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One Sweet Award And Paying It Forward

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One Sweet Award - the Liebster Blog AwardBy Judy Berman

I’m a procrastinator. That’s the only explanation I can give for not immediately acknowledging that I had been nominated for the Liebster Award.

You might think, “Why didn’t you do this sooner? It’s not like you have to get all dolled up for the Oscars and walk the red carpet, fending off the paparazzi popping flash bulbs in your face.” You’re right.

“Liebster” (pronounced leeb-stir) is a German word meaning “sweetest,” “favorite” or “dearest.” This award, which originated in Germany, recognizes up-and-coming bloggers. Some I listed may not fall in this category, but I truly do enjoy them and recommend you give them a look.

In researching the award, I found that the rules vary. I, of course, chose the shortened version:

  • Thank the person who gave me the award and link back to their blog.
  • Copy and paste the award to my blog.
  • Reveal the 5 blogs I have chosen to award and let them know by commenting on their blog.
  • Pay it forward by awarding to bloggers I would like to honor.

So, here’s my official – and belated – thank you, Tina of Daysift, for nominating me for this prestigious award. My apologies, in advance, for breaking the rules.

Tina posts stories of family that kick-start me thinking about my own, photos of signs that will make you laugh and/or give you hope. Tina’s blog is always a treat. You can check out her blog at this link: http://daysift.com/

Here are the five blogs that I have chosen to receive this award. Please check out their great blogs:

1. Deb Adams – Art – http://adamsart.wordpress.com/

2. Jasmine Kyle – http://jasminekylesings.wordpress.com/

3. George Arthur White, photography and stories -
http://georgearthurwhite.wordpress.com/

4. Marilyn Warner – Things I Want to Tell My Mother - http://warnerwriting.wordpress.com/

5. Peter Cawdron – Thinking Sci-Fi - http://thinkingscifi.wordpress.com/

There are many excellent blogs on WordPress. These are just a few of the ones I really enjoy. Happy New Year to everyone. May it be a most excellent year for you … and for all of us.

A Lovely Award

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By Judy Berman

The hour was late, and the news so delightful. Ronnie Hammer of Morristownmemos nominated me for The Lovely Blogger Award.

One Lovely Blogger Award

One Lovely Blogger Award

When you write, you are alone. When you publish it, you are ready to share it with the world. How wonderful to be recognized by someone whose writing I admire. Some of her stories have made me chuckle, while others have made me pause to reflect. She recently wrote about viewing old family photos and asking how we feel when we see our past through these images. It prompted me to write a reflection of my own, “A Look Into the Rear-View Mirror.”

Ronnie Hammer’s blog is at: http://morristownmemos.wordpress.com/

As a recipient of this award, I need to fulfill certain obligations. They are:

  • Thank the person who nominated me and link back to them in my post.
  • Share seven things about me.
  • Nominate 15 other bloggers.
  • Leave a comment on their blogs letting them know that they have been nominated.

The seven things about me are:

1)     I’m a former cops reporter.

2)     I’m a teacher by day, and writer by night.

3)     My best friend, my husband Dave, edits my blog – at my request.

4)     Alfred Hitchcock is one of my favorite movie directors.

5)     I love Nora Ephron’s books. I only wish I had discovered them when she wrote about the times that were a changing.

6)     I love all kinds of music; but, for me, no one tops The Beatles.

7)     Woody Allen’s “Midnight in Paris” is more than a movie to me. It’s also a destination I want to return to for a future vacation.

