My big brother, Fran, was born on November 23, 1942, the fourth of nine children.  From the beginning he was a standout.  He was outgoing, optomistic and curious about life.  As he grew up, his leadership in academics and athletics, along with his good manners, and easy way made him a celebrity in our hometown.  He could have been a character out of  a Norman Rockwell painting; America at it's best: hard-working, outgoing, witty, intelligent, handsome, and kind.  OK, so he wasn't perfect.  He was close enough to perfect for his family, and he was better than perfect to me.

the morning mist enveloped me

it seemed to whisper in my ear

holy is this place; walk reverently

beneath the green tree canopies

filtered with warming rays

of early day

upon the small Virginia rise

at the top of the crest therein lies

history written in human lives

as far as the eye could see,

are rolling emerald seas

adorned in sorrow pearls of white

tombstones they were

standing at attention

in perpetual declaration

of heroes now asleep

their stories silently speak

for generations yet to be

let not time diminish their generous offering

nor forget their greatness in answering the battle cry

these tender shoots of home-grown

American heros watered in tears and sown

into Arlington's sacred soil

by those who loved them so

let it never be said or known

that we forgot to remember to be thankful

for should our hearts grow callous and uncaring

the rocks in our place will shout to the heavens

of their sacrifice freely given

in defense of freedom for the living

they died.

let them never be forgotten

these glorious sons and daughters of ours

these precious seeds of liberty

copyright 1999

You can learn a lot about a neighborhood while walking your dog---early morning, noon and night, whether you feel like it or not, you have to walk your dog. Your puppy is happy, you both get healthy exercise and if you are smart you pay attention as the surrounding neighborhood gently unfolds its story to you.

When I would walk alone in Bay Ridge, people would shyly smile, as if to say hello or just ignore me. If they were familiar with me and liked me, they’d greet me like an old friend. Otherwise, I often felt invisible. But with my adorable Muppet of a dog at the end of the lease I found walking in Bay Ridge enjoyable, interesting and of course, friendlier. People assume because you have such a beautiful, sweet animal that you must be a trustworthy and nice person; I am. But it wasn’t my niceness that melted the ice with cautious Brooklynites; it was my gentle, lovable Fifi. The conversations, exchanges and leisurely walks prompted by her presence, showed me a tender side of Bay Ridge that most non-dog owners will never know.

Bay Ridge, on the lower west side of Brooklyn resembles a small village from yesteryear. Its quaint row houses, older apartment buildings and shops teem with people of diverse ethnicity. Brooklyn is known for its rich contribution to the entertainment industry and all things creative. Even today it is easy to imagine hopeful, young artists, singers and musicians gracing the streets of long ago with their happy auditions.

Between jobs in NYC, I would stay with my daughter in Bay Ridge. Over the years I’ve enjoyed all four seasons in Bay Ridge and I have to say spring time is my favorite. The air, cooled by the water of the East River, can require a coat even in May; frequent rain showers call for an umbrella. Still, to me, spring is loveliest.

Spring awakens the optimist in me, putting a lilt in my step and a song on my lips. Shedding the heavy gray that is winter is cathartic for one’s soul. Dusty dreams seem possible again and the expectation of good comes fully alive. Just when you think you can’t endure one more cold, slushy, day of winter, spring blooms.

Like a surprise gift left on your steps over night, spring is discovered just outside your door. The air is clean and sweet and the warming rays of early sun lure hiding bulbs to reach up through the soil and bloom. Crocuses, tulips, hyacinths; they all have their order of arrival, spreading heady perfume that rivals that of designer origin on Madison Ave. In a matter of days naked trees don chartreuse green that no fashion house could replicate. It is truly a magical time.

As if on cue, the whole city comes outside again. The once abandoned streets fill up with parents pushing children in strollers, kids on their bikes, dog walkers and the elderly whose joy is finding snow less, ice less sidewalks for the journey to market. The joy is tangible and visible on so many faces is the truth that life is worth living.

