Calvin Schwartz « Vichy Water

June 23, 2012

Voices From Beyond (Recorded) in a Revolutionary War Cemetery (Scary). Fracking and Charles Dickens: A Middletown, NJ (Scary) Environmental Seminar. Marlboro, NJ: Probably the First Town on Earth to Offer “Property Tax Reward Program” “From Here to Eternity” June 23rd 2012

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: "From Here to Eternity', Assistant Mayor Larry Rosen, Calvin Schwartz, Charles Dickens, Councilwoman Carol Mazzola, Dr Jan Dash, Dr. Larysa Dyrszka, Ebenezer Scrooge, EVP, Fracking, Jim Walsh, Linda Baum, Marlboro NJ, Mayor Jonathan Hornik, Middletown Library, PhD, Rutgers, Susan Kraham — earthood @ 3:30 pm

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Fracking is the essence of this blog. But first a word on origins.

How’d I start writing this blog? To emote and stir sensibilities, I watched ‘From Here to Eternity’ last night while I pedaled feverishly on the stationary bike. An early scene in this tech noir movie, Montgomery Clift (Robert E. Lee Prewitt) walks into an empty barracks pool room. The screen door slams behind him. Echoes fill the room. Black and white desolation in the scene grips me. I felt December 7^th and World War II coming. 1941: my parents just started dating; so they were here on earth then. How can I get back to spring 1941? I was psyched to write this blog.

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an emotional scene ‘From Here to Eternity’ with Sinatra and Clift

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ah. the famous steamy beach scene ‘From Here to Eternity’

Firstly, before the fracking essence of this blog edition, I need to apologize to all my global readers for my tardiness in getting this blog posted; it’s been too long. Insights: I’ve assumed huge responsibilities with NJ Discover TV as a journalist covering music, art, environmental, and human interest stories here in New Jersey. Even armed with video camera (and learning editing capabilities), I’ve been immersed in a myriad of experiences. This blog has been my baby for nearly three years; in the distance I hear the maternal voice, sensibly uttering “balance and pace yourself.” So I aim to get back to timely entries with you all. The good news; this journalism gig has opened my world to new experiences which I can share here in this blog moving from a pediatric (baby) blog to maturation. A perfect segue: last week and my entrance into a whole new spiritual world.

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scene one from cemetery. a lot of plant growth. and you can see the sun shining.

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me hanging around near a grave marker. seconds before the rain.

Last Saturday, a small team of an intellectual, fellow journalist and little old me journeyed to a Revolutionary War cemetery here in New Jersey. Before I go on, let me say this about that (President Kennedy used to say this phrase all the time). I want to enlighten you all as to my spirituality which is a major portion of my life these past ten years. It’s so involved and complicated but refreshingly haunting and honest, that some people near and dear are moving me down the road to a memoir; it’s that remarkable. Confession; I’ve taken so much for granted these past years but last Saturday was one of those wake-up calls. Something has been in my life for a long time.

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more cemetery scenes

Back to last Saturday. The three of us stood in a small cemetery where many of the grave markers said “departed this life,” mostly before America was born in 1776. It was 7:44 AM and not a cloud in the sky; one of those top ten days. We could faintly hear early morning traffic in the distance; household milk deliveries to rear doors, I humorously thought to myself. Most markers were covered with dense foliage; I hoped no poison ivy and if there was, I figured I was a dead man to the extent I’d be laid up past Rutgers first kick-off in September. Along came a spider that bit me on my right calf. Standing over the grave of a child, the intellectual asked, “Are you a child?” A small tape recorder in hand, the intellectual played back the response (we didn’t hear anything with the naked ear), “Yes I am a child.” By the way, these responses are called ‘electronic voice phenomenon.’

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a marker. circa 1775. before Revolutionary War.

Moments later, we stood in a semi-circle reading the marker of another grave when it started to rain on us. Thing is, there was not a cloud in the sky. I rubbed my arms in disbelief that I felt moisture and rain. The intellectual assured what was happening was not out of the ordinary. Taking things in stride, we continued to query the spirits and recorded more along the way. Interestingly, my associate co- journalist is of the extreme cynical variety so listening to play-backs and the voices recorded transformed her normally effusive smile to one of serious revelation; reminded me of an old vintage song, “I’m a believer.”

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a cemetery close to heart.

Later we moved our three folding chairs and cars to a different cemetery; equally as haunting and historic. The word nefarious fits. No need to delve in depth about experiences here, but the intellectual recorded a voice responding to her, saying “I’m glad you are here.” You should’ve seen the somber face of my co-journalist. Good old Calvin takes things in stride. Over lunch, the intellectual and I traded introspective stories of the spirit. She did say to me, perhaps changing my life’s map journey, that I was one of the most unusual persons she ever met; so in tune to the offerings of the universe. The intellectual urged me to write a memoir. I just need a final chapter and away I go; also soon to a special gathering of spiritualists; keep you all posted.

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Marlboro NJ Mayor Jonathan Hornik addressing local business leaders, Assistant Larry Rosen, Councilwoman Carol Mazzola looking on. A Revolutionary tax reward program

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Talk about directional changes and diversity in a life. On Thursday, I went to cover the launch (for business owners) of the ‘Shop Marlboro Property Tax Reward Program.’ In my headline, I alluded to the notion of Marlboro, New Jersey (population 40,000) being (probably) the very first place, town on Earth (therefore the United States as well) offering a reduction of (Marlboro) township property taxes based on a percentage of purchases during the year from (Marlboro) local businesses. I said to myself (a property tax payer in town), ‘Wow.”

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indeed lettuce is lettuce. no matter where.

It’s not within the scope of this blog to talk specifics, but certainly to applaud Mayor Jonathan Hornik and Township Council and the entire Township Council and their Economic Development Committee(David Faust) Jonathan Capp, Business Administrator and Investors Bank for visions and courage way beyond a central Jersey township’s limited reach and place in the universe; a refreshing and uplifting civic prideful thought for their 40,000 residents.

I’m enthused about eating out in Marlboro so much more often now. You see, I’ve got this theory that lettuce is lettuce no matter where ever you go. I might as well eat lettuce close to home and pay less property taxes. It may be that simple.

Now to scary nightmarish thoughts about fracking; here’s my article based on my experiences at a recent seminar. And fracking is fracking important to our children’s future health.

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a seminar flyer. study the pix. quiz tomorrow or day after.

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Charles Dickens. another hero of mine. good old Scrooge and human greed. it hits awful close to home.

This is not going to be a traditional news journalistic article on a seminar on fracking which I recently attended at the Middletown, NJ Library. There should’ve been 20,000 people in attendance. Thing is, I didn’t know a lot about fracking; it’s not necessarily plastered on the news. But I knew it was an environmental issue. I also now know that most of our species, especially those living in the United States of America have no clue whatsoever about what fracking is and the dangers thereof. Do we applaud the natural gas industry that stand to make billions for perhaps keeping the issues away from the public? I do applaud the Democratic Executive Committee, Middletown (and Linda Baum for being the human energy behind this seminar) for sponsoring this Public Service Event. And I have no political party affiliations; a lifelong purist who votes for the best candidate. So what’s the purpose of this article? Well, to inform my blog readership that there are serious environmental problems than can or will arise from this procedure to allow natural gas to escape and flow out of wells and make the gas companies rich.

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a collection pool. not pretty.

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Jim Walsh speaking at Middletown Fracking seminar

Now, what does Charles Dickens have to do with the title of this article? Yes, sometimes I’m a dramatic writer, especially when I’m emotionally concerned. I’m also tired of taking my 26 year old son aside and repeatedly apologizing to him that my generation has really messed things up; can’t find a way to sign the Kyoto Protocol and agree on greenhouse gas emissions causing climate change and witnessing animal and fish extinctions daily. You all know the rest. For me as an impartial journalist, this seminar clobbered me. I got that sick feeling in my very sensitive intestinal lining.

