Monday, November 16, 2009

Growing hunger in America called "a catastrophe"


Hunger in America
A commentary by Mike Marcellino

"USDA: Number of Americans going hungry increases" the headline read.

Another neglected headline. That thought compelled me to bring attention to this story by Associated Press writer Henry M. Jackson.

WASHINGTON – More than one in seven American households struggled to put enough food on the table in 2008, the highest rate since the Agriculture Department began tracking food security levels in 1995.

That's about 49 million people, or 14.6 percent of U.S. households. The numbers are a significant increase from 2007, when 11.1 percent of U.S. households suffered from what USDA classifies as "food insecurity" — not having enough food for an active, healthy lifestyle.

Researchers blamed the increase in hunger on a lack of money and other resources.

Later in the article, an expert expresses his shock at the plight of too many of America's children.
"What should really shock us is that almost one in four children in our country lives on the brink of hunger," said David Beckmann, the President of Bread of the World, an advocacy organization.

How long are we going to neglect our children while waging wars in the Middle East when we can't even identify how we can win or what our objective is?  If we can't set a good example at home, how can we continue to try to shape the rest of the world in our image?

This is not just a government problem; this is a problem that all Americans should start solving.

In addition, three of four of 17 to 25 year olds do not meet standards for military service due to obesity, other health matters, drugs and alcohol problems, criminal records or the lack of high school diplomas.

We can't sit by and expect the government to do something about this; our government should have addressed this long ago.

Ask yourself - "What is our nation's future?"


When will we realize that in a democracy "we" are the government.  Looking for political scapegoats in red or blue alone won't do it.  It is time for Americans to start looking beyond themselves, be unselfish, roll up their sleeves and save their country.

The solutions to America's problems begin at home.


Link to the entire article:

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20091116/ap_on_bi_ge/us_hunger_report;_ylt=AmqNWHK3W9KbIFroCjEd5Les0NUE;_ylu=X3oDMTMyZzFtaDljBGFzc2V0A2FwLzIwMDkxMTE2L3VzX2h1bmdlcl9yZXBvcnQEY3BvcwM2BHBvcwMzBHB0A2hvbWVfY29rZQRzZWMDeW5faGVhZGxpbmVfbGlzdARzbGsDdXNkYW51bWJlcm9m


 Copyright Mike Marcellino 2009

Friday, November 13, 2009

The making of music

A band of brothers
by Mike Marcellino

Eight weeks ago, a writing and musical journey began when I again hooked up with an old Army buddy, Tomas Texino.  We served in the Vietnam War together.  Tomas makes a mandolin sing, plays guitar, writes fascinating and funny stories about bluegrass music and whatever else he feels like, like stuff about Rozz Savage rowing around the world and playin' a one-on-one game of basketball against his buddy Bill Monroe shootin' at a hoop that comes outa the trunk of Bill's Cadillac.

My friend played in a cool bluegrass band, "Salt Run," for many years out of St. Augustine, Florida. Never forget our time together as far up in he mountains in Virginia as you can get, for the Carter Family Memorial Concert years ago.

This September, I found Tomas once again after a 10 year absence and we began to see what we could do with some of the poetry songs I'd written.

Well, out came "Amelia Earhart, soft silver wings" about the fearless aviator, just in time for the release of "Amelia," starring Hilary Swank.  I didn't know about the film, but got a MySpace message from her cousin, saying she liked the piece and that she isn't biased and thinks Hilary will win another Academy Award.

Haven't seen "Amelia" yet.  Was waiting for my special invite to a private screening.  The film kinda got ripped up by most critics, but then that's why they call them critics.

Tomas played mandolin on the song, composed it, threw in a bass. Singer songwriter David Dowling was on his guitar for the recording at a house in St. Augustine.  We had dinner together; it was a beautiful night overlooking America's oldest city the Spanish settled in the 1600s.  That recording night was priceless.

Along the way I got back to my first love - surfing.  Body surfed nearly every day for five weeks.  Caught one four foot wave and shot right out the curl.

Then Tomas and I did another piece, "Las Cruces," about living on a tiny horse ranch in the desert hills in southeast New Mexico, near the border.  It brought me back to wandering the streets of Juarez, Mexico, just a few months after getting out of Vietnam and the Army.  I had served as a combat correspondent and photojournalist and met Tomas as he worked helping refugees build a new life and a new village.  They called it "civic action" back then.  I think we need a lot more "civic action" and a lot less killing in places like Afghanistan, Iraq and the streets and Army bases in America.