One of the most pleasant aspects of spring is the return of the sidewalk cafes. I love them. With just a smattering of chairs and tables, and a few aromatic flower filled pots, Bay Ridge sidewalks become a welcoming space where friends and neighbors renew acquaintances, lovers sit staring at one another, neglecting their gourmet fare, and older patrons sit, as if holding court, watching the parade of life walk by. With just a slight smile these elders offer wordless greetings with an approving nod.

At my favorite cafe they allow me to bring my dog. It is my favorite Brooklyn treat. I can relax outside under the generous Elm tree and enjoy marvelous authentic Italian fare, with my puppy contentedly at my feet. Any passerby is apt to say hello and who knows, become my next new friend. It is quintessential New York, reminiscent of the days of Sinatra, Ella Fitzgerald and REAL music. Should God smile on you and allow you to visit Bay Ridge I highly recommend the Paneanpico at 93^rd St. and 3^rd Ave.

They open early for breakfast and close late. Serving real, delicious, hot coffee, they make you forget that Starbucks is just across the street. Inside a counter runs the length of the store with a display case that would make any true Italian Mamma beam with pride. It is filled to the brim with pastries, sandwiches, pasta salads, meat, salads, cheeses and a friendly staff that is happy you came to dine. La Dolce Vita!

I also love the pizza places. Promptly at eleven in the morning they open their windows to the street and serve customers in walk up fashion. If you bring your dog they will accommodate with a paper bowl of water to refresh her. With so many city benches around, you can consume your slice of Italian heaven while watching interesting groups of neighbors stroll by. With my diet coke in hand and delicious pizza, my puppy and I would do just that; sit and enjoy life, NYC style. I love this city. Life is good.

One particular day I noticed several new cafes had opened. Like all good Bay Ridge neighbors, I would go in and patronize the new business, welcome them to the neighborhood and encourage them in their new born dream. It is great fun; a part of America I heartily celebrate--watching my fellow Americans work their dreams. Their hope, creativity and risk taking are highly contagious. Those visits to neighbor businesses invigorated my confidence for my projects. It is America as it was meant to be---energizing, creative and hopeful for the future.

On one particular warm spring evening in May, I noticed that several of the new Café’s were open but their Shoppe’s didn't offer any outside seating. Ever the curious observer, I inquired as to why not. Seemed like a logical thing to do. Surely the business it would generate would override the small expense of a couple outside tables, chairs and fencing borders. So I asked.

I had to ask the owner of the cafe to repeat himself when he answered my question as to why he had not taken advantage of the sidewalk space in front of his store. He said, and I quote, "I can't afford it". I know my eyes must have betrayed my lack of understanding because he went on to explain that to place even one table out on the sidewalk would cost him thousands of dollars.

Before applying for a license, he would have to hire someone to draw up plans per city specs, purchase insurance for the space, pay a fee of over 500 and attend meetings where the city council would quiz him and vote on his request. Then, starting at $1700.for a mere 75 sq. ft. he would pay yearly for the privilege for using the sidewalk in front of his already overtaxed, over regulated establishment. I checked his facts out on NYC.gov, under licenses for side walk cafes.

There aren't enough obstacles a new business must hurdle, the NYC city government just adds on more with yet another mountain of fees and regulations to hinder the dreamer’s road to success. If a entrepreneur can outlast the resistance to his enterprise that NYC taxes, ordinances, fees, regulations and fines pile on, well good for him; more money for the city. But if he buckles under the weight and fails, well…NEXT! Someone else with a new or similar dream will step in and attempt to do what he couldn’t; the impossible.

With the death of that man’s dream, his family suffers, he loses his time, investment and joy. The storefront that housed his dream may remain empty for months, even a year and locals are denied the joy of his gift. All the while, the voracious appetite of NYC government for fees and taxes grows like a fungus in summer. It’s sad, outrageous and quite frankly, UN-American.

When did city governments become so powerful? When did they get such a stranglehold on the finances and creativity of dreamers (producers)? Seems to me that with of all the things a city government can do with its time and resources, making life tougher for struggling entrepreneurs who create needed products and jobs, shouldn't be one of them.

