A vote to end stupidity and allowing common sense to prevail

"He knows nothing and thinks he knows everything. That points clearly to a political career."

                                        George Bernard Shaw 

AUBURN, Maine — Frustrated citizens let us stand and give the United States Congress  a rousing round of applause for cleaning up their self-inflicted mess that made the United States appear like a house of cards and the laughing stock of the world. 

Federal workers are back on the job and national parks and monuments are open for business, but that doesn't mean there are no hard feelings between the public and its leaders.

It took over two weeks for our unreliable leaders to figure out that shutting down a government and dragging their heels on raising the debt ceiling wasn't good politics. This debacle was brought to you by a group of self-righteous fools who ended up drawing the ire of their fed-up constituents.

Let's hope citizens who do vote will channel their resentment and disgust at the polls when they cast their ballots.

Never forget that these class clowns made a mockery of our government and shut down a nation in a fruitless and reckless attempt to defund Obamacare that, by the way, was upheld by the Supreme Court.

Of course, there were a few congressmen with the horse sense to put an end to rampant stupidity that was precipitated by a rogue element from within the Republican Party.  You have to hand it to Tea Party members for bringing down the House and Senate with their warped convictions.

But American citizens weren't the only ones shaking their heads. This fruitless attempt to dump Obamacare and refusing to raise the debt ceiling triggered world-wide condemnations from Germany, China and France.

I was proud to see President Obama wouldn't budge on the issue and I cheered when the Tea Party was slapped back and received its comeuppance. 

Sure, congress and the president kicked our budget dilemma down the road and a sequel is already in production and will hit the big screens in February if our leaders can't find common ground and come to a reasonable decision.

That's where you come in — the American voter.   So please don't forget the "Hole in the Wall" gang at the polls because this rogue element doesn't care about its citizens or the harm these out-of-touch men have done to a great country's reputation, character and determination.

Serving his country and playing baseball in occupied Germany

“Without heroes, we are all plain people, and don't know how far we can go”

Bernard Malamud

“Without heroes, we are all plain people, and don't know how far we can go”

 Bernard Malamud

My father's uniform sports three citations for his service to his country

Big Al Blasi pays a visit to his daughter's house

Anthony stands in front of a P-51 Mustang at the Brunswick Air Show. 

Anthony and Terri stand in front of an M-60 tank in Augusta.

Anthony and I on the deck of the U.S.S. Massachusetts - an old World War II battleship that now rests at Battleship Cover in Fall River, Mass.

A pair of bombing can't keep a proud and good city like Boston down.

AUBURN, Maine – There's a classic black-and white picture of my dad speaking with the opposing coach and his good friend Joe Bevere after Revere played Chelsea in a high school baseball game.

Big Al is wearing his traditional team cap, baggy pants and rumpled blue coat at wind-blown Curtis Park – a shabby baseball field battered by endless, cold sea breezes and summer humidity. An MBTA train used to rattle past the outfield as it raced toward Boston to drop off passengers.

The field is gone, but not my memories of my father's unforgettable moments on the diamond and that wonderful, old dusty field that was removed from my past to make way for a new school.

I sometimes stare at the picture that rests on my desk at the Sun Journal. I fondly remember moments when I served as the team's batboy and all the young men who played ball for my father.

My dad knows baseball like a sailor who is able to maneuver his vessel in a harbor with his eyes shut.

Big Al's knowledge America's pastime has served him well as a baseball skipper who coached the Revere Patriots for nearly 43 years without being run out of town.

What I often forget is that he was drafted and served his country during the Korean War. But Pfc. Al Blasi, and his brother, U.S. Army 2nd Lt. Rocco Blasi, missed serving in Korea by this much. Both of them ended up being stationed in Europe as the world rebuilt war-torn nations from the ground up.

They were both lucky, and they knew it. Europe was like a vacation on the Maine coast compared to slugging it out with the North Koreans and Chinese.

His outfit was the fabled Big Red One, a division that served with distinction in World War I. In the second war, the Big Red One was the first to fight the enemy in North Africa and Sicily. The division was also the first on the beaches of Normandy and captured the major German City – Aachen. The Big Red One remained in Germany until 1955 and was later redeployed to Fort Riley in Kanas. A movie starring Lee Marvin was made about the division's heroics during the second war.

There were no tales of combat for my father, but there were plenty of stories about him playing baseball in Germany. He was sort of like Joe Dimaggio who played ball in Hawaii to raise the country's morale during World War II.

Big Al owned the plate whenever he was at bat. He could hit, and when a high-ranking officer witnessed my dad's hitting prowess, he chose my father to play for the company's baseball team.

Life got a lot easier in the Army for my dad. Picking up a bat and glove was easier than carrying a BAR (Browning automatic rifle) or bazooka. He proudly served his country, but he brushed off the idea of making the military a career. 

