The Beetle

"Well, Mr. Bruns, I can offer you a Chrysler minivan or a Volkswagen Beetle," the rental car agent said.

"Hmm, can I see the Beetle?" was my reply.  I just wanted to see if it was punch buggy yellow or orange. It was an industrial silver.

"Okay, I'll take the Beetle."

In a few moments, I was behind the wheel of a Beetle for the first time in, well, 40 years.  But, this was not a vintage '60s or '70s Beetle. It was a New Beetle, a 2013 model to be precise.

I first drove a Beetle as a delivery boy while a senior in high school. The pharmacy I worked at had two of them, one light blue and the other orange. They were fun to motor around town in, but I guess any car is when you first get your driver's license.

One of the pharmacists, a young guy with long dark hair and a beard, had a red convertible Beetle.  Boy, did he look cool when he pulled in or out of the parking lot with his roof down.

A college friend of mine also had a light blue Beetle. While I poured loads of money into a different used car and repairs every year, he drove his Beetle with few expenses for repairs or gas the whole time we were undergraduates. The only issue the little Bug had was a permanent stain on the passenger door after someone threw up on it.

Over 20 million Beetles have been manufactured by Volkswagen since 1938 in factories across the world, including in Europe, Mexico, Brazil, Asia and Africa. Yet, it seems each Bug has its own personality -- and owners that are fond of them for years afterwards.

I remember when the New Beetle was first introduced in 1997, 17 years after the original Beetle was no longer available in the US. My six-year-old son was so excited to see a red one in a neighbor's driveway, he went over and got a ride in it. Shortly afterwards, he and I made a blue Beetle for a Cub Scouts Pinewood Derby race. (Alas, we were reminded that the Beetle was never a speed demon.)

My Beetle rental car and I did well together for the 50 hours I had its keys this week.  Unlike the '70s models I first drove, this one had power windows -- and cruise control.   Whoooo, take it easy there, little Bug.

It only snarled at me once, after I parked it overnight behind a huge Ford pickup truck.  "Don't you ever leave me behind one of those again!" I think I heard it say.

Oh, and one morning it wouldn't open its trunk, despite my repeated attempts to unlock it.  I can't imagine what the Beetle thought I was going to do back there, especially since it no longer has an engine in the rear.

After fueling it up, I returned it to the rental car lot, took a picture and said goodbye, and hoped it would delight another customer with a trip down memory lane.

In praise of the intelligence of young artists

Following is a conversation that took place between a a young rental car agent and middle-age man at the Albany-Rensselaer train station today.

Agent:  Where are you going today, sir?

Man: Oneonta.

Agent: Oh, wow.  I'm very familiar with it.  That's where I went to school.

Man:  Really?  Where did you go, Hartwick College or the SUNY school?

Agent:  I went to the SUNY school, fortunately.

Man:  That's interesting.  My son and daughter went to a SUNY school.

Agent:  Really?  Which one?

Man:  They went to Purchase.

Agent:  Oh, wow.  Are they artists?  What did they study?

Man:  My son studied music.  His wife studied dance.

Agent:  That's cool.  You've gotta be smart to go to that school.  What are they doing now?

Man:  He's a CPA.  She's going to medical school.

Agent:  Oh, wow!  Like I said, artists are real smart people.   

Father and son

They boarded a crowded double decker New Jersey Transit train at New York's Penn Station. With few open seats in the main cabin left, the two sat down in the open area by the doors, under the arm pits of weary commuters nearing the end of a long day.

The boy could barely sit still. He looked around at the people on the train, few who resembled his dad. Sometimes he looked out the window, pointing something out to his father or asking him a question.  Sometimes the man had an answer, other times not, but he always paid attention to what his son had to say.

The train thinned out as it headed south, enabling the boy to spread out a bit across two seats. The man sat still next to him, moving little except to pick up a pack of cigarettes that dropped from his pants packet. Eventually tiring a bit after an hour, the boy leaned against his father's shoulder, and eyed a small mark by a tattoo that read, "Nick."