On my last year working in NY, I took a job that required I live on-site in Rye. Those were some very nice digs. Of course I was responsible for those digs and their upkeep. Still, what a way to work; surrounded by the finer things in life. For almost the entire year of 2006 I didn't even visit Brooklyn. If absence makes the heart grown fonder, absence from Bay Ridge also saved me $3000 in city taxes. Those taxes would have been in addition to my NY state and federal taxes! Unbelievable!

Trust me the roads in Rye are far superior to those of Brooklyn, the traffic less, congestion less and the train service cleaner and more reliable. This is in no disrespect to Brooklynites. I am a # 1 fan. It is an observation that makes me think, perhaps, like the proverbial frog sitting in slowly heated water, the lovable residents of Bay Ridge have morphed from compliant citizens to abused victims---victims of politicians who refuse to stop and consider the burdens they are piling onto the backs of some of America's finest citizens.

Another morning while walking my dog along 84th St, something curious caught my eye---a meter maid was going through the trash cans of the neighbors. It was then I noticed every trash barrel had its address marked prominently on its front. I thought, 'how smart, in case it blows away or gets knocked into the street passersby will know where it belongs.' Yeah right! Naïve city dweller I was, with much to learn.

I happened to remark to another neighbor as to how clever I thought it was to put ones address on the barrels. She looked at me in utter disbelief and laughed right in my face, saying, "Are you kidding?" That woman is checking to make sure they recycled. If they didn't separate their trash, rinse it out, they get a ticket, written to and placed in the mailbox of the address marked on the trash barrel!" I couldn't believe it. How intrusive can government get? This is trash I'm talking about, private citizen's smelly trash. Doesn't that seem just a little out there? I don’t mind recycling, but tickets? Is there anywhere the government isn’t sticking its nose? Is this really what our founding fathers had in mind?

The prohibitive cost of parking tickets is just another fun game in the life of New Yorker’s. Alternate street parking to accommodate street cleaning was one slap of a wake up call to this newcomer. It cost plenty. When visiting my daughter’s upper eastside Manhattan apartment I got several tickets. First time, coming from a small town, I never looked up to read city signs that were vast in number, listing all the exceptions to the times and use of meters. Who looked? It was late, I was tired. I simply made sure I fed the meter at correct intervals. No one mentioned the assortment of variables and exemptions to the rules. To avoid tickets you have to stay consistently vigilant about holidays, parade routes, construction etc. Fines, fees, regulations! It’s like living in the game of Monopoly, without the chance of winning. You know, who beats city hall? With your first high end ticket, you realize you are not in Kansas anymore!

My last year in NYC, I remember the local radio programs discussing the ‘idea’ of the mayor to keep traffic in the financial district to a minimum by charging a toll of eight dollars per car, per day. Ha! That went over big. What New Yorkers pay for monthly parking in the city rivals what the average American elsewhere pays for rent or a mortgage. It seems the taxing officials are convinced that there is no tipping point when it comes to soaking the locals. What has happened to us? When did we allow over taxation, over regulation and government intrusion to over ride our private lives? We, as a people, have come full circle. We are back at square one with home-grown elitists, whose lives will never be affected by the edicts they slam down, dictating very minor details in the lives of the average citizens. Tea, anyone? Anyone?

Seems to me, hard working taxpayers are financing their own slavery! The money to fund this lunacy is coming from us and as long as we allow this chicanery to continue and keep voting in the same untrustworthy users, this is where we will be---indentured slaves to politicians drunk on acquiring power and spending our money to buy off entitlement hungry voting blocks! . Tea, anyone? Anyone?

Newcomers to America, are just grateful for the opportunity to try their dreams. They aren’t necessarily well versed on the constitution and all the rights it affords citizens. Perhaps that is why they meekly succumb to the over-reach of government. But we native citizens should know better and require more of those we entrust with public office. For years we have experienced a decent economy but now with the current debacle, we are facing very unpleasant and dangerous consequences of decades from irresponsible spending and glutted entitlement programs. The golden goose is pooped! If we as citizens don’t stand up and demand accountability and elimination of waste, we will loose the goose and future golden opportunities for our children and other dreamers whose hearts will draw them to us.

