now browsing by category
Hello Rand Paul… my name is Alex Bevan… you don’t know me… but I see what you have done…and are doing… I wish you lived next door to me… there’s a lot I would like to say to you… not in public though…. no… certainly not in public… trust me… i would not call you a piece of shit or threaten you… but… I would talk to you about the trail of political dreck you have left… certainly for your own gain.. maybe a little for your party… but not for us… the Americans who pay for your fucking mis-steps with our taxes, diminished freedoms and injured trust in the our system of government…. yeah… I wish I lived next door to you…. ….. ….
I am so proud and excited to be introducing you to a new podcaster who will begin with us in January 2020. Her name is Sherry Amatenstein, LCSW, who is an NYC-based psychotherapist and author. Sherry will be creating SHERAPY, and you can read all about this right here on the website.
In keeping with the theme of awareness and finding the path to travel or detour in life, this nationally known psychotherapist will be sharing your stories with our listeners. Sometimes it is easier to be anonymous (faceless, nameless) when you begin to open up. I agree with Sherry; we must not be afraid of what we think our frailties are; instead, we must strengthen our inner selves to love life to the fullest.
If you have a story or want to share issues, please contact us here at newclevelandradio.net, and your information will be sent on to Sherry Amatenstein. You need not reveal any information to us other than a name and email so Sherry may connect with you.
2020 is going to be a big year for all of us at newclevelandradio.net, and you don’t need to be in Cleveland, Ohio, to become part of the big picture, your PORTRAIT!
There is so much I wanna say right now, but I’ll keep it short & sweet:
Do your life, do it up, do it big, do it fucking epic; do it with everything you fucking have – everything – it’s your life: love it, cherish it, treasure it, hold it dear and hold it tight, do not let it go.
Make art, create beauty, be messy – messy is so sexy.
Hold another human up, champion another human, support another human, ignite hope in another human; and do not give up on your dreams. Do not. Keep going.
None of us are gonna let you fall.
Have a grand day, people, live & wear your life to the nines.
You will soon get to know Amy Ferris if you don’t know her yet. I am her Goddess Sister, and she is Mine! She posted this on Facebook today and it is a reminder that life has detours, obstacles, and shit along the way but we can survive if we are compassionate, caring, and loving humans!
The Words of Amy Ferris – Please, bear with me.
Today is the anniversary of my dad’s death; 20 years today; November 2.
This is one of my very favorite pieces that I wrote about us, and in honor of him today, I share it again.
Every Saturday we took the Long Island Railroad from Bellmore to Manhattan. New York City. The train ride was about forty-eight minutes, station-to-station. At the candy store in Bellmore, he got a newspaper and a coffee with a little milk; and I would get chocolate milk. On the train, we would find seats – two together, side by side – and we would sip and he would read, and I would stare out the window watching the world swish by.
He had been arrested.
A bribery case – the United States vs… my Dad.
He didn’t expect to be caught. He didn’t expect to be arrested. We didn’t expect life to change. She didn’t expect to pawn all her jewelry. I didn’t expect to be bullied and harassed, and to have imaginary friends. We had never known that kind of fear and sad before, and now they had moved in with us, constant companions, tagging along where ever we went.
You don’t expect that kinda shit when you’re 8 years old.
He needed a job; to feed us, to pay the bills, the mortgage, the car, the clothes.