But he did answer the call to duty and eventually became a sharpshooter. While he did not face the perils of combat, he witnessed an infantry unit bivouacking after a night of patrolling. The men were sleeping when American tanks on maneuvers came rolling through the German woods. Men ran for their lives and climbed thick trees to escape the blind, roving monstrosities that tore up the landscape.

Big Al was once given a lift from his uncle, Air Force Maj. B.J. Murano, who was a pilot who saw action from the seat of a B-24 in Italy during World War II. He also flew 100 missions in a fighter called the P-51. Murano flew my father home in that storied fighter that eventually became an icon of air superiority in that era.

My father rarely spoke about his experiences in the Army. He moved on and was busy working two jobs and raising four children. There was no time for the dedicated teacher and high school baseball coach to spend days spinning yarns about his tour at the local VFW Post.

After my mother died, he began speaking about his tour of duty, but Alzheimers has made it impossible for my dad to recall all those interesting moments in the service. The words don't come easy and he is frustrated, and I am saddened that his memories are quickly disappearing as this horrible disease progresses.

A few years ago, my dad wanted to sell his uniform for a few bucks. I pleaded with him to give it to me. My other siblings were not interested in it, but for me, it was a piece of his past and this country's history, and I didn't want to see the uniform in a stranger's hands.

I had worn his uniform at a Halloween party when I was in high school. 

There are three ribbons of citations sewn on the 60-year-old jacket. I had no idea what they stood for, so Anthony and I turned to the Internet and spent the next 30 minutes researching and identifying each ribbon. Those ribbons include the President's Unit Citation, Army of Occupation Citation and the National Defense Citation.

When I visited him a year ago, he gave the uniform to me and said, "What the hell are you going to do with it?"

I just smiled and didn't answer him. I think we both understood why I wanted his uniform in my possession

I am preserving his uniform to honor him, because that's what sons do for their fathers who give a damn about the right things in life.

A family tree grows in Auburn

AMERICA'S PASTIME: My father, Al Blasi, at around nine years old. He was already smitten with baseball, and it explains why he became a baseball coach for over 40 years at Revere High School.

ALL IN THE FAMILY: My father Al, lower right, with his family: His dad, Anthony Sr., his mom, Anne, his sister, Rita, and big brother, Rocco.

THOSE WERE THE DAYS: My mother, Louise with her family: Mom Josephine, brother Wesley, sisters Carol and Nellie.

"We all grow up with the weight of history on us.  Our ancestors dwell in the attics of our brains as they do in the spiraling chains of knowledge hidden in every cell of our bodies."  

~Shirley Abbott

AUBURN, Maine — Anthony would have been held incommunicado in my mother's kitchen if Louise witnessed how swift my son traced our family's ancestry using a reliable laptop, two impressive libraries and a great deal of patience and tenacity.

Anthony raced through centuries of history with the push of a button. He was like curious time traveler Rod Taylor in the 1960 movie version of H.G. Wells' "Time Machine" While Taylor watched eons pass before him outside his laboratory windows with a nudge of a lever, Anthony observed dozens of our decedents' names appear on a computer screen.

His arduous journey began when he started reading about the Davis family and our connection to the American Revolution on my mother's side. My mom's clan was a seafaring bunch who came over from Scotland and then eventually took on King George in America. The other side is Italian, and my heritage on my dad's side explains why I am excellent cook. I will take anyone on the kitchen and win each battle with my culinary delights.

For most of his school vacation, my son plowed through Ancestry.com to research our lineage. Centuries flew by on the computer as our family tree grew like the 40-foot pine in our front yard.

He spent days meticulously connecting the forgotten dots of time. He began with my wife's family and then moved on to his dad's ancestors without showing any signs of exasperation. Obstacles or detours didn't stop him from conducting his research. When the road narrowed and leads dried up, Anthony switched direction and found a new path into our ancient past.

If my late mother saw how easy it is to trace your roots using the Net, Anthony would have become his grandmother's hero. She was a proud member of the Daughters of the American Revolution. Her ancestry and love of this nation's history made her a living reference for all of us. 

My son is now obsessed to see how far his quest will take him inside recorded history. He persuaded me to pay for another month of Ancestry.com's time-traveling, technological wizardry. The site is like a wormhole, a shortcut if you will, through the ages.

After facing several road blocks tracing the origins of the Blasi family, he moved on to the Davis family tree with significant results.

First and foremost, I am from nobility. You could say I am related to England's modern-day royalty, so bow the next time you see me. Of course, a handshake will do, too. I've inherited my love of gardening from the Royals, and I bet Prince Charles and I could go round and round about raising a bumper crop.

