Entry for October 21, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman

The new Honda Fit is a swell new car. It has four seats and TEN cup holders ! For 15,000 dollars you too can get 35 mpg. Has anyone seen the “Smart Car” yet? It draws more stares, oohhs and ahhhs then the Hummer ever got. 50 mpg but just don’t get hit by a Hummer…..oh but maybe you will survive because you are surrounded by SIX airbags….(and ten cup holders)

Last week, financial giant USB, which is struggling to stay above water and expected to succeed, limited senior executives to $750,000 per year until losses end. New York Times responded with this: “That is still an extraordinary amount of money, but given the costs built into bankers’ lives — mortgages, private school and so on — the money can quickly run out.” Wait, bankers have trouble paying their mortgages on $750,000 per year? Prices are high in Manhattan, but it’s ridiculous for the Times to express concern for executives forced to get by on $750,000 a year. DON’T FORGET, it is now OUR tax dollars that are helping this lifestyle for the bank CEO’s. And where is it written that bankers’ children must attend private schools? Congress refuses to enact a living minimum wage of $10 a hour, but couldn’t wait SAVE the Wall Street salaries !!!!!!!

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Gallus gallus……Entry for October 20, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman

Chickens grow much more rapidly than they once did and some consumers have concluded that this rapid growth is due to the use of hormones in these animals. Some consumers believe that the increasingly earlier onset of puberty in humans is the result of the liberal use of such hormones. However, hormone use in poultry production is illegal in the United States.

I had a friend from Puerto Rico who told me that you haven’t had a chicken meal unless it was prepared that day and didn’t come from a mass-produced chicken farm.
Chicken eggs vary in color due to the hen.
Chickens are generally low-maintenance. The major challenge is protecting the birds from predators such as dogs, raccoons and foxes.
Before 1960 in the USA, most chickens and eggs were produced on home farms. Today it is an industry. Like building cars.

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the diVOrce…..Entry for October 17, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman

this was my greatest heartache
the two that picked up their luggage stumbled
into life and got married and then never unpacked
I’ve occupied this dead forest dreaming
thinking ofyour wet mildew your soft tissue
we coulda been somebody We shoulda quit before we started
wheres the
door The mind drenched with concern
in the mirror getting older All of a sudden
I’m feeling inspired Filled up a spiral notebook
with ocean poems&some tastless Black sketches
of houses with happy suns happy sons
picket fences Christmas lights are a struggle
now and the lawn is dying and covered with weeds
neighbors wondering where you went Waking up
in the pysch ward third floor no windows no clocks
no job no hope but alive the sky partially cleared
and happy days are sad Standing in line for lawyers
children still smile and sleep in cocoons Safe
and warm hanging from limbs of devotion I’m crossing
the river now Wading knee deep in green water Brown
mud An eagle flys past the shoreline I am growing weak
weaker My boots are stuck in the mud and you are all so
heavy

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The People in Front of me today……Entry for October 16, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman

My morning coffee is the most important of the day. I am a dragon without it. I am waiting for the guy in front of me to “fix” his coffee. Where I go, there is only room for one person. All I put in my coffee is half and half. I don’t even stir it. I figure it stirs itself by the time I get to the car or walk out the door,
The man in front of me is taking too long.
Mix. Stir. Taste. Oh, a little more sugar. Mix. Stir. Mix. Taste.
The man in front of me has decided that his coffee is a fucking science project.
Oh, a tad more milk.
Mix. Stir. Taste.
I am going to kill this caffein scientist very fucking soon.
Then, at the counter, he is there again. Talking. And talking. I know everything he did in the past two days. The store owner seems not to give a shit. Neither do I. Talking, talking talking. Shut the fuck up.
Now the lady is next. She has decided to pay with change. Quarters, dimes but mostly pennies. She wants to talk too. Her dog is very sick. He has something wrong with his stomach and they might have to operate. She is still paying and counting change. I hope my dog doesn’t die, she says. I hope he drops dead while she is counting pennies.
LATER that night. I am in line waiting for my bus to come home.
The woman in front of me has a very large ass. No, I mean it is big. REALLY fucking big. I have never seen anything like it. It is so round, almost like a mountain cliff….or a planet maybe. I am imagining myself very small and climbing that planet. It is very difficult and I hope I don’t fall off. Holy cow this is a big fucking ass.
Now the lady, sitting in the chair across from the bus line has seen me staring at this woman’s ass. Shit. That sucks. But fuck you lady. I’m not staring at it sexually. I am wondering how she washes it when she takes a shower.
NOW I am on the bus. The man in front of me is Jamaican. He is on the cell phone. He is telling his whole day to the person on the other end of the phone. He speaks very loud. I like his accent. But I hate his laugh. He laughs like Ernie from Bert and Ernie on Sesame Street. He laughs alot.