I’d like to share the love with the following blog/bloggers and recommend you pay them a visit:

1)     Main Street Musings – http://mainstreetmusingsblog.com/

2)     MJ “Michael” Monoghan – http://www.mjmonaghan.com/

3)     Kate Shewsday – http://kateshrewsday.com/

4)     Good Humored – http://goodhumored.wordpress.com/

5)     Mark Armstrong Illustration –  http://markarmstrongillustration.com/

6)     Madhu  – http://theurgetowander.com/

7)     Katecrimmins –   http://coffeekatblog.com/

8)     I Know I Made You Smile – http://carldagostino.wordpress.com/

9)     Before Morning Breaks – http://barbfroman.wordpress.com/

10)   Being Arindam – http://arindammohapatra.wordpress.com/

11)   Rumpydog – http://rumpydog.com/

12)   Hugmamma’s Mind, Body and Soul – http://hugmamma.com/

13)   Leanne Shirtliffe – Ironic Mom – http://ironicmom.com/

14)   She’s a Maineiac – http://shesamaineiac.com/

15)   Subhan Zein – http://subhanzein.wordpress.com/

Please check out these excellent blogs.

The Envelope, Please …

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By Judy Berman

… and the winner is … How often does any one get recognized for something they love doing?  I recently got a pleasant surprise when I opened my email. MJ “Michael” Monaghan wrote that he had nominated me for the Versatile Blogger award.

That’s quite an honor coming from someone who I admire. I’d like to thank him for his support, encouragement and comments on my writing. I’ve enjoyed MJ Monaghan’s stories because he has a wonderful sense of humor and terrific insights into life. His blog is at:  http://mjmonaghan.wordpress.com/

I began blogging in September 2011. Since that time, I’ve met – virtually – many creative, wonderful people who share my passion for writing and life. It was a delight to discover such a beautiful community.

If you are nominated, you’ve been awarded the Versatile Blogger award. From the VBA rules, here is what you do next:

  • Thank the person who gave you the award. That’s common courtesy.
  • Include a link to their blog. That’s also common courtersy – if you can figure out how to do it.
  • Next select 15 blogs/bloggers that you’ve recently discovered or follow regularly. (I would add, pick blogs or bloggers that are excellent.)
  • Nominate those 15 bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award – you might include a link to this site.
  • Finally, tell the person who nominated you 7 things about yourself.

I’d like to share the love with the following 15 blogs/bloggers and recommend you pay them a visit:

  1. Mostly Bright Ideas – http://mostlybrightideas.wordpress.com
  2. Ollin – Courage 2 Create – http://ollinmorales.wordpress.com/
  3. Everywhere Once – http://everywhereonce.com/
  4. Amiable Amiable – http://bighappynothing.wordpress.com/
  5. Love thy bike – http://lovethybike.wordpress.com
  6. hugmamma’s Mind, Body and Soul – http://hugmamma.com/
  7. Sarah M. Lawton – http://adventuremom.wordpress.com/
  8. Main Street Musings – http://mainstreetmusingsblog.com/
  9. Good Humored – http://goodhumored.wordpress.com/
  10. Deidra Alexander – http://deidraalexander.wordpress.com/
  11. Cdeminski’s Blog – http://cdeminski.wordpress.com/
  12. WatchingthePhotoReelsGoRoundandRound –      http://watchingthephotoreels.com/
  13. Chris Donner – http://chrisdonnermysterywriter.wordpress.com/
  14. arbohl – musings of a twenty something – http://arbohl.wordpress.com/
  15. Katecrimmins – http://coffeekatblog.wordpress.com/

There is one other I’d like to recognize. Five Reflections has requested that he be given no awards, but his poetry is exquisite. He can be found at http://fivereflections.wordpress.com/

Seven little-known facts about me. (I told Michael that under the Witness Protection Program covering me, I can’t reveal too much.)

  1. So now you know one thing about me – I have a warped sense of humor.
  2. John Steinbeck’s “Grapes of Wrath” made a lasting impression on me about righing wrongs and speaking for those with no voice.
  3. Love the irreverent cartoons of Bill Watterson’s “Calvin and Hobbes” and Matt Groening”s “The Simpsons.
  4. My favorite suspense film director is Alfred Hitchcock, especially “Rear Window” with James Stewart and Grace Kelly.
  5. When we visited Paris, we went to many of the places shown in the movie, “Charade,” starring Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn and Walter Matthau.
  6. My favorite musical group is The Beatles and I believe I have nearly all their albums and CDs. We visited their studio when we were in London.
  7. Last, but certainly not least, my best friend is my husband, Dave. We’ve been married 27 years. We have two daughters (both married), two grandchildren and two cats.

