before jihad came home--this photo is blogged

before jihad came home--this photo is blogged
Originally uploaded by Rob Hoey

Egypt is in turmoil, Iran probably is ready with their nuclear weapon, everyone hates Israel including Obama and Hillary, and the snow is up to my belly button. Aside from this, everything is great.

The world seems to be posturing for something big, doesn't it? I don't know for sure, nobody does, but there is so much unrest of late. There's talk about sharia in Canada and the States, and nobody seems to care or perhaps they don't really know what that is. They don't know what jihad is either, but think it's only about an internal struggle. I believe the liberals need to feel good and look the other way, while the conservatives need to be alarmists and look at the danger in everything--even exercise. hmmmm

I just had a birthday and it blows my mind that I've turned 64 years old. That's older than my father lived to be. Older than Ellen, my older sister, lived to be. Probably older than Uncle Joe and Uncle Vinny lived to be. I ask myself, "Rob, what the hell are you doing, still alive?" and I have no answers. I'm glad to be alive but I'd change things in this world if I could. I'd change the millions of factions that separate people--things like religion, politics, race, economics. But that's impossible, eh? Christopher Hitchens is right when he claims that religion poisons everything--at least he's partially right, if not totally.

I miss my childhood, my innocence, my Winny the Pooh records with Jimmy Stewart narrating the voices. I miss Mickey Mantle hitting homers, Susie Snowflake, and Children's Theater. I miss my dad rubbing Noxema on my itchy feet after coming in from the cold, and my parents singing in the car as we drove along as a family.

But I have a wonderful life and I'm so grateful for Thasneem and Shabana (my Shampoo) and Frankie, my son-in-law. I will be a grandfather in a few months and that is a great thing to be. It doesn't make me feel old--the amount of time gone by, the black and white memories of my youth, recollecting thoughts of people I knew when 'hanging out' was what was happening, they make me feel old. My family keeps me young, happy, and in love with life. My photography and my writing make me feel that my life is making a statement, good or bad, but mine.