TRY SLEEPING AT NIGHT IN NYC
Some people say that Las Vegas is the city that never sleeps. They were probably never in NYC at night. Maybe because it’s so noisy during the day that you never hear some of the noises until night, or do they just come out at night? I don’t know what it is but twenty to thirty stories up high in mid-town Manhattan it is as though you are in the middle of a war zone. Well, sort of.
Even at two AM you can hear the incessant wail of the ambulances and the sirens of the police cars screaming on their way to wherever. Are there no emergencies during daylight hours? And the trucks. There seems to be no end of them, at night. What really gets me is the rumbling and snorting of the motor cycles. Yes, motor cycles. As an ex-biker for some twenty five years, I know one when I hear one.
I guess that’s part of the charm and mystique of NYC.
THOSE WERE THE DAYS MY FRIEND
The lyrics from a song, right? Yes, but I’m referring back to a time long, long ago, in a far off galaxy, when our newscasters reported the news, WITHOUT commentary, opinion or innuendo. I know, I know. It was boring without the critique that has since become a necessary ritual. But I think that’s the way it was originally intended to be. Just tell me the facts and I’ll make my own decisions on what it means to me and how it does or does not effect my way of life.
Putting commentary, opinion and innuendo aside, what really troubles me and it should trouble everyone else, is inventiveness and creativity. Those traits belong to the scientist, not the reporter whose job it is to report a story not to tell a story. If you have been listening to the news this past weekend you’ll know why the stock market took a sudden steep drop following the release of a so-called news item that proved to be a total fabrication that NBC fessed up to and put the so-called reporter, on whose figments of imagination got carried away, on suspension without pay.
THE FBI? YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING
Have you ever taken a tour of the FBI building in Washington, DC? It was over forty years ago when I did and as I recall it was not a big deal. The only thing that I can remember about it, and I’m certain that it was intended that way, that upon the conclusion of the tour one of the agents escorted everyone into a shooting range and when he had everyone’s full attention, he held up a .45 caliber Thompson Machine Gun and without any advance warning, fired off about a dozen rounds down range. Everyone was in awe and expected an encore of some kind. He then immediately pointed everyone towards the exit door on the side which let out to the street. And that’s how the tour ended.
When I was with the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department we always had continual training, some of which consisted of watching various training films. One of those films dealt with a high profile robbery and the arrival of the FBI on the scene. This film stressed what we should NOT do in similar circumstances because everything that the FBI did was wrong.
J Edgar Hoover ran the FBI from March 23, 1935 until the date of his death on May 2, 1972. Despite the continual rumors over those years we really didn’t know much about J Edgar until years after his death. Only then was it revealed that a great deal of his power, or his hold over a number of politicians, hinged on his accumulation of numerous salacious dossiers on those politicians, including certain Presidents. This is truly odd when you consider that J Edgar Hoover himself was in fact a well known documented sexual sicko.
A MAN WITH A VISION
I have always maintained that the average person knows something in between very little and practically nothing when it comes to history, American History, European History, Asiatic History or any kind of history – especially the history that deals with World War II.
I recently met someone who not only knows about World War II History but also has seen fit to put his money where his mouth is.
This individual has personally financed and accumulated the largest and most incredible collection of original World War II paintings, many of them aviation related and almost all of them are signed by the participants depicted therein. As an example, the painting of the Doolittle Raiders prior to their Tokyo bombing mission in 1942 was signed by Jimmy Doolittle and his men. The painting of the Wake Island survivors was signed by the very same survivors. The painting of Dick Winters, of “Band of Brothers” and Easy Company fame, was signed by Dick Winters. And so forth.
The name of this individual is Eugene Eisenberg and he comes from Brooklyn , NY.
Upon his retirement from the transportation and food industries he decided to use part of his funds to preserve OUR history. This unique collection of original paintings is not just one sided. It also represents our former enemies, namely the Luftwaffe as well as the Imperial Japanese Forces.
When I visited his penthouse apartment in Aventura, Florida, I was in awe. I was in a veritable museum. His canvases, some as large as five feet by ten feet, covered just about every inch of wall space. I have previously seen replicas of some of his paintings over the years and I am familiar with some of the names of the participants. But I have never seen a collection such as this one, under one roof, which in my opinion, is an important part of our history that should be protected and preserved for future generations.