A Ghost Sighting in Minetto

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by Judy Berman

One crisp, clear November night when the moon was brilliant, a scenic ride along Old Route 57 turned into a terrifying experience for one traveler.

She came over what is Seneca Hill, and started down the long, long roadway which runs down the other side of the Oswego River, through the sleepy little village of Minetto, just south of Oswego.

It was so bright that night that the road was like a bright ribbon. The traveler was coming down, reaching almost the bottom of the hill. She thought she saw something outside the passenger’s side of the car.

She turned quickly. Looked. It was so pronounced that she had the feeling that something was there. But she didn’t see anything and thought, “Oh well. It must have been a shadow, a tree or something like that.”

The next November, the same thing happened.

This time, out of the corner of her eye, she distinctly saw something, turned and caught a glimpse of something … but, what?

The third year, she again made her way through Seneca Hill on that long ribbon of moonlight.

But, this time, there was no mistake.

There she was on the right-hand side of the road. A woman, who was in her late-30s, was running. She wore a nightgown, an old-fashioned nightgown. She had a little girl by the hand who appeared to be about 6 years old, also in an old-fashioned nightgown.

They were running. Running as hard as they could along the shoulder of the road.    The traveler started to stop and clearly saw the woman’s face.

She never saw such terror, never saw such terror on a human face before. The woman was frightened beyond belief.

So, she put the brake on as fast as she could and her car came to a squealing halt.

She jumped out. She could see them. They were still behind her, running up a hill.

She shouted after them, “Stop. Wait. What’s the matter?”

They didn’t turn and she thought, “Maybe they didn’t hear me.”

The traveler ran after them, but didn’t seem to gain any ground. When the pair reached the crest of the hill, they disappeared. She went to a house, the first one she saw. She knocked, but no one answered.

Shaken and confused, She raced back to her car and headed across a bridge to a state police substation

She told the desk sergeant he had to   come with her, something terrible had happened.

It seems like he moved in slow motion as he closed his book and put it down.

“Something has happened on the other side of the river,” she said, frantic and anxious.

“There was a woman and a little girl running … “

The state trooper broke in, “You say you saw a woman and a little girl?”

“Yes, yes. But we mustn’t talk about it. You must come with me. I know something terrible has happened. She looked so frightened and she was running up the top of the hill.”

“We’ve got to go over and see what happened.”

The state trooper calmly told her that he’d heard that story many times. He said what she saw people at the station called the Seneca Hill Ghost.

(An invitation: If you have a ghost story of your own that you’d like to share, please post a reply. No gory stuff, please.)

Thanks to Rosemary Nesbitt, who told me this tale, which is one of my favorite ghost stories. Nesbitt, a professor for more than 40 years at SUNY Oswego, Syracuse University and Wells College, also was a historian and author of 15 plays for children. She died in 2009. Nesbitt said others had told her they’ve had the same experience on moonlit rides through Seneca Hill between Nov. 5 and Nov. 10.

The Bully

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I was only 9 years old, but I knew that Otto was trouble with a capital T.

He’d thrown my schoolbooks into a snowbank and laughed while I bawled like crazy as I retrieved them. It wasn’t the first time. I was terrified. Imagine you’re the smallest kid in your class and some kid – the size of a rhino – is standing between you and a safe passage home.

Once you’re in his sights, that short walk home suddenly becomes filled with terror. Otto, who was in my 4th-grade class, was a bully and nearly as big as some of my teachers. Never knowing for sure when this goon would pop out of nowhere added to my stress. Most kids look forward to the end of the school day. Not me. I dreaded going to school for the same reason.

For months, Otto (not his real name) would verbally or physically threaten me. Fighting back was not an option – not if I wanted to live to tell about it.

