Well it's almost like the night before Christmas. If you look to the right-----> of this post, you'll see I've dragged the counter up from the bottom of the page, where it has been inconspicuously counting the many, many varied guests and visitors to PinF for the past 29 months. Visitor25K is soon to appear, and with that honor the many gifts and accolades such an honor bestow.
If I were a betting man, I'd say the the 25,000th visitor will be arriving sometime after midnite tonight, owing largely to the fact that visitations are normally low on week-end nights. However, anticipation is high, so it very well could happen tonight. Still, if it is you, let me know where you are, and who you in the world, and a PinFCard will be in the mail.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
Another Day in Paradise
Out for my morning stroll this morning I was reminded just how beautiful where I live is. It's easy to get caught up in the grind of life, and then you turn the corner and see this.Monday, October 22, 2007
Living In The Moments
PinF was witness to another path of convergence recently. His brother Rob, recently married in Mexico, was again pronounced husband to his lovely wife Mari in a civil ceremony, further establishing their new tax status. It was of course, a wonderful service filled with close family members, and an equally close collection of lifelong friends. The bitter sweetness of life was also included in the day, as the cousins' of the groom were in attendance after having just lost their mother---sister to the groom’s mother, to cancer several weeks ago. Proving yet again, that the force of life’s experiences, combined with the power of time’s sweeping hand, are both complimentary and symbiotic elements in the natural march forward.
Oddly enough these lessons became even more apparent when PinF would literally bump into one friend and be introduced to another later in the evening. The first was an old friend whose “experience” 25 years ago continues to alter the time in his life. To add the necessary symbiosis to the lesson, I was to also meet a new friend, one who would give testament to one of the most painful and powerful events in our nation’s history.
PinF saw the wheelchair parked at the edge of the crowded bar as people squeezed by in each direction either trying to get a glimpse of the jazz band or making their way out of the club. As I made my way to the bar to place an order I was startled by the feeble hand grabbing at my own, as quick as I looked down towards the wheelchair it was instantly apparent it was an old friend from high school, one I hadn’t seen or heard from in over 15 years. His is the kind of story that sets all your hardships and setbacks in life in proportion, and inside I felt a sort of guilt for having moved on and lived my life in the years since I had seen him last. Norman is his name, and he’s been paralyzed since 1983 when riding his bicycle down Wallingford Ave. he was stuck from behind and left in the road paralyzed by a never identified hit and run driver. He has never walked since, and has limited use of his hands and arms. I quickly thought of all the things I’ve been able to experience and do in my life—all of them things he hasn’t, nor probably ever will. I asked how he was, what he’d been doing; all seemingly shallow questions when you understand his reality. He said he’d been living in Boca Raton and seeking treatment at Nick Buoniconti Spinal Cord Research known as the Miami Project in hope of finding a cure so that he might walk again.
Norman had recently moved home to Wallingford, his hopes apparently dashed. Sad stuff to be sure. He was quite despondent, and spoke of “ending it all”, something that isn’t easily countered in a crowded bar with lot’s of noise, not to mention the downer that alcohol is. I offered what words of encouragement I could and we drifted through other less sad memories and painful times, he seemed to cheer up. He eventually moved on, his wheelchair being pushed by other old friends, one’s who’ve remained in Norman’s life ever since this tragedy struck down the once muscular and motivated youth. The striking contrasts were hard to ignore, the mutual friends—true friends at that, who have been pushing that wheelchair for decades, they now have families of their own, yet remain loyal and dutiful. Norman however remains in a wheelchair, trapped in time, dependent on others for his every need. What the anonymous driver of the car that hit him on that dark night 25 years ago didn’t steal, time and despair have slowly and steadily managed to --- hope.
Equally interesting though no less heart wrenching was the next friend PinF was to make on this night. An old college buddy of a friend of mine was in town to watch a football game. He was bringing along his 20 year old Penn State undergrad son, of whom after speaking with him, I discovered he is immensely proud of. He’s a good student, living away from home for the first time and excelling with his studies. His parent’s like any first time parents who send a child away for college were naturally reticent and a bit worried. They live on Long Island and their son is all the way up in Happy Valley. This father had a message of a different kind, his one of true hope borne of loss. It seems that all his worry was not based on the fact that the son was living away from home, but rather it was based on the fact that his son was living with an incurable disease yet he continued to strive, live, and accomplish. The father was immensely proud. He’s also worried, for his son lives on timetable of unknown length owing largely to the fact that his disease has an expected life span of not many more years than his son already is. His son is living with Cystic Fibrosis. As much as this may have sounded like a bummer, it was actually quite uplifting to hear especially when I heard the father’s story behind the story.
