The First Time I Saw Her Head Swivel

In 1973 I was twenty-nine years, and I had just started a temporary job with the New York State Assembly. My wife worked also but we needed a little more money for vacations’ savings and miscellaneous fun activities. I noticed a help-wanted ad for movie ushers at a local theater and paused. I loved going to the movies ever since my mother took me to my very first movie, 1953’s “House of Wax” staring Vincent Price. To this day at every birthday party that uses wax candles, I think of this movie and the evil wax museum Vincent was running.

I applied and not only was I hired, because of my (ahem) mature age, I was hired at the head- usher. A very special movie was opening in a few days and special training was needed for all theater staff, and I’m guessing management figured I could supervise and help out overall. The movie was titled “The Exorcist” and it was getting spectacular advertising hype. The theater operators showed the entire staff a private viewing one day before it was being shown to the public. We were told prior to the lights dimming there were two scenes that might affect us in strange ways, so we should be on-guard. We were also told that for the first week after the movie’s premiere, there would be an ambulance parked outside in case it was needed for any of the theater-goers. Yeah, yeah I thought, all the hype was creating a type of movie frenzy anticipation that I thought might be overdone and ultimately disappoint the audience. So the lectures were finished, the lights dimmed, the curtain opened and the movie began. My wife and I held hands and settled in. Two hours later, both hands let go of each other, whitened and cramped. We both had felt moments of shock, horror, fear, nausea, and finally relief. Wow! The hype was real.

According to previous test showings, some female viewers felt nauseous during and after the scene where the possibly possessed twelve year old girl’s head spun around and spewed pea-soup green vomit throughout the room. Additionally, a scene in a doctor’s office of the same girl about to be stuck with a rather large needle caused some men to faint. Whenever these scenes were running, ushers had to be in the aisles looking for any signs of gender-distress. Once spotted we would escort the viewer outside to the ambulance to be evaluated by the para-medics. And these phenomenons did occur, in my memory about 25% percent of the showings. I couldn’t believe it but nevertheless it was real.

I only remained as head-usher for three weeks. The movie was still showing, but my temporary job with the Legislature became permanent. I must have seen “The Exorcist” in bits and pieces, over 24 times. So fifty years have passed, and for me, every time I hear the movie’s theme song, “Tubular Bells” my mind drifts back to when sitting in a dark theater, watching a little girl possessed by the most disgusting of spirits, her bed banging, the furniture flying, her eyes gorging, I was never less than convinced. It’s probably the reason that since then I try not to watch anything that smacks of the supernatural, horror, and terror genres. Once I experienced “The Exorcist”, that was it for me. And my full-time job with the legislature? It lasted for twenty-three years!

Showbiz Firings: Tucker, Don, and Alan

It’s not fun to be fired…Tucker Carlson was told, not by the Murdochs, but by a network executive on a Monday prior to his scheduled air-time; Don Lemon was told by his agent, and I, Alan Billingsley, got the news immediately after hosting an end-of-the week local talk radio show, reporting as ordered to the General Manager’s office where I was told my services would no longer be needed. Reason? Ratings! A lone Democrat radio talk show host in arguably the most conservative county in the country did not a lasting relationship make!

I’m not in any way suggesting I belong in the same stratospheric air of both Mr. Tucker and Mr Lemon, but we do share the same titles of “on-air personalities” who were let go. Two are famous because of their jobs at national television networks and were fired this week and my time came at a small Florida Panhandle radio station when Bill Clinton was President.

When I attended a radio and tv school in Albany NY in the 1990’s, I was told that firings were a common experience for almost everyone in the two fields. I was also told that almost every firing occurs on a Friday, as to not enable the person getting sacked a microphone to express his or her’s feelings. Makes sense.

The fact that Tucker Carlson, who had the highest ratings of anyone in cable tv, was told his services were no longer needed was a surprise. The reasoning behind this will eventually become public, but I’m guessing it must be pretty bad, which actually must mean really, really bad because in today’s America, people can do just about anything negative and never suffer consequences.

Almost anything, except in Don Lemon case, he said on-air that a female Presidential candidate was not “in her prime” which caused a fuss, and recently a Vanity Fair article detailing allegations of misogyny aimed at female coworkers. Maybe the workplace environment is improving.

Both made a lot of money, and no doubt in the near future they will be offered positions elsewhere because of their notoriety. Me, I was just let go.

For me, the Monday after my departure I sat in my car at six a.m.when may old show came on, and learned that one of the local people who I had invited onto my show to “play radio” as my co-host, was now the show’s full-time host. I also realized that the last time she sat in the studio with me, she knew then that I was going to be fired and she would be taking over. Ahh, show biz!

Soon after my fall from grace, I found another early morning talk-show gig in a near-by Florida county and thrived until my wife and I moved completely out of the area where the local radio market was 99% syndicated and without a need for a local host.

I learned that being fired, although demoralizing at first, can, and in may case, did, lead to a bigger and better job that I loved and where I learned, and became better performing my craft. All positive and good.

“Give me an adventure. I’m not talking about some massive adventure. Just something that would make getting fired seem small. Something that I might remember when I’m old.” Neal Stephenson, American Writer

“The Highest Appreciation Is Not To Utter Words, But To Live By Them” JFK

Every year on Presidents Day, two past Presidents come into my memory like clockwork…

Richard Nixon :

In the Spring of 1970, Nixon was halfway through his first term. I was an Army E-5 Sergeant working at the Pentagon. My office was often invited to attend outside White House functions to help build up the number of event attendees, so this enabled me to see the President from a short distance on many occasions. One day the unit’s Commanding General called me into his office to talk about my upcoming discharge from the service and to offer me a re-enlistment deal he thought was too good to turn down. During my time at the Pentagon it was common to see all types of Generals and Admirals with their assorted number of stars and stripes so this particular meeting was no big deal.
The offer was in return for signing-up for an additional three years, I would be offered the position of the Pentagon’s Army Liaison to the White House with an office in the building and an immediate promotion to Sergeant E-6. Without hesitation I thanked the General and declined the offer, explaining my wife was expecting our second child in May of that year and any future plans being considered was as a civilian, not soldier. The Watergate scandal was still two plus years away, and looking back, my mind tries to contemplate what I might have experienced in the White House had I taken the position. Would I have been asked to stay on in another capacity? Would I have been trained in the use of duct tape, flashlights and lock-picking. Would Liddy and I have become pals. Would Tricky Dick have met me, liked me and invited me to the residence? All real possibilities. Instead I would be honorably discharged, move to Albany NY and become and aspiring Firestone Tires assistant store manager. A good trade, all things considered.