As a young person I never gave much thought to the health of the economy. I had only one course on economics throughout my education and that was in High School. I, like millions of Americans, thought the adults would take good care of that. Later I was busy raising kids, working and running a house. I never dreamed our American way of life would be plundered by our own government. I made decisions about current events and politicians based on the sound bytes of T.V. and the ‘reporting lite’ of biased newspapers. In the Gospel of John, this is referred to as superficial judgment and the Lord admonishes us to not judge anything superficially, without all the facts. “Be honest in your judgment and do not decide at a glance. (superficially and by appearances); but judge fairly and righteously. John 7:24. Well, I was missing most of the honest facts when I relied upon biased networks and newspapers to furnish me with facts with which to assess current events and the workings of Washington. I learned in mid-life, that the precious gift of freedom will always require diligence and tenacity of spirit on the part of all we citizens. We must do our part to maintain its vibrancy and integrite. The military may win freedom but it is only the citizenry that is responsible and accountable to speak out the truth, even when inconvenient and to contribute to sphere of influence in daily life and in the voting booth.

In 1990, I found Rush! I woke up and grew up! He didn’t teach me what to think, he taught me how to listen, read and think for myself! Even before Rush, I was weary of the three big networks and their treatment of my nation, President Reagan, my fellow citizens in the military and my faith. In my humble opinion, I do believe I am still entitled to express that in my country, I see the media as not only complicit in the undermining of our nation, in its present problems but an accessory to the fact. They are using our airwaves to advance their political agenda in the name of objective journalism.

In 2003, I found Mark Levin’s voice shouting out over the east river into my car radio via WABC radio in Manhattan. It was cathartic and encouraging to hear another, funny, witty voice join that of Rush and Sean’s on NYC airwaves. Now I was getting an education in how to research, pay attention and voice my displeasure with the arrogance of Washington. The voices of talk finally provided the leadership sadly missing in D.C. and the impetus needed for Americans to wake up and refuse to be robbed of the heritage so many have died to achieve.

Talk has changed my life and I have never looked back. I research items for myself. I listen with guarded ear and contact my representatives when I see legislation that is contrary to the basic tenets of our constitution. If we allow the frame of reference, the constitution, to be diminished or diluted from its original intent, to protect us from Government over reach, then what compass shall we use to guide us through turbulent times and challenges to our precious freedoms? Who will decide what is right and good for us---the politburo of Washington?

“In the beginning, God created….” Nothing God recorded in scripture is incidental. Created is the fifth word in scriptures and denotes its significance to God and His intent for us. Later in speaking of man, scripture says, ‘Let us create man in Our Image and likeness.’ Free will and creativity are a huge part of that image. God gave us the ability to study our surroundings, configure solutions and find answers. He gave us authority over earth, to dress it and have dominion over all creatures, (not other humans) to oversee a productive and wholesome environment. It is free will and creativity that separates us from the rest of creation. Striving to create inventions that improve and ease work, to produce an abundant food supply, medicines, that eliminate diseases, products that improve daily life and even that of the world, is what makes us like most like Him.

Unlike any before us, our relatively young nation has fostered an atmosphere for dreamers who are willing to take the risks, work hard and sacrifice to attain success. The reward most seek isn’t domination of others but the improvement of life for themselves, their loved ones and ultimately society. Initiative, drive and achievement used to be rewarded and celebrated with support and admiration of one’s countrymen and government. Tax incentives, research provided by government agencies for international commerce along with programs to encourage independent entrepreneurs has been replaced by a climate barely tolerant of capital gains, profit and individual success---while simultaneously raiding the revenue coffers, in the name of fees, regulations and ‘newly leveled taxes’.

“High tide lifts all boats”, said President Kennedy. And the high tide of freedom and free commerce has lifted not only Americans but world markets. Our freedoms have generated an unprecedented amount of copyrights, inventions, intellectual property and medicines that have lengthened lives, improved health and longevity. These achievements are catalyst to impoverished nations to follow suite, improving life and opportunities for their people.