This friend bore witness to his own brother’s death not but 6 years ago when he arrived to work on the 24 floor of his office adjacent to the World Trade Towers on September 11th, 2001. Upon arriving he was greeted with frantic phone messages from his elderly mother, he returned the call and was told to turn on a television that her son and his brother were in trouble. He knew immediately the reason--his brother, a broker for Cantor Fitzgerald was trapped above the impact floors of the WTT along with 657 other work mates. He quickly placed calls to his brother and was met by a calm, deliberate voice who assured him he was alright, he would get out, and to let his mother know that she shouldn’t worry. My new friend commented on how his brother was a tough guy, a former boxer, and a real go-getter. He repeatedly spoke to his mother and brother that morning assuring them he was on his way down. Of course by now he knows better—that his brother was in fact trapped, and had no chance of exiting the building. He also knows his brother most certainly knew the severity of his situation after witnessing the second tower attack.
With horror, he watched his brother’s building collapse, and with this collapse went his hope. Of all the people I’ve either heard or read accounts from of this day, this was the first who calmly related the horror of the day while also having been directly affected with the pain and sting of a personal loss. Perhaps this event had a large role in his sons’ realization of his dream to attend university—no matter how much time he had. It also spoke of how hard it must be to let any child go, let alone one with a fatal disease, when in fact that child is quite possibly living his last year’s--- and away from home at that.
So here were two totally unrelated people; each carrying incredibly personal and heavy burdens, both of them under the same roof. Their only connection was the fact that I heard both their stories and felt both their pains.
Still, although sad, each one of these men had a valuable lesson to offer; one offered a stark reminder in appreciating that which you have, though we all might occasionally complain about ---for it could be gone in a second. The other lesson was equally stirring---about having the courage to face what seems like cruel circumstance, and evil odds--- because sometimes with hope and a prayer you can overcome those odds. the biggest loser, wwe, rose bowl, college football, nfl,
Oddly enough these lessons became even more apparent when PinF would literally bump into one friend and be introduced to another later in the evening. The first was an old friend whose “experience” 25 years ago continues to alter the time in his life. To add the necessary symbiosis to the lesson, I was to also meet a new friend, one who would give testament to one of the most painful and powerful events in our nation’s history.
PinF saw the wheelchair parked at the edge of the crowded bar as people squeezed by in each direction either trying to get a glimpse of the jazz band or making their way out of the club. As I made my way to the bar to place an order I was startled by the feeble hand grabbing at my own, as quick as I looked down towards the wheelchair it was instantly apparent it was an old friend from high school, one I hadn’t seen or heard from in over 15 years. His is the kind of story that sets all your hardships and setbacks in life in proportion, and inside I felt a sort of guilt for having moved on and lived my life in the years since I had seen him last. Norman is his name, and he’s been paralyzed since 1983 when riding his bicycle down Wallingford Ave. he was stuck from behind and left in the road paralyzed by a never identified hit and run driver. He has never walked since, and has limited use of his hands and arms. I quickly thought of all the things I’ve been able to experience and do in my life—all of them things he hasn’t, nor probably ever will. I asked how he was, what he’d been doing; all seemingly shallow questions when you understand his reality. He said he’d been living in Boca Raton and seeking treatment at Nick Buoniconti Spinal Cord Research known as the Miami Project in hope of finding a cure so that he might walk again.
Norman had recently moved home to Wallingford, his hopes apparently dashed. Sad stuff to be sure. He was quite despondent, and spoke of “ending it all”, something that isn’t easily countered in a crowded bar with lot’s of noise, not to mention the downer that alcohol is. I offered what words of encouragement I could and we drifted through other less sad memories and painful times, he seemed to cheer up. He eventually moved on, his wheelchair being pushed by other old friends, one’s who’ve remained in Norman’s life ever since this tragedy struck down the once muscular and motivated youth. The striking contrasts were hard to ignore, the mutual friends—true friends at that, who have been pushing that wheelchair for decades, they now have families of their own, yet remain loyal and dutiful. Norman however remains in a wheelchair, trapped in time, dependent on others for his every need. What the anonymous driver of the car that hit him on that dark night 25 years ago didn’t steal, time and despair have slowly and steadily managed to --- hope.
