Saturday, April 20, 2019

España: 8 days in the past and present

I walked past them on the streets of Madrid, Barcelona and other cities in Spain. Many of them had my complexion, my eyes, my hair. Several of the faces bore the look my wife had become familiar with over the years. For sure, I was among my people. At the very least, I was among people whose distant ancestry I shared. No doubt, there were lots of them who had the same Lopez, Suarez, Castro and possibly Valdés surnames as my parents, grandparents and those in the previous generations of our family who migrated from Spain to Cuba 150-250 years ago. I never felt so comfortable, so at home, in a foreign land.

It took me over 60 years to visit Spain, but the eight-day trip I enjoyed there this spring made the wait worthwhile. My wife and I had an enlightening journey through the past and present in Madrid, Toledo, Cordoba, Sevilla, Granada, Valencia, Montserrat and Barcelona, surrounded by wonderful people, fascinating sights and plenty of great coffee and food.

When my wife and I arrived in Madrid, we stretched our legs with a walk past the Puerta de Alcalá and Palacio de Communicaciones, just in time to see a parade of police officers marching from the Puerta del Sol to demand higher wages. We followed them to the Plaza de Neptuno, then continued past some government buildings (but not, apparently, the offices of El Ministerio del Tiempo) into the Parque del Buen Retiro. We got happily lost in the maze of the big park before eventually finding our way to the Monumento al rey Alfonso XII by the lake.

The next day, we joined our fellow Globus tourists on a ride past the Palacio Real, walk in the Plaza de España with its monument to the author of Don Quixote, Miguel de Cervantes, and then spent a few -- too few -- hours at the Museo Nacional del Prado, where we were awed by original artworks from Diego Velazquez, Francisco de Goya, El Greco (Domenikos Theotokopoulos) and others. The highlight of the day, however, was an excursion to the old but well preserved city of Toledo, with its Catedral Primada Santa María and ancient concentration of Arab, Gothic, Mudéjar, Renaissance and Baroque architecture.

In Cordoba the following day, we visited the Mezquita-Catedral (also known as the Mosque of the Caliphs) and were struck again by the mix of Muslim and Christian architecture, including the city's Roman bridge. It was reassuring to know that at one time centuries ago Jews, Christians and Muslims actually lived together peacefully.

In Sevilla the next day, we visited its expansive Plaza de España, the Casa de Pilatos, and spent time at Santa Iglesia Catedral, the largest Gothic cathedral in the world. My wife and I enjoyed walking around the neighborhood by the hotel and drinking another great cafe con leche (they seem readily available throughout the country). In the evening, we had dinner before watching a magnificent flamenco dance show at the El Palacio Andaluz.

La Alhambra, built in the 13th century as a city within the city of present-day Granada, was the highlight of the next day. It afforded us fabulous views of the  rest of Granada, where we saw the first of many caves in which some Spaniards continue living today with modern conveniences such as electricity and wi-fi.

The Mediterranean Sea city of Valencia was our next stop. Once again, we observed how well the Roman, Moorish and Spanish past of the city has been preserved. We were equally impressed, however, with the very modern Ciudad De Las Artes y Las Ciencias and its futuristic architecture. A major highlight of the visit to Valencia, no doubt, was dinner at a seaside restaurant in which three different paella dishes were served.

Our last stop in Spain was Barcelona, a city which words -- English, Spanish or local Catalan -- and pictures can't fully describe. We strolled around the El Gotic neighborhood and, in the evening, walked down the Gran Via Corts de les Catalans to join thousands of others at the Font Magico. We took in the site of the 1992 Olympics and La Barceloneta and waterfront areas that have been revitalized in recent decades, as well as Santa-Montjuic.

While visiting Barcelona, we also took an excursion to Montserrat, whose Royal Basilica houses the Virgin Morenita, a Romaneque carving whose hand can be touched by pilgrims. Montserrat, like other places we visited in Spain, offers breathtaking views.

What I'll remember most about Barcelona, however, is the one-of-a-kind Basilica de la Sagrada Familia, designed by Antoni Gaudi in the late 19th century and still under construction today. It is scheduled to be completed in 2026, on the 100th anniversary of Gaudi's death. Since I hope it won't be another 60-plus years before I return to Spain, I look forward to seeing the finished basilica with millions of Spaniards, people of Spanish ancestry, and others fascinated by the country's past and present history and culture!


To see some pictures from my journey through Spain, check out my Instagram page at: https://www.instagram.com/charleybruns/.


Born Charles Lopez to Cuban immigrants in New York City, Charley began using his stepfather's surname when he moved to New Jersey at 11 years of age. Charley also hopes to visit Cuba, where he spent a couple of his pre-school years, when the time is right.

Saturday, March 16, 2019

Lonely thoughts on a beach




















When I last saw you
I thought I’d be back.
I didn’t think my good-bye
was so-long forever.

