An Epicurean lesson courtesy of a hard year

FRIDAY JANUARY 11, 2013, 11:15 AM

BY  STEVE JANOSKI

"This is a year we'll never forget."

Every December, someone inevitably says this, but rarely is it true. 2012, though... this one might deserve it. Especially in New Jersey.

It started inauspiciously enough, I guess; no great, snowy winter, no wildly rainy spring to raise the floodwaters. All was serene, quiet.

It was summer's heat, though, that felt as if it brought the madness: the Aurora shootings, the burning of the Libyan embassy, the never-ending talk of economic collapse and a second recession. Hurricane Sandy and the subsequent blackouts. The absolutely brutal presidential campaign.

Then, as if that was not enough, there was the final blow: the bloody massacre at a Newtown elementary school that is still so difficult to comprehend, so horrifying, that no possible combination of adjectives can do it justice.

I will say it frankly: I have seen enough of this year. By far. And even though I do a moderate job at coping with it - mostly by writing this column - 2012 has proved as unnerving to me as it has to anyone else. Sometimes I too wonder if the world is going mad, or why so often the bad news seems to outweighs the good.

But even in this year that was blanketed in the worst that humanity had to shovel, there were moments of awe that proved we are still (I think) moving forward as a whole. Thank science for this.

The Mars Lander, appropriately named "Curiosity," landed on an alien planet and sent back information every day about a world that human eyes will one day look on firsthand. The Large Hadron Collider in Europe continued to amaze and performed test after test to slowly unlock the mysteries of the subatomic world and further blur the line where science and philosophy meet.

And in late October, a former Austrian paratrooper amazed the world by making a 24-mile freefall that proved that the human spirit is every bit as present (and important) as our intellect.

Then, of course, there were the smaller, more personal epiphanies that many of us came upon as a result of 2012's hardships. I learned that a world without electricity is not all that daunting (and not wholly unattractive) and that candlelight casts a far more gorgeous glow than an LED ever could. I remembered how dark the night actually gets and that nature not only does not really give a damn about us, but also has quite a bit more power than I recalled.

I learned that I need to get away from technology and Twitter and Facebook and phones, even though I love them, in order to quiet my own mind.

Now, as our calendars flip to 2013, let us not make the ridiculous resolutions that we won't keep or the promises to do that which we will never do; after last year, that should seem trivial and stupid.

Instead, let us pause just once to appreciate what is around us, whatever that may be - our youth and our strength, our age and accomplishments, our knowledge or wisdom. Just today, while things are still calm, because our lives so often end "en media res."

"Dum vivimus, vivamus," as the saying goes - "while we live, let us live."

Email: janoski@northjersey.com

http://www.northjersey.com/news/186260272_An_Epicurean_lesson_courtesy_of_a_hard_year.html

Serious about secession? How dare you

THURSDAY, DECEMBER 6, 2012

BY  STEVE JANOSKI

Most red-blooded Americans will be the first to tell you that democracy is the best form of all governments — until their favored party loses a presidential election. Then, all bets are off on what they will say and who they will curse.

I admit that during the darkest years of the Bush administration, I may or may not have been one of those people who doubted the efficacy of the democratic process, and I may or may not have had some choice words for the 50.7 percent of the population that voted to keep that man in the Oval Office.

But even then, I thought, what can I do? It is my country’s course, for better or worse, and I knew that inevitably, the pendulum would swing once again. Until that happened, I would see things through.

Eight years and one especially bruising election later, things have changed, and it seems that a certain segment of the population is no longer willing to follow the very fine American tradition of loudly griping while occasionally screaming, "I told you so" on and off for four years.

Thousands upon thousands of these disgruntled whiners have signed a number of petitions that have been pouring into the White House, with the aim of promoting the idea that their respective states should secede — secede — because of Obama’s reelection.

