Dollar Snow-Cone

The August summer heat would not relent as she defiantly arched her elderly frame to rise from the cracking concrete stoop in this ignored part of the city.

I walked up the block with a crumpled dollar bill for the ice – without the syrup.  Sweat scattered from my hairline.  My face and neck burned scarlet.

The makeshift plastic table was wobbly-arranged for quick sales anticipated from the two buses of people who visited for a mere afternoon, scheduled in to clean up the neighborhood through a service agency.  All in the name of peace and solidarity.

A battered aluminum urn, dented from years of use, held ice that would shave pieces into a forbidden Styrofoam cup – a cheap fix.  A neat row of glass bottles with plastic pumps each waited with their blaring color of sugar syrup attentively for its snow-cone debut – chartreuse mint, tangerine orange, bright violet grape – nothing known to Nature.  My only wish was the frosty shavings to melt my dusty, gritty throat.

She rose from the stoop as I smiled deeply breathing in front of a torn plastic umbrella, offering some shade.  Her cocoa-colored skin clenched hard onto muscles whose strength was all but gone from years of sacrifice.  Her knotted, ebony hands buckled from years of toil…fields, factories, mills?  I couldn’t imagine.  This heat would not stop her today.  Nope.  No way.

“Just ice please.”  I handed her the dollar bill.

She pulled the black plastic lever to shave the ice into slivers of cool relief.   Gently she extended her arm giving me a cup filled with ice shavings and started to count out change – one worn quarter, one dime and three nickels.  Her hand trembled as she counted and then my eyes rested on her wedding ring encircling the on her left hand.

The simple band was of thin gold, but the worn beveled edges reflected the mysteries of a previous life filled with more joy than today brought.   The pattern of the bevel was exactly the same as the wedding ring belonging to my grandfather which I wore in the middle of my right hand.  I had asked for it and wore it every day without fail since his death.   Nonu’s hands were the worker’s hands of a turn-of-the-century Italian immigrant – massive, skilled and unfaltering.  They could crush rock, melt brass or graft five different apples on to one tree for autumn pies Noni would make each year.

I reached for her left hand with my right so she would see my ring as I touched hers.    She slowly lifted her eyes to meet mine.  Her heavy blink under sagging eyelids gave way to a weakened smile as time and space held us united in some unexpected enigma made for this day.

“No change”, I said, “and God bless.”

boards baltimore


Be Open…to The Arts, to Progress, to Love


Adelphi University, Long Island, NY has undertaken an ambitious initiative in a year-long, cross-curriculum endeavor to explore the Changing Nature of War and Peace.

Thursday, September 4th, Dr. Cornel West spoke to an overflowing campus Performing Arts Center about the need and scope of arts in bringing awareness, understanding and “love” for others in fostering empathy. The Youth Choir – a few members as young as 3 yrs. old- of the Greater Allen Cathedral performed to a standing ovation. “EX-cellent” still rings in my mind! And the “acapella” Voices of Virtue inspired oh-so profoundly with their harmony and spirit! Groups like the Adelphi Music Department students and Kids for Coltrane brought notes of hope in realizing that without the arts and creativity, “spirit” remains elusive. And for the first time in a L_O_N_G time, I heard people admit that without spirit, we are less than human.






suora 80 anni

Work ennobles the soul. Working with meaning makes your life rich with purpose. Your joy depends upon the realization that “you” are unique and purposefully make a difference, however small, in this experience called life.

A Small Business with a Big Focus on Individualized Service!


If you are in the Metro NY – Long Island area and need individualized attention for a special occasion dress, be sure to include Runway Couture, Bellmore, Long Island. They strive to make every woman feel as beautiful as they can be – from mother of the bride to prom date to Red Carpet honoree.

90 cents. plus my two at 1:32 a.m.

This evening, I sat through a CSN Concert in Connecticut which brought me back to the hope of the 60s, when music said something and where three part harmony blended with forceful words which spurred us to action, to beliefs, to movements.

Then I check my email from Our Journey to Smile – Afghan youth seeking non-violence in their lives.  I see genocide in Gaza, parties choosing death over truce, hatred from all sides, children fleeing for their lives into where they believe is hope for a better life and being met with jeers and ignorance, hatred and a horrible breed of people.  Politicians and corporations in collusion promoting profit margins over personal advancement of a vast number of children in their warping of education.  And ill-spoken demanding people of minimal common sense or virtue who spout off about their rights to possess automatic weapons while their responsibilities need not be even questioned.

What has happened to our dreams, our reason, our beliefs?


“We can change the world, rearrange the world, 

if you believe in justice, if you believe in freedom,

let a man live his own life, rules and regulations who needs them?  

Open up the doors!

Chicago – CSN




Caffé Borgia Saturdays

  She met him again after so many years, not enough stories,an abundance of tears. Each telltale smile of what used to be emblazoned on hearts released and now free. This sidewalk café, espresso, sweet rolls,were years their main fare amid Saturdays’ souls. The East … Continue reading

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Judgment beware

Judgment beware

“salga fuera, culto al dinero. promesa de los pueblos, salir a luchar por el valor.” -Papa Francisco I Without food, safety, peace or rest how can others be expected to do their best or show mastery on a data-driven test?

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ennobles the soul. There seems to be a loss of pride and value concerning the inherent goodness of a job well done. Many animatedly share talk of their weekend and reap excitement only for their next vacation. What happens to … Continue reading

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burst of energy

burst of energy

early morning hours sometimes seem like first spring days when it takes an incredible amount of energy to burst through the doldrums, the repose of winter to muster the first burst of spring – days like today, when the weight … Continue reading

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