My Dad, Howard Sheldon Rosen, turns 80 today, April 1, 2013. He grew to be a wonderful father in every way. The roots were always firm, it took the tree a bit to grow through wind and draught, through fear and time, we were both adults when the boughs flowered and the bloom has never faded.

A VIDEO about my Dad... and my learning to be a better Dad from a wonderful teacher.

And a poem...

by James Galvin, because no one says it better... Because I want to tell a friend.

Today is Brad Wolk's birthday. March 24.
We were best friends from 4th to 6th grade, maybe through 7th, but I don't think we made it through 8th.
Well, maybe not even through 7th.
We lived around the corner from each other, Brad on Litchfield, me on Ives.
We probably rode bikes to school each day.
We went to Hebrew School together. I followed Brad into Boy Scouts.
He was cool and I was a nerd. I didn't know that, though, till later. He was smart and great at sports. I was hardly great at sports. He did, on my very first day at Northeast Elementary School in 4th grade, pick me first to be on his kickball team. He was a captain.
It was the last time I wasn't picked last... day after day on the school playground.
But that didn't stop Brad from being my friend.
Sometime, I think in 7th grade, maybe in 8th, we were walking home from downtown Rutland. Up West Street or some street toward Main Street from Merchant's Row. At a corner, at a blue mail box, two kids came after Brad. Intimidating him. Threatening to fight.
I watched. I couldn't move. Or didn't. I don't know why, I've never been able to figure out why.
Maybe some punches were thrown. Maybe not. The two kids went away. Brad asked me why I didn't help him.
I still don't know why.
We drifted apart. He became captain of the basket ball team, was popular and smart and went on to Williams College, where I think he was also captain of the basketball team.
He became a doctor.
His dad, Doctor Wolk, was a doctor. His oldest brother Tommy became a doctor. Scoopy, a dude, became a College President I guess.
Life.
Birthdays.
Happy 57th Birthday, Doctor Brad Wolk.
M

with one photographer:

and another:

and...

and then it's a year...

Butch Morris died today, January 29, 2013
Butch was big, Butch was hard, he was art and beauty and sadness and pain. He was style and laughter and elegance. Softness and magic. He was music and more music and more. He was food and wine and smoke and sensuality, lectures and questions. Dreams and realities. I made a note to call him today, in blue pen in a piece of paper I folded into my pocket, and didn't.

I've been doing some traveling with Ripton lately...

He''s been busy... and for me,,,
a dad is a dad, emotion is emotion is emotion, love is love...

So we when I had to travel, I made sure he came. We went to Jerusalem...

We visited with Rabbi Charlie Buckholtz, who used to be in our reading group in New York but moved away some years ago...

And we were lucky to spend a little time with our new friend, Moses Michael Levi,

And then a bit later we were lucky to be in Beijing on a particularly sunny day...

It was so bright that it was hard to get Ripton clearly and at the same time capture the history around...

But I think we managed, especially considering the nuance of grandeur...

We were lucky that the day at MuTienYu was also clear...

Ripton seemed to be his normally expressive self...

And I'm grateful for that, and far more.

When I studied anthro at Penn, we were taught about cultural relativism...

and so many meat eaters are fine eating Christmas ham or bacon at Sunday brunch...

and is the judgment that Old Major is perhaps less acute than Lassie, or cares less for his children then her, or sees the colors through more muted eyes, or senses the sublime less sublimely...

But Amundsen was evil and Scott ate his ponies.

This is my morning friend Thinh...

Doing what he beautifully does. Flowers and Christmas trees and apples...

and his coffee is yes beautiful and delicious and part of what I look forward to...

Turned 22 !!

A very magical age, a magical year, my favorite teacher Hugh's Short's special number. So HAPPY BIRTHDAY RIPTON ! Love, Dad

I miss Ripton and Morgan, I miss Carlos and Kindu and William and Juan and Phil. I miss you being young, I'm proud of you growing older, I'll always remember the baseball...

Happy 4th of July.

and yes, I know I've pasted this 4th of July Ray Charles Sandlot scene before, but it is the best. So,,, ,Happy 4th of July.

Carlos earned this...

Every moment of it.
And to Mr. Peter Borer.... you are a Prince. Thank you.

And to Dr. Tavarez... thank you. You must be special. For this and for what is coming.