Category: Uncategorized
Alone in the BVI on the Livin’ Wright
So, here I am on this massive 46 foot sail boat, by myself, at Nanny Cay on Tortola. For reasons I can’t explain, I arrived about 4 hours ahead of the rest of the crew. I had an extended shuttle ride to the marina because “some tourist” barreled down the wrong (U.S.) side of the road and crashed into a local’s car. The shuttle driver noted the injustice in the fact that the tourist walked away unharmed, but the local was apparently injured. But it created utter gridlock in Road Town, the largest “city” in the BVI.
I got a taste of the lifestyle when the shuttle driver saw an attractive, well-dressed young woman holding an umbrella and seemingly waiting for a bus. He stopped the van and invited her in for a ride, which she readily accepted. As she got in, he said, “I only stopped because you’re so pretty.” She seemed mildly flattered.
After he dropped her off, he shared with me his deep affection fo this particular woman and that he has repeated asked her for a date. She said that he was too old. But he was encouraged by the fact that she accepted the ride.
He dropped me off at the marina where I was directed to the boat and invited to hop aboard and get ensconced. No identification, no paperwork. Just jump aboard.
So, for the last 3 hours, I have been stowing our ample provisions and getting acquainted with the boat. It is bigger than I expected. The good news is that the accommodations are luxurious. The bad news is that it’s going to be a bear to sail this beast.
I think everything seems to be working. If you are reading this post, it means I’ve figured out the wifi. I’ve concluded that my biggest challenge is going to be husbanding electrical power for my multiple gadgets.
My crew has checked in by text message and is due to arrive soon and the adventure will begin.
Heading to BVI
I’m sitting at Dulles about to board a flight to the British Virgin Islands. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever done. It’s the kind of thing you put on your “bucket list,” except that I didn’t have the imagination to put it there. I’m meeting three other guys and we’re going to sail a 46 foot sail boat around the islands.
I have my captain, Jean Gaetjens, for taking the initiative on this. It’s going to be quite an adventure.
While we’re giving up some creature comforts, we will have wifi on the boat. I’m going to try to blog off my IPad so watch this space. And if I go quiet for a couple of days, call the Coast Guard.
Stay tuned.
— Post From My IPad
Location:Compass Ct,Sterling,United States
Grim
Our flight from Dublin to London was canceled causing us to miss our flight from London to Washington. I had used precious upgrade certificates for that flight, so we would have been traveling business class. Because the Dublin flight was not booked with the London flight, United takes no responsibility for missing the flight, meaning I will likely have to pay a substantial amount of money to change the flight and we will be put back in coach.
I am deeply depressed and not in the mood for further blogging about this trip. I hope the Muse comes back so I can describe our extraordinary visits to Belfast, Derry and, most especially, Rathlin Island.
For now, just can’t.
Visiting London
Starting my second on a family vacation to London and Ireland. Cold and overcast, but excited about the day. Heading down to Sunday morning service at St. Martin in the Fields.
— Post From My iPad
ACORN Redux
The right wing never sleeps and is relentless in its non-stop battle against the poor. Even in the Catholic Church, an institution inspired by Jesus for whom the poor and marginalized were his paramount concern, has internal critics who attack programs for the poor. Contrary to Jesus’ explicit teaching, they would sacrifice the needs of the poor in order to protect against supposedly violations of Church doctrine on homosexuality, on which subject Jesus said exactly nothing.
Here’s a piece in the HuffPost about attacks on a program for the poor being conducted by the Catholic Bishops conference.
The hypocrisy is apparent in this quote by the leader of the mob trying to end the program.
Deal Hudson, who directs the conservative website Inside Catholic, said the CCHD’s reforms might eliminate funding errors if they are doggedly implemented, but said a more systemic problem remains.
“The groups they are dealing with, community organizing groups, are 100 percent committed members of the political left. That’s just a fact,” said Hudson, a former adviser to the Republican National Committee and former President George W. Bush.
Hudson strongly denied that politics play any role in his concern about CCHD, but said leftist groups nearly always conflict with Catholic doctrine on issues like gay rights and abortion.— Post From My iPhone
Return to Rathlin
Rathlin Island lives in myth within my family, which is why the events of this morning were so magical.
Somewhere between his birth in 1811 and his death in South Boston on October 28th, 1880, Archibald Black left Rathlin for America. He was my great great grandfather. Thanks to a pilgrimage by my Granduncle, Brother Jason C.S.X., and my Uncle Eddie Black in the late sixties that traced my family history back to the island, we’ve learned quite a bit about the place. It’s enshrined in their classic report called The Blacks of Ballygill.
You can see Rathin’s boomerang shape in the map above, off the north coast of Ireland. That’s Scotland to the right.
In addition to being the point of origin for the Black family, Rathlin Island was the scene of some other significant historical events. It has been populated since 2500 BC, when it had a thriving export trade in stone axes, presumably for use in ways other than chopping down trees. In 200 BC, the King of Norway tried to kidnap Princess Taise of Rathlin. It’s first Viking raid occurred in 795 AD. The famed Robert the Bruce took refuge in Rathlin in 1305. A number of massacres occurred in the 1500’s, perpetrated by the Scottish Campbell Clan. In 1617, Sir Randal McDonnell won a lawsuit that established Rathlin as Irish and not Scottish, after which the massacres resumed. Modernity visited Rathlin when Marconi himself established a radio link to Rathlin in 1898. The year 1955 saw the first car on Rathlin and there are precious few to this day.