The American dream is not just for us. I don’t know any American who seeks only to improve our standard of living. Our actions in the face of disasters around the world are testimony to our longing to help others and raise the circumstances for all mankind. The documentation of private giving from Americans to overseas charities is sturdy testament to that truth. We are a unique nation with spirit, drive and compassion. We are usually the first at a disaster scene with enormous amounts of aid. We long to see the world be as us; free, educated and prosperous. I love my nation. I love my way of life. I am not alone. The vast majority of Americans are grateful for all they have and the opportunity to work hard to achieve their dreams. They are thankful for those who protect us and they are bonded to the tenets of our founding documents.

The American Dream isn’t about houses, wealth and cars, those are the result of the dream pursed. The dream is freedom to work one’s gifts, talents and abilities, to market them, to generate honest income and provide financial substance for oneself and family. It’s about becoming all God created the individual to be as he works to express the genius of God invested in his talents and abilities. Americans strive to discover better ways of living, better solutions for business, more goods and services that will bless our world. We look to Government to defend and protect our right to pursue dreams with liberty and in peace. Now who will protect us when our Government is the threat to those very freedoms? How do we constitutionally stand down unauthorized and unwanted regulated health care, government seizing of private car companies, banks and the levying of oppressive taxes?

I believe America’s greatest contribution to the world is its genuine passion for dreams and the celebration of living. Compare the photos of children from around the world with that of most American children and you can see the tangible difference between our kids and those of other developed nations. There is tangible joy and hope that radiates from American faces. They have faith in their futures because of what we have taught them. By precept and example we have shown them it is godly and right to believe in dreams and to live one’s life fully, gratefully. We have taught them to believe that dreams do come true and that everyone, if they work hard, can get their chance to hit a home run in their given careers, endeavors and callings. We have taught them that it is the goodness of God that sowed that passion into our hearts. This is the true American dream, the freedom to dream, to try, to fail, to try again; to love and live life from our heart, with fun and enthusiasm. The very word enthusiasm in the Greek means God at work within. Kids naturally believe, unless events in life sour them on the vision of life lived happily. How best do we teach this to our children? By example!

Back in the early nineties I read a short article penned by Raisa Gorbachev. She wrote of how Americans don’t want war, they simply want a house of their own where they reign as sole ruler; not government. I agree. But more importantly, Americans want and need their freedom more than the air they breathe. Without freedom, the house becomes a prison and the dream a nightmare controlled by cold, unfeeling government edicts that trample the human spirit in its path.

American is a haven of freedom, imperfect, but the best there is in this world, where the human spirit soars to new heights; dreaming, creating, producing and developing the deposits of glory placed within their hearts by God. These gifts are sent by God in reply to prayers whispered by those who need answers, solutions, knowledge and help in this life. To bind freedom of choice and pursuit of happiness is to choke off God’s inherent creative energy living in the heart of man. To punish achievement, to hinder dreams is evil and very much unlike the God who granted us His wisdom and grace to be who we are; Americans, Dreamers, Believers who embrace life for the gift that it is. Our nation is the incubator for seeds of His goodness to blossom forth and to be harvested in new and better inventions, medicines, knowledge and arts for our generation and those to come.

So as I watch the coup taking place in D.C.; as I watch the will of Americans trampled by political greed and power grabbing, I pray and ask God ‘what will it take to turn this right? What will it take to bring our nation out from under this occupation it which it finds itself?’

Never as a kid, listening to my nuns describe communist takeovers of third world countries, did I think I would see a similar undermining of our nation in my lifetime. Never! But here we are and my prayer is “God please, raise up wisdom filled leaders who will lead us in standing down this Goliath of government, from bullying we, the people.”

We must remember ( and owe it to all who died to defend us) and defend who we are, who we will always be; Americans forged from resilient stock, whose hearts value freedom more than life. We the people must insist that our elections be free from fraud and manipulation. We must enforce laws concerning tampering with election results in every election, federal, state and city. Our vote is our voice and we, the people are the only ones who can make sure that our voice is honored by our Government. We must insist our politicians be accountable to us or face recall. We must use every legal, constitutional process available to dismantle this ideological takeover that is threatening to kill our way of life and our joy, our American Dream.