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Cows, panics and brother Gregory…..Entry for October 15, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman

What I have found out about cows, I am not shocked. They require a lot of care. They don’t just hang around and cut the pasture lawn.

If you take good care of your cows, they will produce dairy products, meat and calves for years !! I think I would like a Jersey cow, not because she comes from New Jersey but because she eats less.

Politicians and myself are competing to see who can act most panicked and use the most exaggerated claims about economic crisis — yet the fundamentals of the U.S. economy are, in fact, strong. Productivity is high; innovation is high; the workforce is strong and well-educated; unemployment is, but nothing compared to the recent past, there are no shortages of resources, energy or goods.

Why has a credit market problem expanded into a panic? One reason is the media and political systems are now programmed for panic mode. Everything’s a crisis! Crises, after all, keep people’s eyes glued to cable news shows, so the media have an interest in screaming crises. Crises make Washington seem more important.

My last blog post featured a famous photograph of the depression. I panicked! Then on Monday night my football team totally self-destructed and I PANICKED !!

I may have forgotten, but games like the one on Monday night do happen to teams in the NFL, even the good ones. Sometimes, even a less talented team can play real well, and a more talented team can play poorly and a blowout happens. Was it ugly? Yes. Was it painful to watch? Yes. The season will go on, the team will move forward, and the Giants are still in first place in the NFC East.

This weekend was a perfect example of how unpredictable the NFL can be. If I walked into a Vegas casino last week and bet the Rams to beat the Skins, Cards to beat the Cowboys and Browns to beat the Giants outright with no spread, I would have gotten astronomical odds. Yet, it happened. Losses happen. The Giants weren’t going to go undefeated. They weren’t going to go undefeated on the road again. Eventually the odds catch up with every NFL team. That’s what the NFL is. There’s no reason to panic.

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Love Each Other…Love Yourself…Entry for October 1, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman


When Barb and I painted her room a couple months ago, she redecorated and put this over her bed. I said, Beautiful Barb, flea market? Thrift shop? Pier One Imports? No, she made it from scratch. I always say to myself that if I had a photo of everything that our sister has created from hand, it would fill up the whole family web site. On top of that, many of the very old great group photos of the family were orchestrated by Barb. One of my favorite pieces of work was the quilt that she made for her daughter Belindas 30th birthday. There was a square symbolically representing a different part of of her life.


When I posted the photo of aunt Carol helping Brenda fix her dress in Photos That Make You Think (Sept 08) I was informed that Barb had indeed sewn all the dresses that her four sisters wore to her wedding.

I thought that to be pretty amazing. Does anybody remember when Mom had the Westfield Sewing Center and we had an eloborate Fashion Show one Saturday evening at the store? What a huge success that was! It was truly moms magical moment as reluctant business owner. Barb had allot to do with the dresses that went down the makeshift fashion aisle. In this months Photos you can see Barb hanging around with her buds. You don’t wanna mess with that crew.
A correction

This woman was NOT our Grandmother as I had listed. It was one of our Grandmas FIVE sisters and I am not sure which one.

Also if you remember another old family friend: Gary Zazworski passed away last month from throat cancer. 43.

Migrant Worker California 1930 with her 7 kids.
Coffee is my drug of choice and most times in New York I end up at Borders Book store above Penn Station. Everybody has their laptops open in the Cafe. It’s been the end of the World financially here in USA. The buzz right now The Senate has begun voting on $700 billion rescue package for Wall Street aimed a preventing a credit crisis from plunging the nation into a recession. I think this is allot of money. I’m glad we have it in our back pocket for this emergency.
God help us. And I think he will. A recession .maybe a depression .and I don’t think there are many alive who remember the first real tragic depression of 1929. After the panic of 1929, and during the first 10 months of 1930, 744 US banks failed. (In all, 9,000 banks failed during the 1930s). By 1933, depositors had lost $140 billion in deposits.
When I was a kid I remember Moms dad telling me how GOOD the depression was, because people had to help each other. They had to get off their asses to survive. Sounds like something this country needs right now.
Maybe we can rediscover the TRUE meaning of LOVE ONE ANOTHER. It seems that through the toughest times we pull together and get through it. New York City changed after 9/11 seven years ago. People actually had manners and we all helped each other. It didnt take long to forget though. History should be a lesson to us all, thats why we teach it to our children.

