your employees can understand. You don't have to turn your workplace into Ratatouilles 5-star café; use translators.

Meetings - Documented meetings with employees should be scheduled with safety openly discussed. I've always encouraged meetings being held prior to employee's first break while they're still fresh and impressionable.

Written materials - Post bi-lingual safety announcements on high foot-traffic bulletin boards. Questions should be directed towards supervisors.

Employee suggestions - Employees should be encouraged to inform supervisors of any workplace hazards and potential hazards, including hazardous work practices. A system should be designed for anonymous suggestions by depositing suggestions into a mailbox. Employees should never be reprimanded for report­ing hazards and unsafe work prac­tices. Supervisors and safety managers must investi­gate and document each reported hazard, unsafe work prac­tice, including safety suggestions.

When an enforcement investigative analysis officer (EIAO) appears at your establishment to perform a food safety assessment (FSA), you'll be asked to proffer a profusion of documentation. The same applies if OSHA spontaneously materializes at your doorsill. The safety committee needs to ensure that all safety related activities are well-documented for any needed future references.

Send me your ideas via your ergonomically engineered keyboard and tailless mouse vis-à-vis principle 3.

Steve Sayer
ALnews Columnist
Columnist/Blogger for meatingplace.com

As most of us already know, or will eventually acknowledge, that love in general can easily get twisted around and quite complicated. The same can be said about Valentine’s Day, which is only fitting being that Valentine’s Day involves people, their courtships, and choices made or not made.

For centuries there’s existed a two member all-star tag team, one a mere mortal, the other an immortal, who’ve joined forces with co-starring roles involving Valentine’s Day. They compliment each other in the likes of eggs and bacon, pancakes and syrup, or cookie’s and milk.

Both are legends of their own individual era and merit. You can’t have one without the other. Just try to imagine Romeo without his Juliet, Sleeping Beauty without her Prince Charming, John Smith without his Pocahontas, or Cleopatra without her Marc Anthony.

One is a god of love representing both Roman and Greek mythology of which Plato once penned as being the oldest of all the gods. All of the others idols in the likes of Zeus, Nemesis and Narcissus had their 15-minutes of fame and then faded away.

But this ancient Roman romantic ringleader, Cupid, has enjoyed everlasting appeal since Renaissance artists of the15th Century depicted him on canvas as a flying overweight baby with cherub cheeks and white angel wings, which always appeared to be too small. Sometimes he was painted blindfolded, sometimes not, but he always had his arsenal of a bow and arrow in hand ready to score. Think of a fat bumblebee with an attached doll head equipped with puny wings while being outfitted like Robin Hood of Sherwood Forest, minus the bright and tight green spandex suit.

The other is a venerated 3rd century martyred priest, reverently known today as St. Valentine who, according to one of several legends, defied a Roman Emperor named Claudius II who had issued a decree eliminating marriages of his soldiers. St. Valentine acting with principles, values, and divine intent was sentenced to death when caught performing clandestine marriages. After being thrown into jail, he falls in love with a jailer’s daughter. Prior to his death, he composes the world’s first known Valentine missive when he signs off with, “From your Valentine.”

Like some of boxing history’s most famous one-two knockout punchers in the likes of Rocky Marciano and Jack Dempsey, Cupid jabs at the heart, while Valentine simultaneously infiltrates and works the spirit. This dynamic duo’s one-two punch casts a potent spell over unexpected victims with their poignant arrows and tender words. Legend has it that Cupid’s arrows could penetrate any Knights armor, while Valentine’s words would sway even the most stubborn of mules.

After the sitting ducks are struck, there’s a marked increase in the sales of two-door cars, teeth whiteners, breath mints, dental floss, haircuts, manicures, pedicures, nose and ear hair trimmers, orange crush sodas, red roses, gym memberships, wax candles, high and low heeled shoes, star gazing and bicycles for two.

Conversely there is a marked decrease of four-door cars, meals at McDonalds, bank accounts, disposable income, (including pocket change), shopping for clothes at Wal-Mart and K-Mart, and the consumption of garlic.

Everyday surroundings are abruptly transformed as well; Reds are redder, pinks pinker, clouds resemble cotton candy, sunsets are abruptly noticed, driver’s becomes door openers, gas prices don’t mean a thing, dreams turn from black, white and mute, to high definition plasma and surround sound. Winter becomes summer, bird songs become rhythmic, and cold winds become warm zephyr breezes.

