Songs About Dads: A morning stream of consciousness

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I awoke this morning thinking about my older daughter’s children. Though she lives down the block, this Covid has kept us a million miles apart. She sent out a photo of the kids and I realize they are growing and I do not know them any more.

It got me to thinking about the distance I had with my own dad. I was a disappointment to him; my being uncoordinated and left -handed. The worst thing you can tell a child is what a disappointment they are to you. He had such high hopes about me learning and enjoying sports as much as he did in his youth. I was his first born son! It was a disaster. I failed him and it hurt me. I grew to hate the words “Come on son lets toss the ball around.” All I ever felt was performance pressure and his impatience with my “lack of natural abilities”. Holding a golf club, hitting a or throwing a baseball, putting the spin on a football, all became areas of severe panic attack for me. Lord! He would get so frustrated with me. I rejected all and anything to do with sports my entire life, it was such a stressor. Luckily in a way, he was a work-aholic. A food vendor salesman he was always busy with work on the road or buried in the basement “office” till midnight with spreadsheets and sales call. With sports bonding gone, Dad had no real use for me. No way to connect.

I was more the artiste. A writer, soul searcher, poet. I wrote songs and poems and plays and movie scripts that never came to fruition. I learned to play guitar which was perhaps my only saving grace in High School. Had I not played guitar I would have had zero sense of an ability to accomplish or contribute anything to the world. Later I would become a journalist. Growing up, I was a difficult child. Non-compliant. Troubled. Always getting into mischief. Just a goofy looking mis-fit. The class clown. Never aggressive, angry or destructive. Never a bully. I would burst into tears before ever considering throwing a punch. It drove my dad nuts. “Be a MAN! Wait until they get you in the Army!”

Growing up, lyrics from pop songs about fathers would resonate with me.

“How can I try to explain? When I do he turns away again. It’s always been the same old story” – Cat Stevens: Father and Son.

or the song by Sandra and Harry Chapin, Cat’s in the Cradle

“When you coming home dad, I don’t know when, But we’ll get together then. You know we’ll have a good time then.”


These songs spoke to me. You should listen to them.


I am profoundly aware that my relationship with my first-born daughter is much like the one I had with my dad. Both, mostly distant. Filled with anger and / or disappointment. It is never easy to describe the canyon. So the lyrics from a 1988 song (A year after my oldest daughter was born) by Mike and the Mechanics strikes several chords. “The Living Years” opens with a very prophetic verse”


Every generation blames the one before
And all of their frustrations come beating on your door
I know that I’m a prisoner to all my Father held so dear
I know that I’m a hostage to all his hopes and fears
Wish I could have told him in the living years

I did tell my dad, in a father’s day card in 1978 after I had achieved some success as a journalist, that I appreciated that many of the good traits I had, were because of him. It was sent in the mail. But it put me at peace to have said something I needed to let him know over all the years of friction and distance. In a sense I did tell him I was okay and he was a part of that okay-ness , “in the living years”. So I am at peace in that department. I would learn later after he passed, that his own passion was to become a sports writer/ journalist. I found some of his High School newspaper articles. He was a great writer, with unrealized dreams.

Oddly perhaps, my younger daughter with whom I do have a closer relationship, was a sports junkie of sorts. I encouraged (not pushed) lots of sports activities with her. Saturday Soccer. In the videos you can hear me cheering louder than any other parent (maybe because I was holding the camera). I was the single parent to her in Middle School and up. Unlike my own dad who was always buried in his work, I would leave my job early. I tried to attend everything she did. Almost every basketball, soccer, volleyball game and most of the swim and track meets. I honestly believe her interest in sports and my cheering from the sidelines, kept her away from drugs and gangs to a degree. Not that she wasn’t just a bit non-compliant like her dad… but I want to think “being there” being close, made a dribble of a bit of difference for her.