Generations before us have fought long, heart-breaking wars and worked in daunting conditions to build the nation they presented us. For them, out of respect for their sacrifices, for our children and generations to come, we must faithfully do our part and apply all legal and godly pressure possible to protect and ensure this gift of America for centuries to come. We are Americans. Our destiny is not to succumb to bullies; within or without. Our destiny is to be that ‘shining city on a hill’ holding out truth to an unstable world, that the dream and hunger for freedom is a godly desire, an excellent dream, worthy of defending; worthy of protecting with our very lives if necessary.

May God bless and resurrect America to her finest hour. May God bless us with the stamina, wisdom and vision to do our part as co-laborers with Him in resuscitating our Republic. For in Truth, America was His dream from the beginning.

And a soldier who died in the Vietnam War was honored only by a makeshift wooden sign hanging from a rusting baseball backstop.

Fran Driscoll was a three sport star and finished his career at AHS with eight letters. The recipient of the Howard O'Hare Award in 1960, Fran is also a member of the AAFHOF. Fran was instrumental in two gridiron victories over North Attleboro.

In basketball, Fran finished his career as the school's 6th all time leading scorer with 566 points. After starring in the 13-3 regular season in 1960, Fran went on a tear in the Tech tourney with 17 points and 15 rebounds in a first round victory over Boston Latin followed by 18 points and 14 rebounds in the quarter-final loss to Somerville.

A member of the Boston Record American All Scholastic 1st Team in 1960, Fran was also named as a unanimous selection to the coaches All BCL team for two years. An outstanding pitcher and centerfielder in baseball Fran went 5-2 his senior year with an ERA of 2.04 as he threw shut outs in his final two games.

Awarded a scholarship to Brown University Fran earned three letters in basketball plus two more in baseball Captain of the basketball team his senior year, Franny averaged 13.6 ppg and was awarded the prestigious J. Richmond Fales Trophy which is awarded to "the basketball player who through sportsmanship, performance and influence has contributed the most to the sport at Brown."

As a pilot of an F-14D Aircraft in the U.S. Air force, Fran was forced to eject from his plane upon return to Thailand from a combat mission in Vietnam in 1968. His tragic death marked the loss of one of the finest young men the city has ever known. Franny is survived by his parents, Josephine and George Driscoll plus seven of his eight brothers and sisters.

Special thanks to my friend Mark Levin for his passionate commitment to and defense of our military.  While our brave men and women hold their posts around the world, Mark rallies American patriots from all walks of life to stand up and show to our armed forces the respect they so richly deserve.  Since 2003 I have listened to Mark on WABC radio and wabcradio.com as he provokes us to remember these good men and women with genuine, heartfelt gratitude.

Through his brilliant teaching and expounding of the Constitution, Mark daily educates his audience to truly understand and cherish this God-inspired founding document. This republic, the envy of all freedom lovers around the world, exists at a great price.  Mark is one man who will not let that be forgotten.

As for me personally, I thank you, Mark, for allowing me to speak freely of my brother's service and sacrifice on your show. The appreciation and gratitude that was withheld by my nation during the Viet Nam War diminished my brother's heroism.  Many times I felt his service had been brushed aside by my country as if the loss of him held no value.  Your show, with the kindness and respect you extend to the families of military personnel, restored my right to be proud of my brother's contribution to the cause of freedom. The dark cloud of the late sixties that hung over me concerning my brother's death has finally lifted.  For that Mark, I am forever grateful!

``Fran was a role model for all students. After college he served with the U.S. Air Force as a first lieutenant and pilot with the 435th Tactical Fighter Squadron. He served during the Vietnam War and was killed on Feb. 29, 1968, at the age of 26. Fran (who flew 67 missions) was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Air Medal with seven oak leaf clusters.'' At the time, Birch was recommending that one of the city's new middle schools be named in Driscoll's memory. The city -- which had named the Nickerson Playground ballfield for Driscoll -- passed on the opportunity, but Driscoll's fame appears insured.

