We need one man to lead us now
We need this special sacred cow
To him we’ll give fidelity
He is the one who’ll set us free.
Let’s raise our voices to thank him
To save us from a future dim
He offers us another choice
To help our people and rejoice.
We’ll hail this chief and pray for him
Because he takes it on the chin !
Oh tiny chick safe in the nest
Your mama knows what is the best
As she secures you all around
While perking up at each new sound
Then darting off to find a feast
To feed her brood before release,
Oh little bird how will you fare
When your mama’s no longer there ?
Isn’t it amazing we are living on the brink
With each and every moment of how we breathe and think
We’ve been taught to earn our keep in the old fashioned way
And we are growing better with what we do each day
The lesson we have learned is that God is always there
While He watches over us and does our burdens share !
There are no cares I wish to share
My thoughts this day seem quite threadbare
I’m feeling worn this early morn
A bit unsteady and forlorn
Perhaps today I need more sleep
I’ve obligations I must keep.
I know that I’ve too much to do
Sometimes I never think it through
I try so hard to give my best
And fear that I won’t pass the test
One can’t lose heart of that I’m sure
But with God’s help we’ll be secure !
The madness of this world we see
Leads us close to infinity
Could be that war is imminent
This is the thing we must prevent.
Let’s pray to find another way
Not black or white but shades of gray
There needs to be a middle road
Some method used to share the load.
It’s time for us to stand up tall
Accept the blame before the fall
Learn how to shoulder our fair share
Tis now to show how much we care !
What’s happened to this place that we so love
This precious land the world is jealous of
One nation under God for all to see
With the true blessings of our liberty.
From the north to south, from the east to west
From the mountains high to the valley’s crest
Over the fields and across the great plains
From the sun drenched sands to the coastal rains.
The need to feel free and be all you can
With a heart strong and a love of the land
A nation so great most dream to come here
Our red, white and blue, let’s stand up and cheer !
EXCUSE ME, is that your dog poop on my sidewalk ? Sound familiar ? Rumor has it that one of our more visible brownstoners arose early one morning recently, wearing cap and woolplaid mackinaw, bearing spade in hand with a determined grin, approached the stoop, ladling animal excreta on same. I guess that he experienced momentary satisfaction in the act, relieving pentup frustrations of the past week. However one performance does not a cure make. I recall my own first night, a cold and snowy holiday eve many years ago. Sometimes I think I’ve never lived anywhere else, so assimilated have I become. To continue, after a 30 year exile in suburbia, HOBOKEN was a culture shock. I had a dog, a large dog, oversized and overfed who required a walk ! I grabbed a robe, slipped on scuffs, proceeded down the stairway and out into the night, dog and all. Once outside I reflected on the foolishness of my action, good grief, it was 3AM and the local bars were emptying out, all it appeared on my block ! Tightly clutching one fleece robe, sloshing through the snow, I “toughed” it out walking that dog with my heart pounding madly all the while muttering to myself hoping the passersby would think “maybe she’s crazy. Finally returning to my doorway, dignity challenged but intact, vowing to teach him in the very near future to use paper ! There’s a real need to provide dog walking areas, they do that in European cities out of necessity. Perhaps someday here ! Excuse me, for the moment I have to buy the Times. Sincerely, Claire B. PS. This in memory of Leo Perez, a dear friend and owner of the mackinaw who left us so young.
EXCUSE ME, but where do I register to vote ? My first official act upon returning to HOBOKEN in the 70’s was to sign the voting register. From that day to this I don’t believe that I have missed even the most insignificant election, if such a thing exists ! I have come to the conclusion that in a democracy there is nothing of insignificance about our freedom of choice. When we originally migrated to Hoboken I was referred to as a “New Yorker”, my knowledge of New York somewhat limited to Macy’s, the Museum of Natural History, South Street Seaport and Balducci’s ! A friend commented to me the other day “You’re beginning to sound like old Hoboken”. At last, ACCEPTANCE ! The remark was prompted by my observation that I had not seen a familiar face in a popular eatery the whole evening, I’m not sure that I enjoyed the feeling ! However I concluded I’d been cocooning since the last election, unable to decipher what changes would mean to me. I was going to miss the Old Guard just when I was beginning to agree with them ! Having spent too many years in suburbia, I had come to expect politics to be a quasi-part-time occupation indulged in by retired CEOs to perk up leisuretime. How little I knew ! Today I was being replaced by new blood and differing concepts, time to go with the flow. I still haven’t quite accepted the fact that Pollyanna has moved on ! Who would believe one could achieve anonymity in a one mile square area where everyone still stoop-sits ? Progress, as media are crying, “loss of privacy”. Excuse me but I need to put my name on my doorbell ! Sincerely, Claire B.
In this world full of people I’m thinking perhaps
The intelligent move to avoid all the traps
And nestle away in some contented disguise
Might be the direction to foil any reprise.
I’m afraid we’re remiss in our casual ways
And are earning the harvest of our reckless days
It’s a cumbersome load that we carry too fast
T’would be better to learn from mistakes of the past.
My Nana was born June 2, 1891, at 34 Monroe, Hoboken of a Prussian mother and a Westphalian father, the 2nd daughter in a family of many sons. She began working at 6 alongside her 8 year old sister Olga in P. Lorillard factory on Henderson, hand rolling tobacco in cigarette papers. Little fingers worked quickly as they laughed, giggled, sang, chattered away mocking the adult supervision to lighten the intensity of the child labor conditions ! She had equivalent of 2nd grade education, spelled phonetically, pencilled pages of legible stories and wrote me a double-sided letter in pencil every week of my life until she died. Sadly, I never saved one yet I remember those stories as if it were yesterday ! She made my clothes, taught me my prayers, how to sew, play cards and hugged me a lot. My only sibling arrived when I was 9, it was she who several years later nicknamed me “Goody Two Shoes” which I suspect wasn’t all flattery, what do you think ? My parents were just kids themselves, I think we matured at the same rate and time like birds of a feather ( the follow up ) that flock together ! My dad used to say that I was born “all grown up”, perhaps !
Sincerely, Claire B.
In early 1943, the preplanning and superior amounts of arms and power of the enemy forces were taking the larger toll of the Allied resources and men. Civilians at home had to step up to increased responsibilities. Farmers left the cornfields to join the battlefields and I became one of the teens who chose to spend that summer working the land for room and board in the place of a father and son who went to serve their country in the USMC. Some experience, a dairy farm upstate New York raising hay, melons, milking cows by hand, fighting mange with sulphur and petroleum ( ugh ). Learning to ride a workhorse, clean stalls, raise chickens, collect eggs, bale hay, 1940’s style ! You know, cows got milked twice a day. Another “ugh” was artificial insemination ! I have always been a quick learner, thankfully. That summer without the beach, popcorn or the boardwalk, reminded me of the Girl Scout promise I had made to do my duty to God and my country, to help one another and to be prepared ! What wonderful values youngsters learned in the scouting movement, not what you can do for me, but as JFK said, “what I can do for my country”. Why have we forgotten so much, why does everything seem upside- down ? When did we get sidetracked by ME, ME, ME ? The age of Aquarius ? This morning I read Chapter 3 of 2nd Timothy and found one answer, do you think it’s the correct one ? Do you believe that America has lost her way ? I hope not.
Sincerely,
Claire B.
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Claire V. Bogdanos 