A baby is on the way

Jennifer and Paul Gabriele

We have just received word that Jennifer and my grandson Paul will be expecting their first baby in mid-June. We hasten to share this joyful news with all of our family and friends. Whereas we might have waited for Archangel Gabriel to make the announcement, on this occasion I decided to preempt him. Being family, I'm sure he won’t mind.

Lenore and I sowed a goodly number of seeds early in our marriage and it delights us that our progeny are beginning to do likewise. And now that we are quite along in years, these words by George Bernard Shaw have special meaning for us; "Life is a flame that is always burning itself out, but it catches fire again every time a baby is born."

Lux Veritas Aeternus

May His Beacon

Enlighten the ~ Way ~ for Everybody

Psalm 23
1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures; he leadeth me beside the still waters.

3 He restoreth my soul; he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake.

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life; and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Psalms of David, 23 1-6

An Ionic Column

Ionic Column ~ Left click on foto to enlarge it

Small replica (7.5" tall) of an original Ionic column

Hellenistic Greek, circa 300 B.C.

The model column pictured in the foto above (and referred to in the text below) was given to me as a Christmas Gift by my grandson Brian Starkey. What I truly admire about Brian is his emerging eclecticism, a trait I would like to believe he has derived from me. He procured this fascinating object, made of crushed marble, from the NYC Metropolitan Museum of Art.

In classical architecture, a column consists of a shaft, which usually rests on a base and is surmounted by an enlarged section known as a capital. The capital forms a visual and structural transition between the vertical shaft and the horizontal wall masonry, the entablature, under the roof. Columns placed in a line form a colonnade.

The Greeks developed three distinctive, carefully proportioned styles of columns ~ the Doric, Ionic and Corinthian. The Ionic column, which is more tapered than the Doric, rises from a richly molded circular base. The Romans added two types of columns to these, the Tuscan, an unfluted modification of the Doric, and the Composite, which had the Ionic shaft and a more ornate Corinthian capital.

The capital, base and portions of the shaft of an Ionic column, now in the Museum's collection, come from a monumental Temple constructed at Sardis, the capital of Lydia in Asia Minor (now Turkey). Construction began about 300 B.C., with the final phase of construction taking place in 150 A.D. (The Parthenon in Athens, has Doric columns).

The temple at Sardis, dedicated to Artemis, the Greek goddess of the hunt and of the Moon, ranks among the seven largest of all Greek Temples. The original column would have risen to a height of 56 ft. and was part of one of two similar pairs of columns that would have stood in the East and West porches of the Temple.

The shortened form of the column, now in the NYC Metropolitan Museum of Art, allows the viewer to appreciate the fine carving of the foliate ornaments on the capital as well as the fish-scale pattern on the torus molding at its base.

Letters to the NY Times

I have a perfect record sending letters to the New York Times; not one was ever published. This letter too, unerringly found its way to the Editor's "black hole" and my record remains unblemished ~

To the Editor:

Whereas I can very easily fantasy Maureen Dowd as a Witch of Endor, stirring her stew and humming, "Boil and bubble, toil and trouble," I can just as easily limn Thomas Friedman playing Potsy, that city sidewalk game, while hopping around on his Pogo stick.

Today, in his "Worth a Thousand Words," Friedman has once again landed on the right square. He clearly defines for us what this "Insurgent" violence is about. We are seeing a group of conscienceless nihilists, with undisclosed political identities or goals, on an unceasing killing rampage in order to keep the Iraqis from democratically acquiring some semblance of self-determination.

But it is woefully unfair of Friedman to take potshots at the very people who succeeded in bringing us to this defining moment of world history. And in all candor, is there really anyone who could have led us, bloodlessly, to this crucial point?

I believe that I've been able to maintain a zero acceptance record with the NY Times, because I have the temerity to be critical of their anointed writers - and as I have remarked in a previous posting, Maureen Dowd is within the thinness of a communion wafer from being canonized by the high priests of this newspaper's Editorial Staff.

Pop goes the Corker

What follows herewith is a letter I just received from Eoghan Ryan, a telecommunications manager, who lives in Cork, Ireland. He has known Amanda Strasberg for several years. She asked him to peruse our Strasberg Post and comment upon it. Surprisingly, it was his first encounter with a Blog. Whereas I had intended to use his foto to illustrate this Post of his letter to me, unfortunately none was forthcoming. However, Amanda e-mailed me the above jaunty drawing. The Irish traveling cap and the Shamrock projects my image of the lad ~

12/21/2004
Hello Dom.

