Hall of Fame

Last night was the second New Jersey Hall of Fame induction ceremony at NJPAC. It was great “rubbing shoulders” with some of the most famous people of the state. (I was there as the announcer of the event, also known, I am told,  in stage parlance as V.O.G. or  “Voice of God”, but I’ll save that for another blog.)

The event got me thinking about the common thread of successful, famous people. What do they all have in common?  It was interesting seeing them all interact back stage.

What does Senator Bill Bradley have in common with say Jon Bon Jovi?  What does Gov. Jon Corzine (who was a presenter and was hanging out back stage too) have in common with Paul Robeson?

Cyber POTUS

It was an amazing piece of of cyber-theatre.  The President of the United States “streaming” on my computer. He was answering questions from thousands of Americans who Emailed the White House with their queries.

A Cyber-Town-Hall meeting.

Sort of reminded me of Franklin D. Roosevelt’s “fireside chats” on radio that helped America through some pretty tough times.

Mr. Obama made it a point to “get out from behind the podium”, to meander around the room, filled with adoring subjects…uh…audience members. Very media savvy, I thought. Maybe a bit staged.

I glanced through the questions that were posted on the White House web site.  Most looked pretty normal. There were lots of people watching. Plenty of hits for the White house web site.

But wait.

Picture This Bernie

If ever there were a case for cameras in the court room Bernie Madoff’s appearance in federal court on Thursday is it.

The main objection to having cameras has always been that cameras create a “circus” atmosphere in the court room. Bogus argument. Every judge that I’ve seen in every courtroom has run his or her court room with amazing precision and control. At the slightest hint of a “circus” most judges gavel things back to order.

Anyone take notice what it was like when Bernie ran the gauntlet of cameras, photogs, reporters and producers this morning?

Dead silence.

Not a word from anyone. The predictions from veteran court observers of their being a “real zoo” at Bernie’s appearance this morning was over-rated. If cameras were allowed inside, I am sure there would have been similar control by the media.

Now’s the time to revisit the cameras in the court room controversy. It’s time that our judicial system take a look at the calendar. It’s 2009 not 1809.

Bernie cheated thousands of people out of 50 or 60 billion dollars. It would have been great for his victims to be able to see him in front of a judge. It would have been gratifying for all his victims to see Bernie led out of the court room in handcuffs.

Instead we got to see just snippets of our judicial system at work. Bernie’s victims were ripped off twice. Once by Bernie and a second time by the antiquated and biased judicial rules against the news media and the public it serves.

Dubya’s Desk Drawer

You know when you start a new job and you move into your new desk?  There’s always something left over from the previous owner:  some stray paper clips, maybe a key that never seems to fit anything.  Then if you dig around way in the back of the drawer you might find a nasty surprise; perhaps an exploded catchup pack mixed in with mangled gobs of chewing gum and packs of soy sauce.  It looks like a science project gone horribly wrong.

I wonder what Barack Obama will find in the top desk drawer of the presidential office when he moves in Tuesday afternoon.  Do you think President Bush left a special little note?  And what’s buried way in the back of the desk that past owners have forgotten? (Yeah, I know the cleaning crew went over the desk with a fine-toothed comb, but work with me here as I beat a metaphor to death.)

We Need a Hero

It was quite a rush.  Reporting on the “Miracle on the Hudson” yesterday on My9.  So many people ask me, “why do you always report the bad news…”

Well, yesterday it was our pleasure to report something positive: 155 people are safe and sound after  a four minute ride-from-hell, courtesy of a flock of Canada Geese.

The pilot, Captain Chesley B. “Sully” Sullenberger III, is being hailed as a hero.  (He deserves the moniker and also deserves a presidential invite to Barack Obama’s inaugural, a front row seat, please.)  But there were also other heroes as well.

How about his co-pilot?  How about the flight attendants?  What about the New York Waterways captain(s) who darted straight for the plane as it splashed into the Hudson?  Then there were the countless first responders who jumped into action to save the terrified passengers floating in the river.

All in all, it was one of those good days on the anchor desk.  Plenty of heroes, high drama, and a happy ending.  It is a shame all our stories can’t be like this one.

it took a village

We jumped off the tiny boat onto the shores of a fishing village on Lake Victoria.  It was a side trip I just had to make on my recent vacation to Kenya, the African country about the size of Texas. After a few welcoming handshakes and a few introductions one of our first topics of conversations was…drum roll please…politics.

“I am Barack Obama’s brother,” Mohamed Asanti bragged.  He was one of the first to greet us as we splashed ashore, amid curious children sitting in the idle fishing boats.