He got a job working at Melvin’s Frame Shop in the West 30’s. Or maybe it was the West 40’s. We would walk from Penn Station, the LIRR, to the shop. His friend, Murray, got him the job. Melvin was Murray’s cousin. Melvin made frames for Museums, and Art Gallery’s and was pretty well known in that world. Elaborate frames. Fancy frames – gold, and silver, huge frames. My dad was hired to sweep the floors, and clean the place. A janitor. He would sweep, and clean, and label frames, and organize things, and I would sit on the wooden table, my little-girl skinny legs dangling, and I’d watch – mesmerized – as my dad swept the wooden shavings from under the tables with a huge broom and dustpan. And Melvin would berate him, in an accent sprinkled with angry. “Sweep here. HERE. This. This. Here. THIS. This dust, and this sand, and these wood chips… and the mess… sweep, god-damn-it, sweep, you lazy man, can’t you see where you’re sweeping, Goddamnit?” And my dad would shrink right before me – right before my eyes. He would shrink, and disappear, and I was so scared he would disappear forever. He was a tall man – six foot one – but Melvin could make him disappear. Melvin had the same tattoos that Phyllis and Henry had. The same exact tattoos. I called them cartoons. I didn’t know what tattoos were. Numbers – like a telephone number – on their forearm. Melvin had the same tattoo as them. I knew about those numbers. I knew that Phyllis and Henry had lost both sets of parents. All four. They had burned to death in an oven. I knew that story. I had heard that story over family get-togethers, dinners. Incinerated, was the word used. I watched, witnessed, as Melvin spewed at my father. Goddamn you, you lazy man. And I would sit on the wooden worktable, my little skinny legs dangling, and watch my dad lose whatever faith he was clinging to while I was clinging to him. I wasn’t sure why he brought me with him on Saturday’s. Maybe he wanted me to know that he loved me. Maybe he was lonely. Maybe because it was a Saturday, and he never needed to work on Saturday’s, and that was our day. But our days were different before the arrest. They were filled with hope and possibility; museums and plays, and theater, and movies and Aunt Jemina pancakes. Maybe he needed to know that no matter what, no matter fucking what, I would love him. We would leave the Frame Shop right on the dot: Five O’clock, and we would walk down Broadway to Penn Station. Stopping at the automat. He would get a hot steaming cup of coffee, and I would get a milkshake. Chocolate. And we would sit at the counter, and I would watch my dad stare into his coffee, a million miles away. And I would make believe that I was a Princess from the Island of Long, and we were having a day out and no one – no one – could find us. I liked that game. And then, we would stand up, and almost on cue, we would both exhale, and then he would leave a tip, a few coins for the waitress behind the counter, and we would walk to the train station, a few blocks away, and climb down the stairs into the station, and find the track number, and go to the platform, and wait for our train, and the train would swish into the station, loud and steamy, and when the conductor said: all aboard – because back then they did – we stepped in, and found our seats, and I grabbed my dad’s hand and didn’t let go.
I didn’t let go.
And I could feel every bit of his sad and his unhappy and his burden and his disappointment and his humility and his anger and his disgrace and his embarrassment and his shame and his worry and his fear and his doubt entwined in my fingers. Our hands. I could feel it. And when I finally caught his eye – when he finally looked down at me – his little girl, his princess – my eyes were saying, you’re my hero, Daddy, you’re my hero. And I think maybe for a few seconds he believed me, and I think that maybe that gave him just a little more courage. A little more hope. At least enough courage and hope to get us home.
After months – day in, day out, day in – my dad was acquitted on a technicality. And our life came back, piece by broken chipped cracked piece. He stopped working at the frame shop and my mother stopped pawning her jewelry and I stopped having imaginary friends and we never, ever talked about that time.
It was taboo.
That huge, massive cluster of shame was hidden deep, tucked away, because that’s what you did back then – when something bad, awful, horrible happened – and it was swept under the wooden table along with all the wooden chips and all the dust and all the shavings; into corners and crevices and cracks and under rugs – hidden and buried deep.
For the last four days, I have been playing with the website, or attempting to and spending most of my time on the phone with GODADDY, who is helpful, but the situation has been annoying. The first REP tells me that I am accessing my website incorrectly. However, I have been accessing it in the same manner for almost three years and had no real problems until this weekend. Although he initially got me into my site, it stopped working.
Call #2 instructed me that WordPress had issues and that since I was not paying for a secure website I was encountering these errors and it would only get worse. They want on to explain viruses, etc., and scammers who debug and bug the media and if I had a secure website with them, they would be responsible for the fixes and if anyone got infected visiting my site. Another insurance policy needed, and $1000 plus spent that newclevelandradio.net doesn’t have but we had to find it!
OOPS – Call #3 site still not working and now I am told the server we were on had problems, therefore, denying me access to my pages. I was kindly told they would inform me when the site was repaired. Did you get that email or phone call, I didn’t but it appears to be working. Also in the URL address, there is a lock for security so my money is going to good use – I hope!
newclevelandradio.net is now venturing out to add sponsors to our webpage. We will have their adds link to their websites and or Facebook page or phone # whatever works for them. It is important for us to continue to support individuals, like yourself, to have the strength to follow your journey through the challenges of life. We also hope to bring you more podcasting that will assist you to face your daily challenges.
