Band of Brothers

There's a bond so special between soldiers in combat that they call themselves brothers. I wouldn't go so far as to call any television news crew my brother but if I needed a tripod to borrow, St. Louis Chief Photographer Billy McCormick at CBS-4 KMOV would be my brother. Billy came to my rescue out of sheer camaraderie and trust this weekend.

First off, Billy woke up in the middle of the night to a call from an angry Assignment Editor not to keen on helping a Yank out. As mentioned, I was hemorrhaging for a tripod because United lost mine in route from D.C., a common company hazard for a traveling freelancer.

On the weekends, all rental and production houses are closed in St. Louis, but having worked at a CBS affiliate in NY for 12 years, odds were good that the Chief Photographer would sympathize with my plight. And Billy did.

This church-going father of three is deserving of a huge bonus for coming to my rescue, despite not needing his tripod after all. United Airlines came through around 2 am dropping off my beloved Miller sticks just in time for me to catch a few winks before the big assignment. But had they not, I found peace of mind and comfort knowing Billy's tripod would do the trick.

Billy, might you be reading, from one ENG photog to another, you give the business a good name, my friend. Might you ever need the same in New York, I'm there for ya.

The Bible Belt Knows Where My Tripod Is

As fate would have it, everything "met me in St. Louis" except my tripod. Yes, my tripod. A gold plated gem worth as much as a used SUV. It's immensely important that I shoot a documentary with a tripod, no professional would be caught dead without one.

Somewhere between Dulles, St. Louis and the ozone, my tripod took a turn without me, and now, here I am, stuck in a hotel on the outskirts of town, checking baggage claim every hour on the hour, worrying myself to death rather than seeing beautiful downtown St. Louis. Oh, the humanity!

This isn't your everyday tripod where I could easily just rush to a local Kmart and grab a spare. Oh no. This is a tripod worth many thousands of dollars and yes, toting expensive gear around the planet gives me an ulcer but I have no choice. I go where the work is and tomorrow it's along the Mississippi and Missouri river - that is if I get my tripod back tonight. If not, I'm in big trouble -as is the airline carrier.

This ordeal got me grunting up a storm in the airport terminal and on the bus to my hotel. Within minutes 3 sweet locals responded with wide-eyed optimism to help ease my worries. "Don't you worry sweetie, put your trust in God. Don't worry, he'll find it. God knows where it is, he won't let you down," and on and on.

Is this how the Midwest handles a crisis? They pray? Just the same I'd rather alert the proper authorities, make some contingency plans with a local network affiliate and order a shot of lemoncello to calm my nerves. Then I'll pray....

"Meet Me in St. Louis"

I'm off to Minneapolis in a couple hours for a gig just south of St. Louis. If time permits I'll get acquainted with the Central West End, an chic urban area with many beautiful turn-of-the-century buildings, art galleries, antique shops and bookstores. If the weather is warm, maybe I'll catch a relaxing afternoon of people-watching at an outdoor cafe enjoying fusion cuisine. Other historical sites of interest include the Cathedral Basilica with the world's largest collection of mosaic art and the Ulysses S. Grant National Historic Site and the Lewis and Clark museum. First though, I have to arrive and with today's windy weather and frequent airplane delays, I might be seeing more of the airport than anything else. In case that happens I know I can still take in the Gateway Arch, the stainless-steel structure with a 4 minute tram ride to the top for a 30-mile panoramic view of the city. The Gateway to the West.

Tale of Two Cities in a Young Republic

They have funny names like Aalto, Hanna, and Jaani, they eat and drink funny foods like tar herring, reindeer meat and fresh berry cocktails, they bath in steaming hot saunas: they are the Finns. Check out my most recent article, "A Tale of Two Cities in A New Republic" online now at GoNomad.com then book your next trip to Finland before oil prices go any higher.

Quick Travel Montage

Here's a sample montage of some fabulous countries I've been lucky enough to work in last year. I just read that several airlines (starting with Delta) will charge an extra $25 for luggage beyond one bag, beginning May 1st. This worries me because when I travel, it's never lightly. Last year when I flew to Italy I carted 18 bags alone. You can imagine how costly that was for the production team that hired me. I'm always envious of those who can tuck a toothbrush in their back pocket and extra socks under their cap and be on their way, but never enough to quit what I'm doing!

King Corn Documentary

Raising animals and growing crops for local food consumption is hard work. Or, at least it used to be. As a kid, I helped out my parents with a huge strawberry field, a couple pig pens, a bunch of chickens coups and a football field size garden.

But tonight, I watched a documentary that sheds light on the dangerous practices of big industrial farming and modified corn growing. The movie is called "King Corn" and it's truly disturbing. It shows how pervasive modified corn is in our everyday diet like high fructose corn syrup and meat consumption. It shows the effect that modified corn is having on our health, environment and cattle supply. It raises questions about farm subsidy programs and why our government would help contribute to a growing epidemic of obesity by helping farmers profit (just barely) from this cheap alternative to grass and wheat.