I’m sure at least some of the signatures are farces, included by caustic people like me who just want to a pain in the ass; I cannot say that I have not been tempted a number of times to sign the 100,000-person petition demanding that Texas secede.

And, I daresay an even larger portion come from broke, obese southerners who, despite being on disability or Medicare or Social Security, despise the federal government every bit as much as they rely on it. The signatures of these hypocritical louts should simply be laughed at.

But the most frightening, however, are the ones who think that secession is truly not only a plausible idea, but a good one. And believe it or not, they actually exist.

After such a prolonged and brutal election season, it doesn’t surprise me that people feel disenchanted. But the fact that these sniveling cowards wish to walk the child’s path of "I’m taking my ball and going home" is pathetic beyond comprehension and a disgusting insult to every man and woman who’s fought under the American flag in the past 236 years.

The petitions illuminate an incredible failure on the part of their signers to comprehend history; this dance has been done before, with terrible consequence. Make no mistake: hinting that this nation’s sons and daughters should be forced to go through the storm of civil war again is borderline treasonous — as is advocating secession in any way.

And, perhaps most importantly, it’s a sign of absolute, utter cowardice. Every single signee who is actually advocating separation from the United State of America is a coward, and we should all be ashamed that they ever considered themselves Americans in the first place.

They are weak, worthless mice who have soiled themselves in fear and decided that flight is a better option then standing and fighting it out in our legislators’ great halls the way our Founding Fathers intended. They are an abomination to the democratic ideal, and if I had my way, signing one single petition supporting secession would eternally strip them of their right to vote, hold public office, or lay their hands on an American flag.

While trust in government may be at historic lows (and that may be warranted after the past three decades), we are still the player on the world stage, and we've attained that position because over the past two-and-a-half centuries, we've held together even in times of great trouble.

That includes our first Civil War, the graves of which should serve as stark reminders of the fires that will inevitably test nations of the truly divided.

We would be wise to heed their lessons.

Email: janoski@northjersey.com

http://www.northjersey.com/news/182308911_Serious_about_secession__How_dare_you.html

Brave souls prove that legends never die

When legendary pilot Chuck Yeager lowered himself into the cockpit of the Bell X-1 on Oct. 14, 1947, no one truly knew what physical impact breaking the sound barrier would have on him…but the general consensus was that he'd better have his insurance paid up.

Yeager, however, wasn't so worried about that — he was more concerned that those running the test would find out that he'd broken two ribs in a fall from a horse just days before and pull him out of the pilot's seat. To hide it, he'd gone to a veterinarian instead of a doctor for treatment, and was in so much pain that he couldn't seal the hatch by himself.

The rest, of course, is for the history books.

Perhaps it comes with the territory of having such a highly-developed intellect, but man has always been a curious animal, and some more than others; while the great majority of people may be satisfied to live lives of quiet contentment, there are those who continually push, prod, and blow apart the supposed limits we establish for ourselves.

Although they might seem slightly insane, in truth, they are the ones that push this race further and further into the collective unknown, with little regard for their personal safety.
Chuck Yeager was one of those men…and so is Felix Baumgartner.

Granted, much has changed in the single month since the 43-year-old Austrian daredevil gave my generation its own reason to remember Oct. 14 by taking the first giant leap that man has taken in quite some time — we've been through a catastrophic hurricane, a bruising election, and we're facing a "fiscal cliff" that (allegedly) threatens to plunge us back into recession.

All of that, however, makes Baumgartner's feat of skydiving from 128,000 feet (and becoming the first human to break the sound barrier without mechanical intervention) that much more important; like all events of that magnitude, they are victories for humanity first, and for nations or individuals second.

Cynics immediately dismissed it as everything from "just another publicity stunt" to a "waste of money," and one commentator on a New York Times piece even wrote, "Can't this guy figure out something better to do with his life? Please!"

But watching that YouTube video of the former paratrooper opening the door to his capsule, with the wind raging and the gentle curve of the Earth cutting across a black felt background, and stepping out into the 24 miles of nothing that separate him and the planet, is one of the most remarkable things I've ever seen.

