Posted on by CP

What If?

What if we could truly believe in ourselves?

Spring Equals Renewal and Change

Our mind is a glorious thing; tricky, complicated, and untapped. We are born thinking that everything and anything is possible, but as we grow older, the world and people around us teach us to limit our hopes and dreams to the just barely attainable. Why? Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we do this to one another? Why do parents tell their children that their dreams are unrealistic and/or silly? Is it jealousy? Resentment? If I can’t have it you can’t have it? Can we who are highly motivated overcome it?

Human beings are extremely complex creatures, making answering these questions near impossible. However, that’s not a bad thing; mystery, questioning, wondering — it’s all good. And the short answer to the last question, is a resounding yes.

The desires for oneself that I’m talking about here can be dreams, but they might also be what you are expecting to accomplish in your life; normal everyday expectations or big longterm plans.

To dream the impossible dream, to fight the unbeatable foe, to bear with unbearable sorrow, to run where the brave dare not go, to right the unrightable wrong, to love pure and chaste from afar, to try when your arms are too weary, to reach the unreachable star. This is my quest, to follow that star, no matter how hopeless, no matter how far. To fight for the right, without question or pause, to be willing to march into hell for a heavenly cause. And I know if I’ll only be true to this glorious quest that my heart will be peaceful and calm when I’m laid to my rest.
Joe Darion

Stretching Your Imagination

I’ve been working on this for a long time. I don’t have all the answers, but I thought it might be helpful to share some of the tools from my toolbox with you; oversimplified psychobabble, but an effective metaphor.

  • Write down what you hope to accomplish. When you put it on paper, you’re one step closer to reality.
  • Picture what you hope for in your mind. Repeat, rinse, repeat.
  • Tell people about your wishes. Be careful not to be pretentious or lofty.
  • Be inspired by what others have to say about goals and objectives.
  • Set goals and objections with no limitations. Add specific details for “how” and “when” later.
  • If you are a parent, tell your children that they can achieve anything they work hard to achieve.
  • Climb to the highest peak you can find (be alone or with someone who won’t mind your behavior). When you’ve reached the top scream what you want out loud several times. Listen to your own words and follow your heart.
  • Ignore the noise all around you — the “I wouldn’t do that if I were you nonsense.”
  • Staying power is everything, don’t let go no matter the obstacles.
  • Celebrate every hurdle.
  • Success in achieving your goals is a healthy elixir. Let it become a welcome habit.

I refuse to use the word manifest. We sometimes latch onto a word or phrase and allow it to become cliché.

I am aware that nothing that I share is new or something you haven’t heard before; however, I am also aware that a reminder is never a bad thing. Also, sometimes the same thing said differently, sticks.

Upcoming Travel

I will be returning to Manchester & Liverpool, England April 5. Following that, a brief return to Nantes and Pornic, France. Then Marseilles in June, and Glasgow/Oban, Scotland in July. Dubai and four countries in Asia this October/November. Land and sea tour of South Africa, February 2024.

People sometimes ask me why I visit the places I travel to:

  1. I have never been and have always wanted to go.
  2. I have been and I enjoyed it so much I want to return. It’s usually the food that draws me in.
  3. I am visiting a friend or family member(s).

I Had a Dream Last Night

Last night I had a dream that Paco (my pooch) and I went on vacation. The place we visited was dog friendly and they were in every household; most ran loose in the streets. There were many dogs who looked just like Paco. Briefly after arriving wherever it was that I was visiting, Paco somehow got loose and wandered off. Another dog that looked like Paco ended up at my door. I was extremely upset, but people kept telling me that I shouldn’t be upset because I had a small blond dog and that’s all that mattered. I wouldn’t and couldn’t let it go. I walked the streets shouting his name (Ruffino in my dream). I spotted a large pack of dogs running in another direction; Paco’s red harness stood out. I called out: “Ruffino come to daddy (I think his name was Ruffino because I’d been longing for good pizza all week).” He stopped and looked at me and then kept going. I managed to nab him. It was a bittersweet ending, I’m afraid. I woke up feeling that I was keeping Paco locked up in our home, when what he really wants is to be free with other dogs. That guilt only lasted a few minutes. Oh how the mind works.

Thank you for reading my ramblings.

Let’s Get Started!

I took this photo on a hike in Colorado recently. There were too many people around for me to scream out my hopes and dreams for the future; I did the next best thing, I screamed it in my head and you know what, it worked just as well. Limitations are made-up roadblocks we tear down or ignore.

Post Publishing:

A wise friend wrote to me about fear after I published my blog yesterday. Fear is probably the number one reason that people abandon their goals/dreams. I write about fear in an earlier blog. I also omitted money as a consideration. I’ve had some time to think about both of these obstacles and I like where I have rested on this. Anyone who knows me can tell you that fear is not usually a concern for me. Right or wrong, I often charge into situations without much consideration for whether or not I will fail or be hurt in the process of pursuit. As for the other, I was born in poverty. My family didn’t have much money and we didn’t talk about money as an obstacle to fulfilling life goals. I guess in retrospect that is a testament to both my parents. They instilled the, “If you want it, you should go for it attitude.” I still feel that way. Why not try and see what happens.

Positive intentions and thoughts equals positive outcomes; yes please.

Posted on by CP · 3 Comments

Quiet Chaos

How To Navigate This Crazy World We Live In

Chaos defined: noun. a state of utter confusion or disorder; a total lack of organization or order. any confused, disorderly mass: a chaos of meaningless phrases. the infinity of space or formless matter supposed to have preceded the existence of the ordered universe (dictionary.com).

How many people do you know who are taking anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication(s)? Smoking pot to chill or cope? Drinking alcohol to soothe the pain? Sleeping to escape? Running from pain? Personally, most of the people I know do one or more of the above in order to deal with the complexities of the world we live in. For some, it is a life saver and for others, it’s killing them.

The flip side: how many people do you know that thrive on chaos? They gravitate toward it, create it, or wait for it to happen. I know one or two of these people and I think they know who they are.

Conflict and Chaos are not to be confused — conflict is a disagreement or argument. A state of chaos might be present if there are several arguments taking place simultaneously or if the conflict is random. I like a bit of conflict when it might get you to agreement or some resolution; chaos on the other hand makes me want to flee. I once lived in the center of chaos and not by choice. I now do whatever I can to avoid it.