Equally interesting though no less heart wrenching was the next friend PinF was to make on this night. An old college buddy of a friend of mine was in town to watch a football game. He was bringing along his 20 year old Penn State undergrad son, of whom after speaking with him, I discovered he is immensely proud of. He’s a good student, living away from home for the first time and excelling with his studies. His parent’s like any first time parents who send a child away for college were naturally reticent and a bit worried. They live on Long Island and their son is all the way up in Happy Valley. This father had a message of a different kind, his one of true hope borne of loss. It seems that all his worry was not based on the fact that the son was living away from home, but rather it was based on the fact that his son was living with an incurable disease yet he continued to strive, live, and accomplish. The father was immensely proud. He’s also worried, for his son lives on timetable of unknown length owing largely to the fact that his disease has an expected life span of not many more years than his son already is. His son is living with Cystic Fibrosis. As much as this may have sounded like a bummer, it was actually quite uplifting to hear especially when I heard the father’s story behind the story.
This friend bore witness to his own brother’s death not but 6 years ago when he arrived to work on the 24 floor of his office adjacent to the World Trade Towers on September 11th, 2001. Upon arriving he was greeted with frantic phone messages from his elderly mother, he returned the call and was told to turn on a television that her son and his brother were in trouble. He knew immediately the reason--his brother, a broker for Cantor Fitzgerald was trapped above the impact floors of the WTT along with 657 other work mates. He quickly placed calls to his brother and was met by a calm, deliberate voice who assured him he was alright, he would get out, and to let his mother know that she shouldn’t worry. My new friend commented on how his brother was a tough guy, a former boxer, and a real go-getter. He repeatedly spoke to his mother and brother that morning assuring them he was on his way down. Of course by now he knows better—that his brother was in fact trapped, and had no chance of exiting the building. He also knows his brother most certainly knew the severity of his situation after witnessing the second tower attack.
With horror, he watched his brother’s building collapse, and with this collapse went his hope. Of all the people I’ve either heard or read accounts from of this day, this was the first who calmly related the horror of the day while also having been directly affected with the pain and sting of a personal loss. Perhaps this event had a large role in his sons’ realization of his dream to attend university—no matter how much time he had. It also spoke of how hard it must be to let any child go, let alone one with a fatal disease, when in fact that child is quite possibly living his last year’s--- and away from home at that.
So here were two totally unrelated people; each carrying incredibly personal and heavy burdens, both of them under the same roof. Their only connection was the fact that I heard both their stories and felt both their pains.
Still, although sad, each one of these men had a valuable lesson to offer; one offered a stark reminder in appreciating that which you have, though we all might occasionally complain about ---for it could be gone in a second. The other lesson was equally stirring---about having the courage to face what seems like cruel circumstance, and evil odds--- because sometimes with hope and a prayer you can overcome those odds. the biggest loser, wwe, rose bowl, college football, nfl,
Saturday, October 13, 2007
24 HOURS WITH THE PinF's
More photos today---the 1st Green Market of the season....fall like weather (mid 80's)....oh and big news...Sophia updated her blog!! I'll add the new photos later...............
Started the day looking for some new surf wear for Sophia, waves were up and Sophie needed some new board shorts. ...........
Started the day looking for some new surf wear for Sophia, waves were up and Sophie needed some new board shorts. ...........
Started this running log last night with a sunset swim....let's see what fun we can get up today....we'll update later---
Tuesday, October 09, 2007
World Wide Inspiration
Slowly and ever so silently, yet steadily and consistently, like the ticking of the clock. Everyday just watching, recording and reporting each visit to each page; the location the visitor came from, how long he stayed and what caught his or her eye. Maybe they commented publicly or maybe as is often the case—privately, to my email. Some are known, many are not; some are from places I’ve visited others, from places I hope to visit one day.