But leave it to us mortals to distort and skew things by bad choices, oversized egos and thoughtless stingy acts. Hearts become broken by harsh words that are spoken. The late ex-Beatle George Harrison summed it up some thirty-years ago nice and concise by penning and singing;

“Isn’t it a pity, now isn’t it a shame, how we break each others hearts, and cause each other pain, and because of all our tears, our eyes can’t hope to see, the beauty that surrounds us, … now isn’t it a pity?”

Cupid and St. Valentine, or the Cupid of Valentine, set the pace and had it right for all of us ages and ages ago. Money and mascara can’t buy true love. It’s what’s in one’s heart and soul that matters the most

Steve Sayer
ALNews Columnist

(Everyone That Owns A Computer Owns " A Press" )

Worse Back Then

As we commence the new year, the increasing crescendo of criticism and arguments between candidates (all offices) and exponents of each and every governmental (all levels) position – healthcare, troop deployment, state and federal budgets, bank bailouts, global warming, you name it, is becoming amplified. If you are perturbed over some or all of the missiles being lobbed between adherents, I can only say it’s a good thing you were not around some 200 + years ago. For newspapers, pamphleteers, candidates and their spokesmen fully and vigorously exercised their newly won freedoms of speech and the press.

In 1800, America had some 200 newspapers, including 24 dailies. In general, however, these publications were primarily mouthpieces for political parties rather than independent, objective entities. The Gazette of the United States, for example, promoted the ideas of Alexander Hamilton and the other Federalists, while the National Gazette and the American Aurora (edited by Ben Franklin’s nephew, Benjamin Franklin Bache) spoke for Thomas Jefferson and his Democratic-Republicans.

A typical newspaper published between 1784 and 1830 was filled with harsh, satirical, and sometimes false recriminations. Considering that libel laws then were based on English common law by which one needed only to prove that he was aggrieved, those editors and publishers took notable financial and personal risks.

In those years the framers of the Constitution were not expected to campaign for the presidency. The public, after consideration of their merits, was supposed to “invite” them to the office (oh, if it only continued). Jefferson, however, from his secluded Monticello haven, unknown to the general public, ran an aggressively vicious if not libelous campaign in those newspapers, particularly in the Aurora and the Boston News Letter against John Adams, Alexander Hamilton, his nemesis, and even George Washington. He accused Washington of senility and of being manipulated and under the control of Hamilton.

"If ever a nation was debauched by a man," the Aurora editorialized about the country's first president, "the American nation has been debauched by Washington".
The attacks became so virulent that Adams, much to the detriment of his historical position among the founders, was persuaded to sign the Alien and Sedition Acts of 1798 which resulted in the imprisonment of many who published these scurrilous (to the Federalists) pieces. To Jefferson’s credit one of his first acts after being elected in 1800 was having the Alien and Sedition Acts repealed.
A.J. Liebling, one of the great American newspaper columnists, once said that freedom of the press belongs to those who own a press. Now that most of us own a “press” (you may call it the Internet), you aint heard nothin’ yet.

Arnie Silverman
Laguna Niguel

A recent poll conducted by General Nutrition Centers, Quicken, showed that more than 50% of Americans vow to appreciate their loved ones and to spend more time with family and friends in 2010 as their Number #1 New Years Resolution of choice.

Other popular resolutions were losing weight, getting out of debt, stop smoking cancer sticks and cease drinking. Do you set New Year Resoutions every year? How many of us really keep our resoultions throughout the year?

Recent research proves what most of us already know: that the vast majority of us will not keep those resolutions that we so desperately want to realize. While 52% of all of the participants in a resolution study believed that they would accomplish their goals, only 12% actually achieved them. Interestingly, men achieved their goal 22% more often when they set small, measurable goals (lose a pound a week, rather than a vague "lose weight"). Women succeeded 10% more often when they made their goals public and enlisted help from friends.

The beginning of a New Year makes us reflect down south, back to what we’ve accomplished and not accomplished. It also encourages us to face north; to the future and things we would hope for our loved ones as well as close friends and ourselves.

Its no wonder that the tradition of New Years Resoutions has its taproots in Roman mythology Janus (or Ianus; meaning "archway") a mythical king of early Rome who was the god of gates, doors, doorways, beginnings and endings. His most prominent remnant in modern culture is his namesake, the month of January, which begins the new year.
He is most often depicted as having two faces or heads, facing in opposite directions. At midnight on December 31, the Romans imagined Janus looking back at the old year and forward to the new.