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Brenda

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman

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Soak up a Florida sunset………….Entry for September 16, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman

Click here for a south Florida sunset !

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Without a Net………..Entry for September 3, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman


It was thirty years ago today. I went to my first Dead concert at almost brand new Giants stadium. It was a very long strange trip for sure. It went on for a long time with my brothers. Traveling to allot of different places. Meeting so many people. The art was always so fresh and it covered the parking lots, shirts, faces and stage. Camping, tripping, getting busted, fights, getting lost, getting high….I always liked the small theaters, Stanley in Pittsburg, the Capital in Jersey and I was blesssed to see them at Radio City Music Hall in NYC. After they became a money making machine, Brent the keyboard player overdosed, they played in big stadiums to crowds that half-cared about the vibes and music. Americas greatest secret vacation had become a “cool trend” Will the rain stop in Florida? Everytime I talk to Grant the amount increases ten fold. In our last phone conversation it was 75 inches of rain that has fallen on Florida. Florida Hartmans-get in your boat and float up here and have some tomato sandwiches with me. I picked fifty on my birthday. And we only have 5 plants.

Dad if you ONLY KNEW. The will of God took you away and I wonder what y’all are doing up there. Brenda, Beverly and Carol probably laughing their asses off, telling stories. Dad you were a fucking idiot. The more I read your endless pages of bullshit in your journals. Never once did you mention any of your children by name. Your life was money. Numbers, the Sewing Center and saving your soul. Nobody remembers you. You never gave us the chance because business came first. Some of us remember getting the shit kicked out of us, I gotta give you that much. Mysterious dark figure. In the Summer I remember the smell of gasoline, fresh-cut grass and you….aqua-velva and cigars.

THE END of Summer. Always so quick. In this red tomato sky, my boys are huge. Taller than me and sometimes smarter than me. Walking on the boardwalk, trying to find that “last hurray” the final salute to a season lost. Another lost sibling. If I am just a ballon head in the photos—you are all gathered around her funeral….holding hands in a dream. Heads bowed down in prayer. But the surviving eight peeking up. Looking around at each other. Wondering who will be next. How many balloons will we need. I can still put my feet in the sand. The kids are going to school. Football season. Catch maybe one more huge wave from the churning sea. The seemingly endless pounding waves (bigger because of the hurricanes down yonder.) I miss my boys being little. I miss Brenda and the red tomato skys of Summer.

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From Barbara…….Entry for August 6, 2008

Posted on May 10, 2009 by George C. Hartman

This was in the newspaper: The family went on vacation to the Grand Canyon. In a quick second, when they turned around, their 3 year old son was gone. Did the father reach for him? Or did the mother scream as she saw for just a split second that it was going to happen and she couldn’t do anything about it?
Powerlessness.
My baby sister, I turned around and you were gone.
Like a dream that you wish wake up and find that it wasn’t true. Could I have reached for you? If you heard me scream would you have turned around? Was there a way to save you?

They stood and looked at her laying there on the cluttered floor. There was no room on the couch. What did they see, a drug addict dying? A mother who left her children for a needed fix? A desperate woman who would do anything to get what her body craved for?

What did God the Father see? A child that was emotionally abandoned. A precious soul that in her own way sought Him, by looking up to people that sought Him. And not knowing how to grasp this help—this power—this relationship—-with God. God the Father watched as His Son ministered to her like never before offering her what her heart longed for. He battled the demons and darkness of her soul so long ago but only now realized by her.

He saw the multitudes of Angels that would have made her faint from fear if seen by the human eye, surround her, rejoice with her as she was finally released to her greater good.

The mystery of Gods love and divine mercy is uncomprehensible, but I sure am glad that I believe in it.—-Barbara

Gary has posted some videos on his YouTube page:

Kmart remembers

Over the Rainbow 7-26-08

They Love Each Other

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