But here I sit on the beach,
looking beyond the cold ocean,
wondering where you are, 
how you’re doing,
if you still remember me.

I’m okay if you’re curious.
My studies were followed by jobs
and before you know it
I was practically American.

But I’m not quite all-American.
There’s no house with a white picket fence
or dogs running around a yard 
or a spouse with kids in my home.

Instead there are nights on WhatsApp,
Instagram, Facebook, Twitter,
with the TV on and bed unmade.
There are weekend days on the beach,
cold days, warm days, lonely days.

Yes, I got the education and career I wanted,
but I still don’t have you.
Will you be coming over any time soon?
Or should I came back for you?
Anyway, where are you?




copyright Charles A. Bruns, 2019

Sunday, March 3, 2019

City of Champions, by Hank Gola


You don't write a book like City of Champions simply because you're an experienced sportswriter who majored in history at college and now have some time on your hands. You write such a great book because you have a passion for the subject and you're on a mission to share it like no one else can. And, that's exactly what Hank Gola did in his very well written and thoroughly researched book about the 1939 Garfield High School football team and the events leading up to their national championship game in Miami that Christmas Day. 

Hank has been promoting his book in New Jersey and Florida and parts in between this winter. His schedule included a presentation at the Morristown and Morris Township library in Morristown, NJ this afternoon during which he shared stories from his book and displayed some very well-preserved varsity sportswear from 1939 (above). I was happy to see my former Herald-News colleague for the first time in nearly 40 years there. A friend of mine and, like Hank, a fellow Garfield H.S. graduate, Roy Pelcher, was also glad to be there and learn more about the legendary football team and their hometown's history.

In my review of City of Champions on Amazon earlier this winter, I wrote, "If it were possible to give City of Champions six stars, I would. If you are a sports fan and history buff interested in reading about a high school football team from a working class town that went undefeated and laid claim to the national championship, you might, too. (And if you're not, you might just give it five stars.)

"Hank Gola's research of the people and events leading up to Garfield High School's Christmas Day 1939 title game in the newly-built Orange Bowl is as comprehensive as that of any history book I've read. His writing skills make the personalities involved in the big game jump out of the book's pages. As you might expect from a distinguished journalist, Hank's descriptions of the teams' suburban New Jersey and Miami hometowns and life during the Great Depression, before World War II, is fascinating. I almost felt like I was reading a movie script. The people were real, however, as were the forces that brought them together and then apart.

"A story like the one chronicled in City of Champions could never happen again. Too much has changed in the United States and scholastic sports during the past 80 years. Thankfully, Hank Gola made it a labor of love to capture it like it happened with his thorough research and strong writing so we can all enjoy reading it."

Among my favorite parts of the book were the references to Garfield's fierce rivalry with my alma mater, Bloomfield High School. From Hank's book I learned just how powerful and important to the community those Bengals teams coached by Bill Foley were during the 1930s.

Thank you and congratulations, Hank, for authoring such a great book! 

Below: Hank Gola flanked by fellow Garfield H.S. graduate, Roy Pelcher (left) and former Herald-News colleague, Charley Bruns (right)



Tuesday, December 18, 2018

Choo Choos, Parts 1-3

I.
The gentleman looked out the window,
eager to see the change in the Virginia countryside
with the Civil War over and the Union once more.

He occasionally looked down at his newspaper
to learn the latest developments in Washington
and gossip among the powerful and elite.

His wife would sometimes get his attention
and he would respond by speaking to her,
shaking or nodding his head.

All the while the choo choo kept blowing its whistle and belching its smoke
chugging its way south,
clickety-clacking down the tracks.

II.
Nearly 100 years later, a gentleman in a suit
asked another man in a pin-striped uniform,
“What’s your wife’s name, and what’s she like?” 
The baseball player known as Choo Choo responded,
“Her name is Mrs. Coleman — and she likes me, Bub.”

III.
The gentleman looked out the window, 
staring blankly at the old Virginia towns and landscape
after another contentious week in our United States.

He occasionally looked down at his phone
to read the latest newsfeed and tweets 
and gossip among the powerful and elite.

His girlfriend would sometimes get his attention
and he would respond by speaking to her,
shaking or nodding his head.

All the while the choo choo kept blowing its whistle and drinking its diesel 
chugging its way south,
clickety-clacking down the tracks.























copyright 2018, Charles A. Bruns

Thursday, December 6, 2018

The Brighton Bar, the Movie Screening

You know what to expect
but never sure what you’ll get
when you walk inside the Brighton Bar.
And thus it was with the Brighton Bar movie screening.

“If you have a black ticket, you can come inside,”
said the lady from the historical association.
“Tickets? I didn’t know we needed tickets,”
responded the dozens waiting outside the screening room.