With two faces, Janus could look back on past events and forward to the future. Janus became the ancient symbol for resolutions and many Romans looked for forgiveness from their foes and would also exchange gifts before the beginning of each year.
The Romans began a tradition of exchanging gifts on New Year's Eve by giving one another branches from sacred trees for good fortune. Later, nuts or coins imprinted with the god Janus became more common New Year's gifts.

In the Middle Ages, Christians changed New Year's Day to December 25, the birth of Jesus Christ. Then they changed it to March 25, a holiday called the Annunciation. In the sixteenth century, Pope Gregory XIII revised the Julian calendar, and the celebration of the New Year was returned to January 1.

The celebration of the New Year is the oldest of all holidays. It was first observed in ancient Babylon about 4000 years ago. In the years around 2000 BC, Babylonians celebrated the beginning of a new year on what is now March 23, although they themselves had no written calendar.

Actually late March is a logical choice for the beginning of a new year. It’s time of year that spring begins and new crops are planted. January 1, on the other hand, has no astronomical or agricultural significance. It is purely arbitrary.

I don’t know about you, but I have some of the top resolutions already in the bag. I don’t indulge in smoking, chew skoal or drink alcohol, though I suppose I could still lose a couple of pounds here and maybe even there. However, I am guilty year around with not offering enough sacred tree branches, nuts or coins imprinted with the god Janus to both friends and foes alike. I’m going to cease looking back, become more charitable, and beat the 78% odds already bet against me and bag that one too in 2010.
How about you?

Steve Sayer
ALNews Columnist

Curious George

Mark Twain, the venerable, perennial and multifaceted iconoclastic, once exclaimed; “A man who does not read good books… has no advantage over a man who cannot!”

Reading is one of the most important things that the majority of people, regardless of the age at hand, don’t do enough of. Reading stimulates the thought process, expands and enlightens ones awareness and is a definite harbinger of stimulating epiphanies.

I’ll never forget what Winston Churchill, a fanatical reader himself, had once proclaimed about the importance of reading; “You are … what you read.” Whether the books subject matter is Nancy Drew, Farenheight 451, Moby Dick, War and Peace, King Arthur’s Court, or just The Cat In the Hat Comes Back; reading indelibly enriches ones imagination, vocabulary as well as enhancing one’s writing skills that will be needed and called upon time and again during ones entire life.

While the history of literacy goes back several thousand years to the development of writing, what constitutes literacy has changed throughout times past. At one time a literate person was defined as one who could sign his/her name. At other times literacy was measured only by the ability to read and write Latin; regardless of a person’s ability to read and write in his or her own vernacular. Even earlier, literacy was a trade secret of professional scribes, with many monarchies maintaining a cadre of this profession, as was the case for Imperial Aramic, who imported people from lands where a completely alien language was spoken and written.

Although the present-day concepts of literacy have much to do with the 15th century invention of the movable type printing press, it wasn’t until the industrial revolution of the mid-19th century that paper and books became affordable to all classes of industrialized society. Until then, only a small percentage of the population was literate as only wealthy individuals and institutions could afford the prohibitively expensive materials. Even today, the dearth of cheap paper and books is a barrier to universal literacy in some less-industrialized nations.

Reading can be described as a shared act, in which the reader’s exclusive imagination goes halfway to meet the authors; the reader visualizes the books subject matter as its being read and participates in the making of the characters and rounding them out.

High Definition or HD originated in books; not on a 60-inch flat screen plasma TV. The effort of bringing something vivid out of the neutral array of black font is quite different, and in my own experience, far better than passive submission to the bright icons and pixels of television, which tend to burn out the tender wiring of the viewers imagination because they allow no re-working.

You are what you read rings true with many of the world’s great historical figures who’ve contributed over the centuries to the arts, sciences and to society as a whole. Take Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln's formal education consisted of about 18 months of schooling, but he was largely self-educated and an avid reader his entire life with an insatiable appetite to learn.

Lincoln’s readings and early influences came in the likes of William Shakespeare, David Hume, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Robert Browning, Alexander Pope and the King James Version of today’s perennial Number #1 best-seller … The Bible. These collective writings popped up in his many speeches during his historical campaign for the Presidency, as well as his writings, declarations and addresses as Commander-In-Chief.