Anthony's startling discoveries include: 

* I am a first cousin, 13 times removed to Sir Francis Drake — An English vice admiral, privateer and navigator during the Elizabethan era.

* I am a second cousin, 12 times removed to Richard Grenville of the of the H.M.S. Revenge, 

* My 13th great grandfather was Roger Granville, who was captain of the H.M.S. Mary Rose

* I am first cousin, 18 times removed to Richard the Third — a king of England. His remains were recently discovered underneath a parking lot in Leicester, England.

* My 22nd great grandfather was Edward the First, also known as Edward Longshanks, a medieval monarch and slayer of William Wallace. 

Obviously King Richard and Edward were despots, but they are still part of my heritage, and it is cool to have a few skeletons in the closet.

Anthony also focused on Terri's mother's maiden name — Richardson. He brought to light several startling revelations about my wife's ancestry.

* Terri is the seventh cousin, four times removed to Franklin Delano Roosevelt — the 32nd president of the United States.

* She is the fifth cousin, six times removed to Ulysses S. Grant — the 18th president of the United States.

* She is the sixth cousin, five times removed to Laura Ingalls Wilder — author of the Little House series.

* Her 19th great-grandfather was Louis the Fourth — holy Roman emperor.

In the course of his research, he discovered an obituary of my late uncle — World War II hero Biagio Murano.

Every Christmas, I would visit and share a drink with him. He rarely spoke about his exploits during the war. I guess he had seen enough killing and destruction for both of us. 

According to his obituary, he was a highly decorated war hero who flew missions in the seat of the sluggish B-24 — a bomber that was so difficult to maneuver that pilots would develop huge biceps in their right arms. He participated in the Berlin Airlift and flew 100 missions in a P-51 fighter during the Korean War where he earned the Distinguished Flying Cross. He is also the 254th person in the United States to break the sound barrier in an F-104.

In between his demanding studies and being a member of the ski patrol team, Anthony has unearthed these forgotten tidbits of our family's history. He refuses to stop there and wants to know more about his family's origins.

So do I, and he has taken me there.

But what human being doesn't want to know how their family grew over centuries.

Thanks to technology and libraries, many people are making this quest.

And Anthony is just another pilgrim on a journey to discover his roots.

Good show, England

"Democracy no longer works for the poor if politicians treat them as a separate race."

                                         Frank Field, British Labour Party politician

Dear good citizens of the United Kingdom,

Pay no attention to an American from across the way.

Mitt Romney's critical comments were uncalled for and unfortunately became a small distraction to a world-class event — the London Olympics.


Romney, who desperately wants to be the next resident in the White House, was trying to prove he is an authority on foreign policy and belongs on the world stage, but his visit hardly won the hearts and minds of the British people. Insulting one of America's staunchest allies didn't help persuade the world that he has honed his diplomatic skills.


I can see why Brits might be offended when the GOP's presidential hopeful questioned London's handling of the Olympics. The British government doesn't need an arm-chair critic to conduct its affairs.


After all, England is a nation that gave us Winston Churchill, World War II General Bernard Law Montgomery, William Shakespeare, Henry Purcell, Charles Darwin, Ernest Shackleton, Charles Dickens (one of my favorite writers), Masterpiece Theater and most importantly — the Beatles.

By the way, chaps, Prince Charles and I share a common bond - we are avid environmentalists who love gardening.

Despite a world economy that remains fragile at best and the constant threat of terrorism, Great Britain forged ahead to gather athletes from across the globe to compete in London.

Pulling off such a succesful extravaganza in these tumultuous times is a Herculean task for any free nation. I am also convinced that the British government has taken every precaution to insure the safety of athletes and spectators.

I know a majority of Americans believe Brits are a splendid people who have done a bang-up job when it came to organizing such a spectacle.

Look half of America has trouble taking this presidential candidate seriously. I urge Londoners to dismiss his comments and enjoy your moments in the sun for the next two weeks.

By the way, England, good show!

And justice for all

AUBURN, Maine - Killing Osama bin Laden wasn't the only objective of putting 25 courageous U.S. Navy SEALs in harm's way during an incursion at a fortified home in Abottobad on Monday.


It was justice, and it finally caught up with this murderer who had been on the run for a decade.


Reveling in his death is almost pointless. I  am relieved and delighted that justice was carried out swiftly and judiciously and those 25 brave souls came home without a scratch.


His death is certainly not the end to Al-Qaeda's violence. Unfortunately, there are other fanatics on deck, waiting for the opportunity to commit endless acts of terrorism.


Although justice was delivered by bullets, this raid was necessary to terminate one man who waged an endless campaign of terrorism and murdered thousands of law-abiding, devout Muslims.