I visited your Blog this afternoon on the recommendation of your grandniece Amanda. This was my first experience with a Blog, and I felt compelled to drop you a line and congratulate you on a fascinating read. I must confess to having spent the last hour reading your postings, to the detriment of my job this afternoon.

I work in the telecommunications industry, but ironically, I am often dismayed with people's inability to use the wonderful communications tools we have at our disposal, for anything other than convenience and profit. I am impressed not only with your content, but that you seem to be inspiring others to contribute. It strikes me that you have lived a remarkable and productive life and that even in retirement you are contributing beyond the norm.

I asked permission of Amanda to send you this mail and I think she was concerned that I may challenge some of your political commentary. However I have assured her that in fact, my intention was quite the opposite, as I am of the opinion that commentary and discourse in this day and age are every bit as valuable as the opinions, beliefs and culture which we represent as individuals. Amanda asked me to mention that I am not a local boy but from the other side of the pond, the wonderful (slight exaggeration) City of Cork on the South Coast of Ireland. Discourse, writing and journals have long been a part of Irish culture but as a country growing on the economic landscape we are in danger of losing some of our strengths as true communicators. Perhaps, I should champion the cause of the Blog over here?

Good luck and kind regards, Eoghan Ryan.

PS. If you should have any feedback as to the whereabouts of the famed beauty Helen. I would appreciate a heads-up, as I am still searching for my Helen and it is beginning to feel like a journey of Odysseus proportions.

To understand this allusion that Eoghan makes to Helen (Helen of Troy), I invite the reader to retrieve the embedded Post, "Leda and the Swan" To do so, please go to Archives and click on the month November. Then scroll down to 11/13/2004.

12/22/2004
Hi Dom,

I'm afraid Amanda is right, I don't have any pictures on my PC, but I'm delighted that you think my letter worthy of posting. I'm hoping that this kick starts me into writing a bit more frequently. I had dinner with some friends last night and I spent some time introducing them to the Blog idea. It seems that I'm not the only one who was ignorant of its existence. I have no doubt that, as is the case with most trends and technologies, it will migrate across the Atlantic very soon.

As for Helen/Amanda, well only time will tell!

Talk soon, Eoghan

From the Strasbergs

The Strasberg Family ~ Extended

What follows herewith was excerpted from a letter we just received from Adrienne, my niece, and Roger Strasberg. Standing to the right of Mara and Rob Freeman, in the above photo, is my sister Mary. Amanda, Mara's Maid of Honor is beside my sister and Roger is to the left of Adrienne. As most of us know, the Strasberg family has lived through a year it will not soon forget, a year of fearsome agony and unmatchable ecstasy

To our family and friends,

On April 17, Mara married Robert Parke Freeman Jr. at Our Lady of Sorrows Church. They were attended by fourteen bridesmaids and groomsmen, including Rob's sister, Saurin. Amanda was their Maid of Honor. The reception, held at the Westchester Country Club, featured dinner and dancing. One of the dances was a rousing tarantella complete with tambourines. Our new son-in-law Rob is absolutely wonderful. Rob, his father and Sandy, his mother have done a stellar job, raising such a warm and caring son. They have accepted Mara with open arms. We are truly blessed with our newly extended family.

Besides her duties as Mara's Maid of Honor, Amanda has been working hard at her job with FactSet Research Systems. Recently promoted to the position of Consulting Manager, she is now in charge of the Investment Banking Consultants for the U.S.A. We are very proud of her. This summer she purchased an alcove studio apartment on East 57th Street. Amazingly, we just discovered it is in the same building in which Adrienne's Uncle Alfred, a Commercial Illustrator, had his studio many years ago. Definitely a stroke of good fortune.

Although Roger continues to enjoy his retirement, he remains quite active. He has just completed a CNBC Financial Management course and will soon be auditing a course on the Foundations of Western Civilization. When he is not helping Amanda, Mara and Rob with their various projects, he finds time to play golf. Adrienne just keeps plugging along. She stays very busy with the kids and her Mom. She also does quilting for the Linus Project.