One day, he stepped up the harassment. Otto was waiting for me as I took a shortcut on my way home from school. This time, he had a buddy. The bully took the rubber off his shoe and hit me in the face with it. Otto smirked in satisfaction as I cried. His friend just laughed.

My Mom only spoke about this once. She said they went to the bully’s parents’ home. With apologies to Marlon Brando in “The Godfather,” I imagine my Dad’s conversation went something like this: “I’m a superstitious man. And if some unlucky accident should befall my (daughter), if my (daughter) is struck by a bolt of lightning, I will blame some of the people here.”

After that, I was able to put Otto in my rearview mirror. He never physically tormented me again.

You might think: So, that’s the end of it. But it wasn’t.

Life is rarely tied up neatly like it is in the movies and in books. In Carl Hiaasen’s novel, “Hoot,” you might get a vicarious thrill when Roy Eberhardt gives his tormentor, Dana Matherson, his comeuppance and Matherson is sniveling in jail. Or, you dread every encounter J. K. Rowling’s, Harry Potter, has with Dudley Dursley and Draco Malfoy, who later make peace toward the end of the series. The worst outcome is when the conflict turns deadly, as it did in S. E. Hinton’s “The Outsiders,” when Johnny killed the Soc, Bob, to save Ponyboy’s life.

I can’t recall even talking to Otto for the next four years that we went to school together. It’s like we were strangers passing each other in the revolving door of life. It’s been decades since I’ve been in fourth grade. Yet there’s hardly a week that goes by that I don’t think of Otto and wonder who he’s harassing now.

If you know of someone who is bullying or being bullied, please speak up. Stop the bully from doing more harm.

I was lucky. My parents stepped in, and peace was restored.

Many others long for the same intervention and a safe place they can turn to when they’re feeling threatened.

Scamming the Mob

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by Judy Berman

(as told to me by my Dad, Joseph H. Fiet III)

The sounds of a rowdy party: laughter, glasses clinking … just what was the secret behind the “Green Door?” Many think that song is a reference to speak-easies, places that sold alcohol illegally. Such spots became popular after the 18th Amendment took effect in 1920 making it illegal to make, sell or consume alcohol.

The “noble” experiment was deemed a failure and repealed in 1933. In a three-part series on PBS, Ken Burns’ “Prohibition” showed that, much like drugs, alcohol was brought in by plane, boat and over the border by cars. It also was illegally made and sold in the United States. Prohibition was intended to reduce crime, but it actually did the opposite. The “unintended consequences” of Prohibition was demand for the product increased, and crime – which became more organized – filled the void.

But there’s another story about what happened once alcohol was again legalized. My Dad said this left the Mafia with a huge problem.

“They had a lot of money from Prohibition and they had nowhere to put it. So someone in Philadelphia suggested that they open a supermarket,” Dad said. He believed he worked in a mob-run store when he was a teen still in high school.

About six months after they opened, one of the managers asked his bosses when they did inventory.

New concept. The Mafia was not in the habit of making public what they did and had no idea what an inventory was. They told the manager to do whatever it was, and he discovered that some employees were robbing the store blind.

“One day during a lunch hour, when most people are home eating their lunch, they noticed that the few remaining customers were lined up at one particular register: Mason’s,” Dad said. (To protect the guilty, I’ve changed the cashier’s name.)

The store’s managers tried to get people to go to the other lines. They refused. That’s how they determined Mason was their prime suspect. But how to prove it?

Mason had devised a scheme with his neighbors in South Philly. For every $5 order – remember this was during the Great Depression in the 1930s – Mason told them he would charge them only $4.

Mason would ring up $3 on the cash register. He’d pocket one dollar of the $4 he charged the customer. The customer saved a buck. This scheme netted Mason about $100 a week on top of his weekly salary of $16 or $17. He was ecstatic. The customers were happy. The Mob was not pleased.