The irony, of course, is that it's the people like that, who write anonymous killjoy comments on news articles, that make those like Baumgartner, who are quite literally risking life and limb in the name of progress, more necessary, even when it's not exactly fun. The Austrian said in a "Today News" interview that he didn't enjoy the jump, but had trained for it for five years and did not hesitate when the moment came.

"In my mind, I did that jump many times. I was ready to go," he said.

Speaking to him from mission control throughout the fall was the comforting voice of Joe Kittinger, the decorated American pilot and Air Force colonel who previously held altitude and speed records for his 1960 jump from 102,000 feet. During Kittinger's mission, a suit malfunction caused his hand to swell to twice its normal size. He ignored the pain, said a short prayer, and stepped out anyway.

Now 84, he spoke to Baumgartner in an attempt to keep his mind occupied and awake throughout the four-minute, 20 second plunge.

At the same time, somewhere over the Mojave Desert, an 89-year-old Chuck Yeager sat in the back seat of an F-15 as it broke the sound barrier once again, 65 years to the day after he did it the first time.

Some things never change.

Email: janoski@northjersey.com

Former Pequannock police captain devotes time, work to maintaining trails

MONDAY, NOVEMBER 19, 2012

BY  STEVE JANOSKI

STAFF WRITER

SUBURBAN TRENDS

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Take a look at West Virginia's Dolly Sods wilderness on a Google Earth map and you'll see one, maybe two stray roads cutting through what is otherwise a vast expanse of hundreds upon hundreds of acres of untouched forest.

PHOTOS COURTESY OF ED LEONARD

Leonard works to split a tree that's fallen across a trail in the sprawling Dolly Sods Wilderness in West Virginia.Leonard (left) with the other members who made up his group of Wilderness Volunteers during his 2012 trip to Dolly Sods.

While spending seven days performing manual labor in that wilderness, miles from even a hint of cell service, might not sound like the ideal vacation for some, for former PequannockPolice Capt. Ed Leonard it's not only a getaway, but also a chance to give back to the natural world that he has devoted so much of his life to.

Leonard, 64, has always been a self-described outdoorsman who could "sit in the woods and watch the trees grow all day," but on his most recent trips, he's been actively helping the park services maintain its thousands of miles of trails through the programs run by an organization named "Wilderness Volunteers."

According to its website, the group was created in 1997 as a 501(c)(3) nonprofit to work with public agencies like the National Park Service (NPS) to organize volunteer trips into "America's wild lands" to assist in performing upkeep work that might otherwise never be done.

Leonard, who lives on Manor Avenue, is a trail supervisor for Pequannock's Mountainside Park and is long accustomed to performing those tasks. Introduced to the Wilderness Volunteers by his nephew, Mike Leonard, he seized what he thought to be a "great opportunity" and took his first trip in 2011.

On that expedition, he and a handful of other volunteers hiked 7 miles into the 47,815 acre Cranberry Wilderness in the Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia, set up a base camp, and for the next week, reconditioned about a mile-and-a-half of trail.

West Virginia storms can be brutal on the narrow paths. Washouts, fallen trees and limbs, and the total disappearance of the marked routes can be a regular occurrence. The volunteers' job, he said, was to go in and clear them out by removing rocks and fallen trees, rebuilding trails, and reinforcing them with stone where necessary.

"It's pretty strenuous," he said. "You have to be in a little bit of condition to do it."

Leonard, who admits that it takes a "certain breed of person" to go into the woods entirely dependent on what they're carrying in their pack, was hooked, and he returned this past October to a different part of the park — Dolly Sods — with another group of volunteers to once again rely on their axes and the strength in their spines to give something back.

By the time the sun sets, workers are eager for dinner. The food, said Leonard, is provided by the National Park Service and is surprisingly good. Afterward, they use their leisure time to talk, take pictures, fish, and unwind however they so choose.