To record "Flatbush" with musician Randall Leddy I left the surf and  hopped a train to New York City.  Randall's father served in the Special Forces in the U.S. Army.   "Flatbush" is about a writer's view of life in the West Indian neighborhood in Brooklyn.  Special thanks goes to Randall's wife, Stacy Rock, a very talented, emerging singer songwriter.  Yes, that's her read name and she comes from a small  town in the middle of Montana.  Now she's making passionate, music in New York, mixing her classical background with pop,, rock  and folk.

On the way to Brooklyn, I had sort of a homecoming in Baltimore were I was "born and early raised" (a phrase from a song I wrote, "Full moon Baltimore" recorded by my first band, Split Pea/ce in Cleveland).  I performed a solo gig without music at the Baltimore Hostel for a poetry series, "Last Sunday, Last Rights," put on by Pat King, the go to guy for Outsider Writers, a writers' cooperative I've been a part of the past couple of years.  After all these years, I discovered the original "Washington Monument" isn't in DC but in Baltimore.

When I got back down to Florida, limping as my left calf kept freezing up, Tomas and I finished work on our band's fourth song, the hardest one to do - "The Walls of Fire."

In "The Walls of Fire" I traced the sacrifice and courage of American soldiers from the Civil War through World War II, Korea, Vietnam  Iraq and Afghanistan.  We started on it before my trip to New York City but it sounded just too sad.

Tomas figured that Irish tin whistles were just the sound to turn horror into a band of brothers tackling anything and everything thrown at them.  Mandolin and a drum are also in the piece.

Now, I'm wonderin' just what's going on.  In eight weeks, the Mike Marcellino Band has reached 64 among the Top Folk Artist in New York City on the ReverbNation charts.  Not sure what that means, except there are 400,000 bands on that music site and we also rose to 654 in the United States and 965 in the world.

We reached a milestone today, recording the 9000th play on our MySpace music site.

We appreciate people listening and reading the lyrics.

We released "The Walls of Fire" on Veterans Day.  It's an important piece to us, taking us back to 1968 when we served together in Vietnam.  Not sure how we survived; just lucky.  Many of our brothers in arms didn't.

Looking down the road, we hope to put out our first CD, play some paid gigs. No matter what happens with the band, I'll be getting a surf board by spring.

A national award winning newspaper reporter and congressional and mayor aide, I now have my sights set on being a rock star.  Trouble is my eyesight is fading.

We do appreciate people listening to our music and especially their comments.  We hope you'll continue, some day buy a CD or pay a few bucks to hear us play.

After the release of "The Walls of Fire" on Veterans Day I was surprised to get a comment on ReverbNation from a musician, Destination Dawn from Ocala, Florida.

Later I found that "DD" is the Top Alternative Artists in the world on ReverbNation with tens of thousands of fans.  She wrote this about our band -


("Flatbush") Cool spoken word!!!Great music and interesting revelations!!! 


("The Walls of Fire") has great background music and effects that befit the deep revealing words. You have an intriguing style. 


Wishing you all the best and much continued success with all your endeavors!!!
Much Love, 

DD



Hope DD doesn't mind that I included her last sentence.  Her comments are both very sweet and quite encouraging.  


Didn't ask her if she makes any money from her music though.


By the way, thanks to the modern techie miracles I finally figured out, you may listen to Mike Marcellino  right on the ReverbNation Widget on my Networked Blog, "The Point of the Whole Thing."  


Here I thought a "widget" had something to do with croquet.

Band of brothers, by Mike Marcellino, copyright 2009

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

“The Walls of Fire. What a powerful piece"






Search and destroy, South Vietnam, 1968, photo by Mike Marcellino copyright 2009 

"It's like listening to time as it passes over the dead and damaged of wars past and present. It's a voice for peace, no a cry for peace and for the carnage to end...This (The Walls of Fire) lovely and haunting piece of poetry should be a world wide sensation" – Paul Donohoe, writer/editor, Tasmania, Australia

The walls of fire

By Mike Marcellino

The walls of fire
grow higher, higher
pools of blood
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching
rock cliffs and open fields -
Hornet’s Nest at Shiloh
Devil’s Den, Gettysburg.


The walls of fire
grow higher, higher
pools of blood
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching
sea to shining sea -
lost in the Argonne Forest
face down on beaches at Normandy
frozen by the waters of Chosin Reservoir.


The walls of fire
grow higher, higher
pools of blood
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching
paddies, highlands -
Nui Ba Dinh, the Black Virgin Mountain
the Ashau Valley
along the perimeter of Khe Sanh.


The walls of fire
grow higher, higher
pools of blood, carnage
bodies of brothers
touching
empty deserts
filled with giant rising suns -
Fallujah rooftops
unknown streets of Sidr City
barren mountains, caves of Tora Bora.


The walls of fire
grow higher, still higher
pools of blood
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching. 

