Health, relationship, career and life advice at ProLong Magazine » Robert Ottaviani

Finding The Fountain of Youth: My Personal Beatlemania

Staff — Sat, 28 Aug 2010 17:36:49 +0000

By Robert J. Ottaviani

Beatlemania 1964
I’ve just seen THE BEATLES. I’ve just seen THE BEATLES. I watched them stride on stage one-by-one sporting their trademark dark pegged pants tucked neatly inside their Beatle boots while a neatly tailored buttoned suit coat with a nehru collar framed their slender shoulders while wagging their mopped haired heads. They walked out with a dash of confidence and armed with their quirky sense of British humor. They tapped their Beatle boots on the floor to count down the rhythm to start the song … one, two, three, four. Two and one half minute little jewels of musical virtuosities ensued, each one brimming with beautiful melodies that you sang along to and a beat you could tap your feet to. Beatlemania was alive and well and performing for a United States audience at the Ed Sullivan theatre.
It was 1964 and I was an overly anxious fan waiting for this very moment My affection for them was such that I truly felt they were singing only to me and obliviously since 73 MILLION people witnessed this historic musical event, I may have been wrong.
Maybe that was part of their charm and magic. Even to this day I am hard pressed to explain this huge fascination I have with the group, an almost zen like connection from the very first moment I heard them. They spoke to me in a way no other group had and still hasn’t today.

Giving In
I was basically a traditionalist, a purist who would only see them as a foursome intact. Since THE BEATLES came over to the states in 1964 and until they disbanded in 1970, I was still too young to see them live. The following years to come would test my resolve as John would be assassinated and George would eventually succumb to cancer. With each passing year I realized my opportunity to experience any part of my musical idols was lessening. I could go to a Ringo Starr concert but his was more of a self promotional venue and he had very little song writing background when compared to the other three. Not that Ringo wasn’t a sweetheart of a guy, because I’ve heard other musicians testify to that very fact. So Paul became my focus, one half of the greatest song writing team that ever lived. I knew his show would pay a huge tribute to his roots … THE BEATLES. In addition, I knew his interpretation of the songs would be true to their roots, why alter with original brilliance of the compositions, right? I heard the news that Paul was interested in opening the Console Energy Center in Pittsburgh, PA and decided that my stubbornness be put aside. Paul was 68 years young and quite possibly playing Pittsburgh for the last time. Tickets went on sale and the 18,000 seat facility was sold out in two minutes. A second show was added and also sold out in less than three minutes. Beatlemania indeed! Paul’s allure was as strong as ever and apparently his 40-year hiatus from the mega group did nothing to wane his popularity.

All photographs courtesy and copyright of Shawn Plassmeyer.

Wednesday August 18th … SHOW ONE
We arrive at the Center at 6p.m., the scheduled time the gates are to open for the 7:30 start. I notice the crowd is represented by every age group in anticipation of seeing the rock icon. An announcement is made that Paul’s plane has been delayed and the show will be late in starting. This little two-hour glitch pales in comparison to my 40-year wait to see Macca as I hear others fuss around me. The fact that I can hear his sound check as I wait in line actually heightens my zeal for his show to begin. The line is suddenly moving and we shortly are in our seats, which are in the first section above the floor and across the arena from the stage. Two large screens flank the stage and are showing the boys in their early years both individually and collectively as Beatle music is played and all things that relate to the fab four are highlighted throughout. There is an incredible buzz in the air that’s seems to be building to a frenzy and then … out walks Sir James Paul McCartney. He is nattily attired in a long dark suit coat looking young beyond his years and svelte in stature. One, two, three, four, they launch into a Wings number to kick off the show, which would last three hours and feature 35 songs, 22 from the Beatles library of music. He has obviously found the fountain of youth as he delivers a high energy act that leaves you dumbfounded as to how he can maintain this vibe after so many shows, so many years. It occurs to me that the answer is … love. He loves what he does for a living. You can see the passion he has for his craft and how he is totally comfortable in the spotlight. The night swells into moments when you are sure that you have reached a musical zenith, when it can’t possibly get any better … and then it does, again and again. I leave totally satisfied convinced I have witnessed one of the greatest moments in my life, and then …