The program is not without danger — in the interest of "keeping it wilderness," he said, the trails are sparsely marked, and no power tools or mechanized vehicles of any kind are allowed. If someone gets hurt, they're a long way from any kind of help.

"We stress that when we're out — be careful with the equipment. If you fall down and break a leg, it could be six or 10 hours before you get help," he said.

On his 2012 trip, he said, the NPS gave the group a small pocket device with a satellite connection that could send out an SOS if necessary, but that doesn't shorten the trek in.

Despite that danger, Leonard said that the sense of purpose that clearing a trail gives is immensely rewarding.

"It's such a feeling of accomplishment at the end of the week. You feel like you made a difference for the trails, and for the people that you'll probably never meet but you made the trail better for them," he said. "It's a good feeling."

Leonard and his group have already been invited back to Dolly Sods, he said, and he suspects that he will wind up there again in 2013. Of course, he is also considering visiting a more adventurous site somewhere in Colorado or Arizona.

One thing is certain, however: when he goes, he's going on his own. His wife, he said with a laugh, does not come with him.

"She understands my love for the outdoors and she's very supportive with it…(but) she's not a hiking/camping-out person," he said.

Email: janoski@northjersey.com

A behind-the-scenes look at the presidential race

Superb article about the final months of the presidential race... truly well done on the part of the New York Times.

http://www.nytimes.com/2012/11/08/us/politics/obama-campaign-clawed-back-after-a-dismal-debate.html?pagewanted=1&_r=0&hp

New Jersey's reason to believe

It was long after midnight that I came upon him, sitting in the dunes of the Seaside Heights beach, wearing the flannel jacket I’d let him borrow some time during the infamous occasion known to high school seniors as "prom weekend."

He was (and is) one of my closest friends, and we had gone down the Shore to celebrate the ultimate mile-marker of freedom that was graduation.

As expected, the three-day party had gotten way out of hand, and ironically both of us had sought quiet respite by the ocean for that final night. Although I can’t remember what we talked about, we lingered on that sand for hours, drinking beer, smoking cigarettes, and staring out at the surf that lends a raucous soundtrack to every minute of every day down there.

Ten years later, in the wake of the most ferocious storm in state history, Governor Christie said it best: that Shore of our youth, with the memories of so many lazy days and long, wild New Jersey nights, is now gone.

The boardwalk has been annihilated, the amusement-park rides lay in cold, watery ruin, and the dancing carnival lights have been extinguished.

It didn't stop there, of course. The destruction isn’t limited to that lovely stretch of coastline, and even those of us who have sat on mile-long gas lines only to return to homes that lack heat, electricity, water, or phones are lucky when compared with those whose houses were destroyed by the thousands of trees felled by Sandy’s wrath.

Bad though it may be, the shock is wearing off. It’s time to remember that all is not lost and that the comments from individuals hinting that although the Shore will be rebuilt, it "will never be the same," simply have no place here.

We must remember, always remember, that we are from New Jersey. Yes, we may be bloodied and bruised, but then again, we’re used to that. We live in the shadow of the most spectacular city on earth, and we are the eternal pariahs because of it. While New York has always sparkled and gleamed, we grew up in that dark jungleland across the river filled with the outcasts and broken heroes.

Our rough-and-tumble cities, lying under highways and lit by flickering street lights, are ridiculed, our accents are (inaccurately) mocked, and the ever-unfunny "What exit?" joke is constantly uttered by the lips of the idiotic, but still we endure, because all those years of abuse have infused in us a distinctive fighting spirit that lets us face down any challenge, great or small, all the while saying with bared teeth, "Go ahead. Try it."

Yeah, we know that the Shore was never the cleanest, or nicest, or most refined set of beaches in the country, but then we’ve never been the cleanest, nicest, or most refined set of people.