How Bad Is It These Days?

We always believe things are currently worse than they were before; that’s a common misbelief. I’ve written on the “state of the world” topic before, therefore, I will leave it at this: no doubt the world is a difficult place to inhabit these days, but I would argue that it’s safer and better than it’s ever been, in most places; technology and greater wealth have made it so.

Why Are We Judged So Harshly?

Social media is not necessarily a bad thing; keeping up with friends from all over the world is one of the features I fully embrace. But in my mind, the dark side of social media is having aspects of your life displayed before strangers. With that comes jealousy, judgment, and criticism — everyone has an opinion. Unfortunately, those opinions are related to little snippets of your life; mostly aspects of your life people know nothing about.

In addition, it suddenly seems as if it’s okay to pass judgment on others. Whether it’s about a woman’s right to choose, a drag queen reading to children, the right to bear arms with or without a criminal record, how old the president might be while serving; everybody has an opinion and no one seems shy about voicing that opinion publicly.

How I Know I am Impacted By Chaos

Perhaps growing up in a totally chaotic environment with many sisters and brothers, has shown me that peace and quiet and an absence of chaos is where I prefer to be. My mother was one of those people who thrived on chaos. Living alone with my pet (Paco) provides me the peace I require. I know that it’s unrealistic to think that I can remain inside 24/7, never interacting with another individual or group. I often force myself to socialize and be a part of group interaction. When one of these groups gets rowdy, I run away. An Irish goodbye might even be necessary (leaving without telling anyone — I’ve heard it called a French goodbye as well).

I grew up in Coney Island; full of tourists and the fringes of society. When we went to the beaches, there was no space between blankets; people seemed to like it that way. No judgment at all, just a bit chaotic. As a child I shied away from crowds.

My body reacts to chaos in several ways: I become anxious. I sweat. My stomach hurts. I get a headache. Usually at least one of these symptoms is present; sometimes all.

Not everyone responds to chaos the same way, unfortunately, I become prone to accidents due to being wildly distracted and anxious.

Coping Mechanisms

Turn it off — We don’t always choose to be right smack in the center of insane chaos, but sometimes it just sort of happens. The easiest thing to do is to step away from it. We often have that choice and do not not exercise it.

Steer clear of chaos — easier said than done perhaps. When I lived in New York City, I noticed that there were three or four streets in Times Square that were always congested and chaotic; people who had no idea where they were going, tourists milling about, individuals trying to get tickets for this or that performance, people who love being in the middle of soup. I avoided those streets and now I couldn’t imagine being anywhere near Times Square.

Turn it into something positive — the best way to learn from a situation is to take a step back and evaluate what just occurred. Ask yourself the following questions: Did I have anything to do with the chaos I just experienced? Could it have been avoided? What steps can I take to prevent it from happening again? For example: flying on the day before a major holiday? Perhaps you might choose to fly a week before the holiday or on the actual holiday? We all know airports are chaotic the day before or a couple of days before a major holiday.

Chaotic dreams — I’ve noticed that sometimes I awake from a dream and I recall chaos in the dream I just had. I think it may be a way my psyche is coping with the chaos in my life — a way of sorting it out in my sleep, rather than working through it in reality. I’ve noticed this more at times in my life when I am dealing with several major issues all at the same time: family, financial, plans gone awry, etc.

Making My Bed Every Morning — It’s been proven that having order in your home, leads to greater order in your life. Make your bed and pick up after yourself.

A tip: One of the best tips I learned from one of Queen Elizabeth’s butlers, is to wait at least 30 minutes after getting out of bed to make the bed. We sweat at night. The moisture needs to dry before you make the bed. Trust me on this one.

“Our real discoveries come from chaos, from going to the place that looks wrong and stupid and foolish.”
― Chuck Palahniuk

Upcoming Travel

In a few weeks I will be returning to Liverpool, England. Not for a Beatles tour, but to see a good friend, enjoy a diverse and cultured city, and eat ethnic (street) food. After that a brief return to Nantes and Pornic, France, Marseilles in June, and Oban, Scotland in July. I’m getting closer to my Grand tour of Dubai and four countries in Asia this October/November. It doesn’t seem to be the case, however, this year there is more time between trips and most of my journeys are shorter.

I recently booked a South Africa cruise on NCL. My college roommate and his wife will be joining me. South Africa has been on my bucket list for a long time.

_____________________________________________________

My friend David (I wrote about him a few blogs ago), pastel drew Hanging Lake where we hiked in Colorado and sent this to me so that I would never forget.

The piece is lighter and more colorful than this. I took a quick photo prior to sending it off to be framed. I chose a light orange frame to pick up the gold and green tones. I’m excited to hang and admire it.

Posted on by CP · 2 Comments

My Baby Sister

My sister Debbie 2nd to last on the right

I consider myself quite the fortunate one in many ways, but I got especially lucky when my baby sister Debbie came into the world.

Debbie at a year old, I was two

If you currently do not have a baby sister, I suggest you go and find one.

Debs as I affectionately call her, was born one year and 10 days after me. I can’t say I remember the day she was brought home, but I know for certain I was happy. I had two older sisters who were taking good care of me, but I needed a playmate and Debs fit the bill. I know most brothers and sisters have a unique bond, however, what made ours different was the hostile environment we were raised in and how we supported one another . . . and still do. Having one another as an anchor has served us well throughout our lives.

As a toddler, I enjoyed dolls and cooktop toys more than baseballs and bats; Debs had no problem sharing. She was easy going and doughy eyed. I think the thumb sucking calmed her down. She was teased a lot for it, especially by our mom. That part still makes me angry.

Our elementary school classrooms were next to one another for several years. I witnessed her teacher verbally abusing her and I told my mom about it. My mother was a lot of things I did not appreciate, but she was fiercely protective of her children. She went down to the school and reported the teacher and had my sister’s classroom changed. I was proud of her for that.

We were so close growing up that people would mistake us for fraternal twins. As her older brother, it was my responsibility to keep the boys away. Debs never resented me for it; she knew I wanted the best for her. She was shy during her teenage years and sensitive about all things personal. I loved the way she looked up to me.

