Eat Something...You're Too Thin!

There is an expression that goes: "Some people eat to live while others live to eat." Italians usually fall into the latter category. What differentiates us from others who enjoy a good meal are the things we like to eat. I wrote a post a while back on this phenomenon in my other blog, "Spaldeen Dreams" called: "More Pudding, Mom!" (View), but there is more to be said. Meat and potatoes we find boring, besides, many Italians came from poor families where meat on the table was a luxury, usually reserved for Sunday dinner. To compensate for the inexpensive and meager ingredients they had to work with, Italian cooks raised culinary creativity to new heights.

For example, leftovers were given a new lease on life in soups, omelettes and salads. A favorite school lunch of mine in high school was a pepper and egg hero sandwich. As the oil soaked through the brown bag I carried my lunch to school in, it imparted an extra flavor element that actually enhanced the taste of the sandwich. The smell was so mouthwatering that I often ate my lunch in homeroom class before first period. I would then buy a hot school lunch to keep my stomach quiet at noontime.

Pie is a favorite dessert for many people, but Italians took pie in a whole new direction. When baked with unusual fillings like escarole, spinach or even calamari (squid) pie became a delicious and very nutritious main course. Sicilian Escarole Pie Around Easter, another favorite main course pie was "Pizza Rustica", a pie filled with meat and cheese. Go a little easy on this one because it is molto delicioso, but will have your beleaguered arteries begging for mercy. Pizza Rustica Recipe

When non-Italians think of "Italian" pasta, they think of the traditional macaroni with meat sauce eaten by many pisanos on Sunday afternoons. In fact, Italian pasta dishes are so much more versatile. There are many sauces used such as garlic and oil, cream sauces such as Carbonara GIORGIO’S SPAGHETTI CARBONARA and Alfredo, and of course vegetable sauces like Pesto and Primavera. PASTA PRIMAVERA Italian mothers improvised many dinners for cold winter nights mixing pasta with such diverse ingredients as cici beans, peas, potatoes, lentils, cannellini beans, lima beans, broccoli and broccoli rabe. These wonderful dishes filled the stomach, were very heart-healthy, and cost pennies a serving.

Being a people with a collective sweet tooth, desserts too were sometimes unique. A favorite of mine usually made around the holidays was honey balls or "Struffoli" as they are called. Struffoli (Honey Balls) Recipe These are a lot of work to make, but just wonderful to eat. "Cartellate" Cartellate (Fried Honey Spirals) are crisp pastry spirals that are drizzled with honey. They are sometimes called the "dahlias of Saint Nicholas" because of their color and shape and also their association with the nuns of the hospice for pilgrims of Saint Nicholas of Bari. I could not close without mentioning two of my favorite Italian cookies, Pignoli macaroons and Venetian Layered or tri-colored Cookies Italian Dessert Recipes

As we get older, unfortunately many foods go on the restricted list. This stinks. So many pleasures are denied to seniors; the least they could do is to let us eat!

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My Kind of Town, Grassano is....

Both sets of my grandparents came from a small town in southern Italy called Grassano, which lies in the region of Basilicata in the province of Matera. In the year 968, the area that is now Grassano was part of the Byzantine Empire. During this period it was under Arabic control until the second half of the Tenth Century, and then, in 1048, became a Norman fortified town. In the fiftheenth century a Jewish community arose. The first documents showing the town name of Grassano were dated 1123. At this time, Grassano was a kind of suburb of the town of Tricarico. The inhabitants, called "Grassanesis", never loved this dependence, so they asked Ladislas the Magnanimous (King of Naples) for their independence. Grassano was declared an independent village on January 19, 1414. The town remains small to this day with a population of 5,792. Grassano's Patron Saint is Sant'Innocenzo, which I always understood to be the rough Italian equivalent of my name, James.

Like so many Italians, my grandparents sailed from the port of Naples between 1908 and 1912 and passed through the gates of Ellis Island in New York harbor. If your ancestors entered America the same way, you should visit Ellis Island; I promise you it will be worth your time. Also, their website contains valuable records and search tools for tracing your family's arrival. Ellis Island - FREE Port of New York Passenger Records Search On our last visit we saw a moving film on what the immigrant experience was like. While walking around, we wandered into a room that displayed posters of some of the great ships that travelled in and out of Ellis Island. One poster stopped me in my tracks...it was an image of the ship "Brasille", (see photo left) the very same boat that brought my grandparents to America! I felt chills all over, as if Grandpa and Grandma were sending me a little message from beyond. I am so proud of my grandparents for having the courage to leave behind all that was familiar to them, and trying to create a better future for their families.