Thursday August 19th SHOW NUMBER TWO
I flash my ticket to the first attendant on the floor who tells me to keep walking toward the stage. Eventually, I am seated SIX rows back from stage almost directly dead center. I immediately sense the enormity of this circumstance as I am practically about to share a stage with “the greatest composer of the millennium” according to online readers. Although I have paid dearly for my seat, I never use it for I, as well as everyone around me stand to pay homage to the “cute Beatle”.
The house lights go down and Sir Paul leads his band on stage wasting no time picking up his trademark hofner violin bass and launching into ALL MY LOVING and THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD, soon to be followed with I’M LOOKING THROUGH YOU and BLACKBIRD. After mixing in some Wings classics like JET and BAND ON THE RUN he returned to his BEATLES roots with ELEANOR RIGBY and OB-LA-DI,OB-LA-DA. He moved adroitly from bass guitar to acoustic guitar to electric guitar to piano and mandolin with equal dexterity. He made it a point to pay tribute to his ex wife Linda (MY LOVE), to John (GIVE PEACE A CHANCE) and To George (Something). He made sure the crowd acknowledged their contributions. He had constant interplay with the crowd, regaling us with jokes and anecdotes of Hendrix and Clapton. He had the crowd totally eating out of his hands, enough to make Jim Jones jealous. We were all drinking the cool aid and thirsting for more. The crowd stood throughout the evening singing the words and cheering wildly after every song.

In one of the quieter moments between songs he stood back and read all the signs that were made. Ours mentioned the fact that our grandson McCARTNEY ROBERT was his namesake. He slowly read the words, made eye contact with us and tapped his fist over his heart in appreciation. What a moment!

A short time later he had the entire crowd singing the chorus from HEY JUDE and then LET IT BE and A DAY IN THE LIFE were played. Wave after wave of emotion flooded my body with each song selection. I’ve just seen THE BEATLES … I’ve just seen THE BEATLES. No, in the purest sense of truth I hadn’t. But you didn’t need much of an imagination after listening to Paul carrying on that wonderful legacy from yesteryear and taking people on the musical journey of their lives. It’s been days since the concerts have ended but I’m having trouble getting the songs out of my head. I find myself singing them throughout the day, like they’ve been burned into my psyche. I suspect many others are experiencing similar symptoms. From these nights I carry home pictures, t-shirts and my ticket stub but more importantly a treasure chest full of memories in my head and in my heart.

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatle manianized his life, been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle. He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

Life Lessons Via Bert

Staff — Thu, 12 Aug 2010 02:07:00 +0000

By Robert J. Ottaviani

Parents are not like free refills. You have one set, drink them slowly

You may love, be loved, and be in love but you will never fully understand love. It is far too complex, mercurial and has layer after layer of depth. It is both vast and infinite and forever challenging.

Products cannot be both “new and improved”. If it’s improved it’s not new.

If you had to sacrifice one sense, would it be sight or hearing? Think about it.

One of the best and least expensive ways to improve your demeanor is a good haircut.

If the sky was green and the trees blue would we be living in a better world?

Hard work doesn’t always guarantee the best result but the alternative never will.

What is it about a new set of clothes that puts a little extra zip in you step?

Preparation is the best way to exude confidence at a meeting, interview or seminar. Put in the work before hand so you’re not selling as much as you are enhancing.

Was it a simpler life in simpler times or was it just because we were younger?

Remember when a guy wore his hair long he was considered a “bad element”. The length of one’s hair doesn’t determine his nature, his heart does!

A hard storm complete with lightning and thunder beats a fireworks display every day of the week.

If you live long enough you will see fashion trends, decor and accessories come back into vogue. They may be tagged vintage or retro but they were used decades ago and are experiencing a second life.

Do reality shows devalue the professional actor when “regular” people are the stars?

The mullet was a hairstyle that caused quite a stir when it surfaced and remains somewhat of a cultural phenomenon. Business in the front … party in the back.

Tattoos are no longer edgy, everybody has them.

I’d pay a king’s ransom to find the original creamsicle, not this popsicle sized generic imitation they sell today. I hate when they alter perfection.

Stress is not some new condition that only recently appeared. It’s been part of the world for long, long time. Its previous name was yelling, screaming and behaving badly.

Why does night time give you more apprehension than day time in the same exact environment?

Random acts of kindness still remain one of life’s little jewels.

Sports used to be a predominantly watched venue by males. Those days are changed forever.

Sometimes the best vacations have very little planning, they just unfold magically.

As much as the world has changed and it has evolved greatly, a first date has not. It still involves dinner and a movie more often than not.

Has Webster’s dictionary been rendered completely useless now that the internet is available?

A good friend is like your favorite blanket … warm, comforting and always there when you reach for it.

If you wake up in the morning contemplating how to get through the day … believe it or not you win again … if only because you’ve awoken.

Do they still have summer playground for kids? Those were some fond memories that I still carry with me whether it was table hockey or making lanterns.

