Rocco Maiolo's Ramblings and Musings

Great Quotes From Jack Kerouac's On the Road "Isn't it true that you start your life a sweet child, believing in everything under your father's roof? Then comes the day of the Laodiceans, when you know you are wretched and miserable and poor and blind and naked, and with the visage of a gruesome, grieving ghost you go shuddering through nightmare life."- Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Part 1, Ch. 13 "The one thing that we yearn for in our living days, that makes us sigh and groan and undergo sweet nauseas of all kinds, is the remembrance of some lost bliss that was probably experienced in the womb and can only be reproduced (though we hate to admit it) in death."- Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Part 2, Ch. 4 "Our final excited joy in talking and living to the blank tranced end of all innumerable riotous angelic particulars that had been lurking in our souls all our lives."- Jack Kerouac, On the Road, Part 3, Ch. 5 “You don’t die enough to cry.” Part 3,

Sie и Io we speak two different Γλώσσες How to talk to you love you hold your hurt like tea in a cup but you are so far a way

there’s an attic in my head and it sifts time – the stairs leading there creak like forgotten (and now recalled) ghosts: equivocating apparitions that might mean me well but I’ll never know; I evict them from the attic in my head before their echoes die (I imagine that) each echo like a well-meaning curate goes back to the parsonage to intercede on my behalf and later returns in stealth to occupy its previous station there are mirrors and bird cages and hymnals and wardrobes and painted work horses and drafts and forgotten dreams in the attic in my head I think the ghosts live among these things one day I will speak to the ghosts of these things but not today.

I love Fall. I’ve always loved Fall. A few days ago, a friend said he found Autumn sad because everything dies; summer is over and Winter is coming. Then in Spring, after a long season of steel-blue skies and urban hues of grey, he is happy because there is colour again. I love Fall for the same reason I love earthy, unpretentious, heart-felt folk music – like that of Damien Rice. When you touch something so deep and honest that it hurts your soul, you know you’re alive. That’s how I feel when I walk alone in Fall. Life has given way to rich beautiful tones of yellows, oranges and browns. It’s like the world is trying to get your attention with a short burst of colour as if to demand, on your part, refection: reflection on the passing of time and what you have done with it. It’s also a sober reminder that a long Winter is ahead. Fall is the perfect time for Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for my faith. I think it should be mandatory for all churches that don’t have regular comm

Last year I tried to read On the Road by Jack Kerouac, the beat poet. I made this decision after: a) reading Gabrielle Marquez's A Hundred Years of Solitude and being absolutely blown away by it, and b) reading the Penguin Great Books of the Twentieth Century List on the first page of this special edition text. I read about 30 or 40 pages of On the Road and gave up. That far in the book, it was about a narrator/college kid who writes and lives with his aunt. He meets and becomes obsessed with a character named Dean. I appreciated the richness of the language -- at times, it reads like vintage Kerouac poetry -- but I kept waiting for a plot. And the characters... well, they were a bunch of beatniks who all got along. No conflict. I just took the book out of the library again. I'm going to give it another chance. There are other books on that list which I've read and, clearly, I'd consider them classics. I've found them, powerfully moving and incredibly well written.

I was talking to someone about tragedy the other day -- tragedy in the classical and/or Shakespearean sense, not as in its modern-useage sense. We came to the conclusions that: a) artistically, esp. in film and in literature, tragedy is far more moving and impacting than comedy or drama is, and b) it's not so popular with modern audience (esp. film-goers) because we'd rather not think/feel too deeply; we just want to feel good -- hence, the "feel-good" movie. We also defined tragedy as the story of someone doing something dumb and the devestating consequences it has. I guess, from a classical point of view, you'd add "when the stars line up just so" or, since we're doing Tragedy for Dummies, when fate lines up all its ducks in a row. We went on to talk about modern dystopic stories in which the protagonist lives to win the day with the leading lady on his arm knowing that tomorrow will see the dawning of a new utopia. Contrast this to classic dysto

I think I've just found a new favourite Canadian writer. Speaking of which, Guy Vanderhaeghe has gotta be due for a new book! I just finished reading David Adams Richards' The Friends of Meager Fortune (which is the name of a character in the novel, by the way). Great book. Here are a few quotes: "The idea that failed men lose their wives is partially true -- many drive them away, feeling unworthy." "You cannot love the soil where your soul was mocked by lesser men." "...men have rid themselves of God and are famished, and therefore do terrible things to make such famine go away."

Quite the book. I liked it, but a lot of people out there disagree with me. Here are some quotes from reviews and plain old reader responses: This allegorical dichotomy teaches us nothing new about the Holocaust, nor gives us useful tools for deciphering and understanding its complex socio-historic causes. (wow -- harsh!) I literally just finished Yann Martel's new book Beatrice and Virgil... about 10 minutes ago. I am shaken with rage as the book is one of the most hateful and ghastly jumble of horrors I have ever finished. At least it is mercifully short. (again: harsh. And "literally" just finished? As opposed to what? "Figuratively finished?) a sophomoric piece of Beckett-lite [work] (ouch! And does the write mean "lite" or "like"?) First of all, I wonder what people would be saying if this wasn't a Yann Marlel book. You've gotta think that it's being judged against the success of The Life of Pi . Also, okay, it's aut

Should I get one? I’m not a luddite — far from it, so I’m not opposed to having one because I like the feel of a book and I like turning pages (although I do like all of the above). Here’s the thing: I get almsost all the books I need from the library. I rareley buy books, so I don’t need a Kindle or a Kobo or a Sony Reader — not really, but since when do these things have anything to do with need. Okay, here’s some justification for having one: 1) it’s green! No paper 2) I can use it at the library 3) When you go on vacation and you can’t decide what book to take and you take six books and you only end up reading one and the other five just take up space… PROBLEM SOLVED 4) They look cool