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Attorney Susan Kraham speaking.

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a fracking fracking mess site.

It was so egregious what was happening with fracking (and wow to the 20,000 wells they want to put into Pennsylvania so that the pollutants eventually work their way right here to the Garden State) that I immediately envisioned Charles Dickens character Ebenezer Scrooge saying at the end of the movie starring Alastair Sim in 1951’s ‘A Christmas Carol,’ “Decrease surface population.” My wild imagination, I thought. But fracking can be potentially bad and evil. I thought about somebody out there in imaginary television land, looking for ways to really decrease surface population. Fracking could be efficient beyond wildest dreams (a great song).

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a sign from the Sierra Club, New Jersey headquarters in Trenton

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Dr Jan Dash, PhD speaking. He invited me.

The panelists of the seminar were Larysa Dyrszka, MD, Physicians, Scientists, and Engineers for Healthy Energy, Susan Kraham, Senior Staff Attorney, Environmental Law Clinic, Columbia University, Jim Walsh, Eastern Region Director, Food and Water Watch Moderator and Jan Dash, PhD. Synchronicity follows me around. After the seminar, I mentioned to Susan Kraham how alarmed I was and that this whole issue reminded me of Scrooge and Dickens as a far-fetched conspiratorial way to decrease the surface population. She laughed. A few days earlier in front of a court room with the natural gas industry as an opponent, Susan observed that their lawyer looked like Scrooge and there I was talking to her about Dickens.

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fracking’s forgotten costs.

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PLEASE READ. TAKE ACTION. there is still time.

What concerns me is that humans make mistakes and rush to judgment. We need decades of studies and analysis before we dump millions of gallons of rare, precious and beautiful water mixed with carcinogenic chemicals and sand into each well to dislodge the trapped natural gas. That mixture can move around and work its way into our food chain. Good old human stupidity. No one on earth can say what can happen to those millions of gallons of water and nasty scary chemicals; where they ultimately end up.

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a concerned citizen talks to Dr. Larysa Dyrszka after seminar.

Here’s an example of folks in high places (politicians) not knowing much and changing our healthy lives. Days after 9-11, the Environmental Protection Agency head (director), said that the air around the World Trade Center was alright to breathe. Back then, I said to myself utilizing the gift of common sense, that anytime you burn two large buildings fully loaded, there isn’t a scientist on earth, that could ever figure out what chemical compounds are created by the combustion and therefore probably would be deleterious to the human body. It surely isn’t going to make us live longer breathing that air. Fracking is the same thing. Nobody can tell where and how and when. We just don’t know. We need more time brother.

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what your fracking water could look like one day.

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seminar panelists

A little primer: Fracking injects a mixture of water, chemicals and sand into wells to create pressure that cracks the rocks, allowing gas to escape and flow out of wells. Yes it’s a mad rush to get gas and make money. Somehow fracking was exempted from provisions of the Safe Drinking Water Act and other federal environmental and public health regulations. Some of the chemicals injected into OUR ground contain naphthalene, benzene and acrylamide; known and suspected carcinogens and toxins. I remember the movie ‘Erin Brockovich.’ Nothing changes. I worry about the underground, greenhouse gases, rivers of toxic waste water, mountains of toxic waste, farmers (growers of human food) in Colorado being outbid for water in auctions by natural gas companies, physicians being legislated on what they can report when people get sick, air pollution, children, and my son’s children someday if. And what if, who’s responsible some day? Where have all the flowers gone?

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a sign in waiting at the Sierra Club in Trenton.

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Ebenezer Scrooge. the face of greed. it hits all of us eventually close to home. and of course decreasing surface population.

This is mostly a Paul Revere kind of article. Get thee on a horse and learn about fracking. I’ve made my point. Guess what. I’m in the mood now. I know its June but I’m going to find my VHS copy of a ‘Christmas Carol’ starring Alastair Sim and I’ll watch it now that I’ve finished this article with great anticipation to when Ebenezer proclaims, “Decrease the surface population.”

NOW HERE THIS: a bit of an advertisement. I don’t do those very much here. BUT there’s a very unusual upbeat funny precious 2 minute video involving 102 year old Emily Cook who talks about the life briefly and then invites me back to her room. Not to be missed especially the last 23 seconds. PLEASE check it out and share it.

emily cook video she’s 102 years old.

HooplaHa Videos and Article LINKS $fracking$ Judy Feinstein: Female Pilot:

Judy Feinstein pilot:

http://www.hooplaha.com/no-rearview-mirror/

Fatherhood:

http://www.hooplaha.com/fatherhood/

Ida Gonzalez: A Mother’s Journey to Light:

http://www.hooplaha.com/a-mothers-journey-to-light/

Common Sense Approach to Common Sense:

http://www.hooplaha.com/common-sense-approach-to-common-sense/

Flexitarianism:

http://www.hooplaha.com/flexitarianism/

Meryl Streep and Me:

http://www.hooplaha.com/meryl-streep-and-me/

A Real College Pep Band Video (yes 85 seconds):

rutgers pep band video

Also a very worthwhile cause to read up on:

Butterfly Circle of Friends. http://www.butterflycircleoffriends.org

MY CONTACT INFORMATION

website: http://vichywater.net

Facebook: Cal Schwartz

Twitter: Earthood

Email: earthood@gmail.com

book trailer. hey its 65 seconds long $fracking$

Vichy Water Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=qj2ko9gcC_M

Vichy Water book trailer 65 seconds long

IMPORTANT LINK

If on Facebook check out this NJ Discover site: $fracking$

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000125711074

OR www.njdiscover.com

LINDA CHORNEY’S GRAMMY NOMINEEE ALBUM:

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LINKS TO VIDEOS. Please Watch.

1. ZOMBIE WALK October 22, 2011

Zombie Walk Asbury Park

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfFA-y115nc&feature=autoshare

2. VETERANS DAY NJ VIETNAM MEMORIAL

Nov 11, 2011 Veterans Day at NJ Vietnam War Memorial

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYwkaa_xreg&feature=related

3. RANDALL HAYWOOD & VICTOR JONES JAZZ CONCERT

Nov 19, 2011

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNohzH8AHvM&feature=player_embedded

Comments (3)

May 30, 2012

Bluefin Tuna: Here, There and Radioactive. Bamboozle Asbury Park: I was there with an Asterisk. Backstage Pass: SONGWRITERS BY THE SEA. Strand Theater. Lakewood, NJ May 30, 2012

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: Asbury Park, Bill Toms, Bluefin Tuna. Bamboozle, Bobby Mahoney, Bon Jovi, Calvin Schwartz, Cat Cosentino, Cookman Avenue, Dr. Helen Caldicott, Foo Fighters, Fukushima, Garland Jeffreys, Guy Davis, Jerzy Jung, Joe D'Urso, Joe Rapolla, Lakewood, Songwriters by the Sea, Strand Theater, Tom Brieding — earthood @ 3:50 pm

Did you notice the three topics of this blog begin with the letter ‘B.’ Of course there’s no real burning, bombastic, believable Bluefin tuna reason for the employment of the letter ‘B.’ It just happened and I went with the basic flow. I strived for ‘B’s’ all throughout school years; basic elementary, high school and lots of college (the equivalent of seven years. They’re reasons for that. A documented allergy in the late 1960’s to rice paddies and tropical foliage). So why do I have ‘B’ as a grade goal? Because I’m a realist; I was not put on this good earth (Pearl Buck) to get A’s nor was I supposed to be a Kentucky Derby jockey or miner for bituminous coal. Nor am I one of those folks who always win raffles, door prizes, lotteries, poker, or picking winners (handicapper) at race tracks.

tsukiji fish market and tuna. imagine $172,000 for one of these.