Never let your guard down and be someone you are not … people are watching you whether they announce it or not.

The older I get the more I want to be a kid again … The years go by quicker now.

Death and taxes are NOT the only two certainties, prejudice will be here till the earth calls it quits.

I want the energy of a 10 year old, the looks of a 20 year old, the ambition of a 30 year old, the confidence of a 40 year old and the wisdom of a 50 year old and I want it all when I’m 25.

Traditional shopping malls are the last true dinosaurs inhabiting our earth.

What’s more important to you … winning or learning how to win?

Make a selection from the following: Health … Wealth … Peace of Mind.

Quitting cigarettes was the hardest thing I’ve done … that is if you don’t count relinquishing the remote to my spouse.

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatle manianized his life, been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle . He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

6 Types of People

Staff — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 00:09:39 +0000

Which Are You?

By Robert J. Ottaviani

I believe that there are six types of people who interact with each other on this earth. They are as follows:

THE ONE UPPERS:

We have all encountered these types along the way. Your telling a story and when you are finished with your story it pales in comparison to the story the “ONE UPPER” is about to regale you with. Their stories are always much bolder, way longer and far more interesting and they’re only too smug to tell you so. That is, when they even allow you to even finish your story … because of their belief that everyone wants to listen to only them. ‘ONE UPPERS” crave the spotlight, need attention, and are genuinely not interested in your opinion. “ONE UPPERS” can leave you feeling uninteresting and largely inadequate and do not make you a better human being.

THE POLIANNA’S

Initially with these people you can succumb to their kindness. They are often referred to as being so nice. The poly’s allure is equal parts gentle persuasion, attentiveness and a complimentary nature. They are generally very upbeat and positive. They constantly look to find the silver lining even in times when there is simply none. Their garbage smells like potpourri and that stupid smiley face is their icon of choice. Their glass is always half full. But their shelf life is very short. They are constantly being overrun by aggressive people who exploit them and discover they’re fragile psyche. In a dog eat dog world they are the rawhide, chewed up constantly and spit out in the process.

THE WHACKS:

Per chance you have met them and probably quickly dismissed them because they don’t seem to fit into mainstream America but a closer look is warranted. They are the proverbial square peg in a round hole. The whacks don’t dress like you, don’t act like you and don’t live in the same world as you but interestingly enough are asked to interact with you. If you don’t invest a lot of emotional sacrifice and watch from a safe distance they are actually quite intriguing. Creativity, albeit misguided at times can be a central part of their journey through life. Genetically, they are not wired like you and therefore their theories and perceptions are really quite amusing. They are actually some of my favorite people because they can bring a smile to your face and break up the monotonous normalcy of everyday living. They are the car wreck you are freakishly fascinated by but glad you are not experiencing yourself.

THE 9 -5′ERS:

These groups need to exercise extreme caution, probably more so than most. Without much fanfare you will slip into a cyclical routine of boredom. Work, sleep, and wait for the weekend. Work, sleep, and wait for the weekend. Picture yourself on a treadmill with the off button just out of reach. Sometimes we just need to jump off. 9-5′ers generally have structure in their lives, are well organized and have little or no retail background. Social outings and events are usually planned well in advance and impromptu soirees are kept to a minimum. Friday night it’s a movie or a ballgame, Saturday a little work around the house, by Sunday you’re already thinking about work Monday morning so you shut it down early. If it’s a six sided box you’re living in be sure to open the lid and get some fresh air.

THE DOWNERS:

I’m handing out free samples of patience if you have these types in your life on a constant basis. Your constitution had better be very strong because as the saying goes … misery loves company. Let’s see, how does it work? Oh yea … You get that new job you always wanted BUT … now you have to get a new wardrobe. You buy your dream house BUT … now you have a mortgage. You win the lottery BUT now you have to pay the taxes. These folks have a bad case of the blues and I ain’t talkin B.B.KING. They are a weight, an albatross, and a cross to bear. If you are not a strong minded person it can bring you down to a level where it’s a long climb back up. Beware of the woe for it is a dropped anchor around your neck.

THE SALTS:

The salt of the earth. The solid reliable person you go to in any situation. They are unwavering, give solid advice after listening and always seem to have a feel for what you need to do. They are the person everyone seems to lean on and yet never seem overburdened by it all. Never frenetic in nature they are the calm reassuring voice you need to hear and they seldom ask for anything in return. When the world gives us a little more than we can handle these people are golden. You are lucky to have one in your life and blessed if you have more. The salts lighten your emotional load, pick up your spirits and set you back on the right path again. Their work is priceless.