Gerald Ford:

In 1976, I was in Memphis TN staying at the Holiday Inn’s flagship hotel to be the guest keynote luncheon speaker for five hundred municipal Risk Managers, and after giving my presentation I was rushing back to my room to change and head to the bar and as I came around the corner and seeing the elevator door beginning to close, I dashed past the doors into the elevator and startled the three men who had been waiting for the doors to close. One of them was President Gerald Ford, the second was entertainer and founder of St Jude’s Hospital, DannyThomas and the third gentleman was a member of the President’s security team who was reaching for his holstered firearm. Needless to say I was startled also and quickly apologized to one and all and explained where I had just come from and was in a hurry. The Secret Service Agent kept his hand on his gun while the President and Danny politely smiled but said nothing while I pushed the number six button. The seconds which then passed on the way to six seemed endless, but finally the elevator stopped, the doors opened and I clumsily offered “have a great day” and they were gone. I could not begin to imagine what they thought when I came whizzing into their private space, but thankfully I was not shot and later at the bar I regaled anyone who would listen my little adventure. And my mother was more impressed over Danny Thomas than President Ford, because she loved his TV show.

Today, we are fortunate to have a decent and kind President like the late Gerald Ford and currently ailing Jimmy Carter. Hail to all the Chiefs, and oh yes, “ have a great day”.

“Turn On Your Heartlight, Let It Shine Wherever You Go…”

It happened at a Halloween house party in 1974. My sister put on a record album by a performer I was unfamiliar with, but the entire group danced to every cut on the album. It was magical. Neil Diamond’s “Hot August Night” album had been recorded live at Los Angeles’ Greek theater the year before, and from the moment my wife heard these songs, she was a life-long fan. We went to see him on numerous occasions and sang along to almost every song performed. This album was out go to music when cleaning the house, weekend cooking and any time we wanted to just feel good.

On April 1, 1980, my wife Margi was told she had multiple sclerosis and for the next twelve years her health constantly and slowly declined. One of the only  constants during this time was her turning to Neil Diamond songs for comfort through the many exacerbations, tremors, seizures, and strokes…Song Sung Blue, Holly Holy, Play Me, and Longfellow Serenade to name a few. A boom box cassette player was always within reach to play whenever she wanted, which was often, especially at night prior to sleep. Upon her passing she told me many times, she wanted her ashes to be spread over water while Heartlight, The Story of My Life, Morningside, Cherry Cherry and others kept her company on her final journey. And so on an overcast but calm day, my children, my two best friends, the boat’s captain, and myself glided over the waters off the coast of Connecticut to say our final farewells while Neil Diamond’s Beautiful Noise(s) reverberated in the salty air.

All of this has come to mind often over the years, and most recently four days ago as I heard a number of his songs on his 82nd birthday. What a talent…what a gift he gives to so many people. and quite frankly I can’t imagine how more difficult those 12 years could have been without his music for comfort. “Funny thing, but you can sing it with a cry in your voice, and before you know, it get to feeling good, you simply got no choice.”

Once Upon a Time In Africa

[Author’s Note: I originally wrote this blog years ago after combining previous FaceBook posts from South Africa in 2008. For some long forgotten reason, I never published it and only re-discovered it earlier today. For my own anal-personality peace-of-mind, I am doing so now, in 2022]

1/28/08
2nd Day, 2nd Gin and Tonic, 2nd Glass of Wine

Trust me when I tell you that flying business elite is better than flying coach. Seven hours from Atlanta to Senegal (didn’t even know about stopping in Senegal-sp?). Stayed on plane for an hour while they vacuumed and security looked through our carry-on and lifted the seats. We weren’t supposed to stand in the aisle, so imagine having the middle seat in coach…awful. Then eight hour flight to Johannesburg; Peg and I took sleeping pills during second leg and slept five and six hours respectively. Checked into our hotel and immediately went to dinner at restaurant recommended by bellman. Went to Mandela Square (where he gave a famous freedom speech) and went to an authentic African restaurant where we tried various foods we had never heard of, and some favorites like Nann bread and lamb curry. This morning waiting for a flight to Kruger National Park (five million acres of preserve) some planes were being delayed because of a lack of fuel (are we having fun now). Fortunately our plane was gassed and off we went in a twelve seater for 90 minutes to land on a gravel runway and a land rover to our first accommodations, deep into the preserve where there are only six huts. After checking in we had twenty minutes or so before two guides took us into the bush…saw giraffes, lions, hippos, impalas, elephants (one pre-historically big) and on and on. Peg is in her glory. Stopped for gin and tonics and sunset overlooking a vast expanse of African plains…magical. Waiting for dinner and an early wake-up call at 5:30 AM tomorrow for another trek in the bush. So much to tell and so little time…as fate would have it, we are the only two guests at the number one rated safari lodge…needless to say we are getting above excellent service. They have arranged for us to sleep under the stars so we can hear sounds from animals that would like to devour us if they had the chance…more as time permits unless we are consumed……….@

