I always thought of myself as a real summer kid. Growing up in New York I was willing to sacrifice all the other months just to get to the summer season that started with Memorial Day and ended on Labor Day. That’s when I felt the most alive, and it was almost like watching life through a black and white t.v. that just transitioned to color. While my father claimed his favorite time of year was the fall, he would often say, “If you took out January, February, and March you would have perfect weather.” With a puzzled look on my face, I would reply, “You just cut out a quarter of the year like it was nothing.” Then I thought to myself, “I was willing to give up three quarters of the year just to get to my favorite 3 months.” I had to ask myself, “Which of the two of us was really nuts?”
Don’t get me wrong, we had lots of great activities and music that occurred throughout the year, but the fun we had, and the music that played throughout the summer was something very special. I bet my “championship” music trivia teammates, Greg and Toni White would agree “The Twist” by Chubby Checker, “Summer In the City” by The Lovin Spoonful, and the Beach Boys, “California Girls” never sounded better than in the summer months. I’ll even add Sly and The Family Stone’s “Hot Fun in the Summer Time” and what kid wouldn’t feel his summer was just starting when listening to Alice Cooper’s “Schools Out?” It didn’t matter the era you grew up in, the music never sounded better than it did in the summer, especially if the windows in your car were rolled down or you were driving in a convertible on your way to the beach!
When I was young the summer seemed to last a lot longer than it does now. Maybe it was our carefree attitudes where we crammed lots of activities into one day. We swam, water skied, and had endless games of Frisbee and flashlight tag, and those beach parties were second to none. Perhaps it’s me, but did this summer seem to be missing a month? Friends of mine up north are already dreading the end of summer. Stores have already put out their fall and early winter merchandise, and soon they will be experiencing “Tumbleweed Tuesday,” which is the day after Labor Day when it seems like summer came to a sudden stop and the merchants are desperately looking for those last customers seeking to stretch their summer vacation out a few more days. While my northern friends are starting to mourn the passing of summer, those of us living here feel like our summer with its fun activities is soon to get started. Think about it.
When we were under travel restrictions from Covid, many flocked to Florida in an attempt to move to a more desirable climate and lifestyle. Instead of people returning north for the summer they remained here with us. We may have social distanced, but we got creative and put together impromptu potluck dinners on our streets, and figured out how to enjoy each other’s company….from a distance of course. It was as if summer gained a few extra months. Then as life returned to normal many of our friends and neighbors resumed their trek north for the summer where the season was just kicking off, and we settled into the more quiet days of summer, which wasn’t such a bad alternative considering all our area has to offer. With boating, beaches, golf, tennis, pickleball, entertainment venues, waterfront shops, and restaurants why would anyone want to leave? Isn’t this what people are going north to enjoy and from what I hear, it was just as hot up there this summer! With even more activities planned by our local Chambers of Commerce, Country Clubs, and Charitable Organizations in the upcoming months, it seems like our summer may just be going into its second phase as there are a host of activities and events I’m looking forward to enjoying.
As for those who are returning now that summer is in their rearview mirror, I’m sure my music trivia teammates Greg and Toni could put together a playlist for you that would include “See you in September.” The great news is our summer is not over, and as a kid at heart who loves the excitement of summer, I couldn’t be happier.
I have often been amazed at the talent all around us, and if you’re like me, you often ask yourself, “How do they do it?” Sometimes those with these unique gifts make it look so easy we think, “I can do that.” I remember when the Beatles first came to the states and appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show. While many artists appeared years before the Beatles, they were credited with ushering in what is referred to as the “British Invasion.” There was something extraordinary about them that everyone wanted to emulate and ride their coattails to success, including us kids. I was in elementary school then, and my father thought it would be a grand idea for my brother and me to learn the accordion. So periodically, we would bring our accordions into school and play for our classmates.