When immigrants like my grandparents arrived in this country, they weren't exactly welcomed with open arms. They banded together in small Italian-American enclaves in all the boroughs of New York city. The neighborhood parish was the center of their social life, and many magnificent churches were actually built by Italian men who possessed the skills of stone masons and brick layers learned in "the old country". Early Italian immigrants had one goal when they arrived in America: to assimilate. They adopted their new homeland passionately (the way Italians do most things). They strove to "blend in" not wanting their children to endure the treatment they suffered as "foreigners" in a new land. As we look back, we see how well they succeeded. While traces of prejudice toward Italian-Americans still linger, clearly we have made our mark on this country. We can point with pride to the children of immigrants who now occupy the highest places in medicine, government, education, science and the arts, but a price was paid for those gains.

In many Italian-American homes like mine, the Italian language was not spoken. Children were encouraged to speak English. The only time Italian was spoken was when the communication was not for our ears. My father's mother lived with us. She spoke no English, but we conversed in a fractured combination of English and Italian. I regret that Italian was not spoken in our home. Young children have an affinity for language, and it's much easier to learn as a youngster rather than as an adult. I studied Italian for three years in college, but it was taught in that painfully stilted way that focused on grammar rather than just conversation, and I remember virtually none of it today. This suppression of our Italian culture was not done maliciously, but was a sad side effect of the zeal with which Italian-Americans embraced their new homeland.

I am proud to be an Italian-American. As I grow older, I think I feel the tug of the old country more than ever. I want to stand on the soil of the country my grandparents left so many years ago. I want to breathe the air they breathed, to see the faces of the people...my people. We are traveling to Italy for the first time this October, and I am very excited to be making the trip. All of us whose families immigrated from Italy should do what we can to reconnect to our roots, and encourage our children to do so. I recently joined an organization called the "Center for Italian-American Culture, Inc." based in New Jersey. I believe in their goals and their mission to celebrate the Italian-American culture. If you're interested, check out their website at http://www.ciiacofnj.org/ or call them at (973) 571-1995 for membership information. Evviva Italia! (It means Long live Italy...I looked it up.)

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Introducing the Red Diamond

Glad to be back at the old blogspot... I've been away for a while as our contractors work diligently on our new bathroom. You would think having a bathroom remodeled would not be a big deal, after all, we have another bathroom downstairs and it is just the two of us living in the house. Guess again grasshopper. We had so much stuff packed into that bathroom and it is now in boxes all over the house. The work also kicks up a lot of dust as walls, ceilings and tiles come down to make room for the new. I can't complain too much; Joe and Anthony are very neat and talented workers who did a great job. Best of all the stuff we picked out all looks beautiful together, a happy outcome considering what it all cost.

I have to say that we didn't go hog wild in selecting components for our new bathroom. It was a real education for us to see the kind of stuff that's out there in terms of tubs, toilets, tile, vanities and accessories. If money was no object, one could easily spend $30,000 to $50,000 for a room whose function is very basic; when I was in the army, we just dug one with a shovel when the need arose. We shopped around at some nice places, probably a tad above average in terms of price and quality, but nowhere near the extremes one could go to. Here are some of the nifty things available to the discriminating shopper who never looks at price tags.

You just polished off a big bowl of bran flakes and two giant coffees. Like the great Al Bundy, you grab your newspaper and step into your "office". But instead of that old toilet with the seat that's chipped in exactly the wrong places, what do you behold? Why it's the Toto Neorest 550 Duel Flush Toilet. This baby has a heated, temperature-controlled seat, a lid that raises automatically as you approach it, a cyclone flushing system that operates on a sensor or by remote control, a nightlight and air deodorizer. It also has "warm water washing and drying functions"... what these are just boggles the imagination! Just think, you can do your business and then wait until you hit the kitchen before using the remote to activate the cyclone flushing system. Just like James Bond pulling the pin on a grenade and tossing it over his shoulder as he steps into his Aston-Martin. I can put your cold buns on the heated seat of this baby for a mere $5,259 and shipping is free!