If you or anyone you know would like to sponsor our website and or podcast with us, we would like to hear from you, WE ACCEPT PAYPAL.
What is wrong with this picture? A friend of mine had a surgical procedure today, and before going to the hospital, she had to pay her deductible, if it had not been met. Most of us have high deductibles as we cannot afford the insurance with anything less. Additionally, as she was prepped for surgery, the hospital staff tried adding on tests that would have padded her bill to the tune of $7,000. Really, where is the average patient going to come up with this kind of money?
Just yesterday I heard, President Donald Trump, tell the media that our economy is the best it’s been in 50 years, and we have the lowest unemployment rate. However, that was not a truthful statement, since more people are working multiple jobs to make ends meet, and a majority of Americans are working various part-time assignments, that doesn’t bode well for Donald’s lack of knowledge. What he and his cronies do not understand employers do not have to offer benefits when you are not part of the full-time work core. Benefits not only include insurance, but paid time off for illness, personal, and need vacation/rejuvenation time. When so many of us are displaced workers earning less than our education and experience totals, the communities we live in begin to suffer. We wonder why customer service has been a lost art; that can easily be explained when individuals feel that they are not appreciated. Do You Feel Appreciated?
I have been asked why I am so anti-Donald Trump, and my answer begins with the above. How many times can anyone distort the truth and have so many people believe they are truthful when the reality is DECEIT? I refuse to be lead to slaughter. Since I began writing this blog, it has been noted in the news that our financial position here in the United States is not as good as (the wealthy) may have been thought. Additionally, the unemployment rate is not as low as announced it does not take in to affect all the individuals working part-time since companies have cutback to avoid paying benefits, like the ones I described above.
So what is the real truth? The real truth is America has been GREAT; however, it is faltering. It is up to us to learn from the mistakes that have occurred and turn things around. It begins with communication and collaboration of ideas and ideals. We can do it, and we must do it! Will you join me?
I’m just a girl who can’t say “NO” when it comes to helping people I like, love and appreciate. Learning that my brother’s website was not being supported by GODADDY (since it was designed in an old program) I offered to help him set up his new site using WordPress. Now, I use WordPress for this webpage and I have used it for various projects over the years and although it is somewhat user-friendly it is becoming less so as they add components without an explanation or example of what it will do. In fact, while trying to update his pages the circle of life continues to rotate, however, on mine, it is automatically updated! Can I say, WTF?
I am excited to help my big brother as I enjoy producing websites and designing a look that will get the attention it deserves. However, I am getting a migraine and I think I will be calling GODADDY as they combined his site to my WordPress account and I believe this is the issue for the lag in updates.
In addition to putting this together for Just 4 The Spell of It, I want to reach out to all of you that play Scrabble, Words with Friends, Boggle, as well as enjoy the challenges of Crossword Puzzles, and WordSwip. In reaching out I want to announce on August 24th my brother Gary will be bringing JFTSOI to a city near you as he heads out of Southern California driving North and East conducting WORD EVENTS. If you would like to host an event or know of a classroom that may enjoy having the word guru visit them, please feel free to contact:
August 2, 2016, I received a call from my brother Joel. Just shortly before he called me, he learned that our mother had suffered a stroke. That morning still stands out in my mind, as Rich left for work, I went out on our back patio and decided to dig up and transplant a spider plant. The plant was barely growing between two well-thriving hostas. As I freed this struggling plant and replaced it in front of my patio doors, I felt as if I had just completed a decisive action. With a feeling of satisfaction, I smiled, knowing that it was going to be a good day until I received the phone call. That plant today is growing and sprouting new baby shoots each year.
I remember feeling a sense of disbelief; my mom was a strong woman who was 96 ½ years young. My brother had to have his information wrong. However, after promising him, I would get myself together and drive to Michigan to be with mom, I followed up with the hospital to learn her condition was concerning. (Now what does that mean?)
After getting my family situated, Rich, Alex, and I set out for Detroit. All we knew at that time was she had suffered what appeared to be a stroke, was blind, and had no idea what happened, or if anything happened. She had no concept of being blind; she saw what she wanted *in her mind.