The walls of fire copyright by Mike Marcellino 2009

I wrote this song earlier this year, but it seems the moment to share it as I feel the loss of my US Army brothers and sisters and the police officer at the Fort Hood massacre. It is also the eve of Veterans Day and I remember my brothers in arms that did not return from Vietnam and those living with the wounds, physical and mental, from our nation's longest war. I only hope that our soldiers can return home soon. 
Our new folk band, Mike Marcellino with Ensor expects to release a recorded version of this piece tomorrow, Veterans Day on ReverbNation and MySpace.

Our new folk band members are Mike Marcellino songwriter, vocals and Texino, mandolin, production - two Army "brothers" who served in the Vietnam War together and lived to make music together many years later. Musician Randall Leddy from Brooklyn played bass guitar and did the production of "Flatbush."  
To listen to our first three (now five) songs, recorded this fall in Brooklyn NY and St. Augustine Florida, go to My Band on Facebook or to ReverbNation and be a fan, help get our band off the ground (or beach).
Mike Marcellino on ReverbNation

My Band on Facebook

Listen now to our debut songs - "Flatbush" (with Randall Leddy on bass guitar and production) "Las Cruces" and "Amelia Earhart, soft silver wings" (with David Dowling on guitar) 

A listener says we're "unique" and I take that as a compliment. Listen for yourself, if you like, message your friends. And, remember Veterans Day is 365 days a year because our troops protect us every day and many give their lives or pay the price every day.

Since this was written our band has also recorded and released "Bondi beach" a poetry music story of a Yank's flight from Vietnam to Australia and facing big waves in the third most shark infested surfing beach in the world.

Friday, November 6, 2009

The Fort Hood, Texas massacre



Horror at the home of Armor
By Mike Marcellino

They’re calling it the Fort Hood massacre.  It is the greatest mass killing on a U. S. military base in America’s history.  Fort Hood, Texas, about an hour north of Austin, is the home of the Army’s armor.  The morning after the massacre doctors, friends and families of the soldiers who were on their way back to the Middle East wars wonder if their wounded loves ones will survive, survive to fight again in a war with no end in sight. 

The morning after the Fort Hood massacre the roles of Americans suffering with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder lengthens after the mind of a Muslim American Army psychiatrist, blew up, allegedly putting his index finger on the trigger of a semi automatic handgun spraying bullets into his military brothers, some patients, leaving death and jagged injury in his wake.

It’s the morning after mayhem; also the day millions of New Yorkers bury their beloved Yankees with paper in another ticker tape parade to celebrate another World Series victory.  Oh, if we could only settle the world’s differences on a diamond field of dirt and grass with gloves, baseballs and bats.

The morning after the Fort Hood massacre, President Obama called the score at Fort Hood “horrific.”

At the end of an afternoon of a life and death game, the score read:

Nidal M. Hasan - 13 dead, 30 wounded 

America - 0

Witnesses heard the U. S. Army psychiatrist shout, “God is great” in Arabic, as he allegedly sprayed bullets into his fellow soldiers in a Fort Hood center getting ready to deploy to the wars in Afghanistan or Iraq from America’s biggest military base, the home of our armor. 

Americans left reeling, shattered, their protectors ripped apart.

After a hail of bullets, Hasan was stopped by well aimed shots from a female cop.

The first of the dead identified as 21 year old Army private first class from Bolingbrook, Illinois, outside of Chicago. And his mother’s tears flow just after 11 this morning in sorrow and grief defying description.

Our nation did score big on the field of unemployment, spikes to 10.2 percent today, the worst in a quarter century, but the CNN Money.com wire does tell us the number of Americans on the street without work.  They call it the “nation’s longest and deepest downturn since The Great Depression, coming to be known as “The Great Recession” least we scare ourselves thinking we’re in a depression.

All is well on Wall Street, however, as Even Newmark reports today in his “Mean Street” column in The Wall Street Journal:

“Now, you may recall that I’m pretty skeptical of any stock market predictions, including my own. But you may also recall that in July as the S&P500 index traded around 900, I predicted the index would close the year between 1150 and 1200.  And so far, we’re more than halfway there. The S&P 500 closed yesterday at 1066 — the year of the Battle of Hastings, for all you day-trading English history buffs.”

Oh, well, someone’s still making money.

It took a little Google digging but here it is, the actually number – “Over the past two years, the number of unemployed has jumped by 8.4 million to 15.7 million,” according to the “One Ugly Jobs Report” story in the Seeking Alpha a Internet site.

In the shooter’s brief biography, The Washington Post reported Major Hasan“attended the Muslim Community Center in Silver Spring and is devout, according to Faizul Khan, former imam at the center. He attended prayers at least once a day, seven days a week, often in his Army fatigues, Khan said.