We’ve had that chip on our shoulder since the start, and our darlings, from Jim Braddock and Frank Sinatra to Bruce Willis and The Boss, have always been the underdogs, the mavericks, the ones who were never supposed to win but did anyway — and did it with style.

There are few states as mangled, but as tenacious and gritty, as New Jersey, and few places whose citizens will never stop the fight even when it seems the bleeding just won’t stop.

Make no mistake: we will need to muster every bit of that grit, every drop of resolve, to recover from this, but we must remember who we are and where we come from. Although our homes may be buried under sand and trees and water, we will get up off the pavement once again, as we always have, in spite of the world’s best efforts to lay us low.

Long ago, while facing a different sort of calamity, Winston Churchill famously said, "If you’re going through hell, keep going." Seventy years later, and it doesn’t matter whether that hell is standing alone against the perpetual darkness of fascism, or rebuilding your shattered life in the wake of a natural disaster, we must keep going.

There is no question that we will rebuild, or that New Jersey, like Great Britain, will prove that the most desperate moments in our hardscrabble lives often lead to our finest hours and greatest triumphs.

We will be back. We will be better. And you can count on it.

http://www.northjersey.com/news/177802661_New_Jersey_s_reason_to_believe.html

Pequannock officials, residents angry over slow-moving utility

By Steve Janoski

Local officials are running out of phrases to describe their frustration with Jersey Central Power & Light (JCP&L) as 10 days removed from Hurricane Sandy, just under half of Pequannock remains without power.

On Tuesday, Mayor Rich Phelan said that about 44 percent of the township has no electricity — according to JCP&L's website, that equates to about 1,965 customers — and residents' patience has run out, especially because they're not seeing utility trucks working in the streets.

Weary, frustrated citizens have been calling, said Phelan, but he is no longer sure what to say.

"We don't have a magic number that we call JCP&L on; it's the same phone number that everybody else has," he said. "It breaks my heart to tell them that there's nothing I can tell (the residents)…there's absolutely nothing."

Although he's participated in several conference calls with the JCP&L officials, he called them "a joke," and berated the utility for offering information that has "absolutely no local connection" to what is going on in the streets.

"I don't want to hear how many linemen you have in the State of New Jersey — I want to hear when you're going to get to Sunset (Road), when you're going to get to Jackson (Avenue)," he said. "This has just gotten ridiculous, beyond ridiculous, and there's no information, there's nothing."

He was told that there would be another 1,200 homes restored by Tuesday night, but said that not one had been brought on-line.

JCP&L spokesman Mark Nitowski said that with 51,000 customers still out of power, Morris County is "one of the hardest hit" of the utility's service areas, and that a large amount of tree damage was to blame. And, although he said that the utility has brought power back to about 944,000 of its 1.2 million customers in NJ, that statistic likely provides little solace to those sleeping in the cold, dark houses in places like the Village.

There was nothing in particular about Pequannock that was slowing down the restoration process, he said, but unfortunately, "no matter what storm hits, there's always going to be the one area, the one individual customer…that are the last ones to be restored, and they're going to be frustrated and upset."

However, he still could not offer information about the township, such as what streets will get electricity first or when, and said only that the utility is planning to have "the vast majority" of its customers restored by Wednesday night.

"We appreciate the continued patience…it's just a process to get to that point," he said.

When the outage ends, Phelan said, he's going to be pressing for changes in the way the township deals with the utility. He suggested Morris County municipalities withhold payments to JCP&L to force it to recognize their anger over the affair.

He also wants a point of contact that town officials can call for specific information about their region, and wants a better understanding of the power grid as a whole.

"We're going to actively go after this," he said.

Nitowski said that there is an area manager that handles the region, but Phelan remarked that the rep had offered no local information, only the same responses that the power company as a whole was offering.

Email: janoski@northjersey.com

http://www.northjersey.com/news/177803071_Pequannock_officials__residents_angry_over_slow-moving_utility.html