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Showing posts with label Travels with Charley. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Travels with Charley. Show all posts

Thursday, April 19, 2007

The Trip I Have Yet To Make

The Trip I have yet to make . . .

Many years ago, I decided I would take the train to Washington . . .

I love to ride on Amtrak. I love to talk with all the various people. Once I went from Tucson to Chicago. Every moment was an adventure, every moment I met someone new. And afterwards I coined the idea of traveling to Washington to see the museums, but my real reason was to meet the men on the Vietnam memorial . . .

You see I wanted to meet them face to face, I wanted to feel their pain at least what was left to feel. I wanted to feel the cold granite beneath my palm and leave something that would give me a sense of sacrifice . . . But what do I have that would suffice?

And then it dawned on me . . . A poem, by me, for their eyes only. I would write it, print it, frame it and then delete all signs of it from my computer, as though I’d never wrote it. And I would call it, “For Their Eyes, Only”.

And then maybe I could feel twinge of a sacrifice for them.

Dan Hanosh
Warriors and Wars

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And tears began to fill my eyes

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Tuesday, April 17, 2007

Watch what you say . . .

Watch What You Say . . .

Somehow everyone believes what you say is what you mean . . . So many of us, say things we don’t mean and yet things change.

Are there moments you would like to have back? Me too. Imus I’m sure does and yet would it matter?

Today John Rocker’s dad was killed . . . Life is so hard and then we say things, well stupid things and they get harder. Hatred Raises its ugly head and we’re doomed, doomed to repeat the same mistakes of so many.

We don’t forgive, we don’t forget . . . But I do.



Dan Hanosh

Dreams are yours to Share



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Monday, April 16, 2007

The Other Side of Alaskan Crab Fishing

The side no one talks about . . . Any one can be a crabber. All you have to do is agree to work eighteen hour days, when there’s fish or not work when there’s not . . . They don’t tell you in such terms that you’ll stay on the boat and not get paid during those periods. That you’ll most likely be working in the Alaskan winter, no you won’t see the sun.

You’ll sleep in a room with four others and shower in the communal shower/head. They’ll issue you work boots and clothes. Sure you don’t pay rent or for food, but then you don’t get off the boat either. There’s a store on board where you can by toiletries and snacks and things. But phone service is at most none existent and when you are able to get through, it’s about $1 to $1.50 per minute.

And maybe you might end up missing, as one worker has not been seen for over two months. All for $7.15 an hour and loads of overtime . . . That’s if they decide to pay the overtime, that was only, but they don’t want you to know that.

And Maybe there were other problems or not;
+ sueing Exxon, The Exxon Valdez
+ Maybe they were fined for taking too much crab
+ Maybe they were fined by the EPA for dumping fish remains
+ Maybe employees sued for not paying overtime
+ sued for injuries to a worker . . .

But if you like adventure, Alaska may just be the place . . .

Dan Hanosh
Warrior and Wars

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Saturday, April 14, 2007

What's With The One Liners . . .

You know what I'm talking about all those one stanza guys that say nothing . . .



"The World died when I was two, I was blue."



So what . . . Tell me something I didn't know. You can't do it with one line, you can't keep my interest without making a real effort. Do you call a white canvas with a line, art? Maybe, but I call it the Nike logo.



Over on another site, there is a poet who has filled the hard drive with so many one liners no one else can hardly get to the server . . . Is that what it's all about? Maybe if you just want to win the Ipod?  Not me.



I'm not suggesting that they throw him off, because I believe in our freedom of speach. I believe whole heartedly in artistic expression. But maybe that's stretching things don't you think?



Sounds a little like the silliness on MSNBC and now we get another Sports Show. My beef has never been with what was said or not said . . . It was the lack of loyalty of friends, colleagues and our supposed canidates. Not my canidates mind you. Never, never, ever . . . I want someone who can look past our differences, one that will draw us together.



Such as President Kennedy's Inaugural Address . . .



Now I now a few such men, John Edwards for one . . .





Dan Hanosh

Warriors and Wars





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Wednesday, May 17, 2006

Travels with Charley - Off Trail - Adjusting

The Brave Few – April 17, 2006





For personal reasons I have been off trail. Sometimes things creep into our plans and then we have to adjust. And so I am adjusting. Soon I hope to be back on my path, banging away at my keyboard. And honestly, sometimes my message just doesn’t seem worth the price and yet that’s not why I started sharing them. And all I can think to say is; I’ll be back.

Still, I’ve lost 10 lbs.

Well that’s enough for one day.