The Army psychiatrist treated soldiers suffering from what experts discovered once again, with great pain, from the invisible wounds of war, creating identification, “Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.” 

Nearly a century and a half ago, when in America brothers fought and killed brothers, Union and Confederates were said to have “a soldiers’ heart,” much kinder words then than being called a coward, a stain that to this day remains. 

As proof, I found an article on the Civil War Forum Internet site dated, June 16, 2009, oddly I found the day of the birth of this U. S. Army Vietnam War veteran.

In a discussion of the history of PTSD, a reporter asked Secretary of Defense Robert Gates whether the military would consider awarding combat soldiers mentally wounded. 

And yesterday, today and for some time, thousand of American civilians will pick up a bit of delayed stress from being glued on their TVs, laptops, I Phones and PCs watching the aftermath of the massacre at Fort Hood.

Then CNN broke into their news with a live address by President Obama, our Commander in Chief.  After a moment of reflection about the Army armor massacre at Fort Hood, what he called one of the worst mass killings in the history of America’s military, the President went on to talk about the sick state of the economy, and expanding unemployment rates and home mortgage benefits.

It’s nearly noon now, the day after the Army armor massacre, but already it appears America’s back to business as usual after a deadly interlude the President called “horrific.”

Early news reports today say the devout Muslim major didn’t want to go to Iraq to fight his forefathers. 

“Well Hasan, all I can say now is you aren’t alone. 

I know a lot of soldiers that don’t want to go leave their jobs, families, loved ones, either.  Go off again and again to war, maybe die or return home maimed.

I do know those who survive will never be the same. 

And I ask myself, ‘Where is the end of this gruesome, chaotic game?’”

And, as I tire of writing this depressing story, I wonder whether after one o’clock this morning I heard a report on CNN that Hasan is the son of Palestinians who fled war in their homeland to live peacefully in Jordan

I do find it interesting that the American born alleged mass killer grew up in Arlington, Virginia in the shadow of our nation’s national cemetery -

And in my mind I could see seas of white crosses on those rolling green slopes, a fusion of beauty and sadness, to mark the final resting place of our brave soldiers.  Just after noon now, after red Thursday, I remember my brothers, those living and dead from another war. 


Horror at the home of Armor by Mike Marcellino copyright 2009

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Lyrics to new song, "Las Cruces" by folk band Mike Marcellino with Ensor


Las Cruces:  a new poetry song


New York City folk band Mike Marcellino with Ensor released their second song today, "Las Cruces." Mike wrote the song and handles the vocal, Texino did the production. The song follows the band's recording, "Amelia Earhart, soft silver wings."

You can listen on ReverbNation. Recorded in St. Augustine, FL. If you like, sign up and be a fan, it's all free.



Las Cruces
by Mike Marcellino

been down ta Las Cruces
one time, 
down ta  
sundown wine
color slide pictures 
of mists rising from 
the dusty brown 
tumbleweed town.

been down ta Las Cruces 
down ta the circle 
of six can't stand up inside 
trailers 
beside the coral 
sleeping in the afternoon.

been down ta Las Cruces 
down ta walking  
desert brush hills 
with mountain lions 
and pretty fast rabbits.

been down ta Las Cruces 
waiting for spring 
down ta 
Sunland Park 
quarter horses 
getting lost in 
Juarez,
lost in Juarez.

been down ta Las Cruces 
down ta 
inside 
my worn, 
torn 
second field forces 
jacket 
sittin' in 
the backyard 
sun beatin' down 
makin' me feel 
warm again.
been down ta Las Cruces 
one time.

Copyright Mike Marcellino, 2007


Wednesday, October 21, 2009

Amelia Earhart

Clip of Hilary Swank, starring in "Amelia" opening tomorrow

Amelia Earhart, soft silver wings
By Mike Marcellino

Amelia Earhart,
Love your picture
in flight.
love your goggles,
love your lips. 

Love how you circled the world,
single handed.
Amelia
amelia
amelia

Like that leather
air cap.
You’re a goddess, a woman
soft white,
ahead of your time,
such afterglow
night
in shinning armor.

Meet me on a northern coast,
not far from the equator,
above the island
where they made King Kong.

You’re Atlantis, risen
in my South China Sea.
Amelia
amelia
amelia

Oh, your last flight
Oh, your last flight,
what a night

Looking at your picture
in my book,
soft silver
soft silver
wings.

Your lips, painted colors
light, pretty pink.
Those eyes,
imagine,
sigh.
Your nails, natural,
fingertips.
taking you with me.

Amelia
amelia
amelia,
soft silver
soft silver
wings.