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatle manianized his life, been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle . He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

Are You Listening

Staff — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 02:37:08 +0000

The Lost Art of Opening Your Ears

By Robert J. Ottaviani

The bald eagle, the bog turtle, the African elephant, the blue whales, the gorillas, the lynx, the snow leopard, the giant panda, the black rhino, the whooping crane and the rarest of all sightings … the listener. All of the these aforementioned items share a common trait. They are all on the endangered species list, the listener having just been nominated by this author for special consideration. If we don’t act fast we could lose one of our greatest resources we have been given … listening.

When I was a child growing up my parents used to take me to their friends homes to visit. Visiting was a big social event back then with the grown ups gathering for coffee, confections, and exchanging pleasantries. Before our trip got under way I was always given two choices and I quote … “you are to been seen and not heard” and “don’t open your mouth and people won’t know how stupid you are”. I know by today’s standard I could turn them in to CASA (The National Committee For Prevention Of Child Abuse) or some organization looking to champion kid’s rights. But back then that’s not exactly how it worked. Kids today have no idea how good they have it.

So given my two choices I chose to adhere to both of them. In actuality my parents were probably right on both counts. Given my lack of experience in almost all facets of life at such a young age I could have blurted something less than brilliant. Secondly and most importantly, it gave me the opportunity to learn a valued life lesson … how to listen. Something that appears so simple to do and yet so hard for many to enact nowadays.

“Everybody’s talkng at me … I don’t hear a word they’re saying … only the echoes of my mind.” Unfortunately Freddie Neil, who authored this song is not alone.

Everyone’s talking these days. Everyone has something to say. Everyone has a point to make … but who’s listening? The lost art of listening is in imminent danger. If you haven’t noticed maybe it’s because you haven’t listened. Take note of some conversations that you encounter and see if you can spot that member of the endangered species.

Let me end by saying the following … listening restores a certain dignity to the spoken word by showing restraint and a level of interest in what others are saying. Listening allows one to exploit the virtue of patience. Listening makes for a more well rounded individual. As long as we are talking we only know what we know and think … but by listening we know what others know as well as ourselves. Are you listening?

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatle manianized his life, been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle . He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

Choose Your Words and More Importantly Your “Type” Wisely

Staff — Sat, 29 May 2010 03:44:58 +0000

Robert J. Ottaviani

We should all be serving a sentence for committing a heinous crime on the English language. We have blatantly over used, over exaggerated and over indulged ourselves with a misappropriation of words, phrases, and slang. We are guilty as charged. All of us! Let’s take a look at some misguided verbiage we have come to accept as normal repartee.

ROFL … Rollin on the floor laughing … I don’t know about the rest of you but maybe once in my lifetime I have seen people Rollin on the floor laughing and the combination of alcohol and a wicked sense of humor were directly involved. The fact that it is written and nausea points out the fact that it is entirely out of text. There’s no one on the floor and quite frankly there’s a good chance of a lack of laughter also. I’m thinking the person authoring that text is probably just smiling. So maybe next time try something more appropriate like … SAL (smiling a lot).

LMAO … laughing my ass off … Again with the laughter. ROFL ‘s little cousin but not as severe or intense. First of all nobody is laughing their ass off and if they did they can only do it once. It doesn’t grow back or regenerate so once it’s off it’s off for good. A word of caution for all you LMAO ers . If I were you I would take precaution with what you give away so freely. You may eventually find yourself ROFL and you’ll wish you hadn’t laughed it off.

TALK TO THE HAND … I don’t why, where or when this little catch phrase started but I knew immediately I didn’t like it. Thankfully it’s popularity has waned greatly but in it’s heyday it was a force to be reckoned with. The most alarming aspect of it all was the fact that a vast majority of adults were using it as well. It was dismissive and abrupt. IT was really FU wrapped in a cuddly blanket. I know this much,if I had used it on my dad the only person I’d be talking to would be Jesus asking him to take the pain away.

TOO BUSY … I know your thinking this isn’t slang and you would be entirely right but it is used often in the wrong context. There are seven days a week,twenty four hours a day and three hundred and sixty five days in a year. Let’s be honest with ourselves, what we are really saying is I don’t want to take the time to call or see or do what it is were avoiding. We always seem to make time for what we truly want. Hopefully were not TOO BUSY when that special person really needs us.

BABY MOMMY/BABY DADDY … When did we become blithering idiots that allowed this vernacular to be part of our social fabric. Apparently perpetuating booty calls,DNA tests and absent parenting is good business. Just because Jerry Springer and Maury Povich are sell-in doesn’t mean we have to be buy-in. Hearing these words makes me grind my teeth and they sound as silly as the person saying them. I got a word for you,even two … Mom/Dad … it never gets old.