The important message here is that despite my own deeply ingrained loathing and pain associated with all things sports, I pushed past it so as to not carry the “damage” down another generation. I barely knew any of the rules of the games my daughter played in. But no one cheered louder than me. It was important to her, so it was important to me. The cat in the cradle lyric would not be repeated by me to my children. I would have given anything to have developed such a similar rapport with my older daughter too. God must have a different plan there.

Another prophetic oddity worth noting: my wife and I had been trying in vain to conceive a second child for several years. I mention that only because we had become keenly aware of every attempt. We had decided to give up trying if it didn’t happen before 1992. My father passed away just before midnight in California, Nov,21, 1991. My daughter was conceived around 10 PM Central time the same night. I know… chills right? God doesn’t close one door…

The final verse in The Living Years goes like this:

Well, I wasn’t there that morning when my Father passed away
I didn’t get to tell him all the things I had to say
I think I caught his spirit later that same year
I’m sure I heard his echo in my baby’s new born tears
I just wish I could have told him in the living years

I am not convinced my littlest girl is my dad reincarnate, but I do catch his spirit in her at times. Sometimes when it is cold, she wears his old ski hat with his name Jim embroidered on it. She sent me a photo recently and warmed my heart.


And so ends this morning’s stream of consciousness about fathers and kids.


If any of this is of interest to you I encourage you to listen to these songs.

They are burned into my brain.

One final note: I only knew the songs I have never seen the videos before this writing.

If you have not heard these songs before, Please listen once before you watch. The video detracts from the message sometimes.

Father and Son https://www.youtube.com/watch?reload=9&v=P6zaCV4niKk
Cat’s in the Cradle https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EUNZMiYo_4s

The Living Years https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5hr64MxYpgk



About the songs.

https://www.songfacts.com/facts/harry-chapin/cats-in-the-cradle
https://www.smoothradio.com/features/the-living-years-mike-and-the-mechanics-meaning/

The Santa Suit

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A holiday sharing of joy among my friends

I sometimes privately lament that my marriage didn’t work out, that my bed is empty, that I did not save well for retirement, that my body is getting older, slower, less mobile and more painful to operate.  The things I coulda, woulda, shoulda, done better.  I am also aware the holiday season can be difficult when you think of those who are now gone. “The good old days”.  “The way it used to be”.  Allow me to share in contrast, the past few days of experiences I have had this holiday season. Some good tidings. Some great joy.

I was ahead of the game this holiday season.  I had already wrapped gifts and made a big ol’ batch of my favorite sausage stuffing for a Seniors potluck at my local YMCA community center. I meet there several times a week for water aerobics with folks who are older than I.  People with even more challenges than myself.  They are joyous and filled with warmth and caring. We laugh… oh boy do we laugh. We carry on like kids in a playground! I might be one of the bigger culprits of that last part, to be honest. But they are my inspiration.

I have gotten rather round over the years and I am battling that as well. On Wednesday I received an email asking me to help the Y distribute gifts that had been collected for a less than fortunate public-school population nearby.  It came with barely 24 hours’ notice.  The fella who was Santa was unable to make it this year.  I jumped at the chance to put on a Santa suit and help.  I rearranged a few things and went over to try on the suit.  It was amazing how it transformed me.  I didn’t even recognize myself!  So now I find myself practicing my Ho-Ho-Ho’s at stoplights. Thank the Lord for tinted windows.

I decided to put on most of the outfit before I drove over, leaving the thick, long caped jacket off until I arrived at the school. Sure enough, there were kids nearby when I parked so I had to try to get the rest of the ensemble on before I exited my vehicle.  But I forgot my seatbelt was on when I slid my arms into the heavy red robe. Picture a heavy-set man with a bad shoulder that day, in a compact car tangled in a seatbelt and a Santa suit trying fruitlessly to get liberated from the mess.  I stopped and had to laugh at the imagined headline: “Santa found lifeless, tangled in a Hyundai near children’s schoolyard days before Christmas.”

I opened the car door and got righted around without being discovered.  I entered the school and the show was on.   As I walked down the hall to the event, kids in classrooms could see me and began waving with dropped jaws!  When I waved my white gloved hand back at them, they would giggle and jump and tug on their neighbor and point!