Fourteen years after we landed on the moon, I went to Monticello Racetrack with perhaps one of the great handicappers of all times. He never loses. Some people never win. Of course most people break even. We pooled our resources and bet on 23 separate horses to win in the first five races. It was a sure thing to win once but we didn’t. Two years ago, my son and I took a Touchdown Club bus to an away game. Fifty-two seats on the bus. Fifty door prizes like tee-shirts and beer mugs. Two people did not win; my son and I. Inheritance of innate qualities is a fascinating subject. It makes me think of the old blood-brain barrier and why some people need a foot long hot dog or foot long Cheech joint. Speaking of hot dogs, I haven’t had one since 1975 when I slipped into a lonely Essex County foggy night, got off a train from New York City and became a Flexitarian (no red meat).

a Bluefin tuna. since they are almost extinct I couldn't find a real picture. not.

Since I do not eat red meat and believe my current colon to be worthy of a Life Magazine pictorial, I became an obsessive tuna fish connoisseur which meant travelling mostly up and down the east coast, looking for perfect waves and tuna fish. I’m a Jersey guy but found marvelous tuna fish salad in Owings Mills, Maryland. I’ve been known to travel hundreds of miles out of my way to salivate over perfect tuna. After years of going out of my way, I had the tuna analyzed; artificial sugar and a dash of ketchup; a bit disarming.

But soon a sister-in-law from Long Island came to the rescue; tuna fish with jalapeno and red peppers; heavenly stuff. Wishing there was no such thing as mercury; my tuna consumption went from three times a week to monthly. I miss my Bluefin tuna and the old days when the Good Humor man used to drive around pushing Toasted Almond bars.

sprucing up asbury lanes for bamboozle

setting up one of Bamboozle sound stages.

The North Atlantic Bluefin Tuna is almost extinct. I read awhile back there were only 25,000 left in the whole world mostly because of over fishing and disregarding international guidelines. A single North Atlantic Bluefin Tuna sold for $172,400 at the first auction of 2001 at Tokyo’s Tsukiji Fish Market. Yes, the Japanese use tuna in sushi. And speaking of the Japanese, Pacific Bluefin Tuna has been showing up on our west coast carrying radioactive contamination that leaked from Japan’s crippled nuclear plant to the shores of the United States; this is the first time a huge migrating fish has been shown to carry radioactivity such a distance. Researchers were startled about this. The levels of radioactive cesium were 10 times higher than the amount measured in tuna off the California coast in previous years. And I love when they say, “But the levels still far below safe-to-eat limits set by the U.S. and Japanese governments.

Finally turning basically serious, there’s a video you all ought to watch about radioactivity, Fukushima and the tsunami which we hear so little about any more. There’s segue to Chernobyl where a million died as a result. Enough said. Here’s a YouTube link:

Dr Helen Caldicott – Fukushima Nuclear Disaster- You won’t hear this on the Main Stream News:

Dr Helen Caldicott Fukushima Nuclear disaster

Bamboozle by Convention Hall

A Bamboozle water delivery

Now to Bamboozle in Asbury Park last weekend: 100,000 people showed up over the course of three days to hear music from Bon Jovi, Foo Fighters and much more. I live 23 minutes from Asbury Park and could’ve even taken a train. A long time ago in a galaxy far away in Maplewood, New Jersey, I had my hand on a car door handle about to jump into a car of long- haired college kids and head to a similar weekend of music at Woodstock. A first fiancé warned me not to go; she wouldn’t be there if I did. So I didn’t; been lamenting 40 years especially since a first marriage lasted less than four years.

But Bamboozle was different. My wife blessed me to go (without her). But I’ve spent so much time these months going to countless concerts, musical venues, Backstage events, meeting musicians and covering, writing, filming, reviewing and reveling in this Jersey music world, that I felt energy is better spent when I can be the only media personality (NJ Discover TV) devotee.

Setting up Bamboozle

of course i couldn't fit both legs in batmobile. which means batman probably wasn't 6'5". phone rang. i answered it. pix at bamboozle

But I did go Friday morning to Bamboozle while they were finishing setting up. I walked around with my camera and took pictures and talked to early arrivers and adapters. And I absorbed some elemental energy; two hours later I was satiated and awarded myself an asterisk for being at Bamboozle. I’ve talked to lots of folks since; It’d be nice next year if I did go and even better if the Bamboozle hierarchy allowed the 100,000 people to walk down magical Cookman Avenue in Asbury Park and have dinner and check out art galleries and antique malls.

just before hitting asbury park i found this crow in the next town over in bradley beach

Now to this phenomenal acoustical Backstage event which I recently went to at the Strand Theater in Lakewood, New Jersey. Here’s the deal. Filled with emotion and wonderment at being there; introspective percolation and intestinal lining excavation produced the following (and its ‘funny’ the things that music and words make you think about. Powerful stuff-good music)

SONGWRITERS BY THE SEA. The Strand Theater. Lakewood, NJ. By Calvin Schwartz

backstage ambience at Strand

I was picturing something new, filling with anticipation and even uncertainty and whispering words of a long forgotten gut wrenching song, “What’s it all About, Alfie?” Why am I whispering words and not singing? Because I can’t sing and I wish I could since the time my Newark elementary school put on a musical play in the auditorium. A picture of then President Eisenhower hung just to the right of the flag. Kids who could sing got special attention and privileges. I wish I could sing.

Legendary Garland Jeffreys singing backstage close to audience

This night was special. I was driving down foggy misty Route Nine from Springsteen’s Freehold, New Jersey, toward Lakewood’s Strand Theatre for my first indoctrination into a wondrous backstage event. Alas, I can’t sing but I can write visually and sail through streams of consciousness and imagination. I was picturing things as my right hand negotiated a steering wheel. It was ‘conjure-up things’ city on a strangely empty highway. Suddenly I was at Giants Stadium in the Meadowlands (I still call it that). Seventy thousand fans were yelling “Bruce.”

Jerzy Jung. keyboard.

My seats were humble and I was without binoculars. Just to see his face up close would’ve been everything. All of a sudden, as I passed a diner and barren parking lot, I was in a small Vermont town where a veterinarian’s assistant was the mayor. A group of 44 people were gathered on her green lawn in front of a porch that circumnavigated the house built by relatives of Ben Franklin. A musical porchfest was going on. I parked my car, walked over; everybody greeted me and I saw the lips of the singers moving and felt the exhaled breath of each word. And I heard every word. They were singing just to me. Relevance was my new favorite buzz word. The fog was thick; I couldn’t see the porch anymore.

Guy Davis. amazing blues and harmonica

A sign on the roadside welcomed me to Lakewood. Now back in Jersey and about to enter the world of a porchfest on a backstage of an historic theatre. Slip me into the world of art deco and put me next to a radio to hear President Roosevelt or Mayor LaGuardia. My anticipation was as thick as ketchup; the French banned this red food stuff in their schools; I remembered and smiled about the quirky randomness of my thinking. I was cylinder firing away because of my extreme excitement to be at a backstage event. I was following maze like theater corridors and magic marker signs leading to back stage at the Strand Theatre. I was really there.

Garland Jeffreys singing

I’m a native Jersey guy who likes history. The Strand opened in 1922 when Lakewood was actually popular with the rich and famous of the day like Rockefeller. The theater was built with a sense of acoustics as many performances of the day were solo acts. And here I was, about to walk onto the stage of the Strand for a magical acoustics evening. The Strand was signed into the National Register of Historical Places in 1982. My tripod, mono-pod and TV camera were gently deposited on the floor as ‘Songwriters by the Sea’ co-founder Joe Rapolla greeted me within my first few steps on stage. In 2008, Joe Rapolla and Joe D’Urso created the concept of ‘Songwriters’ who performed then in Asbury Park at America’s Cup Coffee. After a year in Asbury Park, the concept grew in popularity with audiences and they expanded to Backstage at the Strand in March, 2009.