“Really, I exclaimed,” with a healthy dose of reporter skepticism.  “Let me interview you.”  The video camera was at the ready.

“Well…wait, wait, wait,” Mohammed hesitated, “He’s not my real brother, but my father knows his father.  He was from his village which is just a short way away.”  Obama’s father was from Alego just to the north of Kolunga, the place we visited.

At the health center there, workers proudly display a poster with Barack Obama and his wife being tested for AIDS, a growing health problem in the village.  (Senator Obama was tested in Kenya to promote AIDS testing throughout the country a few years ago.)

Then there’s the computer center where fashion designer Kate Spade donated computers so the village could have internet access and the women in the village could learn to use computers.  The men continue to fish while the women learn new skills.

“How do you feel about Barack Obama?” I asked Mohamed as we strolled through the village.

“We love Obama.  We love Obama.  Very good man.”

“Will he be the next President of the United States?”

“Ah, no one knows, we like him…”

“And how do you feel about John McCain?”  I asked fully expecting a less enthusiastic reply.

“Oh…John McCain.  We love him very much too,” answers Mohammed without hesitation.

Apparently, the village has not only learned computer skills, but diplomacy as well.

adopt an elephant

So it’s not every day you adopt an elephant.  But today I did just that outside of Nairobi, Kenya. That’s the big surprise location I mentioned last time and it’s from where I’m posting this blog.

This is a magnificent place and a vast and spectacular country. Despite some recent political troubles and isolated pockets of unrest, everything seems to be getting back to normal now. The saving of orphaned elephants is a heartwarming example of how caring and dedicated Kenyans are to their wildlife and country.

So this is the new baby named Kimana.  He’s just about three months old and was abandoned by his mother.  One day he came wandering into a Massai village looking for a little companionship. He was picked up by this magnificent agency that saves baby elephants.

It’s called the David Sheldrick Wildlife Trust…a place where about a dozen or so care takers nurse baby elephants back to health and then eventually release them into the wild.  It’s a lot trickier than you might think because elephants are highly social animals.  If they don’t learn all their elephant stuff as babies, their new herd won’t accept them.

So, these young men feed, teach, and act as surrogates.  They feed them every four hours with elephant baby formula (it took them 28 years of research to get it just right), and they even teach them how to be elephants (thirty years of elephant psychology study perfected that).

Here one of the care takers teaches a baby to wave his trunk, which is a key skill if you’re going to be a responsible member of an elephant herd some day. (They use these signals to communicate all different kinds of important elephant info.)  These men are so careful with the elephants that they even sleep in the same pens with them so they don’t become lonely and frightened.

All of this takes money of course, and that’s why we adopted one of the babies…to help defray the cost. (Above, I’m snapping off a few baby pix). If all goes as planned, our young pachyderm will be back in the wild in a few years. It’s a good thing these men are so successful because my son James was wondering how we’d get this little guy back to New York.  I’m sure there would be an extra charge to fit him in the overhead compartment of the plane.  (More posts when I get bandwidth.)

eye on london

It’s the first entry from “across the pond”. First stop was London. Fantastic city with lots of familiar names, (Greenwich, Jersey, York.) Post will be short. On vacation with the family to a surprise destination. (more in later posts).

Just took a ride on one of the coolest attractions in London. It’s called the London Eye. To say it’s a Ferris Wheel is a bit like calling King Kong “a chimp”. This thing is huge. It towers over the Thames River and has these walk-in pods that hold several dozen people.
From the top, which is 443 feet in the air, you can see China…well I exaggerate. You can see Big Ben, Parliament, and the Tower of London, depending on the London weather.

Speaking if which, they’re breaking records over here for heat. We’re told that this will be the hottest day of the summer. (Audrey can fill in the details if she likes, since I don’t do weather.) Considering how we Americans love air conditioning and the Brits haven’t yet discovered it, this may be a challenge. They hate ice too. Ask for ice and you get one cube.

Luckily, the people here are warm and friendly which makes the sights of this city even more delightful.

They’re courteous too. Since they drive on the opposite side of the road, we Americans are used to looking to our right when we cross the street. Check out the signs embedded in the pavement, to assure that tourists like me, don’t become road-kill.

It’s been said that America and Britian are two countries separated by a common language, so I thought I’d leave you with a few “Briticisms”…like witicisms only British.

Take Away = Take Out
Lift = Elevator
Yield = Give Way (driving)
The 7 Train = Underground
Television = The Telly
Call me on my cell = knock me up on my mobile

We better leave it there.  More in the days to follow depending on the internet connection.