Your words,

Courage

Courage is the price that Life extracts for granting peace.
The soul that knows it not, knows no release.
From little things.
Knows not the livid loneliness of fear.
Not mountain heights where bitter joy can hear
The sound of wings.

How can life grant us boon of living, compensate
For dull grey ugliness and pregnant hate
Unless we dare
The soul’s dominion? Each time we make a choice, we pay
With courage to behold the restless day,
And count it fair. - Amelia Earhart, 1927

You made the crossing
not alone.
Meet you over the Atlantic.
Amelia
amelia
amelia,
Soft silver,
soft silver wings.

Copyright 2009 by Mike Marcellino, “Amelia Earhart, soft silver wings”

Sunday, October 18, 2009

The Post Surf Report



Rainbow, St. Augustine Beach, Florida  
photo by mike marcellino copyright 2009

Post Surf Report: St. Augustine Beach

By Mike Marcellino

Digging into the Internet to find data on shark attacks in the waters off the coast of St. Augustine, Florida probably wasn’t the writer’s best idea.

Sharks attacks are six times more likely off the northeast coast of Florida than in Hawaiian waters.  About an hour south of St. Augustine, lies New Smyrna Beach, known as “the shark attack capital of the world.”  “Great tourist line,” he thought.

It had been a dozen years since the writer had surfed northern Florida. At least he body surfed a few weeks before starting to research shark attack data for his new surfing blog -The Post-Surf Report. The writer chose the title of his new surfing series appearing in his Networked Blog, “The Point of the Whole Thing,” because it reminds him of cereal and The Washington Post

After his absence for his first love, surfing, the writer body surfed nearly every day since he arrived in St. Augustine Beach in mid September.  No hurricanes, a real draught.  Too bad, hurricanes bring bigger waves to northern Florida, but not this year. 

On his first day out, the writer was relaxing, treading, floating on his back in waters over his head when he heard,

“A shark hit by board.” the surfer said, passing by.  The waters were dark blue to black and murky.  The young surfer’s comment was dumb but unsettling.  “Why bother to tell me that?” the writer thought.  The waves were ragged, breaking fast, but he caught them whenever he wanted, some three feet high.

“He was as big as me,” he added.

The writer looked at the guy, without expression or a word. 

In the water, he thought about sharks, sometimes, not often. Once, a shadow freaked him out, but he realized it was his own, visible when the sun flickered.  Near record heat in Florida into the middle of October until a cold front finally came through.  He didn’t think much about sharks onshore. 

He told another surfer as he swam further south about the shark comment.  “He probably wanted to get you out of the water,” the surfer said, casually.  He added, “There are sharks out here all the time, especially when the mullets are running.”  The mullets come into the Atlantic from the Matanzas River south of Crescent Beach, just below St. Augustine. “Matanzas” is a Spanish word meaning “massacre.”

“How comforting,” the writer muttered to himself.

“Less talk about sharks, the better,” thought. 

Surfers, or swimmers, are more likely to die from a bee sting, or get struck by lightening, than get bit by a shark. 

That’s true in St. Augustine Beach, or any beach in Florida.  Surfers are the object of 57% of shark attacks.  Da, surfers are in the water much longer than swimmers and in deeper water there’s more room for the bigger sharks.

According International Shark Attack File at the Florida Museum of Natural History, these species of sharks most often attacked people in Florida waters from 1944 to 2008: Bull, Spinner, Blacktip, Hammerhead, Nurse, Tiger, Lemon, Sandbar, Blue and Mako

The writer started getting rather fascinated by sharks while writing his first surfing Internet column.  Searching, he discovered The ReefQuest Center for Shark Research maintained by Alex Buttigieg of Malta

Here’s the opening message on Alex’s website, Sharkman’s World Organization to Save and Protect Sharks:

For hundreds of years, Mankind has feared this creature. We have been brainwashed with visions of Shark Attacks, from stories and legends passed down from one generation to the next, from paintings, books, news papers, cinemas, etc... But what are the real facts? Are Sharks truly monsters of the deep? Are they all Man-eaters? What makes them so misunderstood?  Should sharks be protected?

These questions and many others will be solved in these pages. Together we shall take a look and find out the facts. So if you are interested, and want to learn more............. Keep an Eye on this page, I guarantee you will not regret it.

You enter his site by clicking on the skeleton of a shark with his mouth wide open (reminiscent of “Jaws,” which the writer never tires of watching.)  Alex’s site won an award for the best personal website in Malta.  The writer wonders just how many people live in Malta (403,532) and how many Maltese have websites (a few are written in the Maltese language).