“DO I LOOK FAT IN THIS *****?” … Proceed with extreme caution. This is strictly a rhetorical question and does not,repeat does not require an answer. Quickly and gently steer the conversation to a safer subject like politics or religion. Do not smile, do not offer an opinion even in a positive manner as all things could be misconstrued at this particular time. An answer or response is not what is being sought here. Treat as a crime scene, see the police tape and give a lot of room.

WHATEVER … Quite possibly the phrase that rankles me the most and challenges my blood pressure levels as well. This one word interjection brings your conversation to a screeching halt. It is usually said with a bit of a lilt and a dash of attitude. Indifference be thy name. Kick my dog, track mud through my house, downsize my job just refrain from using that eight letter word with me.

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatle manianized his life, been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle . He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

The Elements

Staff — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 03:01:01 +0000

By Robert J. Ottaviani

The Greyness
And we awoke again under a cold, grey brooding sky that gave no promise of better days. The tree’s remained leafless and colorless with no indication of the possibility of ever bearing fruit again. Birds chose to stay flightless and clung to branches with no motivation to soar free in flight,they’re enthusiasm dampened by the foreboding elements around them. The rains continued for days and pelted the landscape saturating the very grounds we chose to walk on. The chill that was in your bones was the same chill that was there two weeks ago as it was six weeks ago. We looked skyward in anticipation of a promise we were given of his yearly return. And still there was no sign of “The One” that everyone was anxiously anticipating the arrival of.

Ice And Snow
Hope had given way to frustration and helplessness was the coat that covered our once indomitable spirit. For the heavy rains were only the next scourge that followed the impossible amounts of snow that held us captive prisoners in our homes. We watched as the skies opened and blanketed our roads,our walkways,our energies. When the snows lessened the god of elements bestowed upon us another great affliction….The Ice Age. At first it came as a small,inconspicuous visitor just barely tapping on our doors and announcing his presence. Then nigh-time came and the following morning no longer gave us faint glimpse of the glacial prison we were sentenced to. It was everywhere! It crystallized trees,encapsulated telephone lines and held us immobile and isolated. Again, the “Great Hope” was no where to be found and in fact seemed further away than ever.

The Winds
The winds blew into town like an unwelcome guest without a reservation. They heaved and gusted,flexing they’re considerable muscle in an apparent attempt to inflict humility. Spewing cold torrents of air, it stripped us of our comfort levels and exposed us for who we were. We were cold,we were damp,we were barren. It swirled about us,whistling loudly and pushing us around like the playground bully once did. It conjured up one final blast of air stream sending lesser adversaries hurling out of the way and challenging our resolve. In that moment when we could have blinked at the sign of adversity we never faltered. We faced bravado and persevered. We dreamed of that feeling again and stayed patient for his return. We kept ourselves going by remembering how good it was when we last felt “His Presence”.

The Rains
Then slowly after what seemed like we endured the Jurassic Era it happened. The glaciers moved away. The stalactites turned to water. The stalagmites dripped into oblivion. The icicles melted into nothingness. Snowflakes transformed into liquid condensation before touching the ground. The hail which once flocked the house like a newChristmas ornament was reduced to a puddle. The solar ice caps grew weary of they’re location and left for the sea. The skies opened and water poured from the ever generous clouds. Rain was so tired of being water it tried to change occupations but it only knew how to be rain so it continued to descend. Suddenly, everything wanted to be water and so it was. Finally,there came word that we may be close to experiencing “The Feeling”.

El Sol
I rose from my chair because I thought I had heard it. Indeed the first harbinger of spring was flying through the air chirping loudly and spiritedly at anyone who would listen. The once bleak landscape had added color to it’s palette as blue and green met at the horizon under a crimson orange umbrella. He had returned as promised. Many of us gathered outside or wandered aimlessly so we could feel his comfort. “THE SUN” shone down on us stirring our soul and allowing us to put several weeks of darkness immediately behind us. We felt his warm embrace and realized we were moving with a purpose again. We made grandiose plans half of which we knew would never be realized. But,it didn’t matter. Everything felt better under “THE SUN”. Indeed,it had been a long,hard winter!

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatlemanianized his life, been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle. He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

The Easier Ride

Staff — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 20:53:29 +0000

By Robert J. Ottaviani

“All aboard, Pittsburgh to New York this way please.”