Joe Rapolla singing

I need to qualify my writing style; strictly from the gut and reflective how songwriter performers emote while the surroundings add ambience to my writing soul. Joe Rapolla’s poignant life and musical journey has already hyper sensitized my words and observations. Therefore, this is not a review.

For the first half, I decided to plant my TV camera in the back of the stage which was several rows away from the songwriters. I wanted to feel songwriter intimacy and connections being part of the real audience. I flicked the camera on auto and spiritually drifted. The old renovated theater was dark and empty; light from the stage managed to illuminate the first few rows of seats. Dimly lit chandeliers added to surrealism; for me a silence you could see. Silence was part of the history in the walls; Burns and Allen once performed here; so did the Scarecrow, Ray Bolger. I heard Gracie’s shrill voice.

attentive audience

D’Urso (remember we’re dealing with two Joe’s) introduced the first group of songwriters. Cat Cosentino (from Oceanport and proud of it) and Bobby Mahoney (only 17 and therefore couldn’t avail himself of a real drinking bar in the rear) were the young rising stars. Tom Breiding is from West Virginia while Bill Toms is near Pittsburgh. Bill talked to us like we’re in his living room back home. “The hardest person to get to know is yourself.” Then the song words , “I’ve made peace now with a stranger in me.” Backstage means stark silence except for voice echoes. He sang to me. Three rows in front, a man on the aisle rubbed his cuticles. Why write about that; because of the intimacy of backstage; sensitivity and in tune with the immediate world. I pinched myself; purist joy what I was part of; affluent, audible, flowing, meaningful words. I was back in the Meadowlands briefly, starved for wordy echoes.

Tom Brieding. Bill Toms. Cat Cosentino. Bobby Mahoney

Cat’s first song was dedicated to her parents; her voice melodiously electric. Bobby sang “A Delicate Fall from Grace;” which reminded of a whip ride back in Newark; that sudden acceleration. Tom Brieding sang about finding one another as we drift between stars. What meant everything to me being backstage is I heard every resonating word. The singers told stories. “You talking to me,” then I told the taxi driver to let me be. I love backstage. A man on the left, two rows down took a swig of beer; the bottle level was half-way. Then I saw a leg wearing cargo shorts stretch out in the aisle, moving to the beat of the music; the calf muscle flexed visibly. Gosh, I was in an electronic hyper state. The Strand environment worked magic. Then I whispered to myself (I also do that in states of elation), “Thank you Rapolla and D’Urso.”

backstage silence

Intermission and time to position the camera on the side of the stage; different absorption I imagined. Both Joe’s would sing. And Garland Jeffreys, a living legend; I was a few feet away. Guy Davis; unbridled energy and blues. Jerzy Jung;( her real name) with keyboard inches away from me. Joe D’Urso, a Bronx native, sang, “I’ll prove it won’t be dark, all the stars will be out tonight.” While singing ‘Chocolate Man,’ Davis touched the audience.(proximity and sensation). And to hear every breath Garland Jeffreys took while singing ‘Coney Island Winter,’ was nirvana. “Hey Mah,” I was in that place of magic. I don’t know where James Cagney came from. Maybe I do know. I’m backstage clicking my heels.

Joe D'Urso

Then Do-Wop from D’Urso and the gang. He really corralled me all the way back to Newark, New Jersey, with the words, “Why must I be a teenager in love.” The power of backstage music, I thought. The Good-Humor man was selling this new ‘Toasted Almond’ bar. Jerzy spoke about any woman or girl who ever felt unsure of herself. Soon, I was sitting around a fire place with a few fraternity brothers; Harvey had a guitar and was singing a folk song; ‘The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face.’ I tried to sing along. They told me to stop. I heard Rapolla’s wooden stool scrape along the stage. I was back on stage in awe, amazed at the clarity of the stool scraping noise.

Joe Rapolla

Every word from Garland Jeffreys was heard while he was way down in Spanish town. And when he wasn’t singing, I watched him tap his feet to the beat. How many singers have I seen do that; certainly not from the running track in Madison Square Garden or standing chest to shoulder in a bar or in a park with a makeshift bandstand and hundreds of beach chairs as forward motion impediments.

Joe Rapolla talked about giving kids advice on love. “Don’t be afraid to throw your heart on the wind.” You’ll never know feelings of songwriters unless you are backstage. All of a sudden Bill Murray pounded a clock radio alarm at 6:00 AM. ‘Groundhog Day’ flashed. I didn’t want this night to end. Later Jerzy said that uncertainty wasn’t a bad thing. And the harmonica playing by Davis was riveting. Jeffreys walked into the audience while singing ‘New York skyline.’ Everybody was singing now. Disbelief; I noticed the shadow that the microphone wire cast on the stage floor. It was a giant shadow. Jeffreys’ voice was a giant voice. ‘Wild in the Streets’ with all the cast closed this backstage event. When the show was over, I mingled with the singers. Accessibility was in the theater air ducts. I thanked both Joe’s for their remarkable vision. And I marveled again about noticing the shadow of Jeffrey’s microphone wire. But that’s this incredible backstage world; heightened awareness and sensitivity beyond imagination.

Garland Jeffreys and me

the lonely silent darkened theater awaiting backstage pass

‘Songwriters by the Sea’ series is a musical atom; protons, electrons, neutrons firing away. My mind fired away and still does. It moves me to write impassioned commentary for people to escape from sedentary sofas. But what would happen to intimacy and interaction? I thought of the word ‘secret.’ I also knew I was in a special place with special people for several hours and my atoms were musically innervated like never before. Then I thought about my not ever being able to sing but it didn’t make a difference anymore. I was part of singing for every millisecond I was backstage.

Here is an old fashioned PS to this article. I went home and found Joe Rapolla’s cover of Elton John’s ‘Daniel.’ I listened several times in a row because I read his bio and I was still in that heightened electronic sensitized state from being backstage all night. So here’s a link: http://www.myspace.com/joerapolla/music/songs/daniel-14555208

And I’m still listening.

NOW HERE THIS: a bit of an advertisement. I don’t do those very much here. BUT there’s a very unusual upbeat funny precious 2 minute video involving 102 year old Emily Cook who talks about the life briefly and then invites me back to her room. Not to be missed especially the last 23 seconds. PLEASE check it out and share it.

http://www.hooplaha.com/getting-better-all-the-time/

HooplaHa Videos and Article LINKS

Judy Feinstein: Female Pilot:

Judy Feinstein pilot:

http://www.hooplaha.com/no-rearview-mirror/

Fatherhood:

http://www.hooplaha.com/fatherhood/

Ida Gonzalez: A Mother’s Journey to Light:

http://www.hooplaha.com/a-mothers-journey-to-light/

Common Sense Approach to Common Sense:

http://www.hooplaha.com/common-sense-approach-to-common-sense/

Flexitarianism:

http://www.hooplaha.com/flexitarianism/

Meryl Streep and Me:

http://www.hooplaha.com/meryl-streep-and-me/

A Real College Pep Band Video (yes 85 seconds):

http://www.hooplaha.com/rutgers-rah-a-college-pep-band/

Also a very worthwhile cause to read up on:

Butterfly Circle of Friends. http://www.butterflycircleoffriends.org

MY CONTACT INFORMATION

website: http://vichywater.net

Facebook: Cal Schwartz

Twitter: Earthood

Email: earthood@gmail.com

book trailer. hey its 65 seconds long

Vichy Water Book Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=qj2ko9gcC_M

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=qj2ko9gcC

IMPORTANT LINK

If on Facebook check out this NJ Discover site:

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000125711074

OR www.njdiscover.com

LINDA CHORNEY’S GRAMMY NOMINEEE ALBUM:

LINKS TO VIDEOS. Please Watch.