I love this nation and the glory that shines

in its small towns, abundant cities, hamlets by seaside

where streets sing of dreams so grand

wrapped in the heart of the  common man

talents, gifts, abilities hidden

until desire stirs the vision

to create and achieve gifts for the living

dreamers they are, who believe they’ll seize

answers to puzzles, questions, impossibilities

inventions, medicines and solutions to bloom

to create life better than we ever knew

always more to discover, more wonders to unearth

in lifting mankind and his world to a higher plane of worth

dignity and blessing bequeath creativity

Americans reach into eternity

building a legacy of faith, hope, and love

and so it goes in the land of liberty

each generation contributes its unique piece

to the mystery puzzle

producing new products and  mining answers

expressions of His love here in America

dreams ignite lead to desires granted

create new heights as joy unfolds

living the true American dream bold

and grateful

excerpt from ‘His Fingerprints in Summer’ 2010

Coming from south Jersey early one spring morning, traveling north on 95, I, along with thousands of my fellow Americans from the surrounding Jersey area, greeted the dawn as it bloomed in the eastern sky.  After a late night audition, for a position as chef for a family, I was returning to fetch my terrier-poodle from the dog nanny.  Yep, in NYC they have dog nannies.  Given the demands of life, the long commutes and time constraints of moving about in NYC, dog nannies provide a valid, valuable service.

I seldom enter NYC via car in the morning. There are enough challenges in life without seeking more.  However, my schedule required I retrieve my dog and get on the road before noon.  So here I was, armed with a hot steamy cup of Dunkin Donut coffee, to ward off any residual sleepiness, driving into the mother of all morning commutes in NYC.   As I neared the off ramps for Newark airport, the traffic, which until now had moved quite swimmingly along, began to slow.  The blinking of red tail lights starting to collect in front of me, announced a change in speed.  My heretofore, easy jaunt into the city was coming to a numbing crawl.

I really love to drive; always have.  Driving gives me time to think, uninterrupted by others needs, I can listen to my music, sing if I want, or listen to talk radio, which helps me feel connected to my world.  I am happily entertained. My music, radio programs, etc. diffuse tension when the inevitable, unexpected causes a traffic delay. My healthy distractions make an otherwise frustrating congested drive, peace filled. 

I love driving in Manhattan.  As I play ‘my’ music, I can watch life from a quiet and comfortable vantage point. Feeling like a seasoned commuter that morning, I consulted my mapped out route to my destination, 15^th and Park Ave. Surely I had covered all the bases.  I had money for the tolls, phone speed dialed to alert the nanny when close, payment for Nanny in an envelope and treats for my pup waiting on the back seat.  

Welcome to sliceothepie.com.

This web-page is devoted to all good things American! What a country! We are a nation abounding with wonderful opportunities. Success may not be automatic or even guaranteed; all the same, no where else is success so readily available. I have worked since I was twelve. However, only now am I finding the 'me' He ordained to be. I wish someone could have counseled me early in life on how to develop and identify my true giftings and talents. I console myself that it's never too late. Those words are truer here in the United States than anywhere else on earth. With a healthy work ethic and a heaping of stick-to-itive-ness I have a great shot at living my dreams. I heartily encourage you to decide what kind of Pie (life) you are hungry for, do your research, make and follow your plan, learn from those who have obtained the dream and follow their lead. 

Remember, it takes time and elbow grease (real work) to construct a truly delicious (life) pie worthy of (living) eating. First gather together the finest ingredients. Prepare them according to (your plan) recipe. Decide what filling you would enjoy and just how big a pie you desire. Those variables will determine what will be required of you to successfully work the process. The good news is that you get to choose! So dream your dreams! Choose the process that will produce success and go for it! It is all up to YOU! Remember, if you give yourself wholeheartedly to the production of the pie, the taste and experience will be most rewarding. So put on your apron, turn on some upbeat tunes and get to baking your own, unique sliceothepie. Happy Eating!