1/29/08
Pause, Experience , Remember

The email title is written on a note to us from the manager, and it is very telling. After not leaving the Land Rover at all yesterday, this morning at 6 AM we walked into the bush where a python had been spotted. He was about six feet long and moved like a python should from the open into some medium sized brush. Our guide, Sheppard, showed us some animal tracks in the red soil and showed us some tracking tips to discover how fresh the tracks were. He actually uses this skill to venture off the trail in search of lions, or giraffes, etc. Then he teaches us to smell the air so we can tell we are getting close to a pride or herd. We spot fresh broken tree limbs on the road which is evidence that an elephant recently passed as sure enough , around a few turns we spot two elephants walking together while a third lone elephant is on the other side of a never-ending fence. She wants to join them but can’t figure out how. She will have a very long walk indeed because she is walking in Mozambique and her would-be friends are in South Africa. Very cool to be at the border even though the Mozambique side is not a nature preserve. We were in and out of the vehicle all morning exploring and it was good to walk the land. During a rest stop were treated to Mimosas and coffee and fruit and assorted cookies. Safaris are rugged…

This morning’s excursion will be the last one where we are the only guests with the guides. Today all six units will be filled. It was a treat to have the entire place to ourselves, considering this is the number one rated safari camp in South Africa. But I was especially glad there was nobody else here last night because of the embarrassing situation we found ourselves in…as I mentioned yesterday, we had the options to sleep on a bed outside on the deck under mosquito netting. The night was clear and the moon bright, so we went for it. Peg was ready for sleep and I was still in my regular clothing when we walked out to the deck to look at the bed. I closed the sliding glass door to keep creepy crawly whatever’s OUTSIDE, and when I tried to open the sliding door to come back inside, it was locked. Remember the visual of George Bush leaving a reception in, I think, China and the door was locked? Remember the expression on his face? I had the same exact expression! A lift up/push down security pin had slipped down into its slot and prevented the door from sliding. The staff had left us a air horn to use in case of an emergency, and I was forced to use it. Unbelievably loud and I told Peg that it won’t be hard to figure out who is using the horn since we are the only two guests at the moment Within minutes after waking all day creatures within a ten mile radius, an employee was there to open the door. The morning manager asked us at breakfast why we didn’t use the cell phone that was in a bedside silver canister that also contained a flashlight and insect repellent, and Peg said “Yes Alan why didn’t we?” Seems she never looked into the canister and took my word for what was inside…I never saw it………..but hey we’re here for adventure; so what if a teeny tiny almost invisible cell phone was hidden at the bottom………..I bet guests are locked out all the time.

I’m off now for a long hot soak and a nap before the afternoon bush excursion. I feel much smarter today thank you, except for the fact I keep forgetting my pictures to upload and send a few with emails………now let’s see, where did I put my room key??? @

1/30/08
Let’s Just Take A Walk

NOT! I don’t think I mentioned previously that even in camp, we need an escort from our unit to the main building for meals, meet-up, etc., both in the early morning and late afternoon and evening. The only time we can walk by ourselves is mid-day when the man-eating animals are taking a siesta. Yesterday when we were taking a nap, a group of baboons went through camp…they can walk anywhere they want at anytime…it’s OK. Our camp is right beside the Sweni River and this morning a Hippo was cooling off just in front of where we were sitting having coffee before heading out at six AM. Before breakfast we saw…kudu, wildebeests, zebras, giraffes, lions, impalas, cape buffalos, elephants, rhinos, hippos, baboons, giant snails, a baby crocodile, an eagle, vultures, a mongoose, a twenty foot python (the guide thought it was the parent of the smaller one we saw yesterday), waiting for us to leave so it could swallow a small impala it had just knocked off, a golden hornbill (bird) and a large assortment of other birds and insects.

I could tell you a story about last night at the end of dinner when somehow I managed to hook my two safari hiking boots together in such a way I could not stand up and our waiter had to go under the table to unhook them all the while Peg was trying not to be seen with me, but I’ll save that for when I have more time….more pictures and African adventures later as we leave Sweni tomorrow for a second camp (Hamilton’s) about a 2 1/2 hour drive from here ………..@

P.S. I tried to send four pictures but it was too large of an attachment so the computer informed me, so I next tried sending three, and that was too large. Same for two and one…I’ll wait until the next camp to try again with photos.

2/5/08
I Had a Home in Africa

… and until yesterday it was a tent on the Nwatswitswonto River, where the black mamba snake also makes his home in Africa…his poisonous venom splashed off my boot into the corner of my right eye when I started to hallucinate about being more attractive than George Clooney………so you can well understand the lack of communication. OK, so if you are skeptical, our second camp was not accessible to the internet. When we left Singita Sweni Camp and drove 90 minutes south to Hamilton’s Tented Camp (both of which are in the Krugar National Park, largest in South Africa) there was no internet, no phones, radios, or TV, which means Peg and I had the opportunity to take more time talking about each experience of the day, and read books, and communed with the exotic environment that surrounded us. This, my family and friends, is why the silence in recent days. We did actually have a Black Mamba cross the road in front of us, and I’m not kidding when I write that our tracker was afraid of this snake. He was also very cautious and nervous when a Mozambique Spitting Cobra appeared suddenly on the side of the road…look down for snakes…look straight ahead for elephants and zebras…look up for baboons and leopards.

Did I have any of you for at least two seconds? Probably not, as you are the best and the brightest.

Hamilton’s is on the Nwatswitswonto River and it was built to replicate the camps in the late 1880’s…think Out Of Africa style architecture, furnishings and clothing. The Krugar Park has 147 different types of mammals, 114 types of reptiles, 34 types of amphibians and 507 different birds. We barely began to scratch the surface. Our daily routine was generally up at 5:30 AM and off on safari until 9:30-10 AM. Then breakfast and free time for swims, massage, reading or sleeping until 4:30 PM when teas and sweets were served. At 5, we were off again on safari until 7:30-8 PM when upon return and freshening up, dinner and conversation till 10, when we were escorted to our tent (each tent has a hardwood floor and a frame construction so it doesn’t move, but the canvas top allows us to hear night sounds of various types till we drift off…sometimes I imagined a thousand eyes just staring at us). The night stars were brilliant without earthly competition as we gazed on the Southern Cross, Milky Way, and Orion. Spectacular.