I was in a very bad car accident when I was 18 years old. When my mom brought me home from hospital, Debbie walked into the house, saw me and wept hysterically. I believe she was imagining what it might have been like if she’d lost me. I sometimes wake up in a bad state from nightmares where something terrible happens to her; I guess we have similar fears of loss. Allow me to stress the happy times.

When she met her husband Lynn, she struck gold. The guy (pictured with sunglasses below) is a gosh darned saint. Together they had two beautiful children: Nicole and James. They’ve been nurturing and loving parents and they have always included Uncle Chris in all of their kids’ milestones. Nicole now has twins, Stella and Ben, and it’s been a joy to watch them grow. As a gay single man, having a family that I consider my own, is a true gift. It’s been fun observing my sister with her grandchildren; she’s affectionate and sweet. And her best quality, she’s always laughing.

Debbie, Lynn and my nephew James are very close. James is a career officer in the Air Force. James is also a talented musician; I suspect this is where his passion lies. Being an uncle is a privileged position in a family. It allows you to experience all the good bits without the inner family drama. I love my sister and her family dearly; however, this is often drama. My guess is that all of the trials and tribulations and relationship dynamics, add up to a very deep bond. As an outsider, that’s the part I don’t get to be a part of. That reality has it’s upside.

One Beautiful Memory

Debbie had just given birth to Nicole. It was her first and the whole family was excited. I had returned home from University to meet my new niece. I walked into my mother’s house and Debbie handed Nicole to me without saying a word. She was only days old and wrapped in a snuggly blanket. I brought her into another room to privately marvel at her beauty. I thought, this magnificent child is a part of me and she will be until I die. I must have had some insight into the roles Nicole and James would play in my life; how family is the most important thing we have and how the intimacy of family is everything.

[Subscribing is free folks! And not all of my blogs are sappy.]

Debbie and her husband Lynn came to see me in Portugal a few months ago; we had a blast. Appropriate “spicy” sign to her left.

_________________________________________________________

Upcoming Travel

Fort Lauderdale (Deerfield Beach) next week, then Nantes and Pornic, France, Liverpool, England, and Marseilles — Nantes and Pornic are happening on the same trip, over a four day period. Other holidays planned later in the year. Biggest trip of 2023 will be Dubai, Singapore, Vietnam, Thailand, and Hong Kong — end of October to mid-November.

Posted on by CP · 10 Comments

One Dog’s POV

Author: Paco Papagni

I want to be clear that I’m writing this to set the record straight; not for recognition or because I have nothing better to do. Dogs have historically contributed more to humankind than we are given credit for; we all have a story. My name is Paco and I belong to Chris. I don’t like the “belong” verb, but it’s better than “owned by” or “property of.”

More than three years ago I was abandoned and left for dead in a wooded area in Estoi, Portugal. There is not much I can say about my former owners, except that they are pond scum who had no business taking me into their home in the first place. I had a chip that was never registered. I suspect my mother was a stray who either lived on the derelict property or wandered close to it by mistake when she was pregnant with me and my siblings. Some of this is me filling in the gaps — it was a difficult introduction to the world and I’ve blocked the bad bits out.

I’m four years old (that’s a guess) and I’ve survived a lifetime of trauma already. After being left to fend for myself in a place where rats, wild dogs, poisonous insects, and who knows what else, thrive; I kept myself alive and I’m ready to tell you how it all went down. Please don’t feel sorry for me, I’m a dog, having a survival instinct is my secret weapon. It’s a world where humans rule and some of us pets get to help make their lives more livable — our sole purpose. Where, how and when this pairing-up situation plays out, is purely random. We know this at birth, even before we learn to speak.

There are things about me that made it somewhat easier to be paired with a human: I am blond, my hair is as soft as cotton, I am tiny, and my eyes are soulful. I only know these things about myself because others have told me. I’ve heard stories of ugly dogs being put down because nobody wanted them. I knew I was not of that variety very early on — this explains why I prance when I walk. I know who I am.

Still, I was literally thrown into a dire situation and before I could even try to find my person, I had to survive despicable humans and the wrath of nature. I awoke before the sun one morning not long after I was cast out into the wild. Small parasites discovered I was a host without protection. They attached themselves to my body and left me defenseless against their harmful pathogens. As a result, I became weak and unable to hunt for food. I feared my mother and siblings were far away and the wooded brush was my only blanket. Days and weeks passed and I became quite delirious — a state I was grateful for . . . for obvious reasons.

Weeks after the start of my affliction, I wandered onto a dirt road; a shipping container used as a house in the distance. Although it was a cold and rainy December day, I could smell a dog who may have been guarding the property. I approached the container hoping I would be seen or smelled. Hours passed as I shivered in the storm, breathing what I was fairly certain were my final breaths. Nearby voices woke me from my stupor and warm hands scooped me up from the side of the road. Two humans gently lifted me up and carried me to their home. The dog I’d smelled earlier kept trying to attack, although he did not know I was not a threat. I was weak, wet, and tired, and these humans thankfully kept this dog away from me. They tried to feed me, but eating was impossible. My instincts told me that this illness had made it certain that I would perish. All I wanted was to sleep.

A night passed and the humans took me to a place they thought might help. I was starving, thin, weak, and my breathing was labored. A gentle woman examined me and told the couple that there were tests she could do to determine why I was dying. The kind humans had no money, therefore, the best they could do was take me home and hope for the best. In the meantime, they spread the word that they had found me hoping to locate my owner — that would never happen. Some humans view us as expendable.

It must have been difficult to keep that other dog away from me because the humans seemed anxious all the time. They also mentioned taking me to the doctor, but they didn’t have the means. Someone who lived nearby told them that there was a local American man on Facebook looking for a dog in need of a home. This person said that he couldn’t come to meet me for two weeks, but she seemed to think that he would want me and that he’d be able to take me to the doctor. Knowing that I might soon have a forever home made me feel a little better. I started to eat a little and I know that I slept most of the time. The Scots, I believe they were Scots, had named me Whisper and I thought that sounded sort of lame. Still, I knew that I should be grateful.

Time passed slowly and I started to believe that I might die before this man came to meet me. One day one of the Scots answered the phone and it was Chris, the American they’d heard about. They told me that he’d be there to meet me later that day. At least I think that’s what they said.