As I entered the cafetorium (a combination of cafeteria and auditorium) I saw a dozen or more folks loading hundreds of wrapped gifts onto tables. My local Y had collected what seemed like a gazillion gifts for others with their “Angel Tree”.  It was Love in Action and

I got to be a part of it!   How cool is that?!  I was nothing but honored to participate.

I was given a chair on the stage.  Miss Len, the project coordinator handed me a microphone and asked me to use it to say Ho-Ho-Ho from time to time. I knew I would not need a microphone for that. I watched as the room was transformed by these dedicated “elves” into a Holiday Wonderland in under an hour!

Now across the stage; a line of the most precious children you might ever meet, waiting for their moment with Santa.  My Spanish is poor at best.  My helper Steven would ask them, “English or Spanish?” My gesture to come hither would be joined with my hearty “Hello” or “Hola”.

At first, I thought many of them were scared.  But I soon realized it was sheer Awe! They looked deeply into my eyes and saw I was “real”.  Voices were timid. I would put my arm on their shoulder and pull them closer for the photo. 

I quickly learned “Say Cheese” is an international phrase.  We said cheese and parents snapped photos and videos.   I heard the desire for bicycles and telephones, hover-boards, Hot-Wheels and all things Frozen (but only Elsa, mind you).  I either responded with “We will see” or “Bueno”.  I would tell them not to forget my cookie and send them off with either a “Merry Christmas” or a “Feliz Navidad”.   And the next one would approach.

The real magic happened when a little boy or girl would impulsively hug me. It was as if it was all they had been waiting to do.  Parents and teachers would “aww” and snap photos.  Inside my suit, I melted.  I am an old man with limited mobility who cannot do many of the things I could in my youth.  But suddenly I was not only valued, but treasured!  The Ho-Ho-Hos now came easily.

Joy filled the room.  I watched as they opened their gifts.  They could not believe they were getting such things.  Before the 3 o’clock bell brought things to an end, a teacher brought 3 precious girls up who had made Christmas tree artwork.  They wanted Santa to have them rather than take them home. Steven explained to them, that I would hang them in my office at the North Pole right near my desk so I could always see them.

Now the great room was empty, the crew set about cleaning up.  Wade one of the Y Directors, escorted me down the halls where the children were lined up to get ready for pick up or to board the buses to head home.

Yet more joy.  High fives, fist bumps, more hugs as I ran the gauntlet to the parking lot.  I remarked to Wade “and here I thought it would have been cool to be one of the Beatles, way back when!”  This had much more value.

It is days later. The suit neatly hung back on hangers and returned to the Y. I have 3 Christmas tree posters in my room. And a warmth in my heart that just won’t go away.

I’ve just had the pleasure of having 3 of my grands over for our annual Polar Express movie night. As my daughters dropped them off, I was able for a moment to hug my daughters and their mom in a group hug.  Again, I melted. We played the part of Peanuts Christmas video where Linus talks about the birth of Christ. We had pizza.  Once the “grown-ups” were gone, we made hot chocolate like in the film. We baked cookies. We talked about ghosts and angels and when grown-ups die.  Little missy announced she never wanted me to go because I am the “best Grampa ever”.   We remembered those we have lost in our family and spoke about family and what we love the most.

These are the good old days.

It’s not about stuff. It’s about human connections.  Time shared.  Listening and encouraging.

I am blessed beyond words. Thank you, Lord.  Not every holiday is joyous for everyone. I have certainly had some dark ones. But there are also some wonderful ones.  Like those kids in that cafeteria, who had perhaps never seen so much wonderment, I am here to tell you, give a little of yourself.  Year round. When you least expect it, when you think the best is all in the past, you very well may discover;

The best is yet to come…

… if you can just get out of your seatbelt.

Happy Holidays and a wonderful New Year to all.