We thank everyone for their prayers and good wishes. They helped us enormously.We wish all of you all the blessings of the holiday season. Have good health, peace, happiness and a New Year filled with much joy and love.

With all our love, Adrienne and Roger

Janice M. DiGirolamo, R.I.P.

This Obituary was published in the Atlantic City News

DiGIROLAMO, JANICE M., 57 - of Hammonton , passed away at the Kessler Memorial hospital, Hammonton, on Wednesday, December 15, 2004. She was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Formerly of Voorhees, she was a resident of Hammonton for the past 15 years. She was a secretary for Dr. Scott Busch, DO, Hammonton. She also was a bartender and waitress and worked at the Kerne Brooke Caterers and the Frog Rock Country Club of Hammonton. Janice loved to read, travel, and interior decorate. Predeceased by her father, Peter F. Melfi, she is survived by her mother, Jean of Williamstown; a daughter, Carol (Jim) Kaiser of Elwood; two sons: Christian DiGirolamo of LaGuana Beach, California; Greg (Tina) DiGirolamo of Elwood; a brother, Peter G. Melfi (Loretta) of Washington Township; a granddaughter, Alexis Rose Kaiser; and her fiancé, Frank Bertino of Hammonton. Relatives and friends are invited to attend her viewing on Sunday, December 19, 2004 from 7 to 9 p.m. at the Landolfi Funeral Home, 237 Bellevue Avenue, Hammonton. The family requests memorials to PanCan, 2221 Rosecrans Avenue, Suite 131, El Segundo, CA 90245 or American Cancer Society, Attention: Web, P.O. Box 102454, Atlanta, Georgia 30368-2454.

Janice has been grievously ill during these past several months. She had a malignancy of her Pancreas which underwent very rapid metastasis. During the last stages of her illness the malignancy spread to her lungs. Her family and friends suffered with her until the very last moments of her premature death.

We join in extending our heartfelt condolences to all of the survivors of her family. Janice was dearly loved by everyone and it goes without saying, that she will be sorely missed.

Lorna earns Award

Lorna, her family and her Award

<<>> On December 14, 2004, my daughter Lorna Starkey received New York-Presbyterian Hospital's Annual Donald M. Hamilton, MD Award. Employees of the Westchester Division of the Hospital who demonstrate the highest degree of commitment to the hospital's therapeutic goals are eligible to be recipients. Lorna's nomination was submitted by her supervisor and it was supported by the testimonials of several clinicians. The Award Speech that follows, was made by Dr. Virginia Susman, Associate Medical Director of the Hospital.

I am honored to present the Hamilton Award to Lorna Starkey.She has been the model of Service Excellence long before this term was ever invented. The manner in which she interacts with others defines the consummate professional. She is always respectful, poised, kind and calm.Her profession involves assisting others and helping them to be the best they can be.

When she first joined the Hospital, she and one other secretary supported about 30 members of the junior faculty. Since that time she has moved on to support unit chiefs and division directors. Many of these faculty members have stated that she directly influenced their success. Without her poise, her organizational skills, guidance and support, they never could have achieved the levels of excellence that they have.

In collecting names for the petition, it became clear that this individual is well loved and highly respected by all she comes in contact with. She is extremely competent in her own job and willingly helps out others without hesitation. This Hamilton Award winner is retiring at the end of this month. She will be missed by all of us who have had the privilege of working with her.

Pipe dreams . . .

My cousin Johnny Porto and his wife Rita
5940 Pelican Bay Plaza, Gulfport, Florida 33707

On October 22, 1898, Johnny’s father (Antonino), Angelo (our Uncle Charlie), our Aunt Concetta and my mother arrived at Ellis Island from Sicily. They were brought here by their grandparents, Antonino and Concetta Panseca. Uncle Ignazio and our grandparents, Giovanni and Giuseppina Porto, got here at another time.

What needs to be noted about Johnny's father, my Uncle Tony, is that with only minimal schooling, and before he reached his mid twenties, he had already established himself as a Church and Cathedral, Pipe Organ installer. My family lived across the street from my Uncle and during my summer vacation periods, I used to enjoy working for him. He was a great teacher and I learned a great deal from him about pipe organs.