In the world, Sharkman’s World Website www.sharkmans-world.com is the No. 530,810 most popular Website in the world, while www.staugustine.com is No. 81,834.  Putting this in some perspective the Website of the New York Times is No. 202. 

The writer found that MySpace is nearly three times more popular than Facebook, according to his unidentified website source.

The writer couldn’t resist by adding that the Vatican (Holy Sea, sorry, a surfer’s slip, make that See) only has 11 most popular sites, all the sites are inside the Vatican. Faith really reaches out.  Here’s No. 1 in the Holy See - www.vatican.va

The most popular site in Vietnam reveals times really are changing.  The most popular Internet site today in Vietnam, site of America’s longest war, is all about hotels - www.vietnamhotel-link.com.vn .    

Back to surfing.

In the water, surfers talk little, about sharks or anything, except a bit with their friends, but not much them either.  Surfers are doers, not talkers.  Surfers live in a world of their own, one that’s as hard to describe as feeling a surfer gets shooting in the curl of a big, well formed wave in glassy water.

The writer did meet one surfer, Cameron, and the two talked while waiting for a wave worth riding.  Cameron’s from Louisiana.  The writer found out he works as a deep sea diver repairing oil rigs in the Gulf of Mexico.  A good photo feature story some day, the writer thought.

A few girls surf St. Augustine Beach and they’re pretty good too.  They are even more laid back than the guys.  Their bodies seem to melt on their boards.  So far the writer’s spotted a few good surfers – one wearing a light blue suit, another in a dark blue suit and another with long bleach blonde hair. 

Surfers do acknowledge either other on St. Augustine Beach.  Walking the quarter mile back to where he got into the water, the writer passes surfers, boards under arm.  Usually, they give a knowing glance, a nod, maybe a word or two, like “hey.” Nothing profound.  Sometimes surfer boys, or skateboarders, about the same age as the writer when he started body surfing in California, say hi to the writer as he peddles his borrowed three speed girls’ bike along A1A, the highway hugging the shoreline along St. Augustine Beach.

Before the cold front dropped temperatures from near 90 to the 60s, the writer caught his best wave.

His timing was just right. The surfer’s arms stretched, cut through the wall of the wave, body straight.  He was in the right place at the right time, inside the wave, already covering him.  He felt himself shoot, fast, right out of the front of the wave.  He sailed outside the wave.  He flew in air, inside the mouth of the wave. 

The writer didn’t think about sharks that day.  In the late afternoon, unexpectedly the ocean had flattened, the waves took better form, rising and falling more gradually without much white water.  The wave could have been four feet or more.  He can’t categorize or define the feeling he got on that wave.  Other than looking out not to get run over by a surfboard, the writer find himself along body surfing in the ocean. 

How does surfing make the writer feel?

If everything goes right, it’s like shooting down a small mountain of water.  You’re part of the wave, you’re faster than the wave, then you free of the wave,” he says.

Nature gives signals on the beach, like reflections of distant thunder clouds – all shades of blue, white grey - illuminated by setting suns in flat sand pools onshore. (That signal led him to write a poem song, “Spirits of St. Augustine.”)

Nature sent another signal the day before the writer shot out of the curl in a four foot wave.  After light, warm showers on and off most of the day, in late afternoon the clouds broke, scattered and the writer biked to the A Street inlet. 

On the beach, the writer was startled.  He looked north and saw distant giant rainbow circling the horizon from Jacksonville to some unknown spot in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

As a 7-year-old, Mike Marcellino lived two blocks from the ocean in Long Beach, California.  For four years, he body surfed every day except in winter. He never wore a wet suit. 

In 1968, Mike board surfed off Bondi Beach, Australia. He was on R & R (rest and recuperation) from the Vietnam War, where he served in the U.S. Army as a combat correspondent and photojournalist.  He wrote a poetry song about surviving those eight days near Sidney and recorded the piece, “Bondi beach.”  You may listen to the song at www.myspace.com/splitpeace.  In his research, Mike discovered Bondi Beach is the third most shark infested waters in the world. 

Mike board surfed off St. Augustine Beach in the 1980s and 1990s.  Away from the ocean for 12 years, he returned in the later summer of 2009 and began body surfing off Florida’s northeast coast.  He loves surfing and looks forward to getting a used board, a long board.  Contact Mike by email at hangten1066@yahoo.com


The photo above is a Blacktip Reef Shark, Pacific cousin to the Blacktip Shark found in waters off the Florida coast.  The Blacktip can be six feet long and is responsible for 28 unprovoked shark attacks against humans.  They are responsible for 16% of the attacks that occur in Florida water, often striking surfers.