Remember to keep the sun at your back and the breeze in your face. Oh and don’t forget to come back each day so we can take this journey together.

days walking: 3
miles traveled: 3
yet to go: Still too many to count


Dan Hanosh
. . . Brave Men Never Die
They Live in the Hearts
and minds of others.

tags:


dhanosh's blogDreams Are Yours To ShareWarriors and Wars

Friday, May 12, 2006

Travels with Charley . . . May 12 2006 Nunan's Lobster Hut




I decided to head along the road and not long, I know where I’m going. It may take all day but my mouth is watering just thinking about it. Yea, I’m on a diet, but not this day . . .

I’m going to a little rustic shack, known to all as Nunan’s . . . Its full name is I think, , but nobody ever uses the Lobster Hut part. It’s always been, just Nunan’s. Just a wood clapboard shack with buoy’s and lobster traps stacked outside. Nunan’s was the end result of a Lobsterman’s daily toil, from the trap into the boil.

It’s a no frills place, built on stilts for whatever reason. The room is lined with rustic painted picnic tables with bright red and white checked plastic drop cloths. And on the walls are thousands of business cards from patrons over the years. Each night a long line sits outside as if it never moves, but truthfully they come and go all night long. When it’s my turn, I’m shown to a table.

I order the special, a pair of one and a quarter pound . The youthful waitress is dressed in jeans and T-shirt, brings me a piece of buttered bread, three pickles and a bag of potato chips. And before too long out comes my steaming red crustaceans served on a bar tray, belly up boys.

Well I always start with the legs. I don’t want to leave any of the succulent morsels for old Mr. Coon. I then break a claw and let the meat soak in the warm butter until the dish is full. And as if in prayer, I wait but a moment before diving in. When claws are gone, I pull the tail from the head and bend the tails shell flapper breaking it off and push the meat from its armor. My mouth is watering, for the best is yet to come.

I remove the dark thread of a mud vane and dunk the wide tattered end in the butter and take a bite. What heavenly joy! Gals there’s no need to worry, no body’s watching and if they are, they’re smiling with butter dripping down, also. Several bites and the tail is all but gone. I wipe my mouth and take a drink . . . But there’s still another.

Well that’s enough for one day.

Remember to keep the sun at your back and the breeze in your face. Oh and don’t forget to come back each day so we can take this journey together.

days walking: 3
miles traveled: 3
yet to go: Still too many to count



Dan Hanosh
. . . Brave Men Never Die
They Live in the Hearts
and minds of others.

tags:


dhanosh's blogDreams Are Yours To ShareWarriors and Wars

Thursday, May 11, 2006

Travels with Charley . . . May 11, 2006

The Brave Few . . .





Well it’s been 2 days since I started Walking Across America by treadmill. And you know it feels good. I really haven’t been anywhere, but I’m working toward my goal of being fit.

And you know, fitness is not just the body, the mind needs things also. To be happy we need to be love, friendships, goals, and self worth.

That reminds me, when I first moved into my neighborhood, people didn’t wave. Maybe it was the 9-11? But that’s just giving credence to not waving. Anyway every time I drove through my neighborhood, I waved to every one I passed. When I was walking I waved . . . And three years later, my neighborhood waves. One person can make a difference.

Anyway did you guess from yesterday code? Periodically, I’ll leave little, puzzles, clues and codes, so check back.

Goose Rocks Beach is one of my most favorite places. That barn like structure is actually, . A very beautiful Inn that sits right on the beach and I love staying there. I love waking up in the morning and having breakfast in the dinning room, before I go out to the sand and search for dollars, sand dollars.

The Inn is owned and operated by a mother and daughter team, Kristin and Marie. I believe they’ve owned it since the early seventies. And you know, one of my favorite Authors had stayed at the Inn?

So if you get a chance to go to Goose Rocks give them a wave and maybe stay a night or two.

And don’t forget to come back here each day and we can take this journey together.

days walking: 2
miles traveled: 2
yet to go: Still too many to count


Dan Hanosh
. . . Brave Men Never Die
They Live in the Hearts
and minds of others.

tags:


dhanosh's blogDreams Are Yours To ShareWarriors and Wars

Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Travels with Charley . . . May 10, 2006

The Brave Few – May 10, 2006



Well yesterday I started Walking Across America. And today I’m officially on a diet, so far so good . . . Join me if you dare?

If you’re keeping track, I walked one mile . . . Starting from no where and ending no where. Truthfully I haven’t decided where to put my marker. I can put it anywhere and now I can’t decide. I will soon, because I love to tell stories and they can only start with a location. I wonder, do I have to start on a coast or can I just . . . I guess I can do whatever. And so you figure out where I am, if you can?

