What happened to childhood?

It's cloudy out this morning. I wish it would rain. We need rain. But, in lieu of that, I guess we'll have to water the garden if we expect to harvest anything out of it.

Sometimes I sit on my front porch and read. Lately, when I do this, it's usually in the afternoon when the kids are coming home from school. It's interesting, and sometimes sad, to watch the older ones as they make their way home. There's a young man I have seen who has a head of fuzzy black hair, and is overweight. I have yet to see his face. When he walks, his shoulders sag, and he more or less drags the bags he's carrying, even though they do not touch the ground. He doesn't walk as much as shuffles.

I feel sad watching him. He comes across as being very down, perhaps on himself, or the world, or life in general.

For the older children, pre-teens, young teens, what must their lives be like? Many come from broken homes, and when they return from school, there is no one there to greet them. I remember when my wife had to go to work, not because she felt the need to "find herself", or excel in any type of career other than being mother and wife, but because we flat out needed the money in order to pay the bills and eat. Unfortunately, that is the way it is today for most people.

We had three sons in school at the time. The oldest came home first, and had his mother's attention for a full hour before the others came home. When they did, they received their share of attention as the oldest was off doing other things. When my wife started to work, every one of the boys resented it. They lost their time with her, and they did not appreciate it.

I think of that when I see this young man, and I wonder if there is anyone to greet him when he opens the door, or is the house empty? Are there two parents there instead of one, or none, during the evening? Do his parents even care what he thinks or feels, or is he just a mouth to feed and someone to keep them from doing what they want to do?

Our next door neighbor used to teach driving in a local high school. The young adults taking his class were usually from well to do homes. He was shocked at the way they talked about their homes and parents. He said they talked like he was not there. One young lady told the others in the car that when her parents wanted to have a party they would give her $400 and tell her to go stay in a motel someplace...

Teachers, the government, media people, all talk about the drug problems in this country, and scratch their heads. All they need do is look around. Day after day after day our children and grandchildren are blasted on TV, in the movies, in the newspapers, on their cell phones or iPads or whatever, with nothing but what a horrible future lies waiting from them: no jobs, no money for college, imminent terrorist attacks killing hundreds of thousands, global warming killing all unless, reality shows hyping a stupid way of life as if it were normal... With all this coming at them, why wouldn't they want to forget? Get high? Opt out of life?

When I grew up, we had no TV. We had the bomb, and we knew it was there, but, we did not hear about it 24/7 the way youngsters now do. What happened to kids being kids? iPhones, iPads, Facebook, My space, video games, no parental controls... I see young girls, 11, 12, 13, in malls dressed like hookers... Why? There's no mysteries left for young people to discover as they grown up. It's all out there, thrown in their faces from the day they are first able to see. We, the supposedly responsible adults, have robbed our children of their ability to be children.

And the young man who walks by my door every school day? Who knows what will become of him... It's too bad we have "advanced" to the point of making life, and the future, not worth the effort for so many.

Dinner and other things in Sienna, Italy

They say that an army runs on its stomach. Well, we're not an army, but I think we also run on our stomachs.

We spent a week in Sienna, Italy in May of 2006. The weather was perfect! Around 80 degrees every single day and clear blue skies as well.

We stayed in the Albergo Bernini. Albergo in Italian means hotel. It was owned by an Italian family, the son having graduated from the University of San Francisco. We learned before we went that he collected patches of different police departments from around the world. So, in order to assist him in this, we took him patches from the Hanover Sheriff's Office. He was delighted to receive them and placed them on display with the rest of his small collection.

There were several interesting and funny things that happened to us while we stayed there. One happened on an afternoon when we decided to have dinner on the terrace of the hotel. We purchased our food, and then proceeded to go into a wine shop to purchase a bottle of wine. The middle-aged woman who was working there spoke no English. In many small towns in Italy, few people speak English, but, with a minimum of effort, one can make themselves understood.

We selected a bottle of wine, and when she asked if we wanted to purchase it, I had a mental lapse and responded with the French term for yes, namely "Oui". Definitely a no-no! She immediately began "speaking with her hands"....

"Oui? Oui è francese! È sì! SI!"

"Scusi! Scusi!" I replied, cringing under the onslaught of good natured ribbing of my faux pau...

Anyway, we purchased the wine, returned to the hotel, and ate on the terrace as we looked out on the view surrounding us.

The second incident occurred over the period of a day and a night and the following morning.

I asked the owner of the hotel to recommend a restaurant where we could experience a really good meal. He suggested a place called "Da Divo".

"Would you like me to make reservations for you this evening?"

"No, thanks. I think we'll just walk over there and see if they have a vacant table."

We walked around until we found the restaurant. It did not open until 7pm, or so the sign indicated. It was then about 10 minutes until seven. so we decided to just wait. Two other couples joined us in the wait. We waited until seven. No lights, no door opened. We waited until five after seven, ten after seven. Still, no lights, no open door.