At the first camp we enjoyed the company of a young newly-wed couple from NYC, and another couple our age originally from NYC, but now living in Florida. At the second camp we dined and went on safari with two couples, one from Lima, Peru and one from Toronto, Canada. The primary languages in S. Africa are English and Afrikaans, a combination of English, Dutch, and German, consequently is it very easy for almost anyone not to laugh at my jokes. One of the young men in charge of seeing to our needs took quite a bit of delight in telling us a nightly African folk story which usually had a humorous ending. His smile lit up the room with the proper appreciation we showed…little did he know I was silently thinking I wanted to do the stand-up while he sat there to eat.

Speaking of eating, I have to close to get ready to dine in a beautiful pan-Asian restaurant in Cape Town called Haiku. We arrived late last night after a flight delay out of Johannesburg. I have a wireless laptop in the room so expect more when time permits. Also eventual pictures if we ever slow down… @

2/6/08
Capetown Capers

I want to open and run a Guardian Ad Litem – WEST Office (really, really west)! It is incredibly beautiful. Arrived Monday night late due to delay in JO-berg and just went to the hotel. Yesterday we took a half-day city tour and then had lunch at Bukhara! Wonderful! Had Indian Nan, dal makhani (lentils), spinach palak, eggplant bhartha, potatoes aloo jeera, chicken tikka, and lamb vindoulu that was five star hot! I was still not hungry last night when we went to her sister restaurant, HAIKU, trendy pan-Asian, so just some dumplings, soup and a great South African chard.

Today had a full day tour to the Cape point, lunch at a fish place overlooking the Indian Ocean, place where jackass penguins hang and swim, but were too tired to visit K-stock botanical gardens. Peg’s napping while I type back at hotel. We have a beautiful view of downtown Cape Town, with Tabletop in plain view just to our right.

Going to a restaurant named GINGA tonight, 5 Flies tomorrow night, and BAIA on our last night. Have to get to Willoby’s still and to Sea Pit for a drink…but we will try. Tomorrow is a full day tour to two wine regions. Our personal guide looks like the rugby playing twin bother of Derek Jeter and his name is ……….Ishmael….I kid you not.

Going from the bush to an international city is quite dramatic on our senses…instead of the stars to twinkle for us…it’s the city lights off in the near distance. It is very, very windy this time of year, which has prevented us so far from taking the cable car to the top of Tabletop Mountain…hard to imagine that the view could be even more spectacular than it already is!

Final thought…S.A. has a major electricity problem and they are re-doing their infrastructure…this causes power outages which causes a lack of Internet capability…so this is still a hit and miss operation. Regards from the Deep South! @

2/6/08 I’m Not Lion

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Ok, this is from Peg, not Alan, but you probably would figure that out soon. I just wanted to tell you all about one of our more memorable nights in the bush.

We left for the evening drive around 4:30 with the honeymooners and the couple from Florida. Sheppard, the man with the rifle, was driving and Johnson was tracking. (The man from Florida was bitching as usual but he soon shut up.) Johnson spotted lion tracks and we went off road and found a pride of lions. They were lying around under bushes in the shade, which is what lions do most of the time. Johnson asked us how many we saw. We said, “7, no 9, wait there are 12, oh my god, there are more over there.” There were 19 young, healthy looking male and female lions. We watched a few and then we would move the land rover to watch others. I was afraid we would run over a lion since we drive right over the bushes and small trees. But Sheppard and Johnson have amazing eyesight. The lions aren’t really easy to see until you are on top of them. We watched them for about an hour and then the sun was beginning to set. Sheppard asked if we wanted to leave and have our usual ‘sundowners’ (gin & tonics) but we all voted to stay with the lions.

The sun continued to set and then the lions started to get up and stretch. They then began to move out, gradually more and more getting up, slowly heading in one direction. Sheppard asked if we wanted to follow. We all said yes. So he began to drive slowly, following the lions. We had to use the spot light and the low headlights (fog lights maybe?) since the sun had now set. There was another Land Rover who joined us and we would each follow, circling around and stopping at times to let other lions pass us. They were in front of us, behind us and next to us. The lions would hover just outside the glow of the lights, stop, stare at us and then move past. One walked close enough to my side of the land rover that I could have touched its back had I just let my arm drop to the side of the vehicle. That arm wasn’t actually near the side of the vehicle since I had squeezed closer to Alan when it became clear this lion wasn’t going to walk outside the light. But I could have touched it if I had had a death wish.

The lions are truly the King of the jungle. They don’t give ground to anyone…they stare at you with their yellow eyes and you freeze. The trackers and guides show them great respect. When they spot tracks for lions, they move inside the land rover; for all other animals they will have one person in the small front chair where they can spot the tracks before the wheels destroy to marks.

The lions were like a gang of young thugs, flexing their muscles and threatening everyone in their path as they slowly walked through the bush. They were on the hunt to cause violence to some lesser creatures. That is when the couple from Florida said they had to go back to camp to use the bathroom. The young couple also needed to but were willing to move to safe ground and pee in the bush. Alan and I were fine, or to be honest, all the fluids in our systems had seized up and we couldn’t have spit much less pee. So our tracking of the lions on hunt ended with a whimper but it was quite a rush for a couple of hours.

More stories to come…

2/6/08
Safari Snaps

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Safari Sheena multitasks with a sundowner gin & tonic while snapping 9 gigabytes worth of pictures so far.

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Meanwhile sideways safari guy keeps a vigilant watch for various varmints.

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Hippo howling at my awesome joke about two baboons that walk into a bar…

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Majestic Male Kudu’s thinking “what the dickens was that baboon joke all about???” Bush Kudu’s are hard to entertain.

Safari Dudess Multi-tasking a Sundowner While Snapping Elusive Big Game

2/7/08
Go Tell It on the Mountain

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Table Mountain is the key and certainly the largest landmark of Cape Town…as mentioned in an earlier communiqué the wind has kept us so far from taking a cable car to the top. But you can see the mountain almost everywhere you are in the city and it is truly magnificent. The first picture is of the mountain which was taken this morning from nearby Signal Hill. The second picture which shows a portion of the mountain was taken from the balcony of our hotel room yesterday morning. The third shows what happened yesterday afternoon when the Table got covered with a table cloth (clouds…they literally flow over the mountain until it’s covered. Almost looks like a waterfall, doesn’t it?)