Indeed, a car pulled into the driveway and two tall men and a woman got out. They seemed excited to see me and each of them held me in their arms. They were nice humans. I knew which one was Chris right away, because when he held me tears ran down his face and he kissed me about twenty times. I was pretty grungy from living in the woods, so I was a bit embarrassed. Before they left me, Chris said he would be back for me and I believed him. The Scots seemed relieved and happy, so was I.

I’m not 100% certain this part is true, but I seem to recall that my first owners (the scum) spoke Portuguese. When I was rescued by the Scots on the road by their house, they spoke funny; it might have been English. I was grateful that they’d found me, but I couldn’t understand anything they said. Then when Chris came to get me, I was pretty certain he spoke English. His words in the beginning made him sound angry, but I later learned that he was from Brooklyn and I’ve overheard his friends tease him about that; apparently Italian Brooklyn men sometimes come off as gruff. He’s a big guy so he can be intimidating. It doesn’t really matter, I understand everything now.

Chris took me to a doctor the day he brought me home. Maria (vet) told him I had a serious viral infection and that because I was so weak and my red blood count low, I might not make it. She said I was about 11 months old. Maria said she would do what she could to make me well. Chris’ friend Michele removed all the matted parts of my coat and gave me a bath. Being that I was matted everywhere, she had to remove most of it, but I didn’t mind. I already knew I was one of the fortunate ones.

My dad is a good human for the most part. I think he travels way too much and he often seems to get upset about how slow things move in Portugal. I know that no human or animal for that matter, is perfect, so I forgive him. The other thing he does that I wish he wouldn’t do, is fool with this little cellular thing. He’s constantly pushing on it and is talking to it and it mumbles back to him. I think he may be more in love with that thing than he is me, but again, nobody’s perfect.

It’s been three years now. Early on we had this government enforced stay at home restriction called a lockdown and it was just Chris and I, all day every day, for a long time — this happened twice. I liked that time with Chris. We would go outside and the streets would be empty. There is a dog park near our apartment and we would go there to run around. Everything was still and it was peaceful. I hoped it would last forever, but it didn’t.

I’ve been deathly ill several times. Aside from that killer virus I had when they found me, I’ve had an operable tumor on my paw, bronchitis I caught from a stray that came close to ending me, and one time we even had to go to a hospital in the middle of the night because I was having trouble breathing. Chris cries whenever I’m very sick. I wish that I could tell him that I’ll be okay and that I’m not going anywhere. I don’t think I could ever leave our home; it’s warm, quiet, and has a lot of soft surfaces. I have a bowl full of toys I play with everyday. I eat really well and apparently the doctor says that even though I could have died from that tick bite in the woods, I am now 100% healthy.

This was during lockdown. Chris talks to with a silly voice sometimes.

Things can get a bit crazy on our street. Two weeks ago a dog that I used to play with, Loki, was attacked by a big dog who got loose from his owner. The dog broke Loki’s spine in several places and he died; the owner was bitten as well. Some dog’s instincts tell them to attack, I was born to comfort. I’m sad about Loki because I know his owner would have prevented the attack if he could. I know Chris would be very sad if that had happened to me; we’re both extra careful now. All animals, including humans, are unpredictable.

I have a friend, Patricia, who stays with me whenever Chris leaves town. She has a dog named Petucha; she’s like a sister (see photo below). Petucha lives across the street, so I get to see her a lot. I’m glad she doesn’t live with us, I like things just the way they are.

I think I might be the happiest dog alive. There are only two things I truly need in my life: treats and Chris, in that order. My dad tells me he loves me a lot; even though I can’t say the words, I let him know, in my own way, that I love him too. Blond and tiny or not, I know that I’m a pretty lucky dog. Lastly, Chris renamed me Paco the day he brought me home; my new name suits me just fine.

Patucha and me on my terrace

Posted on by CP · 4 Comments

Hurled Into the Extraordinary World of Food

At A Ripe Early Age


I have a confession to make. I’m not proud of it. I wish I hadn’t done it, but it was over 50 years ago and it’s time to let it go. There were eleven children from two different wombs in my family; that’s a story for another day. I was born to please. I learned early on that if I did the “right” thing, I would get the food that I wanted and liked. If I played my cards right, I could count on privileges my siblings were unaware of, and further, it was not my place to tell them. At the ripe old age of 12, I volunteered to do the weekly grocery shopping. With a family as large as mine, door-to-door delivery was necessary and fortunately for us, free. My neighborhood grocery store knew my family; I’m certain they were grateful we were catholic (usually an absence of birth control) and big eaters. You may be thinking that I was a good kid to relieve my mother of this cumbersome chore, but alas, I had an ulterior motive. Each week I would purchase cake and sweets which I did not send home with the delivery boy (always boys — I later became one myself). I coveted these ill-gotten goods and devoured them on the way home. This would explain my pudgy teenage physique. What I couldn’t eat I hid for later consumption. I committed this heinous crime for quite some time; my parish priest was never told at confessional (also for a later blog). Finally, a combination of guilt and excess pounds forced me to give up my criminal behavior. Lighten up, I’m no George Santos.


I’m afraid this was not my only crime. As the eldest son of divorced parents, I was charged with the task of taking the Brooklyn N train to Coney Island. I would meet my father at Carolina Restaurant for family meal (when restaurant staff sit down to eat before service); we spent ten quick minutes eating peasant Italian food and sharing not-so-pleasant stories about my mother and stepfather. Toward the end of our weekly ritual, I’d stick out my hand for the cash I made the trip to secure. Collecting and doling out our weekly allowance was solely my responsibility. I did not take this task lightly, in fact, I saw this as a huge burden. A burden deserving of compensation. Confession #2, I paid myself a salary for my hard work getting each of them their cash on time each every Tuesday, and me, worse for the wear. My earned bonus went toward the purchase of Coney Island confections at the sweets counter under The El: taffy, chocolate covered peanuts, huge colorful jawbreakers, and jellies. I had 20 minutes on the train home to hide the evidence in my belly.