1. ZOMBIE WALK October 22, 2011

Zombie Walk Asbury Park

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfFA-y115nc&feature=autoshare

2. VETERANS DAY NJ VIETNAM MEMORIAL

Nov 11, 2011

Veterans Day at NJ Vietnam War Memorial

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYwkaa_xreg&feature=related

3. RANDALL HAYWOOD & VICTOR JONES JAZZ CONCERT

Nov 19, 2011

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNohzH8AHvM&feature=player_embedded

Comments (1)

May 15, 2012

“I’m Sick and Tired of Being Sick and Tired” (New Jersey Environmental Federation Conference in Newark). Jersey Acoustic Music (JAM) Awards in Asbury Park. Instead of Whispering “Plastics” I Whispered “Water” to My Son. I am an Eracist. May 15, 2012

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: Alexandra Inglis, Amy Goldsmith, Asbury Park, Brigadier General Steven Anderson, Calvin Schwartz, Clear Water Action, David Pringle, Dr. Nicky Shetas, Emily Grove, Eracism, Fannie Lou Hamer, Hess, Jersey Acoustic Awards, Kevin John Allen, Lo Kloza, New Jersey Environmental Federation, Newark, Peter Montague, Rutgers Law School, Senator Jennifer Beck — earthood @ 10:33 am

I wonder why more citizens here in New Jersey don’t make the time to attend the New Jersey Environmental Federation Conference; an annual event held at Rutgers Law School in Newark. At very least, it’s an exercise in expanding the mind, by learning, listening, growing; it’s just a better thing to do than sleeping to 10 AM on a Saturday, watching television for an hour and making two passes around Costco’s bakery department. One summer back in 1967, I worked in an industrial bakery in Newark and I fell in love with the bakery smell; so that’s why occasionally I make two passes through Costco’s; it’s a close enough smell and it takes me back to the days of the ‘Lone Ranger.’

a perspective view looking down in Rutgers Law school

So where does this expression come from? “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired” One of my heroes, Fannie Lou Hamer said this. She was instrumental in organizing Mississippi Freedom Summer for the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), and later became the Vice-Chair of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party, attending the 1964 Democratic National Convention in Atlantic City, New Jersey. She believed fervently in the righteousness of the cause of civil rights. This past Saturday, I attended the New Jersey Environmental Federation Conference in Newark at Rutgers Law School. I’ve been going for years, especially looking forward to Dr. Nicky Sheats talk about environmental justice; one of the causes that mean so much. For me, being in college during the decade of civil rights in the 1960’s and then attending the very first Earth Day on April 22nd 1970 and now seeing civil rights and environment become concentric circles of commonality is painfully relevant in 2012.

Fannie Lou Hamer. A hero. "I'm sick and tired of being sick and tired"

Amy Goldsmith from New Jersey Environmental Federation being honored;.

After breakfast and introductory speeches, the conference separated into workshops. I circled the ‘Enough is Enough’ workshop; needed to learn how the cumulative effect of pollution in water, air and food is making people sick and what we can do about it. The speakers were amazingly credentialed; Dr. Nicky Sheats, Phd, Center of Urban Development, Steve Anderson, Research Scientist, Peter Montague, PhD, Environmental Research Foundation(I love listening to his rational dire global warming warning words) and Henry Rose, State Coordinator, NJ Environmental Justice Alliance. Henry was passionate and right on when he uttered “environmental apartheid.” I learned that Hess (Oil) Corporation plans to build a 655-megawatt natural gas power plant in the East Ward (Ironbound) section of Newark, a city and a section dangerously overburdened by an onslaught of environmental affronts, degradation and pollutants. By a 7-1 vote, the Newark board approved a measure last Thursday night and despite grass roots opposition, the board gave the project the go-ahead in a 15-minute meeting. When I heard this, I raised my hand and suggested that the title of this workshop should be changed to “I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired.”

Attendees listening to awards ceremony

My using Fannie Lou Hamer’s words simply mean I’m sick and tired of hearing year after year about blatant examples of environmental injustice. There are enough graphs and statistics which clearly show the amount of pollution is related to the color of skin and how much money someone has in their pocket. People’s health around this new Hess energy center is going to be impacted again. Since the 19th century, Newark Ironbound has been a manufacturing hub, producing everything from iron to beer to paint. In the 1950s and 1960s, Ironbound’s Diamond Alkali/Diamond Shamrock Chemicals Corp. produced Agent Orange, a carcinogenic chemical weapon used extensively in the Vietnam War.

half hour before workshop Nicky Sheats, Steve Anderson, Peter Montague and Henry Rose strategizing

conference speakers, Ben Forest, Angela Clerico,Senator Jennifer Beck & David Pringle

Last year at the Conference, I was outraged when PurGen wanted to build a coal firing plant in Linden and the reason officials gave me was that Linden(already off the charts in asthmatic rates) had the infra-structure in place to support a plant which needed an ocean to dump waste into and railroad tracks to move coal. I raised my hand and pointed out that exactly the same railroad tracks and ocean run up and down the rest of the east coast. There was silence; always silence

Environmentally our time is running out. I voiced this to one of my favorite PhD speakers after his talk. Global warming and climate change is so here. The Pentagon even knows this and is beginning to project huge population shifts from coastlines and how it impacts our future security. I’ve been observing attitudes that if we put a man on the moon so fast, we can do anything but maybe once we can’t. Then I got cute. I told the PhD scientist about the movie ‘The Graduate’ when Dustin Hoffman’s character, Benjamin Braddock hears the word “plastics” at his graduation party. I’ve done the same thing to a myriad of graduates over the years. Most graduates never know what I’m talking about when I whisper, “plastics.” I recently whispered, “water” to my son instead. “America will get out of debt with China one day when we start shipping them water,” I said semi-seriously. But then the PhD smiled at me.

General Anderson addressing conference

I was pleased later in the day at the second workshop when I heard NJ State Senator Jennifer Beck mention how she voted against her Republican Party and Governor on certain environmental issues. We need more courage and commitment like that. I keep looking at big picture of things; the planet and how we keep ignoring, violating and nothing changes.

Amy Goldsmith, State Director, was honored for her amazing dedicated years of service and unlimited energy. Lisa Plevin, Chief of Staff USEPA, Gray Russell (a former rocker too) Environmental Coordinator, Montclair, John Weber, Northeast Regional Manager, Surfrider Foundation and Robert Westreich, Esq. (he never lost a case with First Amendment right to canvass neighborhoods throughout the state for over 20 years) all received Conference Awards. By the way, the luncheons are worth the price of admission alone.

with(retired) Brigadier General Steven Anderson

In the keynote address, Retired Brigadier General Steve Anderson electrified with his candor and passion for environmental change. Here’s a few of his quotes rapid fire. “We’ve got to get off oil. We won’t exist.” “The increased competition for oil is a threat to our security.” “Green economy is where the money is.” “President Obama was absolutely right when he stopped the Keystone pipeline.” General Anderson made a point as soon as he started to speak, saying he was a Republican. Sometimes he fooled me and other audience members. He just cares. “It’s a 20 year process to get off oil. We need to do it under our terms.” “1000 Americans died moving oil around over there. We spend $20 billion a year on oil. The Pentagon is the world’s largest consumer of energy.” “We are funding both sides of war. We buy oil and the money ends up in Iran.” “What troops need is renewable energy. Afghanistan has 340 days of sun; so harness solar. And wind, geothermal and waste to energy systems.” “How do we help? Pressure the Department of Defense (DOD).”