After the orders were bagged, they told customers they wanted to check it. The customers would not allow them to do this, knowing store managers would learn about the deep discounts they were getting. Finally, they talked one customer into cooperating.

“The order turned up short. They brought Mason up to the office and told him he was going to be arrested for theft,” Dad said.

Mason told them: “Not so. The only thing you’ve managed to do was catch me in a mistake. One mistake.”

They fired him for inefficiency. He was quickly hired by a competitor as a store manager. So, in Mason’s case, crime did pay.

Dad said this was only one of many thefts at the store. “It eventually went bankrupt because of pilferage.” A lesson learned for the Mob, I’m sure.

(Photo caption: A 1930s grocery store)

The Gift of Time

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By Judy Berman

During our visit with Dad in June, a tune kept running thru my head. I couldn’t quite make out the words or recall all the music.

Slowly, it came to me. The song was “The Windmills of Your Mind.” A phrase that stuck with me was: “Pictures hanging in the hallway and the fragment of this song, Half-remembered names and faces, but to whom do they belong?”

The song reminds me that time was slipping away. For several years, my husband and I have flown to Vegas to celebrate Father’s Day at Joe’s Crab Shack with my Dad (Joseph H. Fiet III) and my brother, Hank. Dad’s 91, and I’m not sure how many more Father’s Days we’ll have together. His health hasn’t been good. Dad’s been in and out of the hospital for several months.

But he looks forward to this outing.

Inside this laid-back restaurant, we bypass the T-shirts that state “Bite me” or look like leftovers from a Jerry Garcia paintball war and head to our table. We’re ready to dive into their shrimp. The wait-staff is rocking out to a tune that blares thru the speakers. Their dancing and singing is all part of the atmosphere.

Minutes later, our table is overflowing with popcorn shrimp, coconut shrimp, shrimp scampi and Louisiana-style bayou shrimp.

Conversation flows as smoothly as the drinks. Dad doesn’t finish his beer, but he obviously had a great time and so did we.

Shortly after we return to Florida, Dad has a minor stroke and goes back to the hospital.

Each time Hank calls, I hesitate before I answer. I suspect the news will not be good. Some days, it is. Others, not.

On July 6th, the news we’d been dreading finally comes. Hank was with Dad at the hospital shortly before Dad died. It seemed as if Dad rallied for our visit and, again, for Hank to be with him.

Dad’s gift to us: precious time. There is never enough time when it comes to those you want to be with. Still, I am grateful for what we were able to share.

I told my eldest daughter, Danielle, that, when Hank called, a repairman was in the garage working on our hot-water heater. She said the repairman probably wondered why I was crying.

“Yeah,” I joked, “I was really attached to our old water heater.”

Dad would have loved that.

Music link: “The Windmills of Your Mind,” from “The Thomas Crown Affair” (1968):

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dAGGTVft5Lk&feature=player_embedded

Photo caption: Dad (Joseph H. Fiet III), Hank, Judy and Dave during one of our annual visits at Joe’s Crab Shack in Las Vegas

A Tale of Greed, Betrayal and Gold

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By Judy Berman

(as told to me by my Dad, Joseph H. Fiet III)

The desert doesn’t want to give up its secrets – or its treasures. The quest for it often ends in betrayal and, sometimes, madness.

Dad’s internal compass was all we had to go on many times when we rode thru the desert in Nevada and California. At one spot, along the Colorado River, there were signs – footprints and a few empty bottles – to indicate others had traveled this way before. In other areas, we might “turn right at the third cactus” on a dirt path. It was on these ride-alongs and at his kitchen table that we heard the stories behind these remote locations and those who searched for gold and silver.

In the 1960s, a neighbor in Boulder City learned that Dad was looking at old mines. Mojave (not his real name) asked Dad to go with him to a site where he’d looked for a mine once before. On the drive down Interstate 15 just over the California border, Mojave said a former neighbor asked if he knew how to read maps. When he said yes, the man pulled out a yellowed, weathered map, and Mojave examined it.