Tired of that ugly aqua tub that came with your dream house? Meet the Red Diamond bathtub from Water Games Technologies, a new high in bath tub decadence. The screaming-red tub features multicolor, underwater lighting, a computer-controlled heating system that maintains your desired water temperature, an automatic disinfection system and built-in massager. Of course it comes with two retractable HDTVs, crystal champagne holder, and built-in GSM module that lets you call your bathtub and get things ready for some splashy time from afar. So grab your rubber ducky, write a check for $47,000 and the Red Diamond is all yours.

OK, I can tell from the way the blood has drained from your face that you're not Red Diamond material, how about a nice shower? The folks at Moen abhor the term "shower", instead they refer to it as a "chrome digital vertical spa"...I swear, you can look it up. This system features four programmable temperatures, flow and custom presets, a bright LED screen that displays exact temperature and spray outlet, 7" diameter rainshower showerhead, a four-function handheld showerhead that provides a superior shower experience (gee, I always thought of it as just getting clean), four body sprays and an optional remote control with up to 30 feet of range. The Moen chrome digital vertical spa goes for a mere $2600, and that's just for the controls; it does not include the cost of the shower enclosure!

And now, with as much delicacy as I can muster, which, let's face it is not much, let's talk toilet paper. Tired of that cheap Wal Mart paper with the hunks of wood in it? Well the people at Revona bath products make a toilet paper that is truly worthy of your tender butt. These toilet paper rolls come in four colors, are said to be soft and silky, and more importantly, cost enough to make you feel special. It’s $13 to $20 for a three-pack, which arrives in a tube of similar color. Or, you can also order a regular pack of six, wrapped in plastic, which goes for $13 to $15. I'll bet you can't wait to polish off that Taco Bell burrito special just so you can tear open a roll.

When space aliens discover the remains of our planet, they might wonder what caused the civilization to fail. They only have to go back to the time of the Romans for the answer. Various reasons are suggested for the downfall of Rome. I think it was when they started upgrading perfectly functional bathrooms by installing lavish and expensive add-ons like marble tile and flowing fountains. For our civilization there is a parallel; the Red Diamond bath tub is clearly the beginning of the end for life as we know it.

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"And Make It Snappy!"

Why are we always in such a hurry? I know that Type-A New Yorkers are especially susceptible to the need to do things fast. We talk fast, eat fast, and drive as if our very lives depend on getting to the next red light faster than anyone else. After a while, we can't function any other way, not only that, but we lose patience with others who don't move as fast as we think they should. I do a lot of shopping in New Jersey, and sometimes I feel like screaming when the cashiers take what seems like forever to complete your transaction. New Yorkers, when they return from vacation to anywhere else in the world all say the same thing: "God those people are slow. I'd go crazy living there!"

Every day on the radio I hear a commercial for speed-reading. "You can read ten books in the time it takes someone else to read one!" Reading is supposed to be a pleasurable activity; when did it become a race? One of the most enjoyable experiences in life is to sit quietly with a good book and let the author capture your imagination. I remember as a kid discovering the joy of reading and how it could enlighten, entertain, excite and even anger you. Reading was your ticket to places and times you would never know in any other way. The objective of reading a good book should not be to get to the end as quickly as possible, but to be affected in some way by the experience. Don't be deprived of this by the need for speed.

I drive into Manhattan five times a week. The main route to the Verrazano Bridge, our way off Staten Island, is via Hylan Boulevard. This is a good secondary road with the traffic lights timed to allow commuters to make their way to the bridge without stopping if they travel at around 40 miles an hour. Nice easy ride, right? Wrong. Every day, without fail, there are morons trying to pass you on the right, tailgating, making high-speed and risky lane changes to get where...to the next light which is still red because these jerks exceed the speed at which the lights are timed to change. As I get onto the bridge, I see the same jerks next to me because, unless they are prepared to run red lights, which some do by the way, they can't get there any faster for all their zig-zagging. My solution...warn them once, if they get caught a second time, lobotomize them.