GPS Envy

I thought that the voice in the car was innocent enough.  But apparently it was a little too friendly.  Maybe I listened too intently.  But when my lovely wife and I went to a recent wedding of a friend, I popped the address into the trusty ‘ole “Nav System” in our car.  My wife who is absolutely GREAT with directions, became slightly miffed when the voice on the GPS said “make the next right”.

“I have directions,” she sneered at the GPS.

“Well, it doesn’t hurt to have a back-up,” I smiled.

Oooops.  Even the defroster couldn’t melt the ice in the car now.

//—What follows is a “Guys Only Section”.

Guys…you know when you say something really innocent to your “significant other” but it’s just the wrong thing.  Now, when you said it you had no idea it was the wrong thing. And no matter how hard you try you just can’t talk your way out of it?  Kinda’ like stepping in gum.  It’s just sticky. If you’re not careful it can be a real mess.  Well, I stepped in gum on this one.

//—End “Guys Only Section”.

“I hope she gets us there on time,” my lovely and radiant wife joked. “And maybe she can get us around this huge traffic jam on the Cross Bronx,” my wife said as her voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Maybe she’ll dance with you at the wedding.”

“Oh, radiant-one you say the most clever things when you’re angry at the GPS,” I said, trying to ignore the verbal jabs that were hitting me faster than pot holes on the F.D.R.

GPS marketers tell us that the first people to jump on the GPS bandwagon were women. Their studies showed that GPS makes women feel more comfortable when driving to a new place.  Sixty per-cent of the women surveyed said it made them feel more secure. My GPS wasn’t making me feel secure.

//—What follows is a “Woman’s Only Section”.

So, not only do men NOT ask for directions, they don’t even want something like a GPS to give them directions.  Apparently, the technology gene in men is dominant over the don’t-ask-for-directions gene because now guys can’t get enough of the little GPS devices.

//—End “Woman’s Only Section”.

Men seem to prefer a woman’s voice.  At least that’s what a recent survey found.  Garmin, the people who make lots of GPS devices, says men find a woman’s voice more soothing.  A random survey by a newspaper in Fort Lauderdale says women in their 60’s like a guys voice on their GPS.  And if you want to really get creative Navtones.com offers celebrities like Burt Reynolds or the surley Mr. T and others that you can download into your Tom-Tom GPS.

No matter, I now know that I must be careful, or I will be discovered being too friendly to my GPS lady.  In fact a friend of mine (who named his GPS Lady “Penelope”)  found the solution.  He fights with his GPS and at times is verbally abusive. Much to his wife’s delight, he tells Penelope that she doesn’t know where she’s going.

So that’s what I’m going to try. I will make fun of my GPS lady.  But with my luck she and my wife will bond.  They’ll plan manicures together.  They’ll share hand lotion. They’ll gang up on me.  And, I’ll be right back where I started.

Still refusing to ask for directions

sexy summer sweat

A recent demonstration of evaporational cooling during a bike ride.

So it’s the heat of the Summer that’s got you down?  And you’re “sweating like a pig.”  Well, actually, Pigs don’t have functioning sweat glands. They roll around in the mud to cool off.  So, technically you can’t “sweat like a pig”.  But I digress.

Sweating is cool.  Sweat keeps our body from over heating through “evaporational cooling”.  Droplets of water (sweat) evaporate from our skin.  As liquid water transitions to water vapor, the water takes heat with it. Badda-bing, evaporational cooling.

But sweating gets better than that, because, in theory, sweating is sexy.

Scientific evidence has suggested that a chemical in male sweat may be a sexual stimulant for women. They did the research at University of California, Berkeley, so it has to be true.

Researchers asked 48 undergraduate women to sniff a bottle that contained androstadienon, a chemical found in male sweat. Another group sniffed a “neutral” substance.

Over a period of two hours, they tested all of the women’s hormone levels.  Sure enough, the women who sniffed the androstadienone reported that they were in a better mood and experienced “significantly higher” sexual arousal.

So being the avid scientist that I am. I thought it would be a great idea to test out this theory.

Would working up a sweat turn me into a “Babe Magnet”?

My co-workers were spared from this experiment. And since my spouse went to Berkeley, what better test subject could there be?

Told by spouse to sit outside or shower

She did not need a two hour period for the experiment.  The results were conclusive.  Sweat was not a “mood elevator”.  The experiment was a failure.

So as you swelter throught he summer, thank your sweat glands for keeping you cool, but don’t expect them to work miracles. Science says sweat is sexy. Your results may differ.