At the birthday party after the conference for the 40th year of ‘Clean Water Action,’ General Anderson was quite accessible. I managed to pay him my highest compliment, when I said, “Listening to you, I don’t think anyone could tell what political party you’re in which means you care about doing the right things for people.” He smiled and we took a picture together. Finally my exhortation to all those within earshot of me; “Get thee to the NJ Environmental Federation conference next year. And join the organization in the meantime.” I’ve heard it through the grapevine that both actions increases cerebral vascular circulation which makes you smarter.

asbury park ocean 2 blocks away. looks like southern california

backstage before awards ceremony

One goes through life and sometimes gets to look in an old attic mirror or through a looking glass or slips down a rabbit hole and manages to be a guest at a tea party. Since November, I’ve plunged into Jersey and Asbury Park music and somebody noticed me and my purist enthusiasm. I was set to cover the Jersey Acoustic Music (JAM) Awards a couple of weeks ago for NJ Discover TV when I got a call asking me to be a presenter at the prestigious awards in Asbury Park. I was overwhelmed and deeply honored; right up there with anything in this or any one of my past lives. I’d give the award for ‘Top Accompanying Musician.’ A little background music:

father and son reporting for njdiscover.com

emily grove winning award

Sometime ago, I discovered my writing effectiveness is more heightened if I experience the subject, emote, then draw from the gut to express. Hemingway, an idol of mine, was that way too; he drove an ambulance in World War I and wrote ‘A Farewell to Arms.’ I got to Asbury Park and site of the Third Annual Jersey Acoustic Music Awards nearly two hours early to begin feeling that special electricity in the air of the Stage Performance Hall at the Lutheran Atonement Church.

The Jersey Acoustic Music Awards honors original artists who tirelessly perform around the state at small venues. To prepare, on the Friday before the awards, I went to Point Pleasant’s Green Planet Coffeehouse to see Alexandra Inglis, a sixteen year old nominee (and winner) for ‘Top 18 and Under Performer’ and was, as they say, ‘blown away’ by her voice and lyrics.

what i look like as an award presenter with maggie beltran.

As the hall filled it became evident to this first time Acoustic awards attendee that most everyone knew one another in this special community of Jersey Acoustic Music. MC Anton Daub stressed the night was more about getting recognition from fellow musicians. A wondrous array of singers performed in the round throughout the program in between awards. Jo Wymer’s singing ‘dazzled.’ She liked my one word description of her then went on to win Top Female Performer. Emily Grove won Top Female Vocalist and perhaps was taken back when I mentioned writing about her talent in my blog nearly two years ago, after seeing her sing at Asbury Park’s Clearwater Festival.

16 yr old alexandra inglis performing

kevin john allen with choir . a powerful song.

A few weeks ago, I journeyed to the Strand Theatre for this amazing intimate interactive ‘Songwriters by the Sea’ Backstage event and saw Cat Cosentino sing. She won for Top Pop/Rock and deservedly so. I also met Lo Kloza nominated for Top Female Vocalist and Top New Act. Exuberant and excited, she mentioned her much anticipated CD release party at ‘Downtown’ in Red Bank on June 20th. With Jon Caspi’s ‘the little ones’ I was noticeably moved by his song of children in the African war zones being kidnapped and made into soldiers. Right out of sixties protestation; I was home.

anton daub singing to open awards.

a view of Rutgers Law looking up. i need to look up.

At intermission, strangely I wondered what folks do in Billings, Montana or near the Bridges of Madison County, Iowa, when they can sing but don’t have an Asbury Park, a musical mecca nearby. Kevin John Allen, nominated for Top Male Songwriter, performed the final song with a powerful emotional moving twist. He brought a number of singers together in a choir like mode to sing, ‘Jesus Could You Call Me’ from his new CD ‘Life’s Lonely Rodeo.’ Sounds of silence filled the hall while they sang. So here I am in the middle of all this magic music when a few months ago, I was eating large bowls of oatmeal, self-sprinkled with raisins and cinnamon (controls sugar metabolism) and wondering what I was doing with the rest of my life; now I presented an award at JAM to Taylor Hope, winner of Top Accompanying Musician.

The power of media; It was announced earlier today that name Mason is the number two baby name in America because a Kardashian named her son that. I wish media could rally folks into more proactive environmental stances. I finally figured out who and what I am in this world and what I’ve been most of my life since I looked at the world from a back window on a Newark bus. I am and always will be an eracist. I’d love to see racism erased. What a silly species we are; focusing on color or gender or God. Go sign the Kyoto protocol. Stop building polluting institutions where poor people live. And now to close, I’m whispering to you all, “water.” I’m going upstairs now to watch ‘The Graduate.’ April she will come. So will December and January. And I wish just one boutique food store would sell parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme next to each other in the herb/spices aisle.

http://www.hooplaha.com/getting-better-all-the-time/

HooplaHa Videos and Article LINKS to Check Out. Very Interesting!!!!

Judy Feinstein: Female Pilot:

Judy Feinstein pilot:

http://www.hooplaha.com/no-rearview-mirror/

Fatherhood:

http://www.hooplaha.com/fatherhood/

Ida Gonzalez: A Mother’s Journey to Light:

http://www.hooplaha.com/a-mothers-journey-to-light/

Common Sense Approach to Common Sense:

http://www.hooplaha.com/common-sense-approach-to-common-sense/

Flexitarianism:

http://www.hooplaha.com/flexitarianism/

Meryl Streep and Me:

http://www.hooplaha.com/meryl-streep-and-me/

A Real College Pep Band Video (yes 85 seconds):

http://www.hooplaha.com/rutgers-rah-a-college-pep-band/

Also a very worthwhile cause to read up on:

Butterfly Circle of Friends. http://www.butterflycircleoffriends.org

MY CONTACT INFORMATION

website: http://vichywater.net

Facebook: Cal Schwartz

Twitter: Earthood

Email: earthood@gmail.com

book trailer. hey its 65 seconds long

Vichy Water Book Trailer

http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=qj2ko9gcC

IMPORTANT LINK

If on Facebook check out this NJ Discover site:

https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100000125711074

OR www.njdiscover.com

LINKS TO VIDEOS. Please Watch.

1. ZOMBIE WALK October 22, 2011

Zombie Walk Asbury Park

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DfFA-y115nc&feature=autoshare

2. VETERANS DAY NJ VIETNAM MEMORIAL

Nov 11, 2011

Veterans Day at NJ Vietnam War Memorial

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fYwkaa_xreg&feature=related

3. RANDALL HAYWOOD & VICTOR JONES JAZZ CONCERT

Nov 19, 2011

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TNohzH8AHvM&feature=player_embedded

Comments (3)

April 26, 2012

My 7 Hours in a Mammography Office. Bruce Springsteen Madison Square Garden Concert: A Cerebral Review. Modern N.J. Suburbia and the Amazon River. Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) and Me. Bad American Companies. April 26, 2012

Filed under: November 2009 — Tags: Amazon River, Bruce Springsteen, Calvin Schwartz, Madison Square Garden, Mammography, MOMA, The Graduate — earthood @ 12:26 pm

my new wonderful home

Before my much anticipated Springsteen review; Immersion into Monmouth County music and art has caused a slippage into a time warp; I haven’t blogged in two weeks. Need to address that. Evolution is a wonderful world. No Darwin stuff here. Just a personal journey from starting blogging two years ago and of course, a novelist to a journalist in July, a writer and producer for both NJ Discover TV and HooplaHa in November.

a view from the train heading into Springsteen concert in NYC. There is beauty in a NJ smokestack.

A nor’easter hit New Jersey a few days ago. We needed the rain to avoid drought and suburban folks not being able to water their lawns on both even and odd days. I stopped watering my lawn 15 years ago and washing my car 20 years ago. Water everywhere, but not an endless supply of drops left. Down the salmon and even yellow colored brick roads, water will replace oil as the global commodity.

last scene from 'The Graduate' first scene was "plastics"

talking about red beetles being used to color starbucks strawberry frappes. small world.. this work art is from SICA Gallery in Asbury Park Arts NIght last sat. night.