Unfortunately for me, the Beatles, Rolling Stones, and Doors ruined my career on the accordion as my classmates didn’t want to hear me play “Fascination,” or “The Volga Boatman;” they wanted to hear “She Loves You,” “Satisfaction” or “Light My Fire.” Despite my father’s urgings, I quickly ditched the accordion for the more popular guitar and later got into a band. My father said I could take guitar lessons only if I continued with the accordion. I guess he wanted to carry on the rich musical tradition of his father, who attained fame as a composer of opera and was the voice coach of world-renowned opera singer Enrico Caruso. After a half dozen lessons, my accordion/guitar teacher said, “It is very apparent you are no longer practicing the accordion. What puzzles me is you can’t play “Little Brown Jug,” which I gave you to learn on the guitar, but somehow you can play “Light My Fire.” I knew I had reached my right of passage and was on a journey with my friends to a musical career as a rock and roll band guitarist. My bandmates and I thought fame and fortune were just around the corner, as we could now tell our classmates we were in a rock n roll band called “The Illusion.” I never realized how fitting that name was until my father, after hearing one of our band practices in our basement, came down and said, “If my father was still alive and heard this trash you call music, he would destroy the instruments.” I guess it was an illusion; we just didn’t realize it at the time. For someone like myself who was pretty much self-taught how to play the guitar, I compare myself to some musicians today who are self-taught and think, “I would have been better off picking up a rake.
To me, nothing sings more to my soul than music from those British Invasion years and the groups who followed them. However, when I hear some bands cover these songs, I want to listen to them played like the original artists who recorded them. Perhaps I have some of my father in me, as he wasn’t so interested in hearing the interpretation as much as how the song was originally performed. Don’t get me wrong; many artists have done excellent jobs covering songs written and performed by the original artist. Still, when it comes to rock and roll, I love to hear it performed as close to how it was originally written. Two groups come to mind where the members were self-taught on several instruments or took their skills to a higher level that went well beyond the lessons learned. They are “The Alter Eagles” and “Mike Imbasciani and his Bluez Rockerz.”
I’ve followed Mike since he was a solo act and so young they had to pass around a hat for people to tip him for his performance. Over the years, this guitar virtuoso astounds me each time I see him. Talented and highly personable, I find it amazing that he can play lead guitar solo riffs without missing a note, all while walking through the crowd and periodically stopping to engage people in the audience in a short conversation. Most people haven’t mastered the art of walking and chewing gum at the same time, yet Mike can hold a conversation with you while entertaining the rest of the audience. And if you have enjoyed the music of Eric Clapton over the years, Mike’s tribute to this famed artist takes you on a historical journey where he masterfully weaves the inspiring moments of Clapton’s career with the music of that time.
Over the years, I’ve learned the difference between a “cover band” and a “tribute band,” The Alter Eagles are a tribute band that vocally and instrumentally sound precisely like the original Eagles. Todd Pitts, the founder of the band, is self-taught on multiple instruments and has an exceptional vocal range. To read the bios of band members Todd McNamee, Ken Custalow, Tim McMaster, Guy Ruvolo, and Michael Beattie, you will quickly appreciate how they execute each song. Equally engaging and entertaining, I’m amazed at how not one but an entire group of individuals can come together with such precision yet make it look so easy and not just on their instruments. Guy slides over from his drums to keyboard, and guitarists Todd Pitts and Ken Custalow take turns putting aside their guitars to move on to the drums without missing a beat, leaving the audience astounded at the talent on display. I then think of my father’s comments and realize he wasn’t trying to discourage us but to let us know in his way that there is a great deal of passion and innate ability that create those pieces that move us, whether it is in the form of a painting, writing or song. I also realize that we are all born with unique gifts.
When asked how we can create the things we do, we often find ourselves at a loss for words in trying to explain what comes naturally to us but would be a challenge for others. I learned that lesson the hard way while building a deck with my son. While my father was not handy, somehow, I picked up an ability to see things and create them. Our son, who was helping me, asked, “Dad, how do you know how to do this? You make it look so easy?” I was at a loss for words and replied, “I don’t know, I just do.” Unfortunately for me, my wife was within close earshot of my response and, giving me “the look,” said, “That taught him absolutely nothing.” I then shared with him that there is often much thought before the project, making the result look more effortless. You have a mental image of how you want it to look, and then you mentally figure out how to accomplish it; almost like solving a puzzle in your mind.”