With no modern day inquisition or monarchy to threaten the livelihood of the general population, and with free library cards available to anyone who is willing, there really is no excuse to not go to a library or a bookstore and pick out a subject matter that is most appealing.

Set time restrictions to the amount of TV time for your kids, including those mesmerizing X-Boxes, Wii and Sony Playstations; you’ll be doing your impressionable young one’s a life-size, life-long favor. Who knows maybe a 21st century version of a Twain, Lincoln, Einstein, Austen, London, Edison, Thatcher, Churchill, Bradbury, Parker, Hemmingway or a Pasteur may be in the making on the next page of your four year-olds Curious George book.

Steve Sayer
ALNews Columnist
Aliso Viejo

"Nuttin"

A true story by;
Arnold Silverman
Laguna Niguel

Our 11-year old granddaughter, Ally, was given an assignment by her grammar school teacher to write a biography of one of her favorite family members. For some inexplicable reason she chose me. Gathering information for her report, she asked me some 40 or 50 questions, one of which was who was my best, boyhood friend. My reply unleashed the following “buried in memory” anecdote (relevant at this time of the year); one that I want to share with you.

I believe it was 1936 or 1937. I was 7 or 8 years old. We were living in the just burgeoning, FDR/New Deal-Washington D.C. Those were tough, economic times for the nation then limping through the Great Depression. In spite of FDR’s hopeful fireside radio chats (there was no TV then) and Democrats singing “Happy days are here again”, it seemed that there was no light at the end to that dark tunnel except for those joining the new, federal bureaucracy in D.C. The times were also tough for my father, Lou Silverman, who epitomized Arthur Miller’s Willie Loman in trying to make a living working a nickel and dime territory for the Metropolitan Life Insurance Co.

Business was so bad that year his salary was dropped from 45 to $40/wk. Now $5 a week was important money then for most families. As I recall, our rent was $50/mo and with gas, electric and food (new clothes would have to be put off to another time) there was not much if any left over. Some months, of course, this bill or that was paid late. Since most people were in a similar bind, there was more latitude and patience in collections than today.

There was also the possibility that my dear father, who had a powerful penchant for the ponies, may have blown some salary at Pimlico Racetrack in Maryland. Also, my mother, a loving but no nonsense lady, controlled the family finances with Scrooge-like parsimony (Barack and Ahnold in Sacramento could sure use her today). Whatever, times were tight.

As if to exacerbate the difficult days, it was a particularly unpleasant winter. Dark and dreary, cold and wet, with seemingly never ending snow and sleet, a bleak Christmas and end of the year were approaching. In spite of my knowing things were lean, I nevertheless, like every other kid, anticipated getting some kind of Christmas or Hanukkah present. Like many immigrants (they were very young children when they arrived from Europe around 1900), my parents, not religiously ritualistic, felt a need to assimilate into American society. Thus, they did not distinguish much between the two holidays. Also, in those years Hanukkah was not so competitively (gift-wise) celebrated as it is now. For us Christmas was the day for present sharing.

That Christmas Eve I remember listening to Lionel Barrymore do a particularly scary radio rendition of Dickens’ “A Christmas Story”. Finally falling asleep, I awoke before 6 in the morning, bounded out of bed, and searched for whatever bauble my folks had gotten me. There was none. Neither I nor my older brother received a thing (not even unappreciated socks or underwear). While he brushed it off, I brooded the rest of the morning. Although understanding why, I had difficulty overcoming my disappointment. Nothing was said. The holiday was ignored.

Early afternoon my best friend, Bobby Kilroy, who lived across the court from us, called, and invited me over to play and enjoy the day with him. Bobby and I were very close. He would often play hooky from school on Jewish holidays so that we could play together, and several times I tried to go with him to his class at St Mary’s Catholic school near Grant’s Circle. The good sisters, knowing of my heritage, always gently persuaded me to return home.

We played football and baseball and all of the games kids played then. Several times we and other friends would hike to one of the still remaining trenches dug around Washington’s perimeter to protect the city against a possible attack by Lee’s forces, and, would you believe, play war by shooting bb pellets at each other. Fortunately, we were poor marksmen and no one was hurt. I presume that those trenches, hurriedly built during the battle of Gettysburg “just in case”, have been filled in and are under some housing or business development now.