The train guard stood tall and dapper dressed up in his navy blue uniform with cap while directing the boarding traffic. We rolled our baggage on the loading platform past several cars until we decided which car we wanted to enter. “Let me help you with those bags” he offered to those who struggled to lift their belongings up three steps to enter the train. Once inside we stored our bags overhead our seats, which were not designated and of our choice.

A Long Mind Wondering Journey
And so our 444 mile, nine-hour journey aboard the Pennsylvanian was about to begin. We depart “Penn Station” in Pittsburgh exactly at 7:10 a.m. as scheduled as the big wheels start to turn rolling us down the track. Clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety clack – the steel wheels sing against the steel rails. We are soon up to speed pouring past city neighborhoods and working our way through winding creeks at the foot of mountains and beautiful countryside. These scenic views become a staple of our trip as seemingly every time we look outside similar settings are to be enjoyed.
Inside the train we notice immediate comforts such as the extreme leg room with foot rests and leg rests. There’s also a button to release your seatback down to a tilt-back level, a drop down tray and a close by outlet to plug in your electronic goodies. None of these are state of the art concepts but rather well thought out ideas put in place years ago. Tickets are not checked upon boarding but rather a few miles up the track lending itself to the total laid back attitude. It’s as if you are taking a trip not to a city but to a time long ago when railways were a big part of American folklore.

Traveling Back in Time
It was easy to imagine being ambushed by the Butch Cassidy and the Wild Bunch or Jesse James and the James Gang, as we passed through some isolated terrain. Trains were much slower in the Wild West and cars were usually made of wood. These outlaws would ride up on horses eventually catching up with the train and unleash the designated car from the engine. A couple of sticks of dynamite later and all the gold and payroll was theirs for the taking. All that was left was the dust kicked up from their horses as they rode off and disappeared behind the rocks. My wife drew her double barreled derringer and I readied my Wyatt Earp revolver when we realized it was only some rider-less horses rustling in a nearby field. I pulled my renegade Dillinger hat back down over my eyes convinced we were safe for the moment and went back to dreaming.

A Quiet Ride
Whoot whoot, whoot, whoot the train horn delivered a deep drone of a warning that we were rambling across more countryside. On and on it went with an occasional whistle blown or bells clanged to signify specific communications and warnings. The one constant was a gentle humming sound of the train rolling along. I was pleasantly surprised at the overall quietness of the ride. All the sounds were in unison and never alarmingly loud or unsettling. We moved about the train whenever we wanted visiting the dining car for a drink and some lunch. We listened to a table of grizzled, experienced train riders swap stories of train travel, one eager to outdo the other. We made occasional stops where we could get out and stretch our legs a short while. We read, we listened to music, we slept, we scoured the Internet on our Netbook, and we re-connected with each other because we had the time.

We pulled into New York Penn Station exiting the Pennsylvanian number 42 right on schedule at 5:20 p.m. We grabbed our baggage at our leisure and listened as further assistance was offered to those who needed it. The ride was totally devoid of angst and worry and the nine hour venture hardly seemed that long. I’ve had work shifts that seemed excruciatingly longer. If it seems like I’m romanticizing the train experience in part I am but only because of my contempt for the alternative. Air travel!

Flying the Unfriendly Skies
I loathe it! From the time we book our flight I’m a mess. I just don’t like the experience. Arrive several hours early. WAIT, take your shoes off, WAIT, and pass your bags through, WAIT. “You’ve been chosen by said airline for special attention, move over to the side for a pat down and WAIT”. “Okay you can proceed to your gate now and WAIT”.”Attention, we are seating rows d through f now” like its some big privilege for me. It’s certainly not “all aboard”, is it? So I enter the big tin cigar holder, find my seat and realize my knees are holding up my chin because there’s no room. My drop down tray also serves as my napkin as it literally sits on my lap. And now for something different … I get to WAIT for clearance for take-off. The stale unvented air has me considering pulling down the oxygen mask and I haven’t left the ground yet. We are finally airborne and I have to use the facilities but WAIT the light is on meaning I have to stay in my seat. Well, at least I get some lunch, oh no you say you just have peanuts and juice. There’s no calming humming noise, no gentle whistles, no soothing horns but a rather disturbing rattling sound from the cabin, which sounds like it’s going to split the aircraft in half. Well at least I have turbulence to look forward to, there’s nothing like that dropped out of the sky feeling. And to think I get to repeat the process when I return including the WAIT for the luggage and hope it’s on my flight. I’m starting to think all of the missing luggage has boarded a train as I would have given the chance. You must admit arriving on the 909 at midnight pulling into the station is a far more romantic notion than having to catch the red eye because you were bumped due to overbooking! As soon as I figure out how to get a train through water I’m leaving the friendly skies forever!