Worse yet is the treatment of the penned up animals. The biggest agri-business farms are guilty of force feeding animals with modified corn to fatten them up quicker. Cows are also kept in crowded conditions and given a genetically engineered growth hormone called rBGH (recombinant bovine growth hormone) to force cows to increase milk production by 15%. While the FDA approves of it here the European Union and Canada have banned it. Studies show it has detrimental side effects like painful udder infections, lesions of the knee and hoof problems.

Corn is also used in paint, paper, cosmetics, tires, fuel, plastics, textiles, explosives, and wallboard.

To find alternatives and help support the little organic farms, check out a site called "Sustainable Table" and the award-winning Meatrix movies.

West Side Favorites

NYC is full of happening little restaurants and eateries and farmers markets I love to scour. Especially special are smaller, independently owned shops with off-beat dishes at plebian prices. Based on friend's advice or a travel guide (not just any travel guide), I say hello to the owners, take a few photos and declare the place fit for return - if it tickles the tastebuds. Dining isn't just a quick nice meal, check-please and then a dash for the door. Extra thought goes into picking a place in Manhattan or Brooklyn because who knows when I'll get the chance to come back.

So I paved my way through the upper West Side on Wednesday morning looking for a few friends' favorites. I found everything I was looking for. First up, a tiny treasure called the Silver Moon Bakery at 2740 Broadway @ 105 Street. Sylvie gave me this tip. The rainy day didn't dampen the smell of breakfast muffins, brioches & croissants sitting in the window so I rushed in for a Bavarian pretzel and an artisan baguette for the road.

The place was out of OJ so I washed down everything with a juicer from Juice Generation next door. Health conscience Fashionistas were lined up for wheat grass power shots, soy and whey protein power bars, gourmet sandwiches and organic soups. This was not my typical Tropicana and it took several fresh squeezed grapefruit, pears and ginger root for my Pink Citrus C to blend. I slurped in 2500% of the recommended daily allowance of vitamin C.

When my friend Angela is feeling lofty she brunches at Barney Greengrass. Not the celebrity-rich hotspot in LA but the west side institution, circa 1908, at 541 Amsterdam Ave. The gritty little Jewish-American tradition has the nicest service and supposedly the best Sturgeon and Kippered Salmon in NYC. Celebrities like Alfred Hitchcock used to "order ten pounds of "fatty" sturgeon & have it flown to Hollywood to help him maintain his shape."

Angela mentioned Barney Greengrass during dinner at a new place called Community Food and Juice at 2893 Broadway. This place is all about Green but in a non- conspicuous way. Unless you read their website you'd never know that your entrees are prepped in an energy-saving kitchen or the tables and chairs are made out of reclaimed wood. When I asked for water our cheerful waitress brought us filtered H2O straight from the tap, no plastic here. I had an intense Italian pumpkin ravioli dish in memory of my days in Rome last November. It measured up nicely.

Appetizers at Telepan

While in the city this week Sylvie offered to treat me to appetizers and drinks at Telepan. Sylvie Bigar is a New York-based freelance writer who specializes in food and travel and writes for an endless list of sites like Time Out NY, The New York Times, New York Resident, Gayot.com, Insatiable Critic and Passport magazine. I met Sylvie during a trip to France last year. She's a fantastic writer with a discriminating palette for pastry shops, house smoked brook trout and all things French. I trusted Sylvie completely to pick a place with style, comfort, ambiance and, oh yes, great food. Telepan was it - a funky, well-reviewed restaurant on the West Side (72 W 69th St, btwn Columbus Ave & CPW) whose works of art (dishes) are creatively served up on dilapidated floor boards. The chef peaked out from the kitchen to say hello to Sylvie and offered us some appetizers as starters. I can't quite remember the ingredients of the mini pizza slice or the dainty cup of pumpkin soup because I scarfed it down before taking notes. Someday, I'd love to cover restaurant hopping in Manhattan with camera in hand and a fork in the left. Truly, a profession too cool for words.

A Weekend of Irish Merrymaking

My head still throbs from Saturday's Saint Patrick's Day parade in downtown Albany followed by a toxic mix of buttery nipple shots coaxed down my collar at Blue 82.

St. Patty's Day is serious business in Albany with a leprechaun-share of Irish citizens (nearly 20%) turning the streets green this time of year. Pubs, restaurants and a hard-working history have much to thank the Irish for their growth and leadership in Albany. Albany Mayor Jerry Jennings, New York State Assemblyman Jack McEneny and New York State Senator Chuck Schumer were part of the revelry as well. In fact, a surprised Mayor even got goosed by a drunken SUNY student with a flirty t-shirt that read "I recycle boys!" Good thing the Mayor wasn't wearing a kilt!