Some people can visit a cemetery and feel a special bond with loved ones who have passed. Others are terrified at the thought and equate it with the ghoulish night of Halloween, where evil spirits lurk. Then there are others who have turned the page and don’t see any point in visiting loved ones or friends who are no longer with them.
One of the most memorable walks I’ve taken there has been on Veteran’s Day or Memorial Day, where small flags adorn the entire cemetery like a carpet of spring flowers, commemorating the service of our fallen or deceased veterans. It is inspiring to see just how many people who have had some connection to this quaint island have sacrificed so much for the freedoms we enjoy today. There are World War I and II veterans, those who fought in the Korean and Vietnam wars, and even a dear friend of ours whose son was disarming bombs in Afghanistan ahead of his platoon when he stepped on an IED and sacrificed his life to save the 20 members of his team. We all have stories like this of people we know who “gave all” for their country, and then we have others who “gave all” differently.
One of my first interviewees was Punta Gorda’s first female mayor, Marilyn Smith-Mooney. Formally from Long Island, New York, Marilyn lived a life of accomplishments that would have spanned at least two lifetimes. The first half of her life was in the private sector, focused primarily on architecture, interior design, and ownership and management of a commercial construction corporation. The latter half of her life centered around executive management team positions in human resources and corporate development. She was a pilot and an Amelia Earhart award recipient. She was a graduate of the Advanced Institute for Elected Municipal Officials, Leadership Charlotte, and Local Government Leadership Florida. For eight years, Marilyn served as executive director and vice-chair of the Tetrault Family Foundation. This private non-profit provided $30 million in funding and development of the 27-acre Peace River Botanical & Sculpture Gardens, where breathtaking sculptures from artists worldwide are displayed among specimen floral fauna from the area.
She also obtained her Florida Supreme Court certification as a county mediator, which only scratches the surface of this talented woman’s accomplishments and awards. In 2017 Marilyn was honored with the award from the Punta Gorda Rotary for “Service Above Self,” acknowledging her work for so many non-profits and individuals “needing a caring heart.” However, one award Marilyn was most proud of was being the first recipient of the “Distinguished Civilian Award” from the Military Heritage Museum, which she received in August 2021.
There is a military saying I came across, “All gave some, some gave all,” and while that may imply those that haven’t fought in wars “gave some,” Marilyn Smith-Mooney is a perfect example of someone who may not have marched off to war, but to me, she “gave all.” Thankfully, I’m fortunate to have had the opportunity to thank her for her “service” before she passed shortly after receiving her Distinguished Civilian Award from the Military Heritage Museum.
If I had to summarize my outlook on life, I would have to say Alexander Pope’s “An Essay On Man” depicted it best when he wrote, “Hope springs eternal in the human breast.” Various interpretations characterize his words: “People will always be optimistic and think something better is coming.” That certainly describes me!
I’ve often thought, “Is it the child in me who wants to see life through rose-colored glasses, or is it my desire to see the best in people and what life offers?” I sense I’m not the only one as I find many who I meet are on the same path as me, looking for those little nuggets along our life’s journey that bring us joy. When you think about it, every month of the year has that little “treat” we refer to as a holiday we celebrate with great anticipation. However, when you look into the history of many of these holidays, their origins are vastly different than how we celebrate them today. We have molded them into a day that makes us feel good and gives us that renewed “optimism.” Think about it. January starts our new year, a clean slate, if you will. Some people look at it as a start of a better year than the previous one. New resolutions are made, and who cares if they are broken a few weeks later, we feel like we got a fresh start. 
February brings us Valentine’s Day, and who would think we somehow could turn a day honoring 2 Christian martyrs into a romantic day for lovers. March amazes me as St. Patrick would never have deemed people from all walks of life and races would claim their Irish heritage and celebrate it until all hours of the night. Somewhere along the way, the fact that it was to celebrate the arrival of Christianity into Ireland got lost between the corned beef, Irish soda bread, and another round of beer. May brings us spring flowers, Cinco de Mayo, and a day to honor our Mothers. While I understood the significance of Mother’s Day and spring flowers, can someone explain how a kid from New York interprets a day when Mexico celebrates its victory over the French Empire in The Battle of Puebla, known as Cinco de Mayo,” as one he should commemerate as well? June was one of my favorite months as it was not only the month of my birthday but Father’s Day and the start of another great summer. Soon to follow was the 4th of July, and all we could think of were those great summertime barbeques and firework displays and not so much as those who gave of themselves fighting for our independence. While August didn’t have any particular holiday we looked forward to, it was the last month of a summer that was in full swing.