Yesterday our driver took us to the southern tip of Africa to see the Cape of Good Hope where the Atlantic and Indian Oceans converge. It takes two of the strongest light houses in the world to allow ships to figure out where they are in relation to the tip. The entire area is quite an awesome sight.

Also witnessed Jackass Penguins at their favorite nesting place called Boulder Beach …I knew immediately they were of the Jackass variety when I saw of number of them wearing “Mike Huckabee” buttons………….bahdumebah!! Did I ever tell you about the time I saw two baboons walk into a Boulder Beach bar??

Today it was off to the wine country where we visited four wineries (some of them dating back to 1688) to taste a variety of sparkling, white and red vintages, including a blend called Pinotage which is only made in South Africa. Additionally we had lunch at an old French farm house overlooking the Franshoek region…postcard beautiful.

The last picture is of Peg and our escort Ishmael (really Derek Jeter enjoying the off-season) at the first stop this morning where we smelled, sipped and swallowed five different types of bubbly! Cheers……………@

2/7/08
Miscellaneous Pictures

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Winelands – Franachhoek Region

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Jackass Penguins – Their calls sound like the jackass animal

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Boulder Beach – Where the penguins live

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At the Cape

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Cape Point

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Hout Bay – Home to many sailboats and seals. Ironically most of the locals are scared of seals, hence they have…

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🙂

2/9/08
Zipping Along in Zambia

Yesterday was our last full day in Cape Town…spent the morning relaxing before an exhaustive afternoon of SHOPPING and I mean shopping! In addition to souvenirs, Peg had the inspiration that she is going to re-do a guest bathroom in…………….wait for it……………chic African. So she bought a number of items that will go into the bath after we paint the room to color coordinate with all the accessories. I’ve never seen her so happy while shopping…Peg was actually humming.

Dinner last night was on the waterfront at a very well known and respected seafood restaurant. I didn’t like the table they sat us at, and after mentioning it, was told the only table available would be one outside on a deck where a couple did not like their table because it was too windy (the same conditions that persisted for five days keeping us away from the top of Table Mountain). We went out and although all sides were glassed in, about every three minutes a gust of wind would blow that gave the impression we would all be swept off the deck into the harbor. But we wanted to be outside so we exchanged tables and everyone was happy. Twenty minutes later the harbor police pulled us from the water and we went right back up and tried again. Nah, that didn’t happen…actually it turned out very nice because halfway through a 2007 Hamilton Russell Chardonnay, the wind died down to about forty knots and it was quite pleasurable with a view of the harbor and downtown.

Before leaving for dinner, out boutique hotel rang the room and asked if we would like to have champagne and oysters before leaving, compliments of the hotel, so we took advantage of that and had the opportunity to meet and chat with the other guests. Very nice indeed.

Off this morning at 6:30 am to the airport to fly to Johannesburg, and then on to Zambia. In order to enter the country of Zambia, you have to have a visa…you get a visa by paying US Dollars at the point of entry. We were told the price had just recently dropped to $60/person. We had $200 cash on us, so we concluded that we would not need to get more US dollars before leaving Cape Town…so picture the only two American tourists at Zambia Customs when they tell us it is $135/per person. “No” is the answer to the question of their having an ATM machine at the airport. You have to drive into the town of Livingston to get an ATM and withdraw Zambian money to then take to a Zambian bank to exchange their money into US dollars. “No” is the answer to the question of whether a bank is open to exchange the currency, because today is Saturday and banks close early. I try to bargain with Zambian custom official to just hold my wife until tomorrow when I could come back with the money, but both the officials and my wife vetoed that suggestion. Finally another traveler overheard the conversation and noticed I’m sure the ever-increasing look of desperation in our eyes and said he would be happy to front the $70 dollars needed and we could repay him at the hotel. Turned out he is the chairman of a London owned mining company which has a nickel and plutonium mine her in Zambia and he travels frequently to check on the operation. We exchanged cards (I bet he Goggles “Guardian ad Litem”) and a plan was devised so we can repay him tomorrow for his kindness towards strangers. So we made it to the Royal Livingstone Hotel on the Zambezi River, about 150-200 yards upriver from Victoria Falls. We can see the mist it generates from just outside our room. We were informed that during the months of April through June, the mist can be seen as far away as 70 kilometers (If anyone knows how far that is, let me know please). This is not as exciting as the bush, but it will have to do for the next few days. Peg is currently at the Spa trying to forget about the near miss of sleeping at the simple airport overnight while I hunted for the elusive dollar bills…ahhhhh travel…………………..@

2/9/08
Kansas – Not

We have arrived in Zambia. We had a guide to get us from the airport to the Hotel and he insisted on giving us the historical highlights of Livingstone, which I think is the capitol of Zambia. The highlights included buildings built in 1951 and 1913. They are your basic run down buildings in an incredibly poor area. But it seems to be a wonderful country with kind and considerate people, who have a poor policy re visas and not much to see in the way of city life . The Royal Livingstone is quite the opposite, beautiful, serene and with all the creature comforts. I had both a manicure and a pedicure in the few hours before dinner. Alan is planning to have a massage on the river bank, in the open air tomorrow. He always goes for being naked in the jungle.

We had cocktails on the bank of the Zambezi River, watching the mist rise from the falls and the sun set to the west. It was spectacular. Don’t you just love the exotic sound of the name Zambezi? The river runs very fast just before it falls over the edge; it made me realize what danger Tarzan was in as he wrestled with the crocodiles and bad white men. Thank goodness for the tree vines. The monkeys (not Cheetah) were a nuisance stealing food right from people’s hands. The hotel has a man with a slingshot who chases them away. Not a job for people in the states but maybe a good one here.

