Archive for the ‘Personal’ Category

Greeted by Nature Today at the Perfect Time

The Esposito Trail was sunny and empty save for the occasional bicyclist or person walking a dog. We politely smiled at one another as we passed, I with shoes and a jacket and a camera, they with shorts, tee shirts and sneakers. Not longer after I began walking I saw a black bird that posed for me, a contrast with the Thruway’s background traffic noise.

Even more remarkable was the white butterfly that gracefully flitted around me. I said, “Hi, daddy,” as I always do when nature comes near me, then asked it to please stop so I could take its picture. To my amazement, it glided gently to the ground in front of me and folded its wings, and after I clicked the camera button it flitted around me again before flying away.

I miss my dad so much it hurts at times. Tomorrow will be four and one-half-years to the day he left us. The word is died; that’s hard to say and even more painful to write. Today’s walk was peaceful even as I passed trees marked with orange dots and wooden posts tied with what looked like pink plastic and that had letters and numbers written on them.

Several trees on the South Nyack side (not the Thruway side) were down, and the fact that others were marked indicated what was to come. People walked in the middle of the path as I did, moving to the right when we approached each other from opposite directions.

To reiterate how I felt last year and still do, it’s hard to imagine what it will be like walking the trail, which will remain cinder, once the new path is built. Good news is I’ll still have to brush off the bottoms of my shoes before getting back into the car.

I’d like to know what you think.

Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2018

On My Mind: Someone, Somewhere cursing at Me

Photo of a manual typewriter’s typebars & keyboard/Credit Rafaela Biazi (@rafaelabiazi)

“Everyone has a story and needs someone to tell it,” my editor said from across his desk. I was in his office asking for advice about how to angle a particular story. “You’ll do fine.”

That became the tag line for my business card because it’s what journalism means to me. It’s storytelling, being the voice for someone who has a cause, a reason, a concern. It allows me entrance into others’ lives for a time, to listen and see and then to share what I heard and saw, to give them a wider audience.

The last line of every blog post here is “I’d like to know what you think.” I first heard it years ago, when veteran journalist and MSNBC host Ed Schultz would tell his audience, “Get your cell phones out. I want to know what you think.”

Schultz died last week at the age of 64, an untimely death, I read. I remember watching him years ago cover voters’ efforts to recall Wisconsin Governor Scott Walker. Not sure why this comes to mind as does Rachel Maddow’s coverage of the Flint, Michigan, water crisis that some say has not been resolved.

“If it pisses off one person, then one person read it,” another editor told me during my early reporting years. It encouraged me that somewhere out there, someone was cursing at me.

Another important piece of information came from my first editor at The Reporter Dispatch (now the Journal News) city desk. We used typewriters. Bob Thompson sat to my right and had longish hair, wore glasses and always wore a suit and a tie. “Remember, the name is The New York Times,” he told me. “All four words in the name start with capital letters.”

To this day, I cringe when editors at established and respected publications let stories with the New York Times slip past them and onto readers. How does that happen?

I am proud of my work and take this very seriously. “Off the record” IS “off the record,” and confidences told to me stay with me. There is no reason to create “fake news” or trash media when you don’t like the truth we’re reporting. One editor last year dropped a story she assigned when she felt running it would cost her an advertiser. To me, that meant she valued money more than truth.

I credit photographers, artists and other writers when I use their work. The above photo of a manual typewriter’s typebars and keyboard was taken by Rafaela Biazi (@rafaelabiazi).

When the leader of the free world trashes our free press it hurts everyone. If you don’t like the news that’s reported about you, Mr. President, then change what you are doing and saying.

I’d like to know what you think.

Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2018

Solace and the Familiar Smell of the Ocean

Today was a beautiful day with a blue sky and blue river, perfect for checking out the project from the viewing area at Nyack’s Memorial Park. Mom loved people-watching from the car, eating ice cream and happy to spend a few hours with me. I missed her this afternoon.

The Hudson River smelled comforting like the ocean as I walked to the viewing area. One woman was sitting in the sun and returned my smile and comment. “I come here with the kids and don’t have to drive,” she said.

Since I was one of the few — very few — drivers holding to the speed limit, I was able to capture one of the crew working on the new maintenance building. This is where the shared use path will begin so it’s a good time to let you know I’ve been walking between seven and 10 miles per week for when the path opens in 2019.

This 12-foot-wide path (far right lane in the photo above) might fit three people abreast comfortably. Can’t see how people and bicycles can peaceably coexist on the path, especially if the walkers are strolling casually. Let’s hope so.

I’d like to know what you think.

Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2018

On Father’s Day: I Miss You So Much It Hurts

Dad’s not been with us for four years and four months.

movie star dad Years ago I wrote about car trips with mom and dad and crossing the bridge. I talk to him, look for him in darkened rooms, hear his voice in silence, see his smile and twinkling eyes. Dad had twinkling brown eyes. That one week he rebounded, all his senses came alive.

Tuesday night he’d have asked what assignment I was working on and if other people would be with me, and he’d double-check to make sure he had my cell phone number.

He and mom would ask me to call them.

Dad wasn’t here Wednesday when I drove to Haverstraw Marina. I spoke with mom that morning and called her several times during the day. She’s 91, bless her, and had hip replacement surgery four years ago, and a partial knee replacement the following year. I’d hoped to take her to see the bridge project from RiverWalk Park and the Tarrytown viewing area.

She really wanted to see the crane and settled for seeing it from the car.

Dad would be smiling when I got home and showed him pictures of what I was looking at as it happened. I wrote in an earlier post he and mom married two months before the bridge opened. This is my fifth Father’s Day without him, and I miss him more than I did when I learned he died.

Happy Father’s Day to you and yours.

Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2018

Disappearing from the River Piece by Piece

Looking as gloomy and sad as the weather, the Tappan Zee Bridge’s dissected main span glared at drivers or so it seemed. I was driving home in early afternoon after viewing the old bridge and its replacement from river level on a paddle wheeler. It was a treat made sweeter by a new hip joint that allowed me to painlessly walk around on both levels of our tour boat. And those were steep stairs!

The bridge that holds memories for many was rapidly shrinking and seemed small next to the eight main span towers and their supporting stay cables. Nearly two years ago, I penned a blog post that might have been what the bridge would have said if it could talk. The bridge. It will always be the bridge.

I’d like to know what you think.

Copyright © Janie Rosman and Kaleidoscope Eyes 2018

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