At the time the map was made, I-15 didn’t exist. There was only a two-lane road which is a continuation of Las Vegas Boulevard. Mojave, the neighbor, and their families, packed a lunch and set out on that road. When they got to a telephone line, they followed it near the top. Then, they got out and decided to have their picnic.

After the picnic, they walked away from the highway. At a certain point, the neighbor said: “Well, I’ve seen enough. Let’s go home.”

Mojave thought that was odd. Odder still was, the next day, the neighbor disappeared. A few days later, a moving van hauled away the family’s belongings. Mojave never heard from him again.

So, Dad and Mojave took the same trail, returning to the same spot where the man decided to go home. It was getting late. There didn’t appear to be anything worth pursuing, and they went home.

A few weeks later, Dad went back to the same spot by himself and started walking into the mountains.

“The deeper I walked, the more I could see there was a trail that had been made by a wagon or a car,” Dad said.

Finally, at the top of the mountain, Dad sees a huge hole in the wall about 25 feet up. As he didn’t have any way to get up there, he returned home. Then he told Mojave: “I think I’ve found the mine that you were not supposed to find.”

Back they went. This time, there were three cars at the base of the entrance. Somebody was in the mine now.

“We couldn’t get to talk to anybody. People are very secretive about mines,” Dad said.

Mojave concluded that when the man discovered where the mine would go, that’s when he decided they should pack up and leave for home. Then, the next morning, the man filed a claim on the mine. The people who were parked at the base were no doubt working the mine for him.

“It almost had to be a gold mine. There are other mines around it that were getting gold,” Dad said.

So they left with no way to find out exactly what was happening inside the mine.

“But, the mystery was solved,” Dad said, “on why the man ran away and never again talked to Mojave.”

Photo of the Joshua tree in the Nevada desert was taken by: Chris Christensen, “Amateur Traveler”

Earth Rider, Elvis and Robot Dancer in Vegas

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By Judy Berman

It’s 7:30 a.m. We’re on our way to breakfast and we see Elvis walking along The Strip.

Huge pompadour. Tight white pantsuit with rhinestones, and he looks like 5 miles of bad road. No one seems surprised to see him. That’s to be understood. Elvis, superheroes, robot dancers and all kinds of characters are the real draw in Vegas.

Take a recent taxi ride Dave and I were in. Cabbies can give the real lowdown to tourists on the economy, the hot spots and the best places to eat. They also can be entertaining.

On one ride, we listened in with the driver to the chatter over the two-way on how to handle a Visa credit card from Austria.

Quite a few cabbies got on the two-way radio to offer their advice. One said he’d used his Visa in Mexico City without any problems.

Our cabbie jumped on and said, “Yeah. But that was for bail money.”

Laughter from his passengers in the back seat.

I’ll admit I’m a people-watcher. I chat with strangers on the bus, in casino restaurants, on the elevator and on the street. Now, at night, on our bus along The Strip, a passenger made the most of his captive audience to complain about how the pricier casinos screen who they’ll allow to play.

“They asked what I did for a living,” the thin, elderly man said to me and others close by. “I told them I’m an Earth Rider.”

And, I thought, aren’t we all.

We get off outside Bellagio’s and stop to watch a street performer dance robot-like moves. It seems like there’s an Elvis, Darth Vader, guitar- strummer or dancer on every street corner. This irritates some. Others, such as me on this night, find this performer entertaining. Some girl jumped in to dance next to him. She was showing off for her friends, but the dancer handled her intrusion very graciously.

When he finished his dance, I put a dollar in his tip jar. He moved quickly, still dancing robotically, put his hand on my left shoulder and gave me a wide smile. I bowed my head slightly and beamed back before heading into the casino.

That’s something we all need – to know that we exist and are appreciated. I walked away smiling as I felt I had received more than I gave.

Photo of Bellagio Hotel’s Water Show on the Vegas Strip. To see more photos of Vegas, go to the following web site:

 http://www.pachd.com/