One of the monkeys had a tiny baby which stole the lemon out of Alan’s cocktail; Alan tried to get a picture of the monkey family but the monkey was too quick as Alan sought the perfect setting on his camera. I will try to get him to send you monkey pictures in the future…I bet you can’t wait.

The Hotel also had a flautist playing old standards as we watched the sun set and I drank my Kir Royals; such a riot of sights and sounds. You certainly know you aren’t in Kansas anymore, although we did meet a boring couple from Michigan which while not quite from Kansas, we managed to escape, not by clicking our heels, but by clicking our tongues . That is what the Xhosa do when they speak; they click on certain syllables, and disappear. Not really but they do click.

Alan thought the falls were somehow associated with Victoria Secret but I explained that they were named for the former Queen of England and that this Livingstone is the same one Stanley presumed was around. Alan must have slept through that class, or was just daydreaming of being naked in the jungle one day. More to come…

2/11/08
Almost Adios to Africa

As the hours remaining in Africa dwindle, our thoughts and conversations are filled with images witnessed over the past fifteen days. I asked Peg if she could stay for another week, what would she choose, and without missing a beat she said she would continue on to Tanzania and go on safari to witness giant herd migrations across the Serengeti. I seconded the motion and gladly offered to be the bag carrier. So someday we would like to return to this continent for more adventures. Until then, we are content to return home to our family and friends and probably within a very short period of time, whenever we go into the extra bathroom and see African artifacts, our memories will surely return to this time and place. @

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Peg’s Favorite Animal In The Bush

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Table’s Top Will Have To Wait

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One of the Seven Natural Wonders

2/14/08
Happy Hippos

On the very first safari in Krugar National Park on January 28th, Peg captured two hippos kissing. Although South Africa’s hippos celebrate Valentine’s Day on September 26, I thought it appropriate to share today.
HAPPY VALENTINES DAY

2/19/08
After Africa

This morning before assuming my normal work activity, I need to take my last anti-malaria pill…the fifty-million acre Krugar Park we visited first, is a malaria area and we needed to take precautions…yesterday before leaving for Tallahassee, Peg thought she saw rhinos in the water behind our home…to say we still have Africa on the mind is an understatement. I realized that most of my previous emails didn’t really have too many pictures, and that most of you will not have the opportunity to visit and peruse the five thousand or so pictures we have (my latest count is Peg took six hundred pictures of lions). Thank goodness for digital! We narrowed down a slide presentation to currently four hundred and ninety-four pictures and bought much South African wine to help persuade invitees to remain seated and keep watching.
Below are a few more of my favorites to share before ending this Africa accounting. If an opportunity ever arises for you to visit Africa, we heartily recommend you go…we expect it’s soil, people, history, food, visual wonders, and especially its animals will always remain with us……………………………@

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2/21/08
OK, So Just a Few More

We appreciated all your enthusuastic comments about the emails…it was fun doing them even though at times it was frustrating trying to get pictures attached or just to have internet at all. When time permits we are going through the thousands of pictures to pick a manageable amount to print for an alblum and if when doing so, any good story comes to mind, I’ll share it via email. In the meantime, here are a few more ……………xoxo @

Bwana & Mrs. Bwana enjoying our first “Sundowners” in the bush.
It’s A Very Long Swim From Here To Anywhere

Another “sundowner” stop where I learned for the first time how to use the timer on my camera. Pictured left to right are a couple from Peru, our guide “Elvis”, the lovely and talented couple from Florida, and a couple from England standing in front of a tree that is over 2800 years old.

(p.s. Peg never stopped smiling for sixteen days…she smiled in her sleep…she smiled at 5 a.m….she smiled when she thought a lion might have her for a snack…)

“My crown is called content, a crown that seldom kings enjoy.” Shakespeare

One of the positive side-bar situations from this historic, crazy period is the time allotted to simply think. Recently my thoughts contemplated the differences between “relaxed” and “content” and excepting those too highly personal moments to openly share, I thought about past moments I have found a strong sense of contentment at interesting places: at a Buddhist temple in Bangkok, falling asleep under an African sky, twice in Greece, a seaside taverna in Paros plus a most spectacular sunset on Santorini, on the porch at Hydrangea Hill, many family gatherings at my Florida home’s dinner table and lastly, every single time in the past when I’ve been fortunate enough to hold and smell a baby.

Think about your own contentments and if you’re lucky like me, you will sit back a little more comfy, breathe a little more deeply, and smile a little more easily.

Jade Buddha

South Africa

Paros

Santorini Sunset

Hydrangea Hill

Family & Friends Florida Gathering Place

Baby Granddaughter Simone

How I Met Tito’s Vodka And What Happened Next

Today’s Philadelphia Inquirer has an article about what alcoholic beverages Pennsylvanians’ purchased in the month of March as Covid-19 started to take hold and restrictions became real. It appears the good citizens of the Keystone state love their cinnamon, especially when added to whiskey and put into $1/ airplane-size bottles; they also love whiskey made by the Irish, because hey, during a pandemic, everyone is Irish; and above all, Pennsylvanians love their Tito Vodka. Vodka in general is probably the most mixable hard liquor as it goes with just about anything; the only liquid in which it didn’t work for me was when I mixed it with my colonoscopy prep solution. but it’s possible the disappointment came from the fact I couldn’t add ice to the solution, which always leaves satisfaction wanting.