Arriving hours later as I approached her hospital room, I feared the worst and hoped for the best. Mom was sleeping, as I slowly approached her and woke her up. She sounded like mom, although a bit confused as she began asking questions about why she was in the hospital. She said she felt fine and wanted to go home. I reassured she would be staying at the hospital for at least the night we had to identify what may have happened. Again, she still had no idea she was blind.
August 2, 2016, took us all on a journey we never expected or planned.
From August 2, through October 11, 2019, I was blessed to spend my mother’s last weeks with her. It was during this time I was able to talk to my mama in a manner I never thought I could. We went from what I depicted as a love/hate mother-daughter relationship to a loving, trusting, mother-daughter experience. I grew up during those weeks, even though I didn’t feel ready for the challenges I faced.
I have not felt the same since the transition from Summer to Fall in 2016. I have held on to the good memories from those weeks, the stories my mama told, some over and over again, while others were in fragments that I may never know the full meaning. During this period, I felt like I was in limbo just as much as my mom. Although there was no hope for her recovery, we also had no time table of her fate. Each day was a blessing and a miracle until she died.
I have been told by the rabbis and the scholarly Jewish community that my mother’s death on the Eve of Yom Kippur, October 11, 2016, was a mitzvah. My mother was absolved of all her sins in 2076, written into the book of life, and with 2077 on the horizon, she would leave this earthly world in the presence and acceptance of G-D. However, ever year, Yom Kippur rolls around as I pray for life,I now remember my mother’s life and the love she shared.
August the 2nd will always remind me of the opportunity I had to care for my mother and create a heartful of loving memories!
This is my opinion – Karen Moss Hale
Last night I had no intention of watching Part 1 of the Democrats Debate. However, I did watch it, and I was amazed at the talent and mostly the compassion in many of these #WANT-2-B-Presidents. I went into this not wanting to like Elizabeth Warren, thinking she had her chance in 2016, but I see a different person in her now. She truly cares; she is the mom, teacher, nurse, doctor, and mentor that we need. Yet I saw the spark in the eyes of others who I felt were also believable. I have trusted Julian Castro since his introduction through Obama years ago. I understood the use of Spanish and English in his remarks last night, however, when my grandparents and yours came here from far-away lands speaking in their tongue, part of becoming a U.S. citizen was learning English and be capable of communicating with all. I am not against having a native language like Spanish, French, Yiddish, etc., but we all must learn to speak in the same language. We are a melting pot, and we must be able to blend together, bringing our strengths to the table and improving upon our weaknesses.
Personally, Cory Booker is another fine politician and human, and he reminds me of President Obama, and for my family and me although we had our own personal struggles during his period in office, we felt safe and optimistic. The stats from last night say Booker and Castro were at odds with each other and this is something that we must overcome. The Democratic System is about choice, freedom, and rights. It is also about collaboration and not compromise. Many of the #WANT-2-B-Presidents said it; it is not about starting a new project; it is about taking what we have and making it better. Whether you agree or not, that is what the Affordable Care Act was about. It was the starting point to help provide that all AMERICANS have affordable care despite their age and or income level! Why should we throw the baby out with the bathwater when we can hold tight to the baby and reconstruct the bath temperature?
Tonight is yet another #WANT-2-B-Presidents debate, and I am sure there will be a lot more rhetoric being spewed, some real and like some else says, some fake! However, we are still living in a free country where we can listen, observe, discuss, and make the right decision.
- Healthcare is a given if we are going to grow and capable of living full lives.
- Education must allow teachers to instruct, guide, and mentor, stop putting handcuffs on them, and education must be equalized for all no matter how economically rich or poor the community is!
- The government must listen to the constituents, hear what they want, need, and require to be leaders in their families, communities, and beyond.
- Stop creating wars, communication with our Ally’s and Enemies must be the focus and not threats that bring on retaliation.
- We MUST face the fact we are killing mother earth, and we have the ability to stop it. New innovations are at our fingertips, and these skills can be taught and change both the political and natural resources climate.
Before my mother died in 2016, I promised her that Donald Trump would not be elected. Sadly, I could not keep my promise. Many people enjoyed his promises about “Making America Great Again,” the problem was, it was already Great, and now it is in pain! We need a new doctor in the house.