One of the funnier comics around is a guy named Brian Reagan. He does a dead-on impression of a New Yorker on an elevator waiting for the doors to close. The guy stands there fidgeting and jabbing the "Door Close" button muttering: "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon, CLOSE dammit! This is not a made-up joke, but rather an astute observation of Type A behavior. These nuts will also sometimes pass their hand back and forth across the elevator threshold, or bounce up and down in the car trying to "fool" the elevator into thinking more people just got on, and that it's now OK to slide the doors closed.

Domino's Pizza has a policy that states: "If your pizza does not arrive within 30 minutes, it's free." Is this plasma the guy's delivering? Should we put a siren and flashing lights on the delivery car so some fat f**k won't have to wait more than a half-hour for his pizza? Maybe the police need a new summons type: "Failure to yield the right of way to a Domino's pizza truck". Memo to Domino's: Stop endangering lives by trying to honor this stupid policy. Take your time, make a better pizza and, what the hell, take up to an hour to deliver it. I'm sure Vito can snack on some Ho-Ho's while he waits.

Remember going to the bank and speaking to a teller who knew you and your family? You exchanged small talk about the weather and your weekend plans while she cashed your check or accepted your deposit. The wait wasn't that long because the bank had plenty of tellers. Then came the dreaded ATM. I'll admit that ATMs are convenient after hours and on weekends when banks don't have hours, but that's all they have going for them. It started slowly...the banks rationalized the elimination of personal service by claiming that not having to pay tellers would save customers money. Then they started charging ATM fees or demanding minimum balances to avoid them, so where's the savings? Now people don't even get out of their cars, they lurch up to the outdoor ATM, snatch their money and speed away. No more pleasant smiles at the teller window, and thousands of jobs eliminated when we need them most.

I know New York will never be Mayberry, but sometimes I think we've gone too far in our quest for more and more speed. The pace of life seems too hectic, what with e-mail, cell phones, fast food, fast-forwarding through the commercials on a TV show you DVR'd...it's insane. We need to slow it down a bit and restore some of the civility that went South when we forgot about small courtesies and how to enjoy little things like having a word with your neighbor or the mail carrier. Someday I hope to have a house with a porch, to me, the very symbol of slow and easy. A porch is sitting in the rocker enjoying a glass of lemonade on a hot day, maybe reading a book while listening to the ballgame on the radio. If I could, I'd just dive into one of those classic Norman Rockwell paintings of Americana and live there.

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LOOKING FOR A WORTHY CHARITY? TRY THESE FOLKS: Children's Craniofacial Association

Stream of Consciousness

Sometimes I have random thoughts, "braindrops" if you like, that don't fall under any particular heading. I save them up like string and every now and then throw them into a miscellaneous post like this.

Congratulations to Supreme Court Justice nominee Sonia Sotomayor. It's nice to see someone with such humble beginnings rise to such a prominent position in life, and I'm sure she is a wonderful role model for minorities everywhere, whether or not she is confirmed. We need to be careful here though. As heartwarming and affirming as her personal story may be, we need Supreme Court Justices who will allow the United States Constitution to guide their decisions. That document, envied the world over, contains all the protections we need as citizens of the United States. No individual Justice's prejudices or personal opinions should be allowed to supersede it, no matter how interesting their personal story.

Did you ever read the back of weekly church bulletins? I know, I should be paying attention to the sermon, but I find it hard to focus when the priest keeps repeating himself until he reaches the allotted 10 minutes. Anyhow, the sponsors of the bulletin are almost always funeral homes or doctors. Do they think only the sick and dying come to church? How about Costco or Home Depot jumping in with ads for the "not almost dead" reader. I wouldn't mind finding a good deal on new tires while Father Redundant drones on.

Jerry Seinfeld had a funny bit about aliens landing on earth and concluding that dogs were the rulers of the planet after seeing humans scooping up their messes. I have nothing against dogs, but any chance of me ever becoming a dog owner evaporated after they passed that pooper scooper law. I could deal with feeding and caring for a dog, walking them when they needed to go out, and taking them to the vet as necessary, but the idea of me trailing a mutt around with a little plastic bag until they decided the moment was right to poop....ain't happenin'.