I’m ashamed of these deceptions; however, they mark the beginning of my fascination with all things culinary. My desire to have all kinds of foods led me to a lifelong struggle with guilt, weight loss, and
the avoidance of food related lies. It feels good to report that most of these issues are under control. Although this is my first time publicly admitting my egregious wrongdoings, I have come to terms with my past and I forgiven myself. After all, we were dirt poor and my entrepreneurial spirit just needed channeling in a more positive direction. It it my hope that my siblings do not read this blog (I’m certain they won’t actually). I’m positive several of them would hold me accountable and might even go so far as to seek retribution — I imagine years of skimming off the top of their allowance, added up. My parents are long gone; they probably would have laughed about it and patted me on the back–afterall, it was their DNA that got me into that mess in the first place.

“I know once people get connected to real food, they never change back.”

– Alice Waters

Fast forward to college and beyond. As a college student, my school loans went toward buying food and eating out. I borrowed books and used the reference section of the library in order to spend less money on books for school and more money on good food. My father cooking was sublime; his knowledge of food extensive, and so, he consequently, spoiled me for life. I can’t be happy with MacDonald’s or canned beans. Like most incurable illnesses, I cannot be blamed for this affliction. Food has taken me to places I never imagined I would go. Dinners with Julia Child, business trips with Jacques Pépin, curriculum meetings with José Andrés, a lifelong friendship with the former editor of Bon Appetit, Barbara Fairchild, who is one special human. I realize it all started from a series of lies, but they were miniscule lies in the scheme of things. I have fond memories of discussions with Anthony Bourdain, although I never ate his food. My friendship with André Soltner will always be cherished (owner of Lutece in NYC). And 16 years at The French Culinary Institute was the single greatest gift of my life; the marriage of education and incredible foods doesn’t get any better. And as an added bonus, I met a few people there who have become lifelong friends. Not just foodie friends, they’d take a bullet for me friends.

“My weaknesses have always been food and men – in that order.”

– Dolly Parton

The FCI, eating at the #1 restaurant Francescana, cooking without recipes

Why I love Food

My father gets 100% credit for my love of good food. In addition to being a fabulous cook, he also loved food from all around the world. On his day off from work, he often took us to restaurants in our very diverse neighborhood. But I do have a story to share:

I was visiting him in Florida after he retired there. I told him I was taking him out for Chinese food; however under one condition: I would be ordering the food for us (I was a precocious twenty year old). He insisted on knowing why. I was quite frustrated with his resistance; he always ordered the same three dishes and I wanted him to try some Chinese food he’s never eaten. After a couple of hours of telling me I was ridiculous and stubborn, he gave up the fight. I ordered five or six exotic Chinese dishes: shark fin soup, abalone in garlic sauce, fried mashi; to name a few; I ordered a lot.

My dad was open minded, but he liked what he liked and he did not like dinner that night. He didn’t complain during the meal; however, after I paid the check he said, “From now on I’ll pay for my own meal and order whatever the hell I want.” He was right of course; I was an SOB.

It’s a Blessing and a Curse
Have you ever gone into a restaurant and found a dish so sublime you couldn’t get it out of your head? Two weeks later you return to said restaurant only to find out the chef left or he’s away for a few weeks or they’ve taken the dish off the menu and they’re not sure if it will ever return or the purveyor no longer carries that cut of beef or it just doesn’t taste the same and you don’t know why? This is the story of my life. Whenever any of the aforementioned happens, I am devastated and ruined for the day.

On the flip side, there are foods and dishes that I love that will never go away for the following reasons:

  • I cook them.
  • Many food brands have been around for 100 years.
  • Brooklyn and all of it’s wonderful ethnic restaurants is here to stay.
  • It comes from the ocean.
  • People would revolt if pizza and/or hamburgers went away.
  • They’ve been around for many centuries (e.g., nuts, rice, vegetables, bread, pasta).
  • Salt & pepper will be here long after we’re gone.

Fine dining is nice on occasion. I ate at high end, expensive, popular, talented chef restaurants, for so long it became tedious; if I’m going to be honest, I prefer either my own cooking or a neighborhood restaurant with good food. I can’t do super rich anymore; my digestive system just can’t handle it. I’d rather have a nice meal at a good price and take home the leftovers. When I really want to eat well: fresh, simple, and delicious . . . I cook. Cooking is my Zen place.

Then there is the wine — I’ll leave it at that.

Future Travel

Fort Lauderdale (Deerfield Beach) in two weeks, then Nantes and Pornic, France, Liverpool, England, and Marseilles, France — Nantes and Pornic are happening on the same trip, over a four day period. Other holidays planned later in the year. Biggest trip of 2023 will be Dubai, Singapore, Vietnam, Thailand, and Hong Kong — end of October to mid-November. This will be an adventure of a lifetime that has been postponed three times due to COVID.

Co-coaching

I am over two months into a co-coaching experiment I will write about soon. There are two things I want to tease you with:

  1. We sometimes limit ourselves in what is possible due to financial situations. This is unfortunate; I’ve learned there are many constructive things you can do with your life that cost nothing or next to nothing.
  2. Doing a deep dive into what emotionally and psychologically ails you is not easy, but it can be the most rewarding thing you will ever do.

________________________________________________________________________

I commissioned Lori Owens Kostiuk, a very talented artist friend, to do a watercolor portrait of Paco. She truly captured the essence of Paco in his Sweet Pea harness. Thank you Lori. If you’re interested in a portrait of your pet, private message me for her details or find her on FB, LOK Studio 6.

“I cook with wine. Sometimes I even add it to the food.”

– W.C. Fields

This was a fun blog to write. Thank you for reading.

Posted on by CP · 4 Comments

What Strength Looks Like

Strength of character is what I will be be discussing in this piece. Inner strength; strength that comes from resolve, survival, wisdom and experience. We are all warriors; your authentic self is where your strength thrives.

“True strength is the courage to admit our weaknesses.”

— Simon Sinek

Weaknesses

For a change, this is not about me. Not that I’m unwilling to admit my weaknesses; I have many and I often reminded of them; sometimes by friends and family. Weaknesses are difficult to come to terms with if you are hard driving and highly motivated.

I am referring to weaknesses such as embellishing the truth, self-esteem struggles, needing others to validate you, lacking empathy, shying away from reality, surrendering control, allowing people to push you around, and a few more I cannot think of right now.