It was then a shutter opened across the street. Now, picure this... the street is about 8 feet wide, so there was not a great distance from where we waited to the open shutter.

A young man leaned out and very nicely informed us that the restaurant was closed that day.

The next morning, the owner of the hotel asked us on the way out...

"How was the restaurant?"

"It was closed yesterday."

There went the hands again, speaking in Italian while the voice spoke in English...

"See? See? I wanted to make reservations, but Nooooo... youuuu had to walk over there to see if it was open!"

"Okay... Okay... you were right! I should have had you make reservations."

"Would you like me to make them for tonight?"

"Yes, I would appreciate it."

As you can see, the restaurant is really interesting. It had three levels. The main floor, seen to the right, the little cave like alcove you see to the left, and then there was a wine cellar like area down one more flight. We ate on the second level.

The waiter brought some champaign and a small appetizer to have while we looked over the menu. We both ordered fish, and it was fantastic! Then, they brought some little candies to eat while looking over the desert menu, and a small glass of a desert wine. Very potent!

Anyway, the service was fantastic! The food was fantastic! The ambiance was amazing!

The next morning I was able to tell the owner he was correct, the place was amazing, and the reservations were greatly appreciated! And I did it without waving my hands! But, it wasn't easy to be so restrained...

While walking around Sienna, we found the place where, in 2000, we shared lunch with two friends we met in Italy, one from California (now living in Pittsburgh), and the other from Australia.

We each had a bowl of Ribollita, an Italian soup that is REALLY tasty!

The picture to the right is one I took during a day trip to San Gimignano, the city of Towers. At one time there were over 100 towers within the walls of the city. Unfortunately, many of them are gone now. This was the city where the movie "Tea With Mussolini" was filmed. These are the types of places we look for to eat at when we travel.

While in Sienna, one afternoon, we sat in the plaza and had some bruschetta and a glass of bianco vino (white wine). Very nice. Very relaxing... Oh, to go back there....

A day in Honfleur, France

Honfleur is a little village located in Normandy. It is over 900 years old. During World War II, the mayor sent the allies a letter stating that there were no Germans in the village, and to please not bomb it. They didn't. So, the pictures you see are of the village that remains today as it was when it was built.

This is the Customs House. Every ship that came into Honfleur had to stop at the Customs House and be inspected before it was allowed to enter the marina.

The man in the picture was our taxi driver. I wrote his name in one of my journals, but now I can't find the journal I wrote it in. Anyway, when we arrived in Le Havre we discovered that there were only two buses to Honfleur, and the last one of the day had already left. The woman in the train station told us the only way we could get to Honfleur would be by taxi. Honfleur was not accessible via train, which is why we came to Le Havre.

My wife had done a painting of Honfleur several years back from a picture she found in a magazine. We had never been there, and we wanted to go. We asked how much the taxi would cost and found out it was around $50, one way. We decided that we may never return to this part of France, so we said the heck with it, we're going!

We went outside to the taxi stand and hopped into the next one in line. Our driver was very friendly and we talked as we rode. He told us he was learning to speak German the same way he learned to speak English, from talking to his passengers. I guess the Germans had once again begun traveling into the parts of western Europe they had once occupied. Prior to that time it was decided they were afraid of the reception they would receive, as well they should be. Unfortunately, even though they are not all arrogant, a lot of them tend to forget they lost the war, and are not very considerate of others.

But, back to the taxi ride. Our driver told us that Honfleur had the best seafood he had ever eaten, and saying that in France is saying a lot! He said when he went home at night and his wife said she wanted to go out to eat they would soon be on their way to Honfleur.

After we had wandered around, visited the Musée Eugène Boudin on the‎ Rue de l'Homme de Bois we found the restaurant you see to your right. We were the only English speaking customers. The rest of the customers were very friendly, and I'm not sure if they thought we were French, or they were saying things knowing we did not understand them. But, in either case, we had a fantastic seafood lunch and a great bottle of wine to go with it!

Before we left the taxi, our driver wanted to know if we had a way back to Le Havre. When he found out we didn't, he wanted to know what time we would be coming back. We told him probably around four in the afternoon, as we still had to catch the train back to Rouen where we were staying. He asked if we would like him to return and pick us up, but if so, could we make it around three-thirty. We thought that was very nice of him, and accepted his offer.

We arrived at the pick up point a few minutes early and were speculating on why three-thirty when we saw him coming over the bridge.

On the way back to Le Havre, we learned that he had to be back by a certain time as he went to a school for the handicapped and took 6 children home each school day on his way home from work.

We really, really, enjoyed our day, lunch, and the friendliness of the taxi driver. It was by far one of the best days of our trip, and was worth the taxi fare, going and coming!