The PinF count is set to reach another milestone very soon. Thirty months ago PinF was launched, destination--clearly unknown. What started as more of a novelty to goof off with distant friends, PinF has slowly evolved into the online personal journal it is today due primarily to the influence of external forces-- AKA change, that we call life. These experiences-- travels, laughs, and tears are by no means unique to PinF alone. Nor for that matter is the experience of raising a daughter as a divorced father. What is unique is the influence that these experiences have had and the power of translation this Blog has given to such experiences.
The good, the bad, the happy and the sad, the adventures and travels, including the trips and falls, the countless steps—both forward and sometimes back, almost all of theses stories have graced this site. PinF could never have considered maintaining such a public log of his journey 30 months ago. At that point in time the life of PinF was day-by-day, due to radical changes in the personal life of its author. Still, the ability of being able to look back is always a blessing to remind one of the temporary nature of the passing storms of life. What at one time may have seemed either insurmountable, too painful, or unimaginable, slowly just becomes just another day in the life—for better or for worse.
I have, through this Blog, communicated, laughed, shared, and indeed become friends with hundreds of people the world over. Strange really, that perfect strangers feel as they know you, and in a way they often do, better than people who know you in the physical sense. Because they’ve read between the lines, they’ve recognized the shared pains, triumphs and day-to-day life experiences and because the forum AKA as PinF has bothered to express what has often seemed boring or routine. Still, PinF receives emails from as far as Australia telling me how these experiences were exactly like something that happened to them. That’s kind of cool, when your daily drivel can have that ripple-on-a-pond effect.
I’m often at a point where I think I’m going to just let it end, no official sign off, just a kind of fade to black. Just then, I'’ll be doing something that'll strike my interest (or ire), or as is often the case, someone will write me a note or comment that makes me want to write “one more” post. Hell like I said, I never imagined I’d have written 170 essays in 840 days, visited by 24,400 people, who’ve read over 45,000 pages. That seems bizarre to me. But these are the numbers I’m told, and from over 70 countries no less. I imagine I’ll hit 25,000 visitors by the end of October give or take, I’m wondering what I can do to mark that milestone. (any ideas?)
In any event, the whole experience of PinF were it to end tomorrow, has been such a rich exercise in global positioning, one that's been worth all the experiences I’ve lived through, both good, and bad in order to generate these posts. In that I mean, that knowing my everyday simple yet complex life of rich thought and often simple experiences is read by any number of people in any number of foreign lands is a reassuring, humbling, and nice thought.
Paynter may be in Florida, but he’s in Great Britain, New York, Zimbabwe, Brighton, Moscow, Dallas, Copenhagen, Chicago, Bergen, Atlanta, Brussels, Malta, Akron, Sweden, Washington, Greece and Ireland as well as many, many others............
Thanks to ALL of you, everywhere you are.
The PinF count is set to reach another milestone very soon. Thirty months ago PinF was launched, destination--clearly unknown. What started as more of a novelty to goof off with distant friends, PinF has slowly evolved into the online personal journal it is today due primarily to the influence of external forces-- AKA change, that we call life. These experiences-- travels, laughs, and tears are by no means unique to PinF alone. Nor for that matter is the experience of raising a daughter as a divorced father. What is unique is the influence that these experiences have had and the power of translation this Blog has given to such experiences.
The good, the bad, the happy and the sad, the adventures and travels, including the trips and falls, the countless steps—both forward and sometimes back, almost all of theses stories have graced this site. PinF could never have considered maintaining such a public log of his journey 30 months ago. At that point in time the life of PinF was day-by-day, due to radical changes in the personal life of its author. Still, the ability of being able to look back is always a blessing to remind one of the temporary nature of the passing storms of life. What at one time may have seemed either insurmountable, too painful, or unimaginable, slowly just becomes just another day in the life—for better or for worse.
I have, through this Blog, communicated, laughed, shared, and indeed become friends with hundreds of people the world over. Strange really, that perfect strangers feel as they know you, and in a way they often do, better than people who know you in the physical sense. Because they’ve read between the lines, they’ve recognized the shared pains, triumphs and day-to-day life experiences and because the forum AKA as PinF has bothered to express what has often seemed boring or routine. Still, PinF receives emails from as far as Australia telling me how these experiences were exactly like something that happened to them. That’s kind of cool, when your daily drivel can have that ripple-on-a-pond effect.