The craziness continued with Stacy, Denise and me partaking in the mischief until midnight. The parade kicked off at 2pm with firefighters, Celtic marching bands and step dancers showing off their colors. Sun streamed down everyone's happy faces including a friendly fellow with a green goatee. Other visual highlights can be found at Dave Carroll's website.

After the parade, we waited in line to enter the big tent at McGeary's until masses of disgruntled patrons left in front of us complaining that it was too packed. All bars appeared to be filled to capacity so we took our turns at a wonderful Irish banquet of potato, cabbage and salted meats. We had the smorgasbord all to ourselves with a Jillian waitress hip on supplying several lemon drop shots and Coors Lights.

From Jillians to Blue 82 to 677 Prime to 76 State Street, we sipped, we chugged, we gulped, we barfed (I barfed). After that, my Irish luck wore off and we slipped into an Italian pizza parlor for a slice of grease and googling from fresh married men.

A night and day to be remembered until next February - I mean March (still hungover).

New Music for a New Generation

Last Saturday evening, eight of the nation's best symphony composers gathered at the Troy Savings Bank music hall for a music extravaganza. Original works by composers Ney Rosauro, Mark Vinci, David Beck, Janice Macaulay, Bill Cunliffe, Aldo Forte, Dana Wilson and Samuel Adler were performed by a single orchestra with over 150 students from 75 area schools. With a generous grant from the New York State Music Fund, ESYO commissioned the creative musicians to write the works as well as attend the premiere.

Having traveled oversees to the Ch. Republic and Germany with ESYO in 2000, PilotGirl was again hired to videotape and edit the show. It was a celebratory night of wind, string and percussion works by students as young as 13 and no older than 19. I marveled at their skills and talent 8 years ago and again on Saturday night.

The Troy Savings Bank Music Hall is also a hall of superior quality and acoustics. In fact, the Hall was named a National Historic Landmark in 1989 and attracts big jazz names like the Pat Metheny trio, Queen Latifah and the Grammy award winning Spanish Harlem Orchestra. This April, I scored 2 tickets to see Ricky Skaggs and Bruce Horsby, one for me and one for a consummate listener of bluegrass music, my Mutti.

Chronic Poverty Needs Compassion Not Criticism

When I was in Brazil shooting an educational documentary, I took a public tour of a favela in San Salvadore. To gain access, my tour operator called the local drug lord and asked for permission. He agreed and I captured some unbelievable footage. Then, a couple months later, while in South Africa, I took a similar tour through the overcrowded townships on the outskirts of Cape Town; the result of years of apartheid. Then, a month later, in India, my party of 50 were the first Westerners invited to a dirt-poor Dalit village called Kodur. The communal living offered us a chance to change stereotypes and develop friendships.

Many of these memories were rekindled reading an article in the New York Times today called "Slum Visits: Tourism or Voyeurism?" by Eric Weiner. At first, like Weiner, I too felt wrong ogling other's misfortunes, like a mom scrubbing clothes with an antique washboard and rusty bucket or children in schools with no desks and few books sitting on cold concrete to learn. It felt intrusive and unethical and it upset me. But, this was a up-close and personal tour and we had translators with us to break down the language barrier and everyone knew better than to take a photo without asking for permission.

But, surprisingly, few locals asked for handouts but instead offered up homemade gifts for sharing. As the tours wore on, it became clear that none of the underprivileged wanted sympathy, pity or charity; rather, they were hoping we'd take away an understanding of 'developmental poverty' or as they say in economics, 'the cycle of poverty' and that would change attitudes.

So, for what it's worth, I'd like to promote "poorism," as it's being called, as accurately changing many misguided and misinformed opinions and ignorant ideas about the poor. Those who perceive the poor as lazy, immoral or incapable should be the first to book tickets. The dozens of poor I randomly interviewed in Brazil, India and South Africa were proud, hard-working and virtuous. Theirs were complicated stories of discrimination and disadvantages as a result of being poor.

But, they knew and we discovered that persistent tours through their gritty neighborhoods aims to change that. With enough interest, awareness will spread and opportunities will open up. Opportunities like financial lending programs (Finca), education and effective philanthropy for medical, psychological and drug treatment centers would be a great start.

Like Harold Goodwin, director of the International Center of Responsible Tourism, told Weiner, "Ignoring poverty won’t make it go away. Tourism is one of the few ways... to understand what poverty means, to just kind of turn a blind eye and pretend the poverty doesn’t exist seems to me a very denial of our humanity.”

Dogs to the Rescue

What is it with Gus Van Sant's movies? Some of his stuff like "Finding Forrester" and "Good Will Hunting" are incredibly illuminating but most of the rest are so brooding, dark and banal. His heroines lack depth and are, instead, detached, non-expressive and numb to everything. I'm no film critic but his plots are generally quite depressing and most certainly rob a person of their will to live.