For those of you who remember the movie, ‘The Graduate;’ the opening scene when one of Benjamin Braddock’s (Dustin Hoffman) parent’s friend whispers just one word to Ben, “Plastics.” I’m whispering here on my blog, “Water.” Perhaps, I can dig a well here in central Jersey, purify and bottle water in plastic made out of plants and call it ‘Jersey Shore Water’ and ship it over to China which will have a huge imported water market one day (My personal theory; when that happens, the USA wipes out its debt). I need to call my son in Williamsburg, Brooklyn where only under-30 year olds live and whisper to him, “Water in plastic.”

a view inside MOMA almost an art form in itself.

caught my eye. moma

Suburbia is a curious place. Not a prolific amount of adventurers here. I live on a corner house which parallels a main road with 40 mile/hour speed limit. Three houses in a row across that great street divide look out on my mostly weedy and yellow lawn. I don’t know any of the people in those houses and it’s been 20 years that we’ve been suburban neighbors. I said to my wife on Saturday as we were heading to Brooklyn and saw the middle house’s car pull out of the driveway, “I don’t know who they are. I wonder why. I guess 187 feet away is an insurmountable distance and it’s been two decades.” Silence filled the car. Intense thought does that. I was trying to understand how people 187 feet apart for 20 years have no clue who each other are. Not that there were ever any ‘We Like Ike’ or ‘Jimmy Carter’ political signs on our lawns. Maybe they’ve been put off with my yellow grass while they’re green. Then my wife introspected. ‘It’s another world over there, across the street.” Imagination played with my retina. I saw a sign, ‘Welcome to the Amazon River.’ Sure enough; it was a river, not black asphalt which separated us all these years. And on careful inspection, I saw those nasty piranha fish and was horrified yet redeemed in a convoluted way. Now I know why I never crossed over the river. Piranhas are nasty fish with a voracious appetite; so it’s been suburban self-preservation all these years. Absurd, isn’t it?

a step into abstract art at moma

actually inside this painting. that's me in the white sweater taking a pix of the painting.

So what’s this I hear about Wal-Mart bribing officials in Mexican towns to get quicker permits to build more stores? I don’t have a running love affair with American companies/corporations. In my novel, ‘Vichy Water,’ I postulated that ‘some’ American companies are collectively responsible for the deaths of more people than the Germans in World War II. Would that be 50 million lives? Easy to calculate; start with cigarettes (Just this morning I saw a commercial on NBC Today Show. “Smoking kills 25,000 people every year in New York State”), coal (soot) dust, food companies that love salt, car and drug companies that don’t recall, the power company in California that used poisonous hexavalent chromium (thanks Erin Brockovich), insurance companies who reject treatments, purveyors of trans-fat, plastics (that word again) that land in land-fills and decompose into poisonous phthalates and so on forever.

nuzzling up to a sculpture of pres Johnson with 3 birds in his hand. somebody in new jersey messaged me to stand up straight.

actually i am eye to eye with this.

Back to Wal-Mart. So there are 2100 Wal-Mart stores in Mexico and the word on the street; a lot of stores quickly; perhaps local town officials were allegedly (I love using this word) bribed by Wal-Mart, spending millions in bribes to get permits from local Mexican officials to build fast and tighten noose on competition. There are stringent American laws prohibiting bribing foreign officials punishable by heavy fines (duh) AND stiff prison sentences for company executives. Wal-Mart is concerned and looking into it. Once a decade or so I offer up one of my kidneys in a sure bet: no Wal-Mart official will ever go directly to jail; just like the ‘Monopoly’ game. Finally, Starbucks is NOT going to use red beetles/insects to color some of their strawberry frappes etc. instead using a lycopene (from tomatoes) derivative. Hey, lycopene is healthy stuff; a wonderful anti-oxidant; why not used all the time?

in the sculpture garden at moma. now i'm ready for a Springsteen concert

Two weeks ago my son and I went to the Bruce Springsteen concert in Madison Square Garden. To prepare cerebrally and emotionally, I got into the city eight hours before the concert and wandered, roamed and absorbed the world of the Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) to innervate neural ganglionic connections in my mind. And it worked. I was naturally and visually elevated, feeling the air beneath my wings and souls (soles) of my feet. I wonder so many things these days. One wonderment; how can a sedentary sofa compare to MOMA, Manhattan and fruit and pretzel stands on city sidewalks. Rather than more words at this juncture, MOMA and me pixs. My review of the Springsteen concert, more cerebral musings, was picked up by Facebook’s ‘Bruce Springsteen News’ because, like the ending of the Mickey Mouse Club song, they “liked it.” Review at end of blog.

Finally, nearly two years ago I convinced my wife to get a mammogram. Remember I’m the guy who blogs about living to 150 years all the time; she’s not as diligent with health issues. The deal was that I accompany her to the office for the exam. I went for the deal. And I also wound up spending nearly 6 hours 44 minutes sitting in gender solitude that day. What I experienced that day was powerful emotionally, more so than even walking around MOMA or going to a Springsteen concert and sitting on the floor. Emoting about the mammography office that day in August 2010, I started my blog that night and posted it. Thing is; my blog was young back then so not many folks may’ve seen it. Blog times have changed; 200,000 yearly visitors and growing. I think it needs reposting now; stylistically it became part of my stream of consciousness. And here’s that blog from August 2010 (it’s all archived. Even the follow-up blog to that)

BLOG:

suburban poetry: only Male in a special Mammography office. august 23, 2010

Calvin Schwartz

an august thursday last week. 10:30 am. i need to accompany and support. first sight. a painting of a woman, large prominent features, wings, surreal, tall as me.

two women assistants looked at me looking. one pointed with a long finger and i imagined, some kind of instrument used for cutting dense overgrowth in a jungle far away from central jersey. she pointed to a waiting, waiting room of varying comfort level of chairs, none soft and cushiony. a lonely box of kleenex on table near a book, ‘art of survival’, binder broken, pages ready to evacuate. anatomical paintings on wall; two half globes, america and australia. two lockets with small pictures of women. two half globes of a green mossy substance, small dinosaurs and dragons walking precariously on side. a painting of a planter covering a wide chest expanse, a vine escaping. reminded me of a bean stalk. i was jack for sure. looking around, wondering, imagining, asking myself questions. what if? why am i the only testosterone person here?(just the word i thought of too) music piped in through speaker directly over my head (what used to be my soft spot). my day of crossing canal coincidentally close. not just music, no elvis. no rap. no dusty springfield. no iris dement. no voices. lots of piano. 5 hours of this music. not music but a dirge dragging on. i was in the land of funereal thoughts. couldn’t help it. outside the window to my left, a courtyard separating a one story building with all glass walls and no people about. one lone tree notably branch neutered and not moving or blowing in the wind. i wondered if the operation made it lethargic. the sky was uncannily blue. not a cirrus or cumulous cloud for 5 hours. not one passing by to change view. why was i the only male here? the colors all around were beige, green and white. chairs were too. i was feeling ominous, beige and white and sickly.

a woman walked in with a clipboard. filled out a form. i was busy reading a primer on hemingway, the particular page about living life, experiencing and inventing. i was where i never dreamt to be. no eye contact with the woman. i think it was mutual, perhaps for me out of privacy respect. another woman walked in, dropped belongings and paced back and forth endlessly. i understood. i felt. that’s it. i started feeling things like never before. was i invading a private world. i still waited for gender company which never came. why was i the only male? i walked outside office looking for gender company. even my gender’s washroom, no gender company. the silence of a washroom, water splashing. strange but i was noticing things i never noticed. something was happening. surreal air in the conditioning system.