As I walk today, I can feel the cool moist sand between my toes. A salty smell fills the air as a seagull calls out, Err … Err. A small girl looks up as I pass. She seems to be picking at the sand with a stick. In the distance, others are walking hand and hand. Its morning and the sun’s rays are on my left. In the bay, a seal bob’s for clams and sea worms. And on my right is a yellow house the size of a barn and people sit nonchalantly on the porch chairs. The wood screen door slams as someone exits the building. On the second floor, someone is stirring tomato juice with a piece of celery. An occasional car passes out front as guests head toward the beach.

Come and we can take this journey together.

miles traveled: 1
yet to go: Still too many to count


Dan Hanosh
. . . Brave Men Never Die
They Live in the Hearts
and minds of others.

tags:


dhanosh's blogDreams Are Yours To ShareWarriors and Wars

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

Travels with Charley . . . May 9, 2006

The Brave Few . . .



Today I start on a new journey. I call it Travels with Charley . . . Just like Steinbeck’s only I will do it from comforts of my basement. Unlike anything I have ever undertaken. Today I plan on . My goal is to get healthy and lose 50+ pounds.

I don’t plan on killing myself. Just a mile or two at first and then we’ll see how we progress. As we walk I will write my thoughts and stories for you. And together we will push each first up the hill, past another mile and another story.

Come and we can take this journey together.

miles traveled: 0
yet to go: Too many to count


Dan Hanosh
. . . Brave Men Never Die
They Live in the Hearts
and minds of others.

tags:


dhanosh's blogDreams Are Yours To ShareWarriors and Wars

Thursday, April 27, 2006

Our Parks Are In Danger

For Sale, hundred miles of deep rocky terrain, with river running through it, may be used for back packing, great views, call George at 1-needtosell.

from a policy gone astray. I’m sure everyone is tired of hearing about it. And I’m tired of writing it. We are entering serious budget straining times, cuts will be made. And it looks as though it was part of an overall conspiracy but when is ignorance a conspiracy . . . When you over spend on a war that didn’t have to be and now your only recourse is slash and burn budgeting.

and their rates will be higher the next time you visit. Services have been cut and maintenance has been seriously backlogged. The Park Service has to make do with the budget put forth by Mr. Bush and a Republican led Congress.

Seventy bipartisan members of Congress are backing a bill to put a volunteer check off on tax returns but this won’t happen for several years . . . And what about the mean time?

This writer feels the warm breeze blowing and the fish are stacking up along the shore . . . Don’t be too surprised to see Century 21 FOR SALE SIGNS POSTED on some of our greatest natural treasures . . . I wonder if I can pickup the Grand Lady at a good price?

Dan Hanosh
. . . Brave Men Never Die
They Live in the Hearts
and minds of others.

tags:


dhanosh's blogDreams Are Yours To ShareWarriors and Wars

Thursday, April 20, 2006

Travels with Charley . . . April 20, 2006

“Hey, let’s get going,” Joe yelled.
“Huh,” I said tucking my pillow tighter into my ear.

“The nights burning . . . and we’re still here.”
I was asleep and it felt so right, laying there. I tried to stretch and got stuck in one of those oh it feels so good moments.

“Come on, unless you’d rather sleep?”
Sleep in . . . I’d rather by shot.
“Heck no,” I yelled and jumped off the bed.

We were down the hall and into the elevators before Joe said another word.

“Man, she wants to see other people,” he said.
“Figures, they’re nothing but problems, at least you know while we’re still in paradise. Joe, they’re plenty of babes to be had.”

But I knew Joe was a wreck inside, that’s just the way the toughest learn to survive. The elevator doors opened to an empty first floor. Gee, I thought, where is everyone? Once outside I knew . . . Four lanes of traffic, headlights shinning bright, honking horns and hordes of screaming teenagers hanging out of cars and truck beds as far as I could see. All trying to get somewhere to imbibe, all trying to hookup for the night and the nightlife, and hungrily going nowhere. The nine o’clock traffic jam . . . Only in Daytona.

“How cool is this Joe?”
“Huh?”
Joe thought I was nuts . . . We climbed into the impala and waited our turn with the masses in the toxic night air.

“Where do you want to go?” asked Joe.
“Just follow the traffic. They seem to know where they’re going.”

