Do you want to know what I want to know?

Who is the mystery person from the Franklin Institute who is visiting my modest blog?

Leave a comment.

Everyone, leave a comment and visit often.

Thanks.

SPRING IS COMING

Right in our very own yard
Signs of spring

Frank E. Hahn Jr.

Lawyer, 94

Frank E. Hahn Jr., 94, who spent his entire career as a lawyer - 63 years - with the same Center City firm, died Saturday of heart failure at the Fountains at Logan Square, where he had lived since March. He was a longtime resident of Elkins Park.

A 1928 graduate of Northeast High School, Mr. Hahn earned a bachelor's degree in English in 1932 and a law degree in 1935, both from the University of Pennsylvania.

"How can you practice law if you can't write?" Mr. Hahn questioned his daughter, Judith Kramer, when explaining why he earned a degree in English.

Immediately after graduating, Mr. Hahn joined what is now Obermayer, Rebmann, Maxwell & Hippel. He became a partner in 1949. Mr. Hahn stopped working full