This is the time we look back on the past year and talk about all the good and bad, losses and gains, hopes and dreams. Most of us were probably not aware of two things that happened in 2019. We have all heard about climate change and preserving our natural environment from the real scientists, and even a teenage girl. We’ve heard from the deniers who refuse to believe the obvious. Unfortunately, the current administration is lead by the worst denier of all. Back in June, his administration issued a “clarification” of the Migratory Bird Treaty Act. I know what you may be thinking, I’ve got more important things to worry about than bird policy. It’s the twisted reasoning that is behind the “clarification” that should concern us all.

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Enough! I can’t take it anymore. Watching sports on television has become almost impossible. The games are consumed by over analysis, opinion, insight, and obvious explanation, that has developed into white noise. Now I understand why they torture prisoners by playing round the clock loud music to make them give up information. They are driven to a breaking point by the non-stop noise. That’s what televised games are doing to us. First, there’s the one hour, or even two hour, pre-game show. Five people, usually former players and coaches, led by a sportscaster talking about what they think about the game, the players, the coaches, strengths, weaknesses, and funny highlights. Have you ever sat through “C’mon Man” on ESPN? The same bunch of guys will be back at halftime with highlights and tell you what they thought of the game. Have you ever learned anything from one of those guys?

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We entered Rome from the west. It was not very impressive. The buildings looked like they were built in the 1950s, 60s, and 70s. It was what I would call grungy, and graffiti was everywhere. Things changed dramatically when we got to the center of Rome behind the what used to be the old wall that protected the city. We drove through a beautiful park to our hotel on the Via Veneto. The city is full of energy. There are very small, even tiny, cars zipping along the main boulevards and the narrow cobblestone streets. They are parked bumper to bumper from one corner to the next. People must be experts at parallel parking. While the cars are parked in the street, the motor scooters line the narrow sidewalks on every block. The traffic is frenetic. One tour guide told us traffic regulations are just “a suggestion.”

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The goal of all writers is to get people to read what you write. When you self publish, there are no agents, or publishers helping you get your book out there. It’s all up to you. That means tell every family member and friend, try not to be obnoxious about it, that you’ve written a book they can easily buy on line. Use social media. Try to get a local bookstore to sell it. I’ve checked all those boxes, but it was time to make a pitch in person to people I didn’t know, a Meet the Author-Book Signing. You have to put yourself out there, even though you risk standing in a room with a pile of books, and no one shows up. With the help of Pete, the head of the Social Committee in my community, we set one up at the clubhouse.

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At first, I was surprised. Then, I was angry. I was kneeling on a grassy patch by the curb  on the corner of our house at the Jersey shore. It was a couple of days after 9/11. Local school kids had planted small American flags in the ground on just about every corner to commemorate the day. They were those small flags attached to a wooden stick with a gold point on top. My wife noticed it had fallen over the night before. She picked it up, and stuck it in a flower pot in the front yard. The ground by the street was packed hard, and the flag wouldn’t stay. She asked me to dig a better hole the next morning.

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The beginning of September used to mean the last holiday weekend of summer, back to school, the beginning of fall, and the kickoff off the football season. It’s still means all those things, but there is also the shadow of the day that changed everything. That bright, blue sky Tuesday morning was shattered by the unthinkable terror of crashes, explosions, fire, death, and mountains of smoldering rubble that are still killing firefighters and police officers today. It shocked us like no other event in our history. We were vulnerable. How could this happen? How could we not stop it before the plot got off the ground? It made us afraid.

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I was 18 years old on the summer Sunday night 50 years ago when man landed on the moon. I was in my father’s office at ABC News where he worked as the Assignment Manager. I was working down the street as a summer Desk Assistant at WABC Eyewitness News. He was behind his desk as Neil Armstrong descended the steps of the lunar module. He instinctively reached for a pen, and began to write on a small pad, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind”, as the words came out of Armstrong’s mouth. I guess it was his newsman’s instinct. It was something that the millions of people around the world watching would remember. While it was one of great accomplishments in history, it was also the last great, good thing we did together.

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Everyone wants to win. To quote former New York Jets coach Herm Edwards, “You play to win the game.” A win, a great play, a goal are reason to celebrate. Not so fast. The Women’s World Cup has raised the issue among some that celebrating can go too far, and seem “arrogant”, overboard, and unsportswoman-like. It started when the US women beat Thailand 13-0 and didn’t let up when the game was clearly out of hand, and they had the nerve to continue to celebrate after every goal. Have you ever watched a men’s soccer match? After every goal there is the long knee slide, the running around the field, arms flailing, hugging teammates. And this is after every goal in every regular season game. This is not once every four years like the World Cup where some of these woman get one or two chances in their life to compete in a world wide championship for their country.

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This week we will celebrate the last 4th of July of the second decade of the 21st Century when we are all suppose to feel good about our country, and just be grateful to be Americans. These first two decades of the new century have changed that feeling as much as any twenty year period in our history, and it should make us question who we are, and what it means to be an American. The traumatic start of the 21st century may have actually started in the last years of the 20th century when we lived through the impeachment of a president for lying about a sexual relationship with a young intern. Sound familiar? But that seemed to fade away as we were worried about Y2K. Remember? Then we had the 2000 election that was decided by hanging chads and the Supreme Court.

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I get more embarrassed when Donald Trump leaves the country, and the rest of the world can see him close up. It’s cringeworthy to see him on the world stage. You can’t help but wonder what other world leaders are thinking when they have to meet with him, and then pose for the photo opp. The past two days the western world commemorated the 75th anniversary of the D-Day invasion. The pictures and stories of the 90 year old men who saved the world by charging through withering gunfire, icy waves, and the blood of fellow soldiers when they were so young can bring tears to all of us. It’s at these emotional and historic events when Trump is at his worst, and that’s saying something.

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