Apologizing for everything is seen as a weakness. As human beings we all make mistakes. Most of us are forgiving and willing to overlook unintentional blunders. When you constantly apologize, people see you as fragile and weak. Forgive yourself and move on. Not so easy sometimes.

Strengths

Strengths may be easier to identify than weaknesses. What makes you proud and prideful? What fills you with self-esteem and a feeling of self-worth? What do others admire about you? What do you admire in and about others? Do you stand up for yourself and what you believe in?

Ask yourself these questions, be honest with your answers, and then make notes about what you’re pleased about or changes you’d like to make. You’re in control of a great deal more than you may believe.

What is Appropriate

Being authentic comes at a cost. Unfortunately, strength of character can be intimidating. You have to keep in mind that there are haters and jealous individuals everywhere. These people do not want you to succeed because they know they do not have the wherewithal to succeed themselves. They will work hard to bring you down or stop you from being fully empowered or realizing your full potential. These individuals are insecure and often in a great deal of emotional pain. Unfortunately, there is little you can do to help them, they have to want to help themselves. Do you know people who fit this description?

Weak and insecure individuals know that once you find your power, they will no longer be relevant. As difficult as it may be at times, the best way to disarm these individuals is to disengage. My resolve was tested this week and I am pleased to report that I walked away — practice, practice, practice. The lift you receive from taking the high road is incredibly rewarding.

Standing Up for Yourself

As difficult as standing up for yourself might be, it’s the only way you will achieve empowerment. Empowering yourself to live life with determination, reflection, action, and authenticity. Never allowing someone else to make you do something you do not want to do or be someone you do not want to be. This is one of the key principles in personal fulfillment.

I have watched so many people allow others to control them. It’s a difficult thing to witness because there is very little you can do about it. This kind of growth has to come from the desire for freedom and pride.

I not only have the right to stand up for myself, but I have the responsibility. I can’t ask somebody else to stand up for me if I won’t stand up for myself. And once you stand up for yourself, you’d be surprised that people say ‘Can I be of help? — Maya Angelou

Future Travel

Fort Lauderdale (Deerfield Beach) in three weeks, then Nantes and Pornic, France, Liverpool, England, and Marseilles, France — Nantes and Pornic are happening on the same trip, over a four day period. Other holidays planned later in the year. Biggest trip of the year will be Dubai, Singapore, Vietnam, Thailand, and Hong Kong — end of October to mid-November. This is an adventure of a lifetime that has been postponed three times due to COVID. The extra time has given me the opportunity to truly consider how I want to spend my time in Asia. I do not like long flights; therefore, Asia will not be a frequent destination.

Status Of My Hybrid

Although I’m enjoying my tiny Fiat 500C, a hybrid will not save you as much on gas as you might have thought. I think I might be getting about 10 additional miles per gallon — if that. I guess it has more to do with the psychological benefit; I am after all, helping to save the planet (tongue in cheek).

I am learning to laugh at myself. When you take yourself less seriously, others around you will ease up on you and consequently, themselves.

Never be afraid to stand with the minority when the minority is right, for the minority which is right will one day be the majority. — William Jennings Bryan

Posted on by CP

Empathy

Coping With and Managing Empathy

What We’re all Dealing With

Everyone tends to believe that circumstances are worse now than they’ve ever been. The truth is that this is just not the case. The Holocaust was a great deal worse; WWI or WWII were terrible times, Hiroshima, plagues in history when millions perished — yes there were worse times. Some of us tend to forget the suffering, horrors, and chaos humankind has endured in the past. Some, understandably, will never forget.

Still, the current status of the world is challenging: climate change, mass shootings, pandemics, cancer, war, the economy, the list goes on and on. But human beings are survivors; we are built to come up with solutions and cope with whatever lands in our laps. Positive thinking and a good attitude goes a long way — I’m not saying it’s easy.

Internalizing the Pain Others Are Feeling

No doubt empathy is a double edged sword. Without empathy we are without care or feeling, while with it, we carry the burden of pain. Still, it should not be forgotten that it is usually a lot worse for those experiencing pain or loss first hand. Being supportive of the person(s) in pain by being by their side or letting them know you are there for them, is more productive and healing for all parties. Letting others know how sorry you are by displaying your emotions publicly is usually not helpful.

When my brother passed, my mother could not support the woman who walked out on him. Even if her grief was real and justified, my mother had lost her son and it was my mother I needed to support. Sometimes we forget that empathy means prioritizing your emotional and physical support.

You can also be empathetic toward someone you are not terribly fond of; this is called being compassionate and a good human.

The Lack of Empathy Around Us

The term “thoughts and prayers” has been troubling me lately. To tell grieving parents that your thoughts and prayers are with them is hypocritical in some situations and most can see right through hypocrites. How could someone who supports the purchasing of firearms without a background check, be empathetic? There are so many clear examples of the use of religion or laws to justify a lack of empathy for others.

This idea of showing strength and keeping your emotions hidden, is nonsense. Being strong when others need you is essential; however, being stoic and without emotion makes those around you skeptical of your ability to understand their pain. As with all things balance is key.

Unfortunately, some people lack the ability to feel empathy; these individuals are broken and in need of therapy or some other means of awakening their emotions.

Coping Mechanisms

  • I hate to suggest this, but I firmly believe that sometimes the only way to deal with something is to turn it off (not deal with it).
  • Thinking about the worst case scenario. Not always, but sometimes, reality is less harsh.
  • Be good to yourself — do something nice for yourself.
  • Extend your sympathy to the person who is most affected.
  • Guilt is a horrible thing to feel and it is usually unwarranted. Survivor remorse or guilt is a very real feeling and for some, it is just as hard to deal with as if the tragedy happened directly to them. One way to deal with guilt is to talk it out with a friend. An objective point of view can be helpful. Knowing that the passing of time often makes things a bit easier, is useful knowledge to be aware of.
  • Find peace in knowing that empathy is so much more positive than a lack thereof.
  • Putting your thoughts and feelings in writing.

Do you have ways of coping with empathy on steroids? Please share.

How do you tell someone that they lack empathy? The $10,000 question.

Future Travel

This three month break from travel has been exactly what I needed. Too much of a good thing and all that jazz. No need for further explanation.