Aloe for Joint Inflammation and Digestion

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For a long time I had one or two fingers that would lock in a half closed position. I could pull or “pop” the finger back to “straight” but it always invovled a serious degree of pain. The condition is called “Trigger finger” Trigger finger is also known as stenosing tenosynovitis (stuh-NO-sing ten-o-sin-o-VIE-tis). It occurs when inflammation narrows the space within the sheath that surrounds the tendon in the affected finger. If trigger finger is severe, your finger may become locked in a bent position.

In my work with the hearing impaired I ran into one senior citizen who told me once: “Sonny-boy, you just take a shot of tequila int he morning and one at night and you will have noo pain.” I grinned and noted if I had one at lunch time too I’d be happy all day! My tequila drinking days are far behind me so I chuckled and didn’t give it another thought. Two months later another woman mentioned 2 ounces of Aloe Vera in the morning and again in the evening would alleviate the pain. She said it was not yummy and to mix it with orange juice to get it down.
Well I tried the Wal-mart version and nothing on this planet would get it down.

I learned of a Doctor George Warren from Houston’s medical center who had a laboratory in Waco Texas. They manufacture “George’s Twice Distilled aloe vera juice“.
A gallon jug lasted about a month and cost less than a dollar a day. It was like spring water! It needed no refrigeration (but I put a quart bottle in the fridge anyhow). So much less pain when unbending my finger.

So I decided after a while, that I was just kidding myself. I stopped taking it and in 3 days all the pain was back!

Warren Labs web site notes “Aloe has been used for centuries to help in maintaining a healthy digestive tract.” But for me, the inflammation in my joints was relieved as well. I thought about it. Tequila is made from cactus, a succulent plant. Aloe Vera which is also good for burns is also a succulent . It made sense. Eventually I got a simple surgery and all is well now with my fingers.

Here is the link to Warren Labs and you can also find it at most health food stores and some Whole Foods locations as well as Amazon.

I hope you find this helpful.

Apple Cider Vinegar

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Mixing the right kind of Apple Cider Vinegar with a beverage or water & honey, may be a smart idea for some folks.  In August of 2019 my “Morbid” obesity got to be too much for me. I topped 300 lbs! (304 to be exact)  Even with  water aerobics 3 times a week, getting up out of a chair or couch was a struggle.  My blood pressure was too high and I knew I had to do something.  Changing what and how much I ate was unavoidable.  A dear friend had extolled the value of apple cider vinegar  for some time in her diet. I did some research and then added it to my regimen. Along with diet changes,  I lost almost 10 lbs in a month.  A side benefit  was the end of a nagging ear infections that nothing else seemed to have taken care of.    I drink it through a straw to spare my tooth enamel. Check with your health provider.  Here is my research.

Info-AppleCiderVinegar

COQ10 Research

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As my first entry in my new Health category some information about a supplement called CoEnzymeQ10.  If you take  a “statin” medication for high cholesterol this might be of interest.

As always, check with your health provider before you try something new. I hope you find this helpful.

InfoCOQ10

 

Link

I saw a good news story this weekend that touched me deeply.
It may seem a bit Pollyana-ish (is that a word?) of me to assume that a single high school organized club or group could change the world. We live in a world of Columbine, Las Vegas and the Sutherland Springs massacres which seemed so senseless. Equally heartbreaking is the spiraling number of youth suicides attributed to bullying. We scratch our heads and wonder, how could we have reached out to these people before things got so bad? What could be done to change things?
So when I saw Continue reading →

Strange Ways

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I have to admit my Baptism in 2012 has made many changes in me. Washing away the sins of the past brought me to learning to forgive others who caused me and mine hurt. It has been a process rather than an event. And so I file today’s observations under “the Lord works in strange ways” department.

I now have the blessing of living with my five year old grandson and his mom. He is very affectionate, but also headstrong, extremely defensive and he knows that he is right…Always. Needless to say, he is struggling to learn to fit in.