"Dad, what's that?" the boy asked, pointing to the mark on his father's arm. In a low voice audible only to his son, he answered. The boy looked up for a moment, then leaned over and kissed the  mark on his father's arm. The man smiled at his son, then looked across the aisle and smiled at another man who observed the touching scene.

The man and boy got off the train at the Little Silver station, heading to their final destination, but certainly not the end of their journey through life as father and son.

Attila the Hun

One of my favorite parts of being aboard a cruise ship is seeing the different countries on the name badges of the crew.  Jamaica and the Philippines seem to be the most popular home countries of crew members aboard Caribbean Sea cruises, but dozens of other countries (including the United States) can be spotted.

One evening this week, as we approached a juice and soda dispenser, my wife and I stopped a young Hispanic-looking crew member to ask a question.  To my surprise, his name badge read "Attila Peto / Romania."  Attila answered our query and, for the next 15 minutes, chatted to us about his life and work on the ship.

He told us that he and a twin brother were born 25 years ago in a section of Romania that was formerly part of Hungary.  His explained that his parents named him after the fifth century leader of the Hunnic Empire, Attila.  He said he learned to speak English working for an American hotel chain in his home country, and learned Spanish from a Mexican girlfriend on the crew.

We saw Attila again the next morning during breakfast, manning the coffee station.  He made us lattes, which my wife and I agreed were our best coffees of the cruise.  He was too busy to talk much more with us, but we thanked him for the java and wished him well.

My wife and I are back in our New Jersey home now.  Attila and the hundreds of other crew members from Europe, Asia, Africa, North and South America and parts in between are already working their next cruise, far from their homes and trying to make the world even smaller. 

Dylan Charles

It's a wonderful name. Dylan is the moniker of my favorite music personality, Bob Dylan. Charles is the title my Cuban immigrant parents gave their second US-born son. 

Dylan Charles is also the name my brother and his wife bestowed on their second son, who entered the world on February 4, 1987.  He passed away exactly five years ago tomorrow, at age 22.

Time has not yet healed the pain of Dylan's parents.  It probably never will, although I can never fully comprehend how deep the hurt and sense of loss must be from losing a child handicapped by muscular dystrophy.  No one, however, would dare refer to Dylan as crippled during his short time on this earth.

He had more love from his parents than any child could wish.  My brother and his wife were determined to make sure Dylan got every bit of quality that could be squeezed from life without spoiling  him. He lived in a comfortable home, made lots of friends, enjoyed toys and technology, and got a good education.  Along the way, Dylan developed an unselfish perspective of the world he wasn't reluctant to share with anyone who would listen.

Dylan had lots of feist in him.  He experienced what it was like to hit a baseball, he more than held his own in computer games, and maneuvered a wheelchair with agility and some creativity. The love and, when needed, the muscles of his parents and brother helped keep him moving forward through life with steely determination.  

Everyone realized, however, it was just a matter of time before MD would do in his body.  It eventually did on May 31, 2009.  But, no amount of time will cause him to be forgotten by those who knew him and felt fortunate to be part of his life.

Tumbling Dice

I've been keeping as busy with pictures as I have with words during the past month.  Many of my photos have been shared on Tumblr.  If you've missed some of them, click on the subheadings below to see the photos which accompany my short write-ups.

Take Me Out to the Ball Game

Is there anything more American in springtime than Opening Day in major league ballparks across the United States?  When the teams are from Washington DC and New York City and the pre-game ceremonies include a huge American flag, probably not!  

Back to campus on a gorgeous spring day

If you return to visit the college you attended a generation ago, it’s bound to confirm that “the more things change, the more they stay the same.”  At Seton Hall University, that means a statue of the Pirates mascot appears outside the Richie Regan Recreational and Athletic Center ready to charge the Walsh Library.  The sun continues to set on President’s Hall and the Immaculate Conception Chapel as it has since the 19th century.  And, students still enjoy a break from studies by playing wiffle ball on the University Green.