Every summer I go to the school library where I work and loot it for summer reads. I make out like a bandit. Last year, I brought home Les Miserable and Love in the Time of Cholera — among 10 other titles — neither of which I read. This summer I once again scooped Love in a Time of Cholera, which I’m determined to read and a bunch of Kenneth Oppel books. That’s quite the contrast, huh? Currently I’m reading Conan Doyle’s Sing of Four and I’m going to pick up Yann Martel’s latest, Beatrice and Virgil. I think I’ll also go to chapters and do the buy 3 get the 4th free sale. Oh and then there’s the book depot sale! Crazy.

from http://www.pmptoday.com/2009/04/26/iphone-sad-scale-app-will-assess-your-depression/ “Are you feeling kind of depressed lately or know someone who does? Here is a nifty little iPhone app that could be useful in your situation. The Sad Scale iPhone app from the Deep Pocket Series is a handy tool in assessing your present emotional state and is now available at the App Store. By answering a series of standardized questions, thisiPhone app will then score your present state of mind giving you an initial assessment of what your condition is.” From the sublime to the ridiculous: there’s also an iFart app for your phone. Oh, and let’s not forgot the iRack Youtube.

... but she's there now. Emily here. Writing to you from the Amsterdam Airport. Wow, what a memorable day it’s been already! First off, it’s Amanda’s birthday! I’m pretty sure it’s one she won’t forget. 5 airports in 3 days is quite a feat! :) We had a few little issues with our itinerary, but we were prepared to be unprepared, so it’s all good. :) In the Toronto airport we found out that my Visa was missing some things... but they decided to let me go along after all! I’m pretty happy about that. Our flight was delayed too, so we missed the connecting flight from Amsterdam to Paris. The new itinerary that they worked out for us takes us from here to London, London to Nairobi (Kenya!), and Kenya to Kinshasa. Which means we get there Sunday morning instead of tonight. Jean-Baptiste (the pastor who’s sort of co-ordinating everything we do in Congo) said that there would be no problems. Something along the lines of ‘Church is 4 hours, I’ll take you straight there and you’ll only miss

A couple of summers ago, Doris, my wife, and I were invited to a change-leadership conference for Ontario principals (neither of us are principals). We attended with 2 principals and 2 other teachers from the school where I teach. Something the two Harvard professors who were leading the conference said has stuck with me. They said that radical change only happens when there's an urgent need for it. They showed us a clip from the 1995 Ron Howard directed film Apollo 13 . Something had just seriously malfunctioned on the mission's return trip to earth. The clip shows the astronauts and Houston doing some serious outside the box problem solving. There is a definite urgent need for change and, if you've seen the movie, you know they get the job done. I've reflected on this in light of my experiences with organizations -- for the lack of a better word -- that have needed change. I teach at a highly academic school. If I had been teaching at my previous school, I think the

(check out their blog: http://confessionsfromcongo.blogspot.com/ ) Sounds kind of romantic doesn't it? To her mother... not so much. She's kind of worried. I'm not really so much worried as I am unsorted (best adjective I could come up with) with thoughts of this 20-yr-old kid -- my kid -- who's been to 3 airports, I think, in a day or so and she's still not done. She's in Amsterdam as we speak. That's not why I'm unsorted in my head and in my heart. I keep having these pictures of a little kid (my kid) in my mind. One of them is of a 3-yr-old sitting in a car-seat in our '86 Jetta asking me some pretty interesting questions like: "Do you have a girl-friend?" ME: "Ya, Mommy's my girl-friend." EMILY: No, Mommy's your wife. Do you have a girl-friend?" ME: "Mommy's my wife and my girl-friend." EMILY: "Daddy..." ME: "What?" EMILY: "Put your seat-belt on." ME: "Oka

Here are some great quotes from this book by Rob Bell and Don Golden. "Writer Anne Lamott says that the most powerful sermon in the world is two words: 'Me too.' Me too. When you're struggling, when you're hurting, wounded, limping, doubting, questioning, barely hanging on, moments away from another relapse, and somebody can identify with you -- someone knows the temptations that at your door, somebody has felt the pain that you are feeling, when someone can look you in the eyes and say, 'Me too,' and they actually mean it -- it can save you" (pg 151). "The way of Jesus is the path of descent. It's about our death. It's our willingness to join the world in its suffering, it's our participation in the new humanity, it's our weakness calling out to others in their weakness" (pg 158) "... church is not ultimately about attending large gatherings. Church is people. People who live a certain way in the world. People who

These are random, I know, and there likely won't be a point, but... here goes: When I was a kid, maybe 3 or 4 years old, my brother -- who was a year older than me -- and I decided we'd hide on my grandmother who looked after us while both my parents worked. So picture this: 1964 Franklin Avenue, Niagara Falls, Canada. 2-story war-time house with pink siding. The second story has half walls; the top halves follow the angles of the roof lines. Concetta Cavallara Maiolo , a 50-yr-o ld woman, and her husband, Rocco, just three years in Canada living with their daughter and son-in-law loses her 4- and 3-yr-old grandsons. She's looking after the grand-kids while everyone else is working multiple jobs to help make ends meet. Anyhow, so my brother and I decide to do a disappearing act. From our hiding place we can hear our nonna becoming frantic, but do we show ourselves? No, we stay concealed between a wall and an ajar door. Finally she goes outside to get help. We decide to pl