What's with all the ads on the radio that end with some speed-talker reeling off the sponsor's disclaimers at 1,000 words a minute? How can this be allowed in an age when consumer advocates are lurking behind every rock? If there are conditions that alter any claims or warranties just made about the product in perfectly understandable English, then the verbal equivalent of the "small print" in a contract should have to be read in understandable English too.

I understand that fashion has its twists and turns, and that styles come and go...I only have to look in the family album at some of the clothes we wore back then that look so ridiculous now. But there is one trend that I just don't get...the guys with the pants worn down around their knees with their underwear showing. I think the look started in poor black ghettos, was popularized by black rappers, and has now been adopted by white "wanna be's". I won't have to wait fifty years to know this look is ridiculous, it's ridiculous now. Pull up your damn pants!




What my car
looks like
to birds.

More random thoughts to come; signing off for now. Th.. Th.. That's All Folks.




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LOOKING FOR A WORTHY CHARITY? TRY THESE FOLKS: Children's Craniofacial Association

Stuff in the News

Arizona State University recently invited President Obama to deliver the commencement address to it's 2009 graduating class, but as is customary, did NOT confer an honorary degree on the President. The media were horrified and headlines screamed: "Obama Snubbed." I applaud the University for upholding its standards. In explaining why the degree was not conferred, the University stated: "Arizona's honorary degrees are given "for an achievement of eminence" and that the President was not considered for an honorary degree because his body of achievements, at this time, does not meet the criteria." It's arguable whether becoming President of the United States should qualify, but that said, it took courage for the college to stand its ground.

The other side of this affair is the grace with which the President accepted the decision. Instead of the knee-jerk reaction of the liberal press, President Obama used the incident to urge ASU students to try harder to achieve. His statement: "I come here not to dispute the suggestion that I haven't yet achieved enough in my life. With a smile he added: "First of all, Michelle (Obama) concurs with that assessment. She has a long list of things that I have not yet done waiting for me when I get home." But more than that I come to embrace the notion that I haven't done enough in my life. I heartily concur. I come to affirm that one's title, even a title like 'President of the United States,' says very little about how well one's life has been led." I'm no fan of Mr. Obama's, but this was a very classy way to handle the situation, and I applaud him.

As long as we're patting the President on the back, let's give a nod to his wife Michele. I developed an active dislike for her during the Presidential campaign. That remark about feeling pride as an American for the first time when her husband was nominated really set me off. I am still not solidly in her corner (a fact I'm sure causes her to miss a lot of sleep) but I see a strength in her and a sense of family values that resonate for me. Here's an excerpt from her commencement remarks to grads at the University of California, Merced "You will face tough times. You will certainly have doubts, and let me tell you because I know I did when I was your age,” she said. “Remember that you are blessed. Remember that in exchange for those blessings, you must give something back. You must reach back and pull someone up. You must bend down and let someone else stand on your shoulders so that they can see a brighter future.” I like that message a lot.

Don't think I'm going soft...I have a few shots to deliver as well today, the first for Mayor Michael Bloomberg of New York. I think Mike's done a fair job for the city during very tough times. His recent drive to overturn the city's law on term limits for Mayors opens the way for a third 4-year term. For a guy who spoke strongly for term limits, this was a betrayal of all the citizens who voted for the law. He's like a spoiled rich kid used to having his way. He's also using his billions to start campaigning against a rag-tag bunch of contenders who have no chance of beating him. He's already filling the airways with ads in that annoying nasal voice of his that I will have to listen to until November.

Finally, today's paper ran an item about a Staten Island woman named Marie Grasso who runs a demolition company. A quote: "She is No. 1 on the list of building code scofflaws. Grasso has run up more than $1 million in fines by routinely violating building code safety rules, permitting conditions that injured workers and undermined the stability of adjacent properties. Yet the city continues to award her permits to knock down more buildings. Grasso is one of hundreds of contractors and landowners who've racked up fines but continue to work, unpunished. All together, this legion of scofflaws has amassed $263 million in unpaid fines since 1999, half of which the city has given up on collecting." What the hell gives here...my taxes keep going up while idiots like this get off scot free! Jimmy to NYC...turn over collections to the Gambino Family and make Marie an offer she can't refuse.