I’m often at a point where I think I’m going to just let it end, no official sign off, just a kind of fade to black. Just then, I'’ll be doing something that'll strike my interest (or ire), or as is often the case, someone will write me a note or comment that makes me want to write “one more” post. Hell like I said, I never imagined I’d have written 170 essays in 840 days, visited by 24,400 people, who’ve read over 45,000 pages. That seems bizarre to me. But these are the numbers I’m told, and from over 70 countries no less. I imagine I’ll hit 25,000 visitors by the end of October give or take, I’m wondering what I can do to mark that milestone. (any ideas?)
In any event, the whole experience of PinF were it to end tomorrow, has been such a rich exercise in global positioning, one that's been worth all the experiences I’ve lived through, both good, and bad in order to generate these posts. In that I mean, that knowing my everyday simple yet complex life of rich thought and often simple experiences is read by any number of people in any number of foreign lands is a reassuring, humbling, and nice thought.
Paynter may be in Florida, but he’s in Great Britain, New York, Zimbabwe, Brighton, Moscow, Dallas, Copenhagen, Chicago, Bergen, Atlanta, Brussels, Malta, Akron, Sweden, Washington, Greece and Ireland as well as many, many others............
Thanks to ALL of you, everywhere you are.
Tuesday, October 02, 2007
Turtles and Books
Windy Tuesday in Florida. So windy that PinF and Sophia had to head on over to the beach themselves to see firsthand the devastation being inflicted upon our coasts. Aside from the all too familiar condo owners bemoaning the loss of sand on their beaches, there was an even greater concern for the PinF's. Hundred's if not thousands of turtle nests have been lost the past several days all along the treasure coast of Florida as 10+ foot seas have ravaged us.We approached the beach with caution. What had once been beaches at least 40 yards deep have now been reduced to maybe 10 yards of sand followed by a sheer drop of maybe 4-6 feet into the angry, churned up sea. The sight of it is a bit overwhelming, what with the site of hundreds of ping-pong ball looking turtle eggs scattered about and the eroded coast it certainly warrants listening to the experts about rising seas.
After shooting some photos, collecting a few empty turtle eggs for Sophia's science class we were off. I had a score to settle with little Pin
F for an exemplary week of school last week. Proud papi that I am, I found myself almost surprised when after returning home from school after her induction into the Student of the Month club last week, Sophia informed me she needed my help writing a speech. A speech I asked, for S-of-the-M? Sophia told me no, not for that. For what I asked? Student Council she replied. I didn't even know there was SC in 4th grade, nevertheless it was clear she wasn't resting on S-of-the-M laurels, so I told her to write the speech and i would edit it. Sophia informed she was one of 5 "candidates" and they all had to give 
their speeches and then vote afterward. Wow, I thought-- what moxie.So it was she shipped off to school that next morning, she and I practicing the speech for the umpteenth time, right up until when she bailed out in front of the school. Unflappable Sophie was ready, she certainly seemed a lot calmer than me. I told her to call me first thing after school. I was confident, but then again you know how kids are, issues mean nothing, alliances and cliques mean everything. Her issues? recycling, and school store hours--getting them improved. She also proposes placing a question box in her class where her classmates can drop questions and concerns they want raised when their representative goes to student council. They loved this idea, her opponent went the sweet tooth route---and age old ploy. Promising smoothies in the lunchroom, something I never knew any 4th grader to deliver on.
Bottom line--Sophia Wins!!!....Certainly a week for her to remember, first S-of-the-M and now this. I told her she just earned a nice trip to Barnes & Noble for her accomplishments, something we've been doing since she was about 3 when I gave her the option of one Chinese made piece of toy crap, or five books. She's always taken the books. Plus I knew from NPR that there was an excellent new novel out, primarily for teens, but her reading comprehension, not to mention appetite demands more of a challenge anyway.
The result? Sophia went to bed a little early so she could read some more of "Click". What a neat book, I suspect it won't be long before it's a national best seller. I'm gonna read it after her as it looks so well written I think I'll enjoy it too. I know she does. paris hilton, pakistan, iraq, bhutto, brittney spears, breast, alicia keys, justin timberlake, kenya, oil, dollar, hollywood, sex,
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