I do understand that bin Laden's violent end will not bring Peter Goodrich, a Bates College All-American who was murdered on 911, back from eternity, and nor will it be a comfort to Sally Goodrich, who passed away last December after a long battle with cancer.


The Goodrichs are decent human beings who do not believe in the eye-for-an-eye thing. I am sure bin Laden's death brings no closure to the Goodrich family.


I am grateful to the Navy SEALs' extraordinary 40-minute battle to take down bin Laden despite the enormous risk of losing their own lives. These servicemen were not only in danger of being killed but they had to scurry back across the boarder to avoid the Pakistani air force.


This risky operation was also a difficult call for President Obama, who could have easily ordered an a B-2 air strike and obliterate the compound. But he understood it might be impossible to identify bin Laden's body with all the collateral damage done by the bombing.


Anyway, nice call, Mr. President, and for having the temerity to give the order to shoot to kill.


The last thing this nation, which has endured several wars and a sour economy, needed was giving Osama his day in court. Allowing Osama a court date would be like having Hitler testify at Nuremberg and listen to his ranting and ravings.


A trial would have allowed this despot to spew his hatred and enrage the American public. It would have cost this country millions to try this killer and then make him a martyr when we executed him.


I believe Americans would have little patience for bin Laden's presence on American shores.


And burying bin Laden at sea was also the right move after no country wanted his corpse. I can see why such nations as Saudi Arabia didn't want to be responsible for his burial. I'll bet his body would have incited unrest no matter where bin Laden was laid to rest.


Again, congratulations to President Obama and the Navy SEALs for a job well done.

Save the Olympia

Olympia

What shall be done with such a mass of floating steel?

Should she be sunk to become another ocean meal?

For though she belongs to us, we belong to her.

And if they say she should be scrapped, I cannot concur

For across the seas and in the enemy's grasp, she sailed to them and let loose her mighty blast.

And when this cruiser at last avenged the Maine, she sailed herself and America onto better fame.

And when she brought our last soldier home in the fall of '21, this great deed, we all know, did not go unsung

And when our children ask, where is this brave ship now, will we tell them where and will we tell them how?

Even though she survived her wars, the enemy sinking her not.

Is it our American duty just to let her rot?

And though you may sink her, or tear her up for scrap, you will not destroy her legacy or find it in that trap.

And posterity will read of her and think of her with pride. Will they see her at the wharf, as Philadelphia pride?

- Anthony P. Blasi, 2011

"A good Navy is not a provocation to war. It is the surest guaranty of peace."

                                                  - President Theodore Roosevelt, 2 December 1902, second annual message to Congress.

AUBURN, Maine - Anthony's passion for ships and boats began when he cast his oversized plastic vessels into the sea and watched them being tossed about by large waves at various beaches across New England.

He would study the toy ocean-going vessels being pummeled by breaking waves at Popham and Revere beaches. This 4 year old found it fascinating as the ocean's force capsized his fleet over and over again. He would marvel at how some of his boats would slowly sink to the bottom of the raging waters. 

Although he was still fascinated with cars, planes and trains, Anthony was eventually consumed by his passion for ships and the sea itself.

The years would pass, but his fascination of ships, particularly naval vessels, grew as well as his love of the ocean and all its sweet mysteries.

He began reading book after book about sailing ships and then set his sights on the world's navies and their amazing and destructive warships. The introduction of ironclads and the construction dreadnoughts between 1870 and 1920 fueled his passion to learn more about these behemoths and their deadly force.

Anthony also embarked on building his own fleet of Lego and plastic model warships, organizing battles between these toy fleets on our parlor floor. He would bring his Lego ships to the ocean and navigate the vessels on the tranquil seas as parents gathered to watch this young man let his fleet loose upon the world's oceans.

During our visits to the waterfront in Portland, we visited the U.S. Coast Guard's training ship, "Eagle," which was a Nazi vessel that America received for war reparations. We have seen huge cruise ships and toured the U.S.S. Cassin Young and the U.S. Constitution in Boston.

But his particular interest in dreadnoughts steered him to great warships like the Cruiser Olympia, which was Admiral Dewey's flagship during the Battle of Manila Bay in the Spanish American War and also saw action during World War I. He created the Olympia out of Legos and sailed his toy masterpiece in pools and on the high seas.

He was astounded to learn that this great ship with a storied history was in danger of being scrapped because of a poor economy and lack of funds to preserve the Olympia.

His disgust prompted him to write a poem entitle "Olympia" about her uncertain fate for a classroom project. 

I am forwarding this article to the Independence Seacoast Museum in Philadelphia to demonstrate our support for this great ship.

The Olympia is a wonderful piece of American history, and it would be a travesty to see this great ship drift into obscurity without a fight to save her from the scrap heap.