The Post Surf Report, copyright by Mike Marcellino 2009

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Orwell's truth: 'a revolutionary act'

After the fall
By Mike Marcellino

In a time of universal deceit –
telling the truth is a revolutionary act.
- George Orwell
                                                         
Stolen quotes
stolen hours.
Together,
day and night
frozen by time
after the fall.

A knight cold
in amour,
drinking
Irish whiskey
riding after
a girl of twenty
away
in a vegan powered bus to Omaha.

Stolen quotes
stolen hours
together,
day and night
frozen by time
after the fall.

Anarchists hidden
in castles of fog,
on grey naked fields
of Midi-Pyrénées
and the Counts of Toulouse
after the fall.

After the fall, Copyright 2008 by Mike Marcellino



A soldier's song


The walls of fire
By Mike Marcellino

The walls of fire
grow higher
higher,
pools of blood
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching -
rock cliffs and open fields,
Hornet’s Nest at Shiloh,
Devil’s Den, Gettysburg.

The walls of fire
grow higher
higher,
pools of blood
carnage,
bodies of brothers
touching -
sea to shining sea
lost in the Argonne forest
face down on beaches at Normandy,
frozen by the waters
of Chosin Reservoir.

The walls of fire
grow higher
higher,
pools of blood
carnage,
bodies of brothers
touching -
paddies, highlands
Nui Ba Dinh, the Black Virgin Mountain
Ashau Valley,
along the perimeter of Khe Sanh.

The walls of fire
grow higher,
higher
pools of blood,
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching -
empty deserts
filled with giant rising suns,
Fallujah rooftops,
unknown streets of Sadr City
barren mountains,
caves of Tora Bora.

The walls of fire
grow higher
higher
pools of blood,
carnage
bodies of brothers
touching.


The walls of fire copyright by Mike Marcellino 2009

Friday, October 9, 2009

Encore for President Obama


"Search and destroy
photo by Mike Marcellino
South Vietnam, 1968
copyright 1995

Time for Department of Peace
By Mike Marcellino

Challenges Facing Americans
La partie trois

Tell me, why is it that President Obama, winner of the Nobel Prize for Peace, sounds more like a hawk than a dove.

Here is a quote from an AP story about the President’s reaction to winning the prize:

”…Obama acknowledged that, while accepting an award for peace, he was commander in chief of a country engaged in wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.  "We have to confront the world as we know it," he said.  He said he was working to end the war in Iraq and "to confront a ruthless adversary that directly threatens the American people and our allies" in Afghanistan.

I will admit, Mr. President, that you got that right, in that, our enemy, and I image you are talking about the Taliban, is ruthless, harsh and totally nasty in war (and they way in which they treat Afghans, especially females) who in their belief (no matter how misguided) get out of line. 

But, Mr. President, ask any soldier, friend or foe, what war is.  “War is hell,” the soldier will reply. 

I asked you to recall what soldiers have said about war, soldiers like Union General William Tecumseh Sherman in our Civil War.  To Southerners, Confederates if you will, brothers, soldiers and civilians alike, knew General Sherman for what he was – ruthless in war.  He was know for his “scorched earth” policy in burning Atlanta to the ground and then marching his army using a calculated scorched earth tactic leaving not a blade of grass or stalk of wheat standing, marching from Atlanta to the sea – Savannah, Georgia.  And, President Lincoln didn’t object to the general’s ruthless tactics waged against an already defeated enemy, in this case their fellow countrymen, and many literally brothers.  Here’s what General Sherman said about war:

“I am tired and sick of war. Its glory is all moonshine. It is only those who have neither fired a shot nor heard the shrieks and groans of the wounded who cry aloud for blood, for vengeance, for desolation. War is hell.”- William Tecumseh Sherman

As a United States Army veteran of the Vietnam War an since, I don’t know of a single combat veteran who does not respect the enemy, at least if the enemy was a good soldier, meaning and effective one, willing to kill or be killed.  In battle, soldiers don’t fight for a cause; they fight for their fellow soldiers, the fight to survive and to get the battle over with. 

I wonder, Mr. President, if you recall the scene in Apocalypse Now, the brilliant, dark, frightening soliloquy of Colonel Kurtz, an American Special Forces soldier, a hero, gone driven insane by the hell of war.  He spoke of the ruthlessness of the enemy, cutting off the arms of children after they had been inoculated by United States Army doctors.  If you haven’t seen Frances Ford Copula’s brilliant film, or don’t recall it, I suggest you watch it and ask your staffers to watch it too.  Many, perhaps most Americans find Apocalypse Now exaggerated.  Even I did for a while, but not after some reflection and talks with many veterans of fighting in Vietnam, as well as World War II, Korea, the Gulf wars, Iraq and Afghanistan.  I wrote about those wars as a newspaper reporter for more than a decade and learned even more working in veteran and military affairs for a congressman and mayor.  But I really learned that war is hell by being in Vietnam and talking with my fellow combat veteran friends over the years.  The men and women I talked with are all over the waterfront in politics, backgrounds and opinions, but they all agree that war is hell.