I doubt that anyone now reading this, has even the remotest idea of how gigantic in size a major Pipe Organ can be. In some large Churches and Cathedrals the space occupied by its Pipe Organ could approximate the cubic footage of a several room house. With its myriad arrays of pipes ranging from huge 10-ft tall wooden diapasons in the Pedal section to its smaller than pencil sized metal pipes in its Echo and Choir chambers, the pipe organ is truly one of the most inspired creations of man. The air that drives the system is provided by a colossal bellows that would be large enough to serve as a respirator for a dinosaur.

But to actually sit at the console of a Cathedral Pipe Organ, with its full panoply of foot pedals, its five keyboards and its countless stops, each connected to different groupings of pipes, is to experience an awe that can neither be described nor forgotten. And to close an incredible family circle, would you believe that another cousin of ours, also named Johnny Porto (Uncle Ignazio’s son) was for several years the chief organist at St. Patrick’s Cathedral in New York City?

My cousin needs to tell us more about this astonishing Porto acumen. Perhaps I can even get him to tell us about his own remarkable career as a modern Kitchen Planner and Installer. But let it not surprise you to also know, that the beautiful lady sitting up there beside him has her own trove of fantastic family stories to tell. We'll need to nudge her.

Ethiopia's Good Shepherd

An Ethiopian Christmas Card

Sister Mary James is a Good Shepherd Nun whom I have known for more than 40-years. We worked together at St Germaine's in Peekskill and then at Madonna Heights in Huntington, Long Island. She is a Social Worker without a peer. I have never met or known a more compassionate or more saintly soul. While most of us only hear or read about people who give their lives in humanitarian service, I have had the transcendent good fortune to actually know and be with such a person. During these latter years, it has been the poverty stricken people of Ethiopia who are now being sheltered under her benevolent umbrella.

Dear Everyone,

I returned here from Ethiopia on November 14. I need medical checkups and a little R & R. My return flight will be on December 28. In the meantime, it will be an unexpected joy, to celebrate Christmas with the sisters at Madonna Heights and my family.

For those of you who have visited Addis Ababa in the past, quite a few changes have been made in the name of modernization. There are several new buildings on the main road from the airport to the Prime Minister's palace. Some are as high as 12 stories. These are financed mainly by foreign investors. The first floors are reserved for shops and the upper floors for businesses. We certainly hope it will stimulate the economy. But it is hard to predict what will happen.

Many poor families have been moved out of their homes to the outskirts of the city. Housing there is better than what they had before, but if they have a job in the city, most of their wages are now spent on transport back and forth. Maybe this is how "suburbia" has to develop, but in the meantime, the poor keep getting poorer.

Much of the push to dress up the city is to keep the office of the African Union here in Addis Ababa. The president of Libya, I don't know how to spell his name, is determined to move the A.U. to his country. So when the African presidents, come here for meetings, the beggars and street children are swept off to the forests, so no one will know about our problems!

I wish all of you a very happy Christmas and a New Year filled with peace, joy and blessings! With my love and prayers always -

Sister Mary James

The Reverend says

Jim Covington sailing to Bermuda on Arkangel ~ 1981

From Reverend Jim Covington

Minister of the UU Fellowship at Croton, NY

Dom,
. From time to time I read something and think, "How I wish I could share this with everyone." Most of the time I don't, because I don't have the time. And you probably don't have the time either, especially nowadays, inundated as we all are with e-mail and stuff. But this time I am going to yield to that impulse.

. Recently, I read Bill Moyers' new book, "Moyers on America" - He is about to retire from his TV position, but I doubt he will fade completely away, at least I hope not. In these excerpts from his book, Moyers reflects on his own faith and on his "Genesis" TV series:

I am a journalist, but I am also a pilgrim. I believe that within the religious quest, in the deeper realm of spirituality that may well be the primal origin of all religion, lies what Gregg Easterbrook calls an essential aspect of the human prospect. Here is where we wrestle with questions of life and purpose, of meaning and loss, of yearning and hope. I am grateful to have first been exposed to those questions in my own Christian tradition.