In many respects he reminds me of me as a boy of his age, and in some ways he is very different. We both have loving hearts. We have both been social misfits. The school yard, playground and lunch room can be very cruel places. As I work with him to integrate more in school and socially, I am having the odd realization that I too have been Continue reading →

My First Best Friend

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Some words for my first best friend.

I had a dear friend growing up. Just one. But he changed my life in dramatic an unforgettable ways.  I met Don Edward Martello who lived 2 blocks away from me in Flushing Queens New York when I was about 9 or 10 years old. He was a character for sure. My early years were tough. I was awkward goofy and a target for lots of bullying and emotional abuse. I had zero confidence. Having Don Martello as my best friend was an incredible saving grace.  A sterling example of divine intervention for me.

He wasn’t big on school, nor was I. But he was incredibly inventive and creative and inspired that in me as well. From lemonade stands to an 8mm a silent movie theater in his basement. We built an elaborate puppet stage where we performed the Sorcerer’s Apprentice to a Disney record. We built a radio station in his backyard shed that broadcast music to the neighborhood by a 12 inch speaker mounted to the top of a basketball pole. We were always “making” something. Usually media related. His dad once found and brought home a beautiful but broken full sized RCA Victrola from the 1920’s (a record player). We restored it and got it working with vacuum cleaner belts! We also restored a canary Yellow 67 Dodge R/T. Muscle cars were all that in 1969 on our street corner. We would pour over electronics catalogs, Lafayette and Radio Shack books, for hour. We took things apart and learned to solder things together. While the other kids were sometimes rough and often even cruel with me, Donald was a steadfast friend.

Donald and his Italian family (Sicilian, they want you to know!) embraced me and gave my tough year’s,  depth and purpose. His grandfather Vincent had the gift of gab. Another character. He would strike up a conversation with anyone and everyone. “Hello young fella!” was one of his many opening lines. We would go to his grandparent’s property in the Catskill Mountains in the summer.  Great memories and experiences.

But it was music that spoke to both our souls. We embraced music with a passion. The “British Invasion” Beatles , Stones, Manfred Mann. Locally, we would go to see, The Young Rascals, The Hassles (an early band with Billy Joel) , Barnaby Bye, Vanilla Fudge and later out of Greenwich Village, The Blues Project. Their keyboardist Al Kooper went on to form Blood Sweat and Tears. They were all bands with dynamic keyboards. Our mutual appreciation of music took root. We would play 45’s for hours and then albums. And the advent of stereo and quadraphonic sound.(Early surround sound)  Don started keyboard, organ lessons.

Donald actually talked my parents into giving me guitar lessons which he took in a class with me with rented guitars. He was insistent that I learn to play guitar. Brother Bobby sometimes played drums. For Christmas he convinced my parents to buy me my first electric guitar and amplifier. My dad was a very frugal man.  Talk about a hard sell… I don’t know how he did that, but he was always a charmer. We studied and played and practiced. I would learn the opening lead riff for the Stones “Last Time” from the local good Humor Ice Cream man one summer. I could play (at one time) almost every Beatle song recorded. We were in local “garage” bands. I had found a purpose and he had too. For him it became a lifelong career. I remember the instruments. His dual keyboard Compact Farfisa portable organ.  Eventually a Hammond B-3 and full Leslie cabinet. Think Deep Purple’s Hush, Spencer Davis Groups, Gimme Some Loving and Vanilla-Fudge, You Keep Me Hanging On. Listen to those songs and you may hear what inspired Donald. The sound of that spinning Leslie speaker shifting from slow to fast or back always evokes memories of him and that infectious smile.  His feet dancing over the bass pedals and his face expressing every bit of the music he passionately made. He would look straight into you with a wry grin as he switched the spinning Leslie speaker from slow to fast!  Donald at the keyboard was always an amazing, lovable, energetic, character.

We had a “wedding” band, The Don Edwards Trio. We played all the “Blue Book” standards of the day. I learned to play by ear and follow and accompany him wherever he would lead. We also played rock and roll with a larger band at the Soldiers, Sailors and Airmen’s Club at 283 Lexington Avenue in Manhattan on alternate Saturday nights. We built lighting cabinets that appeared to sync with the music on stage. Don was a showman among showmen.