But all of that pales against the place it holds in my family. Because it is so remote, hardly on the typical Irish tourist itinerary, nobody has been there since Brother Jason’s visit. It’s like Atlantis. We’re not even sure it really exists. Even Google Maps hardly takes note. As you zoom in, it shows up much blurrier that the surrounding geography.
Which brings me to this morning. My son, Danny, is in Ireland for a semester abroad. Last I’d heard, he was in Belfast. We were texting each other this morning on routine matters and he asked that I call him. We talked about his travels and the places he’s been. Then the following exchange took place:
Me: So, where are you right now?
Danny: I’m on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic or some big body of water.
Me: That sounds nice.
Danny: It’s really beautiful. Went swimming this morning. It was bitter cold. Also, I can see Scotland from here.
Me: Really? What town are you in?
Danny: Ballycastle.
Me: Hmm. If you’re looking over to Scotland, you must be near Rathlin Island, our ancestral home. Is there an island in sight?
Danny: Yes, there’s a small island to the left.
Me: Oh my God! That must be Rathlin!
A quick check of Google Maps supported the fact that Danny was looking at Rathlin. A text came a bit later in which he confirmed it, having asked a local.
I have to say I was almost moved to tears. It was like the family coming full circle, from Archibald to Danny. It was bittersweet, however, in that the people I most wanted to share this moment with, my father and mother, are both gone, my mother only a little more than a year ago. So, instead, I get to share it with the whole world, or at least that infinitesimal part of the world that reads this blog. I did call my sister and she understood the magnitude of the moment.
 |
| The southern tip of Rathlin looking towards Ireland |
The rest of our immediate family is booked to visit Danny over Thanksgiving week. Our key destination is now established.
On to Rathlin!
This Land is Your Land
Last night we had our annual block party on my street in Northwest Washington DC. We’ve been on this street for about 16 years now and it has a unique international character. We’re kind of a ghetto for international finance organizations like the World Bank and the IMF. So, the food is always great, drawing from a variety of culinary traditions. There are also a multiplicity of foreign accents. I’d guess that about half the people at the block party were born in a foreign country. I met people from Germany, Denmark, Italy, Great Britain and one or two African countries.
The party goes on pretty late, but I generally bail out about 7:30 or 8:00 pm. But, I experienced a quintessentially American moment when, later in the evening as I was walking my dog, I could hear the sing along at the party just up the street. This group of foreign visitors to the U.S. was belting out Woody Guthrie’s iconic tune, “This Land is Your Land…”
Only in America.
— Post From My iPad
Classic Sports Commercial
I still love it. Check it out. It even has some value in terms of nostalgia. All those old Celtics and Lakers.
U.S. Wins World Cup Game 1-1!
I’m not a passionate soccer fan, but I attended a party to watch a soccer game that I won’t soon forget. Like millions of other Americans, I watched the U.S. team beat the odds and tie the UK in the first round of the World Cup. Unlike those millions of other Americans, however, I was fortunate enough to watch the game with the family of the undisputed hero of the previous time these two teams met….in 1950. In that game, the U.S. team beat the odds, as well. But those odds were astronomical and the U.S. actually won. It was and remains the biggest upset in World Cup history. And the winning goal in that 1-0 game was scored by Joe Gaetjens, a Haitian immigrant who was working his way toward an accounting degree at Columbia University by washing dishes. His achievement, which rocked the soccer world, was virtually ignored in the country on whose behalf he performed his heroic feat…..until recently.
The great tragedy of Joe Gaetjens was not that he was ignored by the country for which he played. It was vastly greater than that. Watch the video below to understand the full story. In fact, Joe Gaetjens was idolized by the people of Haiti and was recognized for his achievement by the people of Haiti. However, while he was very non-political, his brothers were active among those opposed to the ruthless, vicious and corrupt dictator, Papa Doc Duvalier. As a result of the political activities of his family, he was killed. Watch the video below for the full story:
OK, now wipe away the tears and let’s move to a happier story.Today, the Gaetjens family gathered to watch the first game played by the U.S. and the U.K. in the World Cup since that game in 1950. It was a festive occasion, hosted by my friend, Jean Gaetjens, who is Joe Gaetjens nephew. Also attending was Leslie Gaetjens, Joe’s son, who is featured in the video above. Leslie is a teacher in the DC public schools and coaches multiple sports, ironically not including soccer. He’s a very mild-mannered, articulate man who, while bearing some scars from the loss of his father, is clearly gratified by the belated recognition his father is gaining 60 years later. For me, it was deeply moving to be with the Gaetjens on this special day.
And while Joe died too young and in an egregiously unjust way, one can imagine him and the brother who joined him recently enjoying the show together.
To the right is a picture of me and Leslie wearing our commemorative t-shirts.