As we got to the city limits, we realized the cars had no intention of ever stopping . . . They were cruising, up and down, never stopping. Joe took the next right and headed toward the beach. A cool breeze was blowing in from the ocean. Hidden back away from the road was a bar with Vegas night lights. We entered the door, and wondered what the big deal was all about. We sat down at one of the open tables. A waitress came over. She seemed very nice. She was dressed to kill, in a pair of tight shorts and a bikini top. We ordered Buds. Quickly she returned.

“That’ll be fifteen dollars,” she said.

I looked at Joe. Is this a clip joint? We didn’t want to make a scene in front of such a hot looker and so we reached into our pockets and pulled out the cash. And before she returned with the change the lights dimmed. Music, started blaring a local radio tune, and our waitress went up on stage as the DJ introduced her as the beautiful Heather. She slowly began to dance and gyrate on stage.

“I see,” we said together.
I was in love and for Joe, he quickly forgot about what’s her name. We stayed for one more round. And this time a different waitress served us before she too went on stage . But we were on tight money constraints and that night, I would write my first journal entry to be tagged with green . . . , oh so good.

Dan Hanosh
. . . Brave Men Never Die
They Live in the Hearts
and minds of others.

tags:


dhanosh's blogDreams Are Yours To ShareWarriors and Wars

Tuesday, April 18, 2006

Travels with Charley . . . April 18, 2006

. . . ?

From the first moment I learned to drive a car, I felt the need to travel. Let me set the back story a little. From birth to age eighteen, I had only been in two states . . . And shortly afterwards I visited eighteen states in two weeks and the gypsy in me was finally released. Over the years I did my best to quell my thirst, but of late, I’ve been traveling with exclusively with Charley.

I have a sort of unique philosophy. Good without bad, makes good seem diminished. Kind of like the story of Adam and Eve, sure you have everything you could ever want, but what about that apple . . . In the distance, its shinny crimson tempts you, its curve as shapely as any . . . Well you know where I’m going. And then Eve, let’s just say she must have been a willing accomplice . . . And rest is Biblical history.

And that’s the way I went at that first trip, all out at hundred miles an hour. We did one of those flurries only we headed to South Carolina first. Six states later and twenty-four hours, eight of which was a pouring down rain storm, Why? A girl friend . . . Not mine, need I say more. Women have this Amazonian attraction and before you know it you’re doing things a sane man would never do otherwise.

Anyway I spent two days sleeping in a grubby hotel. And that’s when I saw her . . . I was scarred for life, wrecked. She was so . . . Let’s just say, she could turn anyone to stone. I will never forget, though I can’t remember what she looked like. But in my Journal, I flagged the page with a , so as not to turn to that page mistakenly. Red tags are the highest color code of Bad.

Well on Monday we were gone like a flash. I couldn’t get out of Greenville fast enough. We drove all the way to Jeckel Island before stopping . . . Sure it’s nice, but really big deal. Then we headed down A1A, stopping at all the beaches on the way . . . You see, that’s probably why I can’t remember . . . Ya know . . . Today you young guys are lucky, we never had thongs . . . Heck girls my age were shy. Well, I must remember the good and bad and in this case all that comes to mind is a in a thong . . .

When we finally got to , we decided to stay awhile, resting up from my fright. St. Augustine is the oldest city in the U.S. and quickly we got into our routine, going to bed after two and waking up at noon, eating hamburgers at the local dinner and lounging at the beach or the pool until 5:00. Each night we went out for a bite and the rest of the time we quenched our thirsts at anyone of a number of watering holes until closing and the next day, we did it all over again. And after a week, we headed to Daytona.

I’ve got one word for , WoW . . . Ten miles of beautiful white sand beach, with everything that goes with it. We stayed at a high rise hotel on the beach. My buddy was on the phone to South Carolina immediately, what a waste of time . . . But it wasn’t long before I heard a loud explosion from next door. I was bored, tired of throwing m-80’s from our balcony into the pool from the third floor. So I went down the hall to the next room and banged on the door . . . A guy with hair past his shoulders opened the door and a fog bank of wild smoke exited into the hall. Hell I thought, why the heck, didn’t the sprinkles go off.

“What the hells going on in there?” . . . “What was that noise,” I asked. “We opened the hall door at the same time as the ocean sliding door.” . . . “You can’t read, huh? And you blew out the glass door?” “Yep.” “Cool,” I said.

When I went back to my room, Joe was still on the phone. “So much for Daytona,” I thought and went to bed.

Dan Hanosh
. . . Brave Men Never Die
They Live in the Hearts
and minds of others.

tags:


dhanosh's blogDreams Are Yours To ShareWarriors and Wars