As I too am grateful, J.C. -- Moyers continues: T.S. Eliot believed that no man has ever climbed to the higher stages of the spiritual life who has not been a believer in a particular religion, or at least a particular philosophy. As we dig deeper into our own religion, if we are lucky we break through to someone else digging deeper toward us from the core of their tradition, and on some transcendent level we converge, like the images inside a kaleidoscope, discovering new patterns of faith that illuminate our own journey. I respect the Christian story, my own story, even more for having come to see that all great religions grapple with things that matter. Although each may come out at a different place, each rises from within and expresses a lived human experience.

Buddhists have taught me about the delight of contemplation and the infinite within. From Muslims, I have learned about the nature of surrender. From Jews, about the power of the prophetic conscience. From Hindus, about realms of gold hidden in the depths of our hearts. From Confucianists, about the empathy necessary to sustain the fragile web of civilization.

I confess there is something liberating about no longer being quite so deaf to what others have to report from their experiences. They led me away from condescending toleration of other faiths to an anticipation and affirmation of positive engagement with them. In the words of the Jewish theologian Abraham Joshua Heschel, "No religion is an island. We are all involved with one another. Spiritual betrayal on the part of one affects the faith of all."

Since the [Genesis' television] series I am often asked to identify my favorite verse in the whole of Genesis. It is the third verse of the second chapter: And God blessed the seventh day, and sanctified it, because that in it he had rested from all his work which God created and made. I take this to mean that creation is not finished. Life is dynamic; like democracy it is continuously in renewal. Genesis is about the beginning. What happens to creation is up to us.

Couldn't have said it better myself, Jim Covington

Nor could have anyone else, Dom Gabriele

Our Walk-Weight Chart

We update this chart every month

<:> Lenore is 87 and I am 90. Comparatively speaking, we have always been and still are, relatively active. Whereas before I retired we used to be ardent sailors, we now play golf during the regular season and Lenore bowls every week in the Heritage Hills Bowling league. But, like so many other people here in Heritage, we are dedicated walkers. We try to walk at least a mile or two up and down our local hills every day, winter, summer, spring and fall. Indeed, road maintenance here is so assiduous we rarely have to worry about ice or accumulations of snow during the winter. And a little rain hardly ever dampens our resolve.

<:> But aside from these activities, Lenore is a "hausfrau" like none you have ever seen. Our residential unit has almost two flights of stairs. Undaunted, she is up and down those stairs with a vacuum cleaner, brooms and dusters nearly every day. Every room in our house receives her same determined attention. When I rise from our bed in the morning, and before I have taken two or three steps toward the bathroom, the bed is made. She is a whirlwind like none other in creation.

<:> However, the key to whatever fitness we both currently enjoy is our modest consumption of food. We do much of our cooking together and while we make truly delectable dishes, we have a healthy and natural aversion to overeating. We keep track of our daily weight and the distances we walk. Then at the end of each month we do the cumulative calculations you see in the chart above.

<:> While our record keeping may be obsessive-compulsive, we do find it self-disciplinary. And because we can keep our numbers and figures as constant as they appear on the chart, it provides us with an additional incentive to carry on with our simple routines.

What's a blog?

My grand-daughter Megan Kenney

Hi Papa,
Here’s an interesting note I just came across on the addition of the word "blog" to the Merriam dictionary.
Love,
Megan

Now here is a first:

<:> The Merriam-Webster dictionary says the word "blog" has earned a place on its list of the 10 words of the year. Merriam reports that "blog" ranks as one of the most looked up words on its Web site this year. The dictionary defines a "blog" as a Web site that contains an online personal journal with reflections, comments, and often hyperlinks.

<:> That is kind of a parochial definition considering the rich and wide variety of content out there. Blogs are, or can be, so much more. They represent the pinnacle of self-publishing. They exist within a greater universe often dubbed "the blogosphere" (now what are the chances that "blogosphere" will show up in the dictionary?) and are linked to one another by subject matter and tone. Many carry advertising, others don't. Some feature the snarky rantings of deranged lunatics, others serve up the private musings of misanthropic woodsmen.

Thank you Megan,
<:> It is good to know that we are on the edge of this envelope. It is always much more fun to ride waves of adventure than to live self-indulgently as a complacent couch potato. It pleases me greatly that I have been able to introduce myself as well as my family and friends to this newest and very exciting facet of cyberland. The welcome reception given to Tarry here awhile by all of you, has encouraged me to continue to probe the fathomless depths of this fascinating medium. How happy I am that we are all doing this, together. And Megan, you are so beautiful !