South Florida in four weeks, then Nantes and Pornic, France, Liverpool, England, and Marseilles, France (first time). Other trips planned for later in the year. More next blog. I’m learning to spread my trips apart and appreciate them more.

State-of-Mind

Many things help us to cope as we navigate the day-to-day. I find two things very useful. The first is gratitude; thanking the universe for the many things we have to be grateful for: good health, friends, family, travel, having means, the weather, etc. The second thing that helps me prepare for the day and keeps me physically and mentally healthy, is exercise. For me it’s a trip to the gym five or six days a week. I’ve been participating in this daily routine for over 40 years; although it is not a cure-all, it sure does check a lot of good health boxes. Just be grateful that you have a heart and the ability to feel.

How to Be More Empathetic, NY Times, “A Year of Better Living,” Claire Cain Miller.

A question, I thought I should address, came up this week: How do you choose your topics? I do not spend a lot of time thinking about what to write. I usually open up my laptop when it’s quiet and I have no plans. I look at a blank blog page, click “write” and I begin to type. My guess is that the topic has been swirling around my brain the night or day before I write, but I’m not fully conscious of it.

Occasionally, a topic will come up at a table of friends during a meal.

I mostly write to sort things out in my head. I’ve learned that a combination or journaling and blogging clears my mind so that I can enjoy the moments that matter.

“Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers.”

— Isaac Asimov

Posted on by CP · 2 Comments

Tools For Survival In the Modern World

Situations I’ve Discovered Require Tools

  • Navigating difficult people
  • Stress from work
  • Aging
  • Coping with medical issues
  • Sorting through stuff in order to determine what matters most
  • Discovering how to talk to people (all people)
  • Managing dark and dangerous thoughts
  • The unexpected, the reimagined, and the unintended

Tools For Living

The best tool is a good friend; a friend whom you can trust and call upon. This friend will not judge or question your loyalty. A friend can get you through some pretty rough stuff. Be sure to nurture good friendships, they’re hard to come by.

Food & beverage of your choice, are another great tool. It doesn’t have to be a gorging session or drinking your way into a drunken stupor. I’m talking a nice meal with someone you care about, a dinner party, a destination meal, fresh veggies from your garden, a nice glass of red or white . . . you get my point. Something to look forward to; something to take your mind off whatever it is that is troubling you. Escaping for the moment isn’t bad as long as you eventually deal with whatever it is you need to deal with. Stepping away helps you put things in perspective.

Learning how to be a good communicator is a tool that will pay off in spades. I know I have repeated this repeatedly, however, it’s worth repeating again: learn how to be a good listener. It’s an invaluable tool. Listen intently with your entire being. In addition, validate, repeat back key thoughts, share, confide, show interest, be objective, be generous, provide feedback when asked, and lean in. Authenticity is key when communicating; people will see right through you otherwise.

Developing a thick skin is essential for survival. There was a time when people kept most of their thoughts, feelings of contempt, resentment, rage, etc. to themselves; then along came social media. Now someone thinks a sideways glance to their ex was salacious and suddenly it’s all over Facebook or worse, Tik Tok. You need to be able to let it roll off your back and ignore it. Not easy, but if you spend the time to cultivate this practice, you will be a whole lot better off.

The ability to walk away when you are exposed to toxicity. A healthy self-esteem comes from looking out for your own well-being. Part of survival is having the ability to say “no more” or “I’m done.” It may be difficult while you’re in the thick of it, but you’ll be glad you did it when you discover how much better off you are or how much better you feel.

Laughter is a tool I often forget to use. Humor and the ability to lighten things up is part of living a happy and healthy life. I (we) take life far too seriously. Do not apologize for injecting levity into a situation or conversation. I told a joke at lunch with about 15 people last week. I noticed many were laughing, but two or three people had a very serious look on their faces. I immediately thought, oh no, I should apologize. The thing is, if they’re uncomfortable with your sense of humor, it’s more than likely a reflection of them and their biases than you. Don’t apologize, if they can’t handle your humor they can either tune you out or confront you; most people will never have the nerve to do the latter and that’s not your problem. I’m still learning this lesson.

Being authentic and true to yourself is less a tool and more a way of being. It’s necessary for success with relationships and real happiness. I truly admire people who are comfortable in their own skin.

Talking about reaching into your toolbox has become cliché. That’s unfortunate, because in fact, if you have worked hard to come up with healthy and useful ways of dealing with difficulties in your life, you should be able to call upon these “tools” without feeling that your methods are being discounted by others. If this works for you, by all means use it. “Whatever works” is cliché as well, but truth is truth. At the end of the day you want to feel good about yourself and sleep well; you will awake a stronger, healthier, more optimistic you.

What makes me equipped to share these thoughts with you? The answer is simple: life experience, hard work, and the desire to pay it forward. I took an elective course at University entitled: Living Skills; the best three credits of my educational career.

My Inspiration

I am working on a life coaching project — two individuals coaching one another. It’s early days, but eventually I’ll be writing about it. Our recent conversations inspired this blog. My coaching partner shall remain nameless. Peaked your interest . . . hmmm, you’ll never find out who it is.

“The only person you should strive to be better than, is the person you were yesterday.”

— Matty Mullins

Posted on by CP

NOISE

Of all the varieties of modern pollution, noise is the most insidious.

~ Robert Lacey

Familiar feeling?

Good Sounds

  • Rain hitting a tin roof
  • Paco’s breathing while he sleeps
  • Music that I choose to listen to
  • Small children laughing
  • A waterfall
  • Thunder when I’m inside and safe
  • Someone speaking softly. It’s a bonus if they are saying something that matters
  • Waves crashing against rocks
  • Paco’s barking and howling when we’re playing
  • The shaking of a martini
  • A breeze gentling rustling tree branches and leaves
  • The sound of silence

I’m so glad I made this list because until today, I have been thinking that all I wanted to hear was silence.

Noise Gets Worse As My Day Progresses

Ambulance sirens sounding, jack hammers hammering, motorcycles revving, revving and revving their motors, car alarms, banging, smashing, and clanging; after awhile you’re almost certain you are losing your mind.