In the mid 1970’s amid a bad economy in New York and the infamous gasoline lines, I left New York City for New Mexico. With the confidence I had gained from my dear compadre I was able to begin a 30 year career in broadcasting. Within a year I was the weekend anchorman on the local CBS TV station in Albuquerque. Being my best friend, I would visit him once more in Sarasota Florida in late 1979. From that visit I took a job at a Tampa TV station as a news video-grapher and went on to win a local Emmy while working there. But I never saw Don again.

I would  send a card or letter some years at the holidays but never heard anything back. Our paths had parted. But not my love of music. Not my can-do spirit.  That I owe entirely to him. Any sense of confidence that  I might have,  originated with the music that came from my fingertips and the joy of making sounds that people could sing and dance to. Donald you put that in me. My passion for communication, born in a  backyard shed and a basement, now to this day manifests in web pages and essays such as this. Yes there are many in my path that shaped and cultivated all that I have become, but without question my best friend Don Martello planted the seeds.

I recently took up researching my family history and while taking a break and thinking back to my young days in Queens NY by an odd chance I  “Googled” Don Edward Martello the other night.

Don left us on September 11th last year 2015. I don’t know how or why. I probably never will. I can say I have been blessed with very little loss in my life so far.  Learning that Don was no longer on the planet rocked me. My parents passed years back and I’ve lost two dear professional friends over the years, but knowing Donald is gone has really sent me into some reverent reflection.  I looked at his photo on line. He ended up looking much like his Dad a wonderful gentle and patient man.  My world is emptier knowing Don is gone. Donald, I appreciate you more than I probably ever expressed. I learned to touch the world in great ways, as I know you always did.

We never talked much about faith but I was baptized as an adult in 2012. So when I read about sowing and reaping, I know the seeds you and your family planted in me have helped me in the good things I do here on this earth.

I know God put you in my life, and I am forever grateful for that.  I know you are making music and people smile now in heaven. (Do they do the Alley Cat or the Chicken Dance up there?) My prayers will always be of thanks for you and for God to watch over those you love here on earth. Thank you for being all you have been to me. I am so much richer because you were here.

 

Jay Garcia

The world did not end! Lessons in giving.

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Today is the last day of 2012. The Mayan calendar (or the interpretations of it)  were wrong.  Life goes on. So with it, our daily tasks and struggles and service.

Walking with Jesus is supposed to be joyful.  I am learning it is not about getting but giving.  It is not on my terms but on His.

While I know my giving is supposed to be humble,  I really need to share some experiences from the end of this year.  Continue reading →

Giving Thanks

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Getting Lost in the Holidays
It is that time of year. This weekend I am out getting the fixings for Thursday’s feast.  I know people who will be alone for the holiday, some by choice. Some clinging to the past knowing today could never be as joyful as when they were young, or loved, or not  abandoned or alone.

Others stress about “the relatives” or company. Or the meal or the table settings.  Some will forget the purpose of the holiday and mourn their losses or the past.  With the hustle and bustle of the season, the added tasks, The personalities and memories;  giving thanks can seem to get lost in it all. Continue reading →

Challenges

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I suppose an entire book could be written about challenges. Oh wait… that would be the Bible. But certainly in my day, my time and my life I am facing many. What is interesting is now that I have asked Christ into my life, the guilt and shame seems to be washed away.  Pastor Mark this week spoke about how simple it is to move forward when you over indulge in something.  When you sin.  Acknowledge it and ask forgiveness. Continue reading →

Forgiveness

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Today i added a page about Forgiveness.  I saw an incredible 14 minute video By Rob Bell that says it all. The junk we carry around when refusing to let go of the past is often called baggage.  This video is called Luggage.  Watch it to the end.  Also the lyrics to Matthew West’s new song.  I wrote and sent my Forgiveness letter this morning. 10/19/12.  I feel  so much better.