Bobby’s mother, a widow, would be called a single parent today. His father had been a B & O Railroad employee, and with her minor, filing clerk position at some federal agency and what she received from his meager pension, she managed to keep afloat.

Hesitant at first because I knew he would be showing me his presents, I agreed and walked across the court to his apartment. When I entered and saw the empty packages under the scrawny , sparsely decorated tree, I felt a little envy, but managed to conceal it. His mother prepared a snack of “Depression” sandwiches (peanut butter and bananas on Wonder bread), we ate and then played with some of his new games. In time the ultimate question was asked, and I had to confess, choking back tears, that I had received nothing. Mrs. Kilroy, listening, hugged me, and said that the day was not done, and surely something would show up.

We continued our games, ate too much candy and in time my gloom was gone. As I was about to return home, his mother, who had gone out and returned, scratched her head as if in bewilderment, and exclaimed that she could swear she saw a package under the tree with my name on it. Excited, but incredulous, I searched and sure enough there was indeed a small package with my name on it. Encouraged to open it then and there, I tore the wrapping off, and there it was. A wind-up cowboy with lasso that you placed on the rim of a cup or glass and watched as it traveled around the circumference swinging the lasso. Now in those years that particular toy must have cost less than a dollar, but I have to tell you I have never been more overjoyed in my life. Tears rolled down my face as I hugged Mrs. Kilroy and thanked her.

I played with that toy every day for some 2 weeks. When it broke, I did not care. The important thing was that I had been remembered. When in 1941 we moved to New Jersey, I lost track of Bobby. Years later, when I was in CIC training at Fort Holabird in Baltimore, and recently on the Internet, I searched for him, but without success. I’ll always remember Bobby and his mother, who, though having her own tough time financially, made a little boy happier than she could have ever imagined.

So… please take the time and effort to brighten the day for someone in need or who just needs a little appreciation. And…to everyone a joyous Christmas, Hanukah, Kwanzaa or whatever you’re celebrating and the very best of a healthy and fulfilling New Year!

Arnold Silverman
Laguna Niguel

Veterinary Hospital in Laguna Niguel
www.MonarchVet.com

In the April 2009 issue of Aliso Viejo News I published the first part of this two part series on pain management in pets. In that article I focused on how you can know your pet is feeling pain.

Anyone wishing to obtain a copy of that article from that issue please contact me through our website and I will email you a copy. This article will summarize the many different options available to provide relief for the pain that our beloved pets encounter.

First and foremost, your pet should be properly examined by a veterinarian and correctly diagnosed if you perceive that the pet is painful. The top priority is then to address any specific diagnosis with targeted therapy to correct the underlying condition or disease process that is at the root of the pain.

If that cannot be done, or only partially done, then the pain treatment becomes what we call “palliative”, or simply trying to make the pet as comfortable as possible for as long as possible.

This may be the situation in some cancer patient or severe, long-standing osteoarthritis. But—again—it is essential to have a correct diagnosis by a competent veterinarian before any treatment is prescribed or initiated.

Many times I have see folks do something on their own, such as give over the counter pain medications, with tragic results.

NEVER give your pet ANY human medications or homeopathic medications without at least a phone call to your veterinarian. Play it safe. Medications such as Tylenol and Advil or Aleve can kill your pet.

There are very specific occasions when a veterinarian prescribes chiropractic manipulation or acupuncture, but those should never be initiated without a veterinarian’s directive. In fact, it is illegal for a chiropractor to treat a pet without a veterinarian’s prescription.

The use of class IV lasers is another alternative treatment for certain conditions that can be very effective in selected cases.

Once a diagnosis has been made, or at least we know the cause of the pain, then a veterinarian has many options to alleviate that pain and make the pet more comfortable. In cases of osteoarthritis and hip dysplasia or elbow dysplasia, weight reduction is often recommended, and helps tremendously.

In specific cases, hydrotherapy (whirlpool bath) and physical therapy (especially after surgery or traumatic injuries) can speed recovery and alleviate pain. Deep tissue massage and passive flexion and extension during recovery from fractures and spinal injuries or muscle injuries are very helpful, but as the clinician directs and teaches you how to do it.

Special diets are available in selected cases such as osteoarthritis, such as Hill’s j/d diet, which has been shown to slow down the destruction of joint cartilage and preserve the joint integrity. Glucosamines, essential fatty acids, MSM, and chondroitin are all “nutroceuticals” that help maintain joint integrity. So is an injection called Adequan.