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatlemanianized his life, been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle. He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

Room Even For The Semi-Sacrilegious

Staff — Thu, 11 Feb 2010 03:39:36 +0000

By Robert J. Ottaviani

I took the standard oath when I signed on to blog for ProLong thereby surrendering my first born or designated child that I wished to sacrifice. They put me through all of the DNA testing,the secret handshake and signing off on the clause that prevents me from blogging for a competitor.
I know as I write the following I’m being semi-sacrilegious because part of ProLong Magazine’s objective is to promote a longer healthier lifestyle. However, the way I view it a sense of humor is vital to a healthy body and mind.With that in mind and in the style of a certain late night TV host and with tongue firmly planted in cheek I give you the following:

Top 10 reasons for not living a healthy lifestyle
10.Don’t have to concern yourself with those pesky expiration dates
9.Can use treadmill as an additional source of hanging clothes
8.Puts all you can eat buffets back into play
7.Amusement park rides don’t have a weight restriction only height
6.The rise in popularity in over sized furniture makes the timing oh so right
5.Calorie schmalories … give me some of that bacon fat
4.Polyester clothing with Lycra has great elasticity qualities
3.It gives one the opportunity to “super size” it
2.We will end the prejudice against fat people in our lifetime
1.Sugar is good food

Top 10 reasons for not exercising
10.Putting on twenty is easier than losing twenty
9.Eliminates choosing a favorite fitness guru to follow (Sorry Matt Tucker)
8.Riding a stationary bike gets you nowhere and the scenery is boring
7.Endorphin high isn’t as good as the one you get from donuts
6.Sweating is largely overrated
5.Assuming sedentary position makes it easy for people to find you
4.Eliminates those pangs of guilt when you cheat
3.Couldn’t figure out how to hook up the new exercise equipment to the sofa
2.Anything less than a lifetime commitment is considered failure
1.No time wasted kneeling on a mat at the gym staring at some unsightly posteriors

Top 10 reasons for staying off drugs and alcohol
10.The faces you wake up to the next morning are familiar
9.Able to avoid that one always annoying jerk
8.Have the ability to actually recall and recant stories with details
7.Wake up the next morning without corn stalks hanging out your car windows
6.Rehab is for losers
5.State store wont revoke your platinum membership status
4.New circle of friends are okay with you staying home to watch a movie
3.Less recyclables to put out each week
2.English becomes your first language again
1.”Let’s do some shots”

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatlemanianized his life,been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle. He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

If you like this blog enter your email address now to join our email mailing list.

Instant Impatience

Staff — Wed, 13 Jan 2010 02:20:12 +0000

We Still Had Fun Before All of This Technology Hit

By Robert J. Ottaviani

I’m watching television on my parents 25-inch console television, which is by and large considered huge in size and doubles as a piece of furniture with the nicely fitted wood trim and speaker cloth framing both sides. I do this by pulling a singular knob out to turn the power on. Its got a grainy picture with mediocre sound quality and when one show is over someone has to get up and walk over to the set to turn the knob to change the channel. Incredibly no one seems to mind this task, which repeats itself through out the day.

Every morning my sugar laden milk bowl that once contained my fruit loops or my sugar puffs has turned a funky pink color as I watch the Flintstones, yogi bear, magilla gorilla, and the Jetsons. Occasionally in the early morning or at the end of the day a test pattern appears on the screen in the form of a series of circles with an Indian chief in the center of the screen while emitting an oddly mesmerizing whistle. Commercials interrupt the shows sporadically and we watch them with the same interest as you would the programs.

Our furnace has heating grates that lay horizontal to the floor and they serve my sisters well as they open the wrapper on a Hershey’s chocolate bar and let it rest on the opening until it melts to the desired square of goo. Mom always seems to be out in the kitchen cooking meals, which happen everyday at precisely the same time. Breakfast is as soon as you wake up, supper is always at 5 p.m. and Sunday dinner is 1 p.m. This routine never changes and your social life revolves around this and not vice versa. Sunday dinner is always pasta with chicken or roast and potatoes and salad. Always.

Dad is out working as he is the only bread winner in the family. When you didn’t feel like watching television you turned on the transistor radio, which was about the size of a loaf of bread and when you turned the dial for another station (you received about three) it would snap,crackle, and pop like your cereal did. The days were comfortably long and you savored it as it seemed to last forever.

I look outside and see the milkman leaving the porch having deposited two fresh glass bottles of milk in our silver insulated square receptacle, which we leave on our front porch for that very reason until we are able to retrieve them. I’m asked to go get some groceries from the local store that is family owned and seemingly on every block. They ask you what you want by your name and you put your bill on a house tab.

