Fish Restaurant

Fish Restaurants

Jamel, Haiti

Summer 2013

There are lots of fish restaurants in Jacmel and most of them are great.  The fishermen catch fish every day and sell their load to the local restaurants.  I went to several of these restaurants during the summer and the routine was the same.  I ordered the fish platter and a large plate would be brought to me.  I never knew what kind of fish I was going to se served and the quantity was always different.  Sometimes I was given three small fish.  Other times I received two medium sized fish but mostly I received one large fish, in tact, eyeballs and all, sliced down the middle and ready for me to pick at it with my fingers.

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Our Little Private Island

Our Little Private Island

 Jamaica

November 2014

I spent a few days in an all inclusive resort.  The place was OK but the real beauty of the place was this little private island just 30 yards from the resort. We had to wade across, holding our drinks, towels, hats and other things we needed to keep us entertained for the afternoon. this inconvenience was well worth the effort.

Feeding Their Family

Feeding Their Family

Jamel, Haiti

Summer 2013

They sat out in the hot sun of the afternoon. It was their jo to sell these few pieces of fruit and the profit would be the family's earnings for the day.  i don't know where the parents were but these kids, these babies, were alone in their responsibility to feed their family for this day.

Alice Paul Institute

Alice Paul Institute

New Jersey

May 2016

I recently visited this home because I admire Alice Paul's courage.  She came from a family with money. She attended Swarthmore College when women didn't go to college.  She earned a Master's degree from Penn when few people earned that degree.  And she risked it all in her pursuit of equality for all.  She was arrested and jailed three times.  She was beaten and force-fed.

I have a lot of opinions and a lot of conviction but I lack courage when there is the potential for me to be hurt.  I admire people who risk everything for social justice. I wish I had this level of courage but I don't.

God Bless You

God Bless You
My Personal Stance


I don't say this anymore after anyone sneezes. It's stupid.  Do you really thing God is sitting around on high alert every time someone sneezes and he stops everything to bless that person.  We have wars and poverty and famine and social injustices in abundances around the world.  God needs to focus on these issues.  She doesn't have time for sneezing issues.

And really, we need a blessing for sneezing.  I know people tell me this is the closest we come to a heart attack.  But really, really.  This stupid little meaningless gesture is going to stop a heart attack.  I don't think so. And why don't we say "God bless you" when someone actually has a heart attack.  I never hear people shouting this out at that critical moment.  I guess the fear of a heart attack is greater than a heart attack.

So I decided to take a public stand against this old, worthless tradition.  And it has proven to be quiet a challenge.  People have sneezed in front of me and I have said nothing and it appears to me as if these people are waiting and expect me to chime in, interrupt anyone who is speaking and shout out "God bless you."  I don't do that and I sometimes feel a little freeze from across the room.  I get vibes that I am thoughtless and uncaring about the well being of this total stranger who incidentally survived the sneeze.

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Waiting For The Story To Break

Waiting For The Story To Break

Democratic National Convention

Broad Street

Philadelphia, PA

July 26, 2016

They stood on this corner for four days, watching the protesters across the street. Bernie's people were there.  A few members of the Westboro Baptist Church were there, spewing their intolerance of sinners, the war haters carried posters depicting the horrors of war.  The pro-life people had posters of distorted, destroyed fetuses. Tension was high and the reporters just stood there, waiting for a story to break.

The Cliff of Muir

The Cliffs of Muir

Ireland

June 2000

We went to Ireland as a family in 2000.  There were three generations of us. There were 16 of us and like so many Irish-Americans, this spot was the place that pulls on the hearts of so many of us American.

Icebergs

Icebergs

Wendell Sea

Antarctica

December 2007

Some days we would travel for hours and just see one iceberg after another.  We would hang on the side of the ship and "oh and ahh" with each new formation we say.  The Ross Shelf Iceberg was five miles long.  Other icebergs were bright blue.  They all showed signs of erosion from both the wind and the water. They were all beautiful.