“If you want to see the second screening, take a green ticket,”
explained the lady from the historical association.
“Go to the Brighton Bar and have a drink while you wait.”
And around the corner walked some of the huddled masses.

But, the Brighton Bar was closed — its staff and patrons
had gone around the corner to see the documentary movie.
So back out in the cold walked the huddled masses 
to wait for the second screening of the movie.

“Shhhhh,” beckoned the lady from the historical association
as the huddled masses buzzed in anticipation outside the screening room.
But they didn’t need to stay quiet for long,
for a technical difficulty had delayed the first showing.

After an hour, the patrons from the first screening emerged
smiling, chatting, seemingly relieved at the experience.
And in marched the green ticket holders, smiling, chatting,
in anticipation of being entertained by the Brighton Bar movie.

The co-host from the library welcomed the patrons 
and invited them to enjoy soda and popcorn.
Then the lights dimmed, and the movie came alive
to the cheers of the second screening crowd.

The moviegoers roared as familiar faces appeared on the screen.
They cheered as footage from years gone by rekindled memories.
They booed when the video reminded them of unwelcome changes
and applauded when it all ended.

They filed out with smiles across their aging faces.
Some repaired to nearby watering holes,
others simply drove home.
But one walked around the corner to the Brighton Bar.

“Hi, I just saw the documentary and realized
I never bought one of your t-shirts,” he said,
pointing to the display of items for sale behind the bar.
“Do you have a men’s size medium?”

A moment passed as the bartender spoke to the owner.
“Actually, we’re out of them and don’t know 
when we’ll be getting some more,” he told the man.
“What do you want to drink?”

The man waved him off and walked out to head home.
You know what to expect
but never sure what you’ll get
when you walk inside the Brighton Bar.






Copyright 2018, Charles A. Bruns

Sunday, November 18, 2018

The Bard at the Hard Rock

He needs no introduction. Sure enough, Bob Dylan did not get one last night. Neither did his band from him, for that matter. The audience at the Hard Rock Hotel and Casino in Atlantic City, in fact, did not get a hello or any acknowledgement from The Bard as he went through his 20-song setlist in under two hours. What they did get, however, was an exhibition of American music history from a 77-year-old legend on the latest leg of his Never Ending Tour, which began 30 years ago and someday will end.

As he always does, Bob breathed new life into his old songs, including “Like a Rolling Stone” and “Blowin’ in the Wind.” He also gave new life to his 21st century songs, including four selections from his most recent album of original material, Tempest. Nearly all the songs were performed slower and softer than originally recorded, often crooned, always in his unique voice. Bob covered many of his songs like it was a poetry recital, which makes some sense from a Nobel Prize in Literature recipient whose words are considered poetic. The sound and song selection, including “Make You Feel My Love” and “Love Sick,” at times made it feel a romantic evening for many in the crowd who still can find romance in spoken words.

When the last note of “All Along the Watchtower” faded away and the Etess Arena lights went on, Bob and his band were back on the bus for their next one-night stand in Springfield, Massachusetts, leaving everyone in Atlantic City to settle for the various artifacts from his career on display at the Hard Rock. Eventually, the tour will make its way to New York City for seven shows at the Beacon Theatre and its last stop in Philadelphia. If you haven’t seen The Bard and his band in concert, don’t you dare miss it. 


Wednesday, July 4, 2018

Family Family

Swish, swish, "What goes on out there?"
Some yelling, some tears, much heartache.

"Ah, a boy! How cute. He looks just like me."
More yelling, more tears, lots of heartache.

Disappointment. Embarrassment. Shame.

The boy goes out to sail.
The winds blow east, they blow west.
The clouds thicken, then pour rain.
He can barely stand. 
The forces knock him down
and he falls in the water.
Drenched, he climbs back onboard
naked, shivering, crying.

Over and over.
Disappointment. Embarrassment. Shame.
Family.

The boy grows into a man.
He can withstand the wind.
The rain bounces off his skin.
He jumps into the water
and climbs back onto the boat.
He dries himself off slowly
and looks up at the sun,
eyes closed, heart open.

Swish, swish, "What goes on out there?"
Some lullabies, some smiles, some joy.

"Ah, a boy! How cute! He looks just like me."
More lullabies, more smiles, lots of joy.

Satisfaction. Confidence. Pride.

The man goes out to sail.
He steers his boat calmly, deftly.
Protected from a passing shower,
he resumes enjoying his time at sea.
The sunset is beautiful 
and he admires the view of it.
Back ashore, he looks forward
to a restful, fulfilling evening.

Over and over.
Satisfaction. Confidence. Pride.
Family.

(Postscript:)
Mix some light tones into a dark color
and a medium shade appears.
Add brighter tones into a medium color
and a lighter hue appears.
Just like the family some people 
are born into.
Just like the family some people
create for their loved ones.

Copyright Charles Bruns, 2018