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Dr. Nick De Bonis
Number of posts: 9
Email address: email
By Dr. Nick De Bonis:
A discussion on NPR’s Talk of the Nation (TOTN) opinion page this afternoon focused on the use of surveillance cameras for security in the wake of last week’s Boston Marathon bombing and aftermath. The show’s summary read, “Investigators in the Boston Marathon bombings were able to identify the suspects using footage from surveillance cameras. Some believe that this shows the need for surveillance cameras in public spaces, while others believe that such cameras encroach on our civil liberties.”
Garbage In, Truth Out
One of the main reasons our founding fathers established the electoral college was the belief that the average citizen didn’t necessarily possess access to or the ability to understand information necessary to make an informed decision about who should be president and so they didn’t want to entrust that choice to the general population. Given today’s political climate of professional politicians and “spin” selling of the “truth” by all parties, our forefathers were clairvoyant.
The System Had Given Up
Our almost 26-year-old son continues to amaze me. Consider this Facebook post a couple of days ago.
The sun is gone and there is no light to see
the moon is coverd and theres only a little breez
the waves crash and roll your sail boat around
the sound of rain splatter all around
dont give up and dont give in
keep sailing on untill you see
the lighthouse to lead you in.
I asked where the lyric was from and he replied that he’d written it because he was bored the night before.
The New Black & White
Mike said it on Facebook. “It’s a long way until November and I’m already getting tired of all the political ads. I hope that people get their heads out of the sand, their asses in gear and put GOD back into their lives and into this COUNTRY. Put the Constitution back into government. And we the people demand a balanced budget. I’m now getting off my soap box. PLEASE WAKE UP AMERICA!!!!!”
I’ve known Mike since junior high. I don’t know his politics. But I do know his sentiment.
My 16-year-old daughter and I were on a 2-week Kerouac odyssey to D.C. for the 4th of July fireworks, her first visit to NYC, and then on up the east coast to northern Maine, a border crossing into Canada, another first for her, and back to Georgia.
She was sharing a list of some of the colleges her friends were going to attend after graduation and the angst she was experiencing trying to figure out what she wanted to be when she grew up, including whether she wanted to go to college or was college “material.”
Serendipity is a playful imp…
I lost my innocence in the early afternoon of 22 November 1963 in the shower of my high school boys’ locker room. We’d finished a strenuous gym class, the kind which broke an honest sweat, and were showering, naked, guys I’d known since kindergarten and I.
The speaker box in the locker area blared with the principal’s voice, which was a unique mid-day interruption. We couldn’t hear what Mr. Hoffman said in the shower, but the locker room went dead silent. A couple of us stepped to the shower entrance and asked what he’d said.
Too Important To Fail
Dear President Obama:
After four years of struggling to avoid it, my wife and I were hit with the “F-bomb” last week, 3 April 2012. And I’m not talking about “firetruck” with five letters removed. Our dream home, in which we lived only three years and left four years ago for new jobs, was foreclosed.
It was a slippery slope to foreclosure fueled by circumstances which were largely out of our control. My wife’s company “right-sized” in 2006 due to financial problems resulting from mismanagement, and she and a large proportion of other older employers were let go.
I’m 63 going on 26. And for me to publicly acknowledge my chronological age is a major breakout from denial. I am going kicking and screaming into that good night of maturation.
In truth, I don’t mind being older, wiser, experienced, more understanding about life and its vagaries. What I do mind is how others react to my chronological age, which is evidenced in the gray hair, the lines around the eyes and on the brow, the brown skin spots.
The defining moment which triggered this diatribe was when my 25-year-old son, wife and I were discussing a phone upgrade for him. Yes, he’s still on the family plan because it’s cheaper, according to the family CFO.
You know how you sometimes hear things that start the George Carlin “hmmmmm” in your head? I saw a TV ad for a funeral home with a tag line, “African-American owned and operated.” Hmmmmm.
I grew up in the ’60s in an Iowa town that was de facto segregated by a river. My high school school class of 500-plus was 60% black; the high school on the other side of the river was roughly 1%. I spent a year in Nam living in a barracks with inner-city blacks from Detroit, Washington, LA, New York, Chicago discussing civil rights, learning Hendrix and how to be an honorary “brother.” I’ve spent most of my adult life in the South. I’ve taught at an HBCU (historically black college and university.) I don’t classify friends as white or black. This is background so that hopefully my remarks can be seen in context.