Having grown up in a big city, I am accustomed to having a great deal of background noise in my everyday life. When I moved to North Carolina to attend college, the sound of silence made me extremely uneasy. I recall turning on a fan, just to hear some sort of sound. I’m long over that. Now, whenever and wherever possible, I prefer quiet. The kind of quiet where you listen for a sound and hear only your own breathing. To be perfectly honest, I rarely get to experience this level of quiet.

I can’t help thinking noise follows me. Here’s an average weekday:

Lately I wake at about 4:15 a.m. It’s the quiet of the early morning that gets me up at this hour. I’m like the Eveready battery, I go, go, go and I stop abruptly when I run out of energy — this tends to happen at around 8:00 p.m.; I stopped fighting it a long time ago. When I wake at 4:15ish, fully recharged, I take Paco for a leashless walk. It’s the only time my neighborhood is quiet. It’s fantastic and I never take this time of the day for granted. There is sometimes a very obnoxious and strange sounding bird singing his morning song, but I pay him no mind (he must move around). Cars occasionally speed by at this hour, going way too fast. I often see a patrol car sitting across from my building, but they don’t seem to mind the speeding. I was once the driver speeding past; now I’m just waking rather than returning home from the club.

A few minutes of this outdoor time and we return to my peaceful apartment. The 90 or so minutes before my gym visit, is the quietest time of the day for me; I savor every second. Add a rare thunderstorm to this mix and I’m happier than I deserve to be.

My walk to the gym is pleasant: stray cats in heat, manual window shutters opening, an occasional clothing line squeaking — none of these sounds are disturbing to me. The gym is almost always a symphony of harsh sounds: weights dropping to the floor, macho men sharing football stories, women laughing about the same men, and shower hollering meant to rise above the running of water. These are sounds I expect to hear; I embrace them because they allow me to exist in the quiet of my thoughts.

When I arrive home after the gym, this is when it all changes. By now, construction workers have arrived at work, trucks dumping stone in the park being renovated are beeping as they back up, four schools filling with boisterous students — ages three to twenty-two, cars stopping and going in traffic, angry horns beeping; all as if to wake us from a restless slumber and they do wake us.

This assault lasts about an hour, followed by several hours of normal traffic and constant construction noise — hammers, saws, generators, the chipping away of wall plaster, working me being way to loud; none of it pleasant.

When the school let out, it gets quite noisy once again. At 7:00 p.m. dog walkers chat outside, but this I don’t mind. At 8:00 p.m., when my neighbors are eating dinner or watching television it is almost as quiet as the morning; not quite, but tolerable and considerate. Weekends in my neighborhood are a different animal altogether; most weekends are luxuriously peaceful.

Avoiding Noise

There are several things I do to avoid or tune out noise: earbuds are fantastic, I close windows and doors to drown it out, I do my outdoor chores during the worst of it, I stay home all day on holidays when it’s peaceful for 24 hours straight, and my bedroom is nearly soundproof when everything is closed. I work hard at keeping noise at bay.

Here’s what I don’t do: yell at the kids from the high school when they gather in front of my building, honk my horn, yell in public unless I have no choice, talk on speaker phone while on public transportation or in a restaurant, screech my car tires, encourage Paco to bark outside, slam down the top of the trash bin, and I never force others to listen to my music.

Travel

I have stuck to my recent commitment to hold off on travel for a few months and it has been fantastic. I feel rested, grounded, and I have more money in my pocket. I’m certain Paco is pleased as well. Yes that is Paco wearing his red Sweet Pea harness.

A Compromised Environmental Goal

When I left Maine five years ago, I made a decision to work a little harder on a, rest-of-my-life goal, to reduce my carbon footprint. I’m a climate change believer; although I am only one among billions, I believe all of us, working together, can make a difference. Using public transportation has been challenging here in Portugal lately; therefore, I have been forced to purchase a vehicle. Without outlets anywhere near my condo building, electric was not an option. I’ve opted for a hybrid Fiat; a satisfactory compromise. I will continue to use public transportation whenever possible. And I will fly when it is my only option.

_____________________________________________________

The World Health Organization … estimated that 1.6 million years of healthy living are lost every year in Europe because of noise pollution.

~ A. J. Jacobs

After Thoughts

I know that some of my writing has been negative lately; however, putting my thoughts and feelings in writing has helped to sort out many of my recent struggles. Thank you for listening.

Also, please forgive spelling or proofing errors — reading back my writing is a painful task.

Posted on by CP · 4 Comments

10 Things I Love to Hate

From What I Hate Most to What I Hate Most

  1. Cigarette smoking, if it’s anywhere near me. I am aware that nicotine is a strong addiction.
  2. Men doused in cheap cologne. I have never experienced this issue with woman. It seems to be a European male thing (obviously not all men).
  3. People who lie (not including white lies to prevent bad feelings or pain).
  4. When a business fails to deliver a service and then does not own their mistake and/or compensate adequately.
  5. When someone knows they did something wrong, however, refuses to apologize.
  6. Cheaters. Not the same as liars.
  7. People who do something egregious and then refuse to own the consequences.
  8. Vanity.
  9. When people use religion as a reason to strip away the rights of others.
  10. People who abuse children in any way. People who parent children, but put themselves first. People who murder children. I like to think I can forgive anything, but, I’m not sure I can forgive murdering a child.

Honorable mention: when people do not pick up their dog’s poop or when they throw trash on the ground, when people talk about money incessantly, and certain political leaders.

I could have kept going.

The Good News

I’ve sort of worked all of this hate out of my system over the last five years; pretty much since I arrived in Portugal. Yes, I still get angry, frustrated, and pissed off, but not nearly as often and for shorter periods of time.

Smoking Gets Its Own Heading

I have a couple of friends who smoke cigarettes. I hope they don’t get angry with me when they read this. I love them; because of my affection, I’m willing to deal with the smoke — just being honest here. I am absolutely certain there are things about me that annoy them. There are degrees of hate (like most things in life); this is the kind of hate that I feel because I know what smoking does to one’s health — I watched my mother die from lung cancer. She smoked days before she died, knowing it was killing her. Hard for me to wrap my head around that.

I’m fairly certain we all have a “hate” list. Putting it in writing helps to keep things in perspective. My “love” list is a lot longer.