Cosmos Country, 2014

It’s NASL soccer on turf with an eclectic roster featuring Brazilian-born former Spanish international Marcos Senna, but today’s Cosmos is not the club your father may have seen a generation ago.  The 2014 edition plays second-division soccer in front of a few thousand fans at Hofstra University, not 40,000-70,000 as it did at the New Jersey Meadowlands, although it continues the winning tradition established in the 1970s and ’80s when it was among the world’s most famous soccer clubs.

Today’s New York Cosmos, however, features some things not seen many years ago — ultras standing and chanting for 90+ minutes behind a goal and a sponsor prominently displayed on banners and uniforms.  At yesterday’s home opener, Pele was even on hand to pose (sort of) for pictures with fans old and new.

Yesterday’s Coney Island, today

The Parachute Jump stands as tall as ever, its colors probably blinding the ghosts of yesterday’s thrill seekers.  Wonder Wheel cars slide through their circles, the sounds of the Cyclone and its shrieking riders a background soundtrack. An antique car sits by Nathan’s, like a picture from a vintage postcard or book. 

On a pleasant spring weekend day, Coney Island remains as vibrant as ever, attracting the tired, the poor, the huddled masses and many others, just as it did over a century ago.  Signs of new investments hint at possibilities of even greater summertime memories ahead.

Behind Wilson Hall

Many Monmouth County residents and vacationers have seen Wilson Hall as they peek to the south while passing through Monmouth University. Erlanger Gardens, situated just west of Wilson Hall’s back rooms, is another of the university’s architectural gems.  The garden occasionally hosts students and events, but often sits peacefully at sunset.

The Frenchman

He won’t be appearing in the World Cup for the first time in 20 years this summer, but Thierry Henry is expected to continue being in top form as the New York Red Bulls attempt to capture their first MLS Cup this season.

After scoring 51 goals in 123 internationals for the French national team, Henry has notched 45 goals in 106 matches for New York, including one in last night’s 4-0 win against Houston.  He remains difficult to mark as he roams around the pitch, and still gets past defenders who challenge him, always to the joy of Red Bull Arena ultras grateful for his skills and leadership.  

On the subject of Tumbling Dice, don't the Rolling Stones -- all officially senior citizens -- still sound great in concert?  (Thank you, Wang Lynn, for sharing your video of them performing the song in Shanghai last month.)   

Jim Cummins, distinguished photographer and teacher, on exhibit in New York

There are people who pass quickly through your life, but leave a long-lasting mark.  Jim Cummins, a distinguished photographer and formerly an adjunct professor at Seton Hall University, is one of those people. Soon, his work will leave an impression on many other people.

I saw Jim just over a dozen times during the spring semester of my sophomore year, during my weekly still photography class.  I had never used a camera before taking his class, but I've rarely not had one handy since then. He taught me how to compose a frame, set the right exposure, and time a shot. He explained why the ASA/ISO setting, f-stop and shutter speed matter. 

Cummins told his students not to bother getting a pricey camera, but instead showed us how to master any camera in order to freeze an image.  He also instructed us how to use chemicals, dark room equipment and special film processing techniques to enhance pictures.

The photography skills he taught me have served me very well through life as a chronicler of family and friends, special moments, and interesting sights.  Whether it's an event, vacation, business trip or simply a day in a city or countryside, I've almost always been there with an inexpensive camera, often taking priceless pictures. My two sons are major beneficiaries of what Cummins taught me, with many photo albums of memorable and forgotten times theirs for the taking.

I don't remember Cummins saying anything about the famous people he captured on film during his career.  He knew the class was for the benefit of his students, not his ego.  It wasn't until many years later, in fact, that I learned he had photographed Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and many other stars and garnered numerous accolades for his great work.

An exhibit, "Jim Cummins / Photos From The Golden Age of Rock," displaying some of his restored and preserved photos of 1960s and '70s music legends, will be held at the Baboo Gallery in the Flatiron district of New York City this spring.  For more information on this exhibit, which opens with a reception on April 10 at which Cummins will be present, go to CumminsCollection.ImageFortress.com or write to BabooGalleryEvents@gmail.com or call 212.727.2727.

Photo of Jim Cummins used with permission of Image Fortess Corp.