back to waiting room. even a crying baby would’ve worked to break an eerie silence. more women and clipboards. i started noticing faces. a sadness. a fear. a silence. one woman sat facing me. i tried to bury myself in book. there’s only so much clinical hemingway to absorb in an hour. an assistant walked in and handed that woman a large folder of x-rays or something. a few muffled words. a face left with no emotion. i saw fear. i wasn’t there. i was silent but felt i was changing. i think i was resolving to notice things in my world for the rest of my time in it. i couldn’t help it. i was changing. i hoped for gender company. none would ever come. another woman and a clipboard. another what if for me and then another one. hours passed. i didn’t even want one of the butter cookies on a tray in kitchenette(what a strange word, kitchenette). i wanted no water. i wanted no movement. i just noticed a painting was not perfectly level and the neutered tree which i realized was probably my gender was still not moving. maybe there was no wind. a mighty wind would win branch movement. i wondered about this special kind of place and a special kind of fear and it’s gender tender specialty. the dirge music annoyed but i knew why it was there. i noticed i’d been there a long time. patients have come and gone and i still sit, hemingway now resting near the lonely kleenex box. if i wrote tissue box would readers know? why am i the only male here? why is there such loneliness here? why am i so lonely? why am i still here? why hasn’t one of the pointing fingers come in to reassure and point me out?

finally an assistant. “just coming out now” i noticed her face, then a whisper, “we have to come back for a biopsy at 2:45pm” we drove around then some lettuce with balsamic to masticate, kills time. back in waiting room. more women no men. more clipboards. more fear. more noticing details. i was never so quiet for so many hours. a few more hours. more, what if? i wondered about erectile dysfunction and if that gets more money for research than where i am. there are no words as hard as i try to describe my evolution and revolution. i’ll notice and feel and be a better human. promise to myself.

lasting thoughts: a day without male company. a day of fear, unknown, feeling, noticing and thinking about words. two hours ago on this day of my birth, writing words, praying and communing. then a simple phone call that things are alright. happy birthday calvin. Best Gifts are simple life things. i noticed that.

NOW The BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN Madison Square Garden Concert REVIEW from

“Bruce Springsteen News’ on Facebook:

A review from Madison Square Garden April 9, 2012 by BSN’s own reporter @ Calvin Schwartz.

by Bruce Springsteen News on Wednesday, April 11, 2012 at 1:43pm ·

Springsteen Concert: Madison Square Garden, April 9, 2012: Electric Sociology Defined.

Calvin Schwartz, writer NJ Discover TV http://www.njdiscover.com/

Email: calvinbarryschwartz@gmail.com

Facebook: Cal Schwartz

http://vichywater.net/blog (a frequent blogger about Asbury Park, Jersey Shore and Springsteen geography)

a city sidewalk scene on the way to Springsteen concert

prodigal son 84 minutes before concert in MSG. note top right. the woman knitting to kill some time.

I’m a writer, blogger, reporter and novelist from central Jersey (two miles from Freehold), with leanings towards the cerebral side of life. I was asked to share a few thoughts on Monday night’s Bruce Springsteen concert. I’m not a music critic and I don’t ever want to be, but I love everything about Springsteen from the molecular point of view; as I search to describe myself. Molecular means that I’ve felt for the last several years, a fine particulate of Springsteen dust settling down on me. Dust you ask? Remember the old movie ‘Incredible Shrinking Man’ from 1957, when sparkly dust descends on this man in a boat and causes him to shrink into eternity. For me, in a positive way, this observed Springsteen magic has elevated (opposite of shrink) me; heightening an awareness for my central Jersey surroundings and made me a better writer. And as I descend on the places where Bruce is felt, like Asbury Park, I’ve noticed his magical dust is part of almost everyone. He is molecular; people feel him, his energy (he can’t be 62), caring and words. He lifts and elevates his home grown geography, meaning us here in Jersey and rock fans globally.

74 minutes before Springsteen concert. perhaps a new signature pix.

the AV desk. note the 2 Springsteen musical catalog books on right table.

Yesterday I had the need to be in New York, within two miles of Madison Square Garden, about 8 hours before the concert; I’d like to think for absorption of molecular incidentals, so I strolled semi-aimlessly around MOMA(Museum of Modern Art), all the time in high anticipation mode that soon I’d be on the floor of the Garden for Bruce Springsteen. My prodigal son and I woofed down a salad with extra string beans and jalapenos, hooked-up with son’s college friends for a beer, then I wandered inside the Garden about an hour before doors open. Being on the floor, I had the opportunity to roam around close to AV computers, where I caught sight of two Springsteen musical catalog books. Those books are probably needed by computer show people; you never know when Bruce decides to add a song, like he did with ‘Rosalita’ at the finale, even catching Steve van Zandt by surprise as I surmise.

27 minutes before Springsteen concert. prodigal son pondering elation.

Tribute to Clarence Clemons on the big screen

Why do I love Springsteen concerts? My need for first hand observations of “amazing electric sociology;” a term I conjured introspectively trying to come up with right words; the old ‘nail it’ philosophy. Watching meticulously as the Garden slowly filled with cravers of rock, you could sense everyone was waiting to have unbridled fun, standing, gyrating, singing, throwing digits and fingers into Springsteen molecularly charged air. I guess saying ‘palpable’ works, but there’s so much more involved. I think for first timers, and even for the regulars (I bumped into a Rutgers friend afterwards at Penn Station. It was his 102nd concert), this would be a life experience; they always are; like a meta-morphed cool cat with multiple lives; every time you go to a Springsteen concert, they’re never the same especially if you dig electric sociology.

one of the funnier cultural pixs: note utilization of cell phone cameras. kind of reminds me of scene from movie 'Starting Over" with Burt Reynolds and Jill Clayburgh. "Does any body have a valium?"

Springsteen on Stage

“New York, New York,” appropriately filled the Garden, the band arrived and Springsteen who is molecularly thoroughly Jersey, comments on the New York Giants winning but playing all home games in Jersey and perhaps renaming the Empire State Building to Jersey State but leaving it where it is. ‘Badlands’ blasted the audience into permanent stand upright positions. Bruce magically becomes part audience, turning, moving close to loyalists, even those sitting behind. He forgets no fan because it’s genuine love; electric sociology. That’s essential Bruce; in the audience chugging two beers, lying down and being elevated, picking a young boy from the audience to sing and slide across the stage and a young girl to dance in ‘Dancing in the Dark’ reminiscent of Courtney. Personally, I could listen to him sing ‘Jack of All Trades’ (me?) from ‘Wrecking Ball’ all night long like I’m doing now, inspiring my writing.

The concert went on all night long; electric sociology. Springsteen loves his audience; they love him back. To my left this 60 something man stood for three hours; moving, smiling, laughing, contorting, throwing hands into the air, loving every moment; that’s a Springsteen concert. Jake Clemons, Clarence’s nephew filled while the audience pulled; you could feel it; electric sociology. I closed my eyes a few times and listened to Jake. At the finale, the tribute to Clarence slowed my respiration; the love on the big screen evident while watching Bruce watch. Ah, the finale. Like an old coffee commercial for me, “Heavenly.” ‘Born to Run’ and Dancing in the Dark’ with a ‘10th Avenue Freeze Out.’ I watched carefully for as many signs of electric sociology; the love all around between Springsteen, the Band (they’re ALL amazing) and the audience. I thought about being in college for a moment; how what I’ve seen should be required reading or viewing for sociology, American history, European literature (Bruce is universal). No one left a seat to be first on a subway; electrically sociologically glued to our seats near where we stood all night. With my son, memories forever and bonding beyond comprehension. That’s my wrap on a typical molecularly Springsteen concert.