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LOOKING FOR A WORTHY CHARITY? TRY THESE FOLKS: Children's Craniofacial Association

Sorry, I Don't Speak Starbucks

On the way to the golf course this morning I decided to stop at my favorite Dunkin Dounuts on Route 66 in Asbury Park, New Jersey. I like their coffee and they make a nice breakfast sandwich. Usually I'm served pretty quickly, but for some reason today, the place was packed. The two servers in the snappy paper hats were doing their best to cope, but looked overwhelmed. (In Staten Island, the ten people ahead of me would have been waited on before they could get their money out to pay, but in Jersey they move at that slow motion "Mañana" pace. A customer at the register whose bill came to $4.14 gave one of the servers $10.14. The look of confusion that came over the server's face told me I wouldn't be getting out of there anytime soon. I think she was taking her shoes off as I walked out the door.

There's not much open at 7:00 AM in the suburbs, but I spotted a Starbucks in a strip mall across the highway. Normally I'm not a Starbucks kind of guy. People in there treat drinking a cup of coffee like some kind of sacred ritual. Many of the customers appear to live in the store. They sit in the plush club chairs in full Tommy Hilfiger regalia, nursing a cup of coffee for hours on end. If I were the owner I'd throw these assholes out the door, but hey, that's me. The owner of this Starbucks had his own problems. He was so super-cheerful it frightened me. At some point I thought he was going to vault over the counter for a group hug.

When I finally got "inside the ropes" I asked for a medium cup of coffee. I absolutely refuse to use the pretentious Starbucks terms for coffee sizes like Venti and Grande...please. Then Happy, the owner, says to me: Komodo or Pike?" Oh no, he's speaking Starbucks. Let me try to reason this out. Komodo is a dragon, and Pike is a peak, what the hell does this have to do with coffee? "What is Komodo or Pike" I ask, raising my voice a little the way we do when we speak to someone who doesn't speak English. I learn that Pike is their standard house blend and Komodo a bolder brew. Since the weakest Starbucks coffee gives me the caffeine shakes, I figure Komodo will turn me into a serial killer. I go with the Pike.

I then remember that Starbucks now serves breakfast sandwiches which are really quite good. I ask for a sausage and egg on a roll. The guy at my diner knows exactly what this means and simply brings me what I want. Happy, the owner at Starbucks, has questions. "Do you want that on a Multigrain roll or an Artesian roll?" I panic. I know what Multigrain rolls are, but Artesian roll is not coming up in my memory banks. Happy looks at me with that well-practiced: "How did this unwashed idiot get in the door" look, and disdainfully points to the glass-fronted showcase at an Artesian roll. It's as if he knew that language was fruitless in trying to explain things to a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal like me. (If you're out of the bread loop too, an Artesian roll is kind of a flat, Pannini bread that proved to be delicious.)

As I sat there munching my sandwich and sipping my Pike, I glanced at the menu just to have something to read. Some other breakfast selections I could have chosen: Parmesan and Gouda-flavored frittata or Black Forest ham and Cheddar, and to drink, a Venti Mocha Latte with a Piccolo Queso Sombrero. (I have no idea what on earth that is.) For lunch you might want to try the Grilled Vegetable San Francisco Ciabatta and wash it down (whatever it is) with an Iced Pumpkin Spice Latte. Before you leave, be sure to pick up some coffee to take home like Arabian Mocha Sanani, Brazil Ipanema Bourbon, Ethopia Sidamo or Guatemala Casi Cielo. Someone please, I need a Starbucks to English dictionary!

I know Starbucks is a very successful chain that redefined the coffee drinking experience worldwide. I know people are simply wild about their exotic blends from every corner of the earth. I know they are committed to saving the planet by using part of their profits for environmental causes. That said, I'm just not a big fan. I'm a Dunkin Donuts guy in a Starbucks world. My feelings can be summed up perfectly by quoting a line from comic George Gobel, who was the last guest to come out on a 1969 Tonight Show program. Already sitting at the dias were superstars Johnny Carson, Dean Martin and Bob Hope. George turned to Johnny and delivered the classic line: "Did you ever get the feeling that the world was a tuxedo and you were a pair of brown shoes?" Click below to see this great clip.