In the case of osteoarthritis of a chronic nature, there is a cutting edge option that has become available in the last 2 years—adult stem cell therapy, also known as regenerative cell therapy (www.Vet-Stem.com )

Recently, some surgeons are combining this with surgery with good results, such as elbow dysplasia cases. The stem cells are harvested from fat tissue in the pet, purified and processed, then injected intravenously and into the joints.

Some of the results have been near miraculous. There is much promise that adult stem cell therapy will be used in many other aspects of veterinary medicine in the near future, including kidney and heart disease and diseases of the bone marrow. Though not inexpensive, is has become as very viable option to keep pets mobile and enjoying life.

I know that pain management in hospitalized patients has changed dramatically over the years as well, as more local anesthetics are used during surgeries and dentals that last for hours during the initial recoveries. Local and regional nerve blocks in addition to systemic pain medications at the time of procedures are resulting in much smoother recoveries.

More recently we are seeing epidurals being used in some orthopedic procedures and it so nice to see these pets wake up essentially pain free. Diligent use of all modalities available to us is very rewarding as we see pets recover. However, the primary focus of this article is to address the pain your pet may have at home.

The prescription medications we veterinarians prescribe fall into two primary categories: opioids (narcotics) and NSAIDs (Non-Steroidal Anti-Inflammatory Drugs), and a product known as gabapentin. The opioids work best for soft tissue pain and also are often used when any pain is severe.

They also sedate the pet to a degree. The NSAIDs are best for long term orthopedic pain, are the most commonly prescribed, but are not be used without ascertaining good kidney and liver function, and require ongoing periodic blood tests to make sure they are being tolerated. It is a standard recommendation to give gastrointestinal protectants such as Pepcid™ or Prilosec™ when giving NSAIDS as they have the potential to cause severe gastrointestinal ulcerations and bleeding. Some of the newer “Cox 2” NSAIDS only require once daily administration and offer pain relief far better than something like aspirin, and with less danger of stomach ulceration or bleeding.

Follow your doctor’s advice carefully with these meds. The NSAID use in cats is controversial, and is used with prudent caution.

The bottom line: Be alert to observe your beloved pets carefully and sense it they are in any pain or discomfort, and then consult your veterinarian and follow the doctor’s advice carefully. Just know that today’s technology offers many options.

Dr. Glenn Craft

By Mark Espenschied, Publisher

There was a time when being a singer was all that mattered to me. Eventually, I had to accept that I did not really have the potential for greatness, and I lacked the commitment to devote my whole life to that goal.

I am 48. Susan Boyle is 48. In the most general of terms, I feel like I can relate to her as a singer. I am not jealous that she has gotten her break. I want everyone to realize how significant it is.

A lot of people have good voices. Since a good voice is so important to me, it has been surprising to discover how many people with good voices don’t value them. “Sure, I can sing. It doesn’t really interest me.” Those people are frustrating to singers. “Don’t you realize what you have?!”

Susan Boyle realizes what she has. She has a unique instrument. But even at that, singing is hard. Let me clarify. To sing correctly is hard.

Susan Boyle has taken the gifts she was born with and developed them. You don’t just sing like she sings. You learn how to use the instrument.

Having confidence in your instrument allows you to perform when fear, uncertainty and doubt are trying to dominate you. “I can do this. This is what I long to do. I have something worth public validation.” Plus, even though the size of the crowds have been much, much smaller, she has years of experience. She knows she can open her mouth and blow people away, whether it’s 20 in a pub or millions around the globe. Experience always matters.

Her audition is especially significant to watch because she had nothing to lose. She knew she had the shot she had waited for her whole life. She could not be concerned that she was old, that she had gained weight, that she was still dealing with the loss of her mother. She had no idea how it would be received globally, but she knew that she had a chance to sing for the judges, and that not many get that opportunity. And she knew she had an instrument. Bizarre behavior before and after singing? Not really. She is a singer, not a talk show host. Before and after is when you see the nerves, and frankly she proved her mettle as a performer in those moments. Would you prefer that she stand there like a scared mouse or shake her hips?