To remedy this, I have one psychological and physical option to restore my head to a healthy place: play with my dog Rocco and eat lots and lots of chocolate. Both do the trick quicker than a credit roll.

And so we walked today with chocolate in hand. With bright blue skies and warm temps, owners and their lovable mutts came out of hibernation. Here now are photos of dogs with great character development; dynamic, cheerful, uplifting - a panacea for every sour screenplay you see.



The first Rottweiler is Hasek, named after the Detroit Red Wings Goalie, the next Labradoodle is Puzzle, younger than he looks, the third is a purebred Goldie named Yawkey, of course, a Red Sox fan and the last is yet another Labradoodle that goes by the name of Gracie. Gracie is a favorite. Not only are dogs a great way to get to know your neighbors but they kick that morose movie funk to the wind.

Thanks, Pete!

My buddy, Bobby, has an 86-year old banjo-playing paladin - his name is Pete Seeger. And, after working tonight's membership drive at WMHT-17, enjoying the "The Power of Song" Documentary, I too am a respected and devoted Seeger admirer.

Last week, Bobby launched into stories about Seeger during our drive to ski Jiminy Peak. The stork delivered me a little too late for "If I Had a Hammer," "Turn, Turn Turn," and "We Shall Overcome" but that didn't stop Bobby from expanding my world. Bobby explained how brilliant a social activist and folk singer Seeger was, how he lives only 60 miles shy of Albany, how he chose not to invoke the 5th Amendment when subpoenaed during the McCarthy's era, how he fought pollution on a 106-foot replica of a 18th-century Dutch sloop sailing the Hudson, how this symbolically paved the way for The Clean Water Act of 1972 and on and on and on. His list of grassroots activism and defining moments is endless.

I was also surprised to see all three, the sloop, Mr. Seeger and his wife of 50 years, Toshi, still very much alive and participating in labor, peace, civil rights and environmental movements. The sing-along memoir ended far too soon but with Bobby's original "How to Play the 5-String Banjo" handbook still in need of an autograph, maybe, just maybe, we'll be making a trip to Beacon this summer...

Ode to NPR

"I can name that voice in 5 words," I say out loud to myself while listening to National Public Radio.

"And, tonight we take you..."

"Ooooh, oooh; I know, I know - it's Eleanor Beardsley of NPR's Marketplace!" I scream. A cute guy in the car next to me looks at me as if I'm a complete dork. Could he be right?

Robert Siegel, Corey Flintoff, Peter Overby, Andrea Seabrook, Liane Hansen, Will Shortz, Daniel Schorr, Melissa Block, Steve Inskeep, Tess Vigeland, and of course, Carl Kassell: the list is as long as the length of time I've been listening to NPR and American Public Media. These voices have permeated my airwaves for 20 years - a torrid love affair that began when I first answered a historic, folkloric and occassionally interesting puzzler on Car Talk with Tom and Ray Magliozzi. I own the shameless commerce merchandise, download the podcasts, buy the books and even judge my friends by their car radio presets. If one of their dials isn't set to their local NPR affiliate, someone's getting a lecture.

I'm not the only one who enjoys this nation's premier public radio producers. 14.7 million people listen to news and commentary each week about stories of profound joy, sadness, despair and courage to arts, entertainment and music reviews to in-depth reporting on public affairs, politics, business and economics. This is intellectual and trustworthy programming at it's finest, owned by the people who listen and contribute, unlike the monolithic bias of corporate owned media and radio shows that pander to the prejudices of listeners.

Music - The Common Language

Membership drives aren't suppose to be this exciting but Thursday evening was an exception. From behind an audio booth at WMHT-17, I mixed sound in between breaks of the New York Philharmonic's historic concert in North Korean. The concert was recorded live 2 days earlier by WNET and ABC and then distributed to all the PBS affiliates.

Bob Woodruff (yes, the same guy to survive a IED attack in Iraq) provided rare reporting and commentary from the militant country. Somehow, Woodruff got unprecedented access to interview regular North Koreans; children, parents, teachers and even an exclusive tour of the Yongbyon Nuclear Facility, the same place that produces deadly plutonium for nuclear bombs. In a country where everyone is raised to think the United States is an enemy and tensions between governments is still at a all-time high, this was a challenging feat.

The concert was conducted by Loren Maazel and included Dvorak’s Symphony No. 9 (“From the New World”), Gershwin’s “American in Paris” and the Prelude to Act III of Wagner’s “Lohengrin.” Maazel said "We will play now the 'American in Paris," to a nation of 22 million. "Maybe someday someone will compose 'Americans in Pyongyang.'" Everyone laughed.

The music was enjoyed by myself and the many local viewers who called in to pledge money to keep memorable programming like this on air at PBS.