With that introduction, Mr. President, here is my second column about the war in Afghanistan:

Okie, dokie.  When I opened my soundless HP laptop this morning I was dumbfounded to discover President Obama had won the Nobel Prize for Peace.

Here's my take: The President talked the peace game during the campaign. Now he talks peace one day and war the next and gives serious consideration of escalating the war in Afghanistan. But, hand it to the Nobel Prize guys (hopefully girls too), they decided to give the American president a big nudge - the Nobel Prize for Peace, before he actually did anything in that regard. The reason - Their next chance to give him the prize is three years away, right in the heat of his campaign for reelection (Republicans and conservatives let alone right wing radicals are already tearing into him, i.e. some people putting out color posters with President Obama's picture with a Hitler-like mustache and another with the President hanging out with the Nazi dictator, mass murderer, and his henchmen). Well, all I can say is good luck President Obama, good luck Nobel Prize committee, good luck America, good luck Afghanistan, good luck Iraq, world, etc. Guess we just have to hold onto our tickets (aka, citizenships) and wait and see.

Okie dokie. My suggestion in the meantime to our President is” to ask one of your foreign policy advisors to read my commentary below then read or reread Fire in the Lake by Francis Fitzgerald about the fallacy and futility of the Vietnam War.  Many good books have been written about the Vietnam War but Fire in the Lake is the most insightful and documented in history. 

Fallicy in the Urban Dictionary, oddly, came up with the heading "Evangelical" and reference to the "American religion" tracing its origin to 33 AD. I'll give you the first fallicy listed: 1.the subjectivist fallicy: "I have faith" (translation: it's true because I believe it is).

In her book, Ms. Fitzgerald exposed how little we understood about Vietnam and the Vietnamese.  Yet we made up an excuse, The Gulf of Tonkin incident, and plowed ahead, ignoring history and opportunities to talk with our “enemy.”  We labeled it a war to stop communism, “the domino theory” in which Asian nations and others would one by one fall to communism.  How did we know that would happen?  The notion was just a political invention for an excuse to go to war in Southeast Asia.  In reality it was a war for power and control of resources. 

Even President Eisenhower in his farewell address warned us of the growing threat to the American democracy from within by the military industrial complex.  I would add political to his description of this “complex.”

“We must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex.” – Dwight David Eisenhower

But, while I am at it, here are two more quotes timely and important comments of President Eisenhower, America’s commanding general in World War II who led our nation and its allies in defeating Hitler and the Nazis, the Axis – the ruthless dictatorships of Germany, Japan and their allies.

“We will bankrupt ourselves in the vain search for absolute security. 

When people speak to you about a preventive war, you tell them to go and fight it. After my experience, I have come to hate war.”

Both quotes speak for themselves.  Too bad former President George Bush, the most recent, didn’t read the latter Eisenhower quote before staring the wars in the Middle East.  I wonder if he ever saw another brilliant film, Lawrence of Arabia. Actually, Mr. President that film should also be required viewing.  The first quote is, gee, just profound.  It also reminds me of worrying ourselves to death. 

But, do not get me wrong, Mr. President.  In no way am I suggesting that we just throw down our guns and go home.   Now that we have fueled the flames of war and created a good deal of chaos, we can’t just stop on a dime, not even Mercury. 

Mr. President, I have an idea, a way for you to follow up on winning the Nobel Prize for Peace.  Why don’t you create a Department of Peace?  Give it as much power and status as waging war and military solutions to the world’s problems.  In that new department, make sure you set up an agency for civic action. 

The only good thing I ever witnessed in the Vietnam War, besides the incredible courage and sacrifice of our troops, was the thankless and unheralded civic action work done by soldiers and civilians caring for the wounds of victims, many children, and helping Vietnamese build refugee towns as a place to live after both sides did a great job of destroying their homes and villages.  And today, sadly we’re doing pretty much the same thing more than three decades after the end of America’s longest war in Vietnam.

Finally, Mr. President, once all the hoopla of the Nobel Prize for Peace subsides, ask Congressman Dennis Kucinich about how to go about setting up the Department of Peace.  After all it is his idea.  Maybe Dennis should have won the Nobel Prize for Peace.   He also ran for president, but he didn’t win that either.


Mike Marcellino, a two-time national award winning newspaper reporter is now a freelance journalist, poet and performance artist with the band, Ensor in St. Augustine, Florida and New York City


Encore for President Obama, copyright by Mike Marcellino 2009