I first came familiar with Tito’s vodka in the early 2000’s. I had traveled to Florida’s Panhandle to attend training in the mortgage lending business and was returning home to southeast Florida by way of a three hour layover in Atlanta. On the initial plane I had read an article on how good a restaurant was on Concourse E, at Atlanta Hartsfield’s International Terminal. Upon landing, I headed straight-away to “One Flew South” and was not disappointed.  There was one seat left at the bar and upon getting settled I asked the bartender what were my choices of vodkas. Tito’s was mentioned, and never hearing the name before, I asked about it. “Craft vodka from Austin Texas…unsurpassed quality”. I must have hesitated before ordering because the woman I was sitting next to (subsequently learning her name was Maria),  recommended I try it, as it was her favorite and pointed to her vodka and tonic sitting on the bar. I did and agreed with her that it was very tasty. That started a brief conversation until Maria had to leave to go to her departure gate. I ordered dinner and a second V & T and when finished, headed via the underground transport to my flight’s terminal. Eventually on board, reading, in my normally preferred aisle seat, I heard “excuse me, I have the window seat.” I looked up and saw Maria looking down at me and smiling…the same Maria I had briefly met at the bar, was on the same plane, on the same aisle as myself. I mean, what are the odds when you consider the sheer size of Atlanta’s airport. As it turned out, the middle seat went unoccupied and we started a longer conversation and eventually got around discussing what we both did for a living. I told her I was a mortgage lender in West Palm Beach…Maria said she was a mortgage lender in Miami! No, REALLY, what are the odds. She went on to explain her specialty was financing mortgages for migrant workers, and she was always busy, and from what I guessed, very successful. I told her my specialty was financing any live, breathing clients who could qualify for a mortgage. The flight passed quickly and upon arriving back in Florida, we wished each other all the best and I never saw Maria again. Unlike Maria however, my experience as a mortgage lender did not turn out so well; I never acquired the drive necessary to be successful dealing with a generally mercurial temperaments of more than a few real estate agents, and I also never developed the discipline necessary to work alone from home. I made no money that year but was always thankful I had the opportunity to try.

What I did get out of the whole experience was the introduction to Tito’s Vodka which to this day is still a favorite, the discovery of perhaps the best airport restaurant in the country, which I have since revisited many times, and to experience a serendipitously coincidental set of encounters with a woman named Maria, which now is a forever story to share. So grab your Tito’s, think about life getting better, and Cheers!

Mixing The Beatles With Pavarotti

Little did I know last night when I left for the local movie theater on a sweltering summer’s evening, what a strange and wonderful musical treat I was about to experience. I seem to like all movies associated with English director, producer and screen writer Danny Boyle and “Yesterday’s” concept sounded like fun…during a catastrophic event, only one man on earth knew who the Beatles were; and that man also happens to be a struggling songwriter. You’ll enjoy all the familiar music and lyrics and I especially enjoyed the treat of hearing again my favorite Lennon/McCartney song, “In My Life”. For a couple of air-conditioned hours I got lost in this romantic comedy fantasy and when the credits finally rolled, most, if not all of the audience clapped enthusiastically. For summertime fun, I heartedly recommend this romp.

Upon exiting the theater, we noticed that Ron Howard’s ” Pavarotti” would begin it’s last showing of the evening in fifteen minutes, and since we were already humming Beatles songs walking out, we decided to see that also. We were not dissappointed.  The musically gifted Pavarotti had a most amazing life to go along with his most amazing voice; a voice perhaps never to be duplicated again. Like many, I remember getting acquainted with him during the live performance of “The Three Tenors” in 1990. As I type this, tomorrow, July 7th, will be the 29th anniversary of that momentous collaboration. It also was the first time I ever heard Pavarotti’s signature song, Nessun Dorma from Puccini’s “Turandot”. The movie was a terrific documentary of his life, with all the ups and downs. Unfortunately there were only twelve patrons in the theater. Good news was that we were the oldest, and it was nice to see an asisan couple with two young sons watching. Bravo.

Every time I hear Pavarotti I am reminded of a long ago deceased radio listener and fan when I was a talk radio host in Florida’s Panhandle during the late nineties. Once a month, Tony would invite me over to his house and he would cook a great Italian lunch, usually some sort of pasta. He always played operatic music that featured tenor singers, which obviously included the great Pavarotti. These were wonderful get-togethers with great conversation, food, wine, and of course music. Unfortunately Tony passed away about seven months after we began these lunches, but I still remember…and in his memory every time I cook Italian, I put on Nessun Dorma, lift my glass of wine to the nearest window, and toast Tony and his big, generous personality.

If not done so already, treat yourself to either one or both of these summer movies and get away from the all the noise of everyday life.  Your spirit will be moved, uplifted, and in all likelihood, your gait will have a noticeable spring to it as you walk back out into reality.

 

 

A Fathers Day Remembrance

A few days before his 60th birthday, my father passed away after a short illness. The year was 1970 and I was five hours away by car and didn’t make it in time to say goodbye. Not that there was much to say as there was little conversation between us during the seven years after I went off to college and his untimely death. Dad was a man of few words. He told me only once that I had to find out about life by living and learning from my mistakes, so it didn’t matter what he advised.

Born in 1911, he and his two teenaged brothers living in South Philadelphia became pool and ping pong hustslers during the depression to help their parents out. He would remain an excellent pool player and shark the rest of his life

In 1933, he and his two brothers concocted a scheme and made the first payment towards a new Ford roadster to travel to Chicago for the Century of Progress Exposition. Once there, they eventually ran out of money and drove the entire way back to Philadelphia by going from gas station to gas station draining hoses of unspent fuel. Once home, they never made a second payment on the car and it was finally repossessed. Their plan worked.

Prior to World War II, Dad joined the Merchant Marines and sailed all over the world, learning assorted crafts along the way, especially mechanical drawing. He loved to make things after drawing up the specifications. When the war came along, he joined the Coast Guard and was headquartered out of the Philadelphia Naval Yard. I am proud that all during those years, the United States was never invaded anywhere near Pennsylvania or New Jersey. Thank you Dad for your service. After the war he continued working at the Yard, heavily involved in building new ships. A few years ago I discovered a newspaper article from 1953 where he was specifically mentioned by the base Commander for his due diligence and hard work on a large ship project. He must have been so proud. Once during that same time period, he took me to a special commisioning of an aircraft carrier which included a short cruise on the Delaware River. The day was clear and sunny; not a cloud in the sky. The carrier was completely decorated with flags; there was a band playing patriotic songs and much to my father’s horror, on the deck was the young son of George Billingsley throwing up from seasickness on an aircraft carrier doing about four knots in calm waters. Dad was not proud, but I discovered that I would never follow his merchant marine footsteps.