Faces of Poverty

Faces of Poverty

Haiti Family Initiative Summer Program

Salvation Army Compound

Jamel, Haiti

Summer 2013

Munich

Munich

January 2012

It's a cold, clear day in Munich.  We are taking a walking tour of the city. We finish the tour by climbing to the top of this tower and peering down on this beautiful city.  As we descend the steps Tilman tells me he was a treat for me.  We wander over to the Open Market and he buys us a glass of hot wine. We lean on one of the tall tables and slowly sip our warm drink until the sun goes down for the day. Then it is too cold to be outside so we hurry back to our hotel.

Taking Photos

Taking Photos

Taj Mahal

India

July 2003

I am at the Taj and in a near convulsion status. I am so excited to be here that I can hardly contain myself.  There is so much to see and so much to photograph.  I have a personal guide with me who is working too hard for his tip and he won't leave me alone.  It is as if he is glued to me and I just want to shake him off and run around and take too many damn photos.

I suggest he go somewhere and get a cup of tea. But he would have none of that suggestion.

"It is OK Madame.  I am here to keep you safe Madame.  No trouble," he quietly replies.

I tell him I need time to take photos.  I tell him that I am going to take a lot of photos and that I will wander off by myself.

"It's OK, Madame, I will go with you".  There is too much annoying kindness in his spoke-spoken voice.

"No, you sit here so I know where I can find you when I am finished.  Just stay here," I attempt to insist.  I watch my tone so as not to offend him. He seems to get it because he sits down on one of the low walls.  I am relieved and run off to take multiple photos of the same shot.

I come back a few minutes later and he is talking to a man and a woman.  He seems to be familiar with them.

"OK, Madame, they will pose for you," he tells me.

"What?" I don't understand what he is telling me.

"I see that you like to take photos of people so I have asked this family and they said they will pose for you.  Where do you want them to stand?"

The two strangers look at me for some direction. The man is holding his small child and the woman stands by his side in a perfect family pose.

"No, no," I tell them, "That is not necessary."

"No, they do not mind.  I told them you are from America and they are happy to help you.  We love America."  My guide is so genuine in his efforts that I feel compelled to take a shot or two even though I am running out of film and have no interest in a candid photo of this family. I take one photo and move my camera around to take another shot.  They, too, move themselves around for this second shot.  I take the photo and thank them for their time. They thank me for taking their photos.

They leave, happy to have served in a small mission of good will.  My guide is happy that he has been so damn accommodating to me.  And I am feeling a little bit like the Ugly American.

Garden 2016

Garden 2016

Carpenter's Point, MD

Camels

Camels

Sahara Desert

Morocco

July 2008

They look nice and gentle.  But they are not.  They hiss at people.  They drool and they get ornery and difficult at times. They smell.  They are lumpy no matter how many blankets you throw on their hairy, prickly humps.  They can be stubborn and uncooperative.  They shit a lot. They are unpredictable.  Sometimes our guides had to kick them in the ribs to get them to stand up.  This made me nervous because I was sitting on the hump and feared that I was going to be tossed off in retaliation. I've been on three or four camel rides and all of them were stressful. I prefer to ride in a truck through the desert.

Vanilla

Vanilla
McDonald's Restaurant
Havre d'Grace, MD
August 2016


I buy a cup of coffee from McDonald's almost every day.  It's only a buck.  It's consistent and sometimes I go there just to find a quiet place to write.  So I tend to spend more time in McDonald's than I would like to admit.

The wait staff is mostly young and not very interested in me.  So I try to be annoying and chat them up every time I can.  The young woman waiting on me today has a name tag, "Vanilla."  My first assumption is she is trying to be clever and promote this new shake drink or something.

"Is your mane really Vanilla?", I ask her.

"Yea, it is.  Isn't that a bit of irony," she retorts with a tone of glee.

I don't get the irony so I confess, "What irony?"