Outside we are playing stick ball or burn the base or kick the can or riding our bikes. We were always outdoors until your dad whistled for you to come home and they each had their own distinct call so that there was no confusion. Your phone was black, with a rotary dial and was attached to a wall or sat on a table. It remained in the house. If someone tries to reach you they would call the number and if you didn’t answer, it meant that you weren’t home and they would try again later. There was no message to leave, and no machine to leave it on.

You want to watch a movie? Great, you walk several blocks to downtown to one of two movie theatre’s and you choose which one.

I’m suddenly transported from the mid sixties to the year 2010. I’m watching television on my 58-inch high def flat screen Televison. It takes me seven steps to turn my T.V. on with my state of the art universal remote that replaced my previous fourteen that I had to use. I never move as I peruse the four million channels available to me at the press of a button but yet I complain that there’s nothing on.

Meals are random as time permits. Grocery shopping is done at a big chain with hordes of people roaming about and ultimately waiting in long lines while the shoppers ahead of you sort through their expired coupons as you bristle because you’re in a hurry. You always seem to be in a hurry. The kids, they never leave the house. They glam onto the Internet or play game after game after game until their senses are dulled to a nub and then say they are bored.

You can reach someone immediately with a cell phone, twitter, facebook, or myspace. You can google any information you need on any subject. You can watch a movie without leaving the house with on demand or netflix. You can pay your bills online instantly and without effort. You can shop with a credit card from your sofa.

Everything comes to you faster, more efficient and in an easier manner. We want it, we want it now, and we get it. So tell me with all this technology that allows us to have instant gratification why are we more impatient now than ever?

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatlemanianized his life,been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle. He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.

The Secret Of Life

Staff — Mon, 14 Dec 2009 03:25:59 +0000

By Robert J. Ottaviani

It can be a life long endeavor. It can be something that you put on the shelf to get to later. It can be evasive and elusive. It doesn’t often present itself outwardly and when it does you may not recognize it. It is available to most everyone and yet so few have it. It can seem difficult to achieve with work restraints, family obligations and health issues but not impossible. It is the ultimate prize we chase after whether we realize it or not. So what is it? What is this untapped mystery we seek to discover? I’ll call it THE SECRET OF LIFE. No,not just the gift of life we’ve all been given. I’m referring to a much deeper quality of living which I’ll try to explain a little further.

I’ve witnessed it so I know it’s real. I had a family member who they told me when he was younger was very stern and harsh in large part probably because of the physical ailments he had endured. The discomfort that ravaged his body affected his demeanor as it would each and everyone one of us. But somewhere along the way he found the key and unlocked THE SECRET and once you do the world is at your fingertips. Whenever he golfed he seemed to enjoy it a little more than you did. When he ate he seemed more pleased than you. When he walked his step had a little more bounce in it than yours did. It didn’t make you irritated but a better word would be envious. It was genuine and whatever it was he had found you knew that you hadn’t.

Over the years we became good friends but he couldn’t share “it” with me even if he wanted. It’s non transferable because it takes a different key for everyone. The direction we take to get there can be as different and unique as we are to each other. I understood that much. I watched intently to see if there was a clue left behind. I admired the fact that his life always seemed to run smoothly, that he was never pressed for time like the world had slowed down for him. He seemed in sync,in perfect harmony with the world around him. We never talked about “it”. I’m not even sure he knew what he had but I sure did. He had gained the ability to extract meaning from each and every moment even when they seemed mundane to everyone else. He found joy in the simplest passages of time that the rest of us took for granted.

God has given us all the chance to walk the planet but more importantly the opportunity to make the most of it. I implore you to not just go through the motions. Reach out and try to grab the golden key. We are given as many chances as we need so don’t be afraid to fail. I believe we have been presented a challenge to try and extract the most out of the life we have been given. Find out what works for you and if you’re fortunate enough to make that connection your life will be impacted in a positive way. Others just may follow your lead.

Robert J. Ottaviani (Bert) is a cusp born Aries the ram who has lived through summer of love in the late sixties and the hippie culture that bled into the seventies. He has a passion for music, gardening and all things nature … and laffy taffy. He is freakishly aware of music trivia to absurd levels. Most days you can find him playing his guitar or jotting down lyrics. He was so impacted from the moment he first heard the Beatles that he has Beatlemanianized his life,been to Liverpool, England and remains convinced he is the fifth Beatle. He is married to a gentle and lovely vibe of a woman with three wonderful children. He currently lives and resides in strawberry fields forever.