YouTube - Bob Hope Dean Martin George Gobel Johnny Carson


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LOOKING FOR A WORTHY CHARITY? TRY THESE FOLKS: Children's Craniofacial Association

Presenting: "The Barack-ettes"

As I get older, I feel so far out of the loop that I can't even see the loop any more. Things are changing much faster than they used to, and I often feel like I'm on the outside looking in. I remember when VCRs came out back in the seventies. My mother looked at that machine like it was something from another planet that did wondrous things, but that she could never hope to understand. It's not just technology that is changing, but people's attitudes, priorities and values as well. I know it's inevitable that younger generations will experience the world differently than older ones, but that process seems to have accelerated considerably.

I just read an interesting magazine article about how these generational differences play out in the workplace. They looked at three generations: The Baby Boomers born between 1946 and 1964; Generation X - 1965 -1980; and The Millenials - 1981 - 2000. (I am considered part of the pre-Baby Boomer generation known by the cutsey name of The Matures born between the year Dirt and 1945.) The article talked about the way each generation views work, and related a story I will share with you that pretty much illustrates how much things have changed. A company President from the Baby Boomer generation (they view work traditionally, pretty much as I do) was out on the office floor when a phone began ringing. All the employees were on the phones except one (a Millenial), who showed no inclination to answer the call. The President took care of the call, and then asked the Millenial why he had not picked up the ringing phone. His answer: "I was down to the last two minutes of an E-bay auction in which I was bidding."

The company President told the writer interviewing him for this magazine article that he took no action against the employee because things were different today. Young people don't look at work or a job the same way that Baby Boomers did. (See, here's where I move way out of the loop.) If I had been that company President, and got that answer from an employee of mine, his ass would have been out in the parking lot in a New York minute, followed by his belongings raining down from the nearest window. I (the company President) had to pick up a ringing phone because you (my employee) were engaged in bidding in an E-bay auction on company time! Not on my dime, Buckaroo.

Another area where I feel out of touch is in understanding the Millenial's addiction to technology. I use my home computer more than most, but don't feel panicked if I'm away from it for an hour. I just don't get sites like My Space and Facebook. Setting aside the risks for teens who naively post stuff on these sites better kept private, the real thing that puzzles me is why people feel compelled to send messages like: "Marcie is feeling blue today" or "What flavor ice cream are you". Who has the time or the interest to respond to this stuff? The same slavish attachment holds true for cell phones and I-pods, why must people be on them incessantly! They walk around with those stupid Bluetooth appendages sticking out of their ears. Us "Matures" are thankful for any quiet time we can get. (P.S. My blogs are not a compulsion; I can quit any time I want.)

I rarely go to the movies any more because my wife gets embarrassed when I shush people who are conversing as if in their living room. I used to watch the Academy Awards, at least until the show became interminably long. It was nice to see real stars (as real as Hollywood gets) with real talent compete for the coveted Oscars. Lately, on those rare occasions when I look in on the broadcast, I hardly recognize anybody. Actors and actresses come and go, with very few like Meryl Streep and Dustin Hoffman showing any staying power. They seem so hallow and superficial, and as for their acting ability, I'll quote an old line from a Dorothy Parker review of a spectacularly ungifted actress: "Her performance ran the gamut of emotions from A to B."

Finally, there is politics. I didn't vote for President Obama, but I'm rooting for him and for the country. There was a 20-page pullout in this week's paper celebrating the success of his first hundred days in office. Please tell me what I'm missing. I thought success was measured by accomplishments. Don't get me wrong; I'm not looking for miracles after three months, after all, he inherited a mess with the economy and the war, but let's wait until he actually achieves something before we celebrate. I can't get excited about sound bites and speeches, but apparently I'm in the minority. At his public appearances, the President is usually surrounded by young groupies who cheer wildly, no matter what he says. (I call them the "Barack-ettes.") I listen, but like all skilled politicians, he doesn't say much. The time for speech making is over; he's got the job and it's time to start keeping all those promises.

I don't like the feeling of being marginalized and out of the loop, but the way things are going, maybe it's a loop I don't want to be in.

SEE DATES ABOVE RIGHT FOR OTHER POSTS FROM "BRAINDROPS". ALSO, READ MY OTHER BLOG: SPALDEEN DREAMS

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