"I'm black and my mother named me Vanilla. she thought she was so funny", she laughs and brings me my coffee.

I laugh too because I didn't see this irony but now it is glaring me in the face.  I tell her that my name is Chocolate.

She laughs and tells me, "We call my brother Chocolate."

With that bit of news, I give up on trying to trump her with a funny retort.  I take my coffee and find a table and keep to myself for the rest of this visit.

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How Much Do Your Kids Cost You

How Much Do Your Kids Cost You?

Philadelphia PA

1985

My father is sitting at lunch with three friends. They went to law school together and after 30 years, they still remained good friends.  They meet a couple times a year for lunch and the conversation usually picks up right where they left off from the last lunch.

This lunch Nick is complaining about his daughter, his only child. “Jesus,” he complained, “she’s costing me a fortune. And when is it ever going to end. I think she cost me about 25,000 bucks a year. And there’s no end in sight.  Jesus, Jim, you must spend a fortune with seven kids. How much do your kids cost you?”

My father is a little baffled by this question, “What are you talking about, our kids are adults now.”

“What”, Nick wants to know, “You aren’t shelling out any money for them?  Is it just me.  Joe, what about you.  What do your kids cost you.?”

Joe runs some numbers through his head.  “I pick up the car payments on my daughter so that’s about $1000 a year.  And then I throw in grocery money.”

Bob confessed that he pays rent for his one son.  Nick complains that he’s paying rent, car payment, car insurance, food and a clothing allowance.

“Jim, you can’t tell us that you don’t kick in something to your kids.”

“No”, he assures them. “I don’t give them anything.”

They just can’t believe it.

The next time I see my father, he replays this entire conversation with me, word for word, as if he has memorized it, as if he plays it over and over in his head because it is just too unbelievable to him.

“Let me ask you something,” he says, “Do your friends’ parents still support them?  How old are you, 34? Do your friends still hit their parents up from money?”

I tell him, “No.  I have one friend who depends on her parents.  They give her money.  But the rest of my friends are on their own, just like me.”

“Good, that’s the way it should be. You’re adults.”  And with that we went out to lunch and he let me pick up the tab.

Dogs

Dogs

I don’t like dogs and that’s hard to say because it makes dog owners so defensive. But I just don’t like them. I don’t like to be in their presence. I don’t like to be touched by them. I don’t find them to be good company. I don’t know why I have this aversion to dogs and it baffles my dog friends. But so what.

I don’t like to touch them. I don’t like the tactile sensation of their skin. It’s just physically creepy to me. And when I touch a dog, I can feel this sensation on my fingertips until I wash my hands. But even then I still have their smell on my fingers. I don’t like their hot breath. I hate when the dog sits near me and breathes on my leg. I don’t like its wet, runny nose and when the dog touches me with its wet nose, that sends an electrical charge of discomfort that radiates in my entire body. I know that sounds over dramatic but it’s really true. I hate to be touched by dogs.

I get frightened by dogs who are territorial. Once they start to growl at me, I surrender all my confidence and move into defensive mode, assuming they’re going to attack me and eat me to death. When I passed a dog on the leash and it begins to yup at me and the owner says “Don’t worry he’s a friendly dog”, it takes everything out of me not to shout back “Oh shut the fuck up, you don’t know what this dog could do to me”.

I’m not even going to mention dog hair, dog vomit and cleaning up after your dog. They’re all gross body functions that don’t interest me so I won’t even go there.

I don’t like to be licked by a dog. I don’t like that wet residue that lingers on my legs or my hand. When dog starts coming at me I do everything I can to send the vibration to leave me alone.

My brother had two dogs over the last 25 years and I liked those dogs.  And my sister had a dog that I liked.  Although, I have to confess that Petey used to hump me. My sister would laugh and tell me, "He’s just happy to see you.” These were smaller dogs and they didn’t invade my space. And they didn’t lick me or growl at me.  They mostly left me alone.  That must be the key:  I’d like dogs if they just left me alone.