When you watch the clip of her singing “Memory,” you learn quite a bit from her first faltering notes. It is obvious that Susan Boyle sings with learned technique. Look at her posture. Watch what she does when her voice betrays her. She has mentality lost focus of the technique and her hand reaches for what musicians call our diaphragm, as if to remind her instrument of where the support comes from. She quickly regains focus, straightens a little and is fine. She sings a lot in her low register and that deserves praise. The low register is the hardest to support and sustain. But that work makes her soaring passages all the more dynamic and rewarding. Remember that she was already feeling the strain of the incredible global attention at this point. But while she was on stage, she stayed focus and put on a performance.

The final is several amazing performances – only one singing. She channels all the frustration and all the fear into that vocal performance. She did not break down emotionally after the winner was announced; she had been breaking down for days. But performers understand that on stage is where you feel the most control. It’s all about you. You know what you are there to do. You want to do it. You want to please the audience and you believe that you can. At least, you have to find out if you can. I would call her rendition a liberating experience for her. Imagine all those thoughts swirling around in her head. “Am I going to win? What if I don’t win? Everyone expects me to win. I sang my song, get me out of here.” The chitchat after her song had to be the hardest thing for her, and she defaulted to safe territory, thanking everyone. “I’m among friends, am I not?” How many performances do you think that line got her through as a young girl before she was so sure of her instrument? Before she had the experience. “Susan, everyone wants you to sing well. They did not come here to hear you sing badly. They are your friends…” and the other millions of things we tell youngsters who want to perform but lack the experience and confidence.

And then we come to the announcement of the winner. This is where Susan Boyle deserves a medal. She is absolutely gracious in defeat. She says the right things. She keeps her composure while inside her thoughts are screaming at her, “They don’t like me! They don’t like me!” Where is the acknowledgment of this feat?!

This is the problem that resulted for Susan Boyle. “You must win. All else is failure.” There were many good performances that night that did not win. But Susan Boyle’s transition from, “Wow, you made it into the completion,” to “You’re going to win! You’re going to win! The world EXPECTS you to WIN!” And then not win? Think about it. Try to relate to it.

I think she is going to be fine. I think she is going to make her CD and I think she is going to tour to support it. She may even make it on stage in the West End. Why? Because it is when she is performing that she is happiest, AND SHE IS GOOD AT IT. It is then that she feels the most self worth. She will work through the emotional rollercoaster of the competition and the unrealistic demands it placed on her. Then she will focus on what she does best – stand before an audience and sing.

“Britain’s Got Talent” will be but a footnote. People want to hear her sing, because she has a voice that deserves to be heard. It won’t be a competition. It will be singing for friends.

Well, I never thought this old (and I do mean old) reprobate, NY Keynesian economics liberal would have such a thought, but here it is. I don’t believe there should be a Big 3 auto bailout. I mean it’s not about saving an industry; it’s about saving politically connected corporations. You save these guys and every politically influential company in the country will be there with its paws out asking for dough. There already is a line up of salivating lobbyists and CEO’s pressuring for a piece of the federal bailout largesse. If the auto guys get bailed out, then everyone will have a legitimate shot. Look, what makes workers at Mervins, The Gap, Circuit City, Sun Microsystems or any of the other troubled companies inferior to GM, Ford or Chrysler workers?

The auto management bureaucracies and their union counterparts seem to have made every mistake in the books. Over the decades they were responsible for lousy car design and quality, too generous wage and benefits concessions and an overall bureaucratic lethargy on both sides unable to adjust to the realities of worldwide competition. Compare the innovations of German, Japanese and Korean designs to American. Detroit always seems to be catching up with the latest and greatest. Also, add the complicity of the fawning Michigan congressional delegation that, obeying its auto masters, battled against any of the environmental and competitiveness-improving car innovations. Do you really think that a bailout is going to change anything? It really only delays the inevitable.

In short, I believe these dinosaurs must go through the extinction of bankruptcy. We the public should not waste precious funds on life support. Whether they continue in business or not, cars will still be made in the US, and in time, talented, innovative, fresh thinking-new management will form new companies to build advanced-technology, non polluting cars that reflect the needs of the future.

Now, I don’t believe we should just leave the hordes of resulting unemployed on their own. Instead, take part of that proposed $50 bil. and make it available for a reasonable time to those people as continued unemployment, reeducation and health benefits. It will be a hell of a lot cheaper and productive for the nation than pumping dollars down that dry well, and, again, could lead to the revitalization of a newly dynamic, environmentally responsible, technologically leading industry.

So….let the patient die. Let’s get on with the tasks of turning things around! Incidentally, what make are you driving these days?

AHS
Laguna Niguel