Also in 1953, I was nine years old with two older sisters; one seven years my senior and the second sister was nine years apart. Often the story was told and retold that when I was born, my backyard was filled with neighbors as my father walked out onto the porch holding me above his head with outstretched arms. “Behold my son” or something like that and the gathering roared its approval. My sisters cringed. Over the ensuing years I realized my father became much less enamored by me. I took no interest in his love of tools to fix any conceivable broken object. I was a jittery child with a short attention span that found it impossible to either hand him the correct requested tool, nor could I even hold a flashlight on the exact spot where he was working. “Boy!” he yelled, (Dad always called me Boy when he was frustrated or angry with me.) “if you can’t do a simple thing to help me, go away.” And I did.

When I was teenager, I remember Sunday afternoons riding with him to discover new bars where he would order only one shot of whiskey, note the size of the shot glass in a little black book (he loved to make notes for future reference of fun places with healthy pours and lively pool tables) and try to hustle up pool games by challenging anyone to play after promising to make every shot a bank-shot. He found lots of takers…he never lost. But unfortunately he never took me with him again after one particular excursion; the one when as I was watching him, I leaned against a Jersey establishment’s front glass panel and somehow fell backwards through it, shattering glass everywhere! Suddenly Dad picked me up by the back of my shirt, asked if I was alright, and immediately took off to the car for our getaway from having to pay repair costs. We made a clean escape but that ended my bar-hopping escapades.

When I began junior high school, Dad encouraged me to try out for the JV football team. I tried it and hated it. I was injured one day during a tackling exercise, and was told by an orthopedic doctor only six years ago that the cause of my newly diagnosed spinal stenosis was most likely caused by fracturing a small bone that day so many years earlier on the football field. “Thanks Dad” was my first immediate sarcastic thought after the diagnosis. Back then I quit the football team and shortly thereafter joined the first ever co-ed cheerleading team. I “lettered” in cheerleading in my senior year and proudly displayed it on my new “letter sweater”. My father was not impressed. Also in my senior year I was voted Class Clown and when my father read that in my yearbook, I made up a story using all my powers to sound convincing…”Dad, actually I was voted two honors: 1) Most Likely To Succeed and 2) Class Clown. The school has some silly rule about not being able to have more than one title, and because I had slightly more votes as Class Clown, that was the one I would claim.” I held my breath. He wasn’t buying it. He closed the yearbook. handed it to me and told me to go away. It was never discussed again. College was on the horizon and my poor father hung all his hopes on the dream that I would be the first family member to graduate from college. I lasted three years accumulating a whopping ..6 average out of a four point system which led to my not being invited back. I never had the courage to tell him but waited until the letter arrived one day announcing the situation. Looking back, I knew I was smart enough, but college was not where I wanted to be so I took the lazy, slow, painful way out.

The Philadelphia Navy Yard officially closed in 1967 and Dad was laid off prior to its closing. It was extremely difficult and frustrating to him trying to secure decent employment after any prospective employer found out he had not graduated from high school. He could do almost any mechanical engineering task, but without the proper diplomas, no one would consider his life learned skills. Consequently Dad fell into a deep and long-lasting depression. He drank more and more, and started to have episodes of not being able to deal with reality. He became paranoid towards his family. Hospitalizations followed, some voluntary and some not, where he underwent shock therapy, and by 1969, he was only a shell of the man he once was. (As an aside, I never could watch completely the movie “One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest” because of the harrowing depictions of shock treatments at state-run facilities.)

The death certificate read “pneumonia” as cause of death, but it really was a combination  of low self-esteem magnified by years of alcohol abuse and in the end just giving up after being left in almost a zombie-like trance after all the hospital stays.

I was 26 years old when he passed and am now approaching my 75th; every year after my 60th birthday I have thought of him, realizing just how young he was at 60 and how much time was robbed from us both by not being able to see and talk to one another.

So I end this as Fathers Day, 2019 ends and a new day begins.  I am writing and thinking about my father who somehow through it all gave me a base upon which to carry on for so long, learning from all the good and bad decisions made during my lifetime and trying to be a man that he would approve and like. I think he would, and that makes for an enlightened understanding and that allows me to smile.

 

 

Auld Lang Syne

“For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne.
We’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.”

Growing up, I spent every New Year’s Eve at a relative’s house party for family and friends. After the stroke of mid-night and hugs and kisses had been shared, everyone sang “Auld Lang Syne” . I had no understanding of the meaning, as this was a singing family anyway, but it was very comforting.
Seems that the 18th century Scottish poet Robert Burns first penned the words and attached them to a popular melody of the time and submitted it for publication. Later he would write a poem about it.
“We’ll take a cup of kindness yet” was the act of men and women drinking with each other to celebrate old memories and their friendships in general. Over the centuries the song evolved to be especially popular at New Year’s, funerals, graduations, and other social events.
“Auld Lang Syne” has lost some of its popularity in the 21st Century, but for me, today’s expanded version of the meaning just might very well be FaceBook, and Twitter, and my blog “Moving On”. These provide us all with an opportunity to see on a daily basis what we are doing, thinking, and sharing, especially anything pertaining to animals. 😽 And it does so not only for the present, but for years past courtesy of F.B.’s “On This Day”. Our very own “cup of kindness yet” in digital glory.
I’m not embarrassed to say how important it is for me to see, learn, laugh, cry, and generally admire each of you and the ability to know what’s makes your world, in the words of the Chairman of the Board, go ring-a-ding-ding. It also provides me with daily opportunities to express to you all my imagination in assorted ways that make me happy, and as a bonus, hopefully add a smile or two to you all.
2016 had its fair share of glorious moments, but taken in totem, I’m very much willing to let it go in anticipation of new possibilities in 2017. Looking forward to continuing this magnificent life with you by my cyber-side. HAPPY NEW YEAR !! Love, Alan