Then came Labor Day, and once again, we somehow interpreted this day that originated as an observance of the labor unions contributions to the U.S. economy, as almost a weekend of rest and one final celebration before heading back to the drudgery of another school year. If you were like me, I bet you couldn’t wait for Halloween to arrive, and whoever would have thought we could have turned a day of observance for the deceased, martyrs, and saints into a night of ghoulish activities, costumes, and shopping bags full of candy! November brought Thanksgiving, which not only was the beginning of the holiday season but seemed to make us a bit more appreciative of the things for which to be grateful. There was a desire to savor the day in the company of family and friends, and it was perhaps one of the few holidays that genuinely made us reflect on the significance of that day. Then came Christmas for those of the Christian faith, and like most kids, it was a day we looked forward to since the end of summer. While it was supposed to signify the birth of Jesus Christ and God’s plan to bring salvation to the world, somehow, our focus was more about the gifts we showered on each other, and the Christ child in a manger got hidden behind that new bicycle and the mountain of toys.
I bet you think I forgot about April, didn’t you? For many, it represents the month that “God giveth and the taxman taketh away.” Perhaps Easter is God’s way of helping us endure that pain; however, Easter represents much more to me. The beginning of spring was starting to bloom. The air seemed fresher, and everything seemed to come back to life. As a child, my early recollections were of an Easter Bunny delivering a brightly colored basket full of jelly beans, a chocolate cross and rabbit, and a stuffed baby duckling, all nestled on a bed of colored cellophane grass. But, of course, no Easter would be complete without the dying of eggs and the Easter egg hunt that soon followed. As I got older, I thought, what sense did all of this make. Easter is supposed to be a celebration of the risen Christ and the hope of many for eternal life, and somehow we have a rabbit delivering colored eggs and candy. Did someone tell the rabbit he walked onto the wrong movie set?
I was relieved to find, according to Time, this “egg-laying hare” stems from a pagan tradition known as the Festival of Eostre, which honored the goddess of fertility and spring. It is said the goddess’s animal symbol was the rabbit, which stood for high fertility and reproduction rates. If you live in my community you will see first-hand the rabbits have successfully continued this time-honored tradition! However, in the 1700’s, German Immigrants coming to Pennsylvania brought this tradition of “Osterhase” or “Oschter Haws,” an egg-laying hare that would lay colorful eggs and give them to good children. I can’t tell you my relief as I must have been one of the good ones, or of mistaken identity, as I always awakened to a big Easter basket full of every sugar-filled treat known to man!
So what does Easter mean to me? Unlike most holidays steep in tradition, I always felt it was the start of something extraordinary inside me and the world around me. Everything seemed new and fresh; it was almost as if life was just beginning. As I’ve grown older, it has taken on a different perspective as chocolate bunnies and colored eggs have given way to more of a reflective period. Easter has almost become a better time to make those resolutions in bettering ourselves and sharing our gifts with others. I’ve often wondered if we make our New Year’s resolutions at the beginning of each year as something genuinely positive to look forward to, or is it our feeble attempt to distract us from the suffering of those long, harsh winters? After all, how many of those good intentions become just that after only a few short weeks? Yes, guilty as charged! For those who share the Christian faith, Christ’s death and resurrection was that opportunity to bury the old negative thoughts and way of life in exchange for a better, more rewarding eternal life. One in which we could find total enjoyment in the simple pleasures life had to offer without trying to create distractions to get us through each day. This is, to me, the actual “Hope Eternal,” as Easter has brought me a renewed appreciation for the things I have, the friends that surround me, and the hope of a better world to come.
While most people would like to talk about themselves, Gary and Gail have always put their clients first, and their diverse backgrounds have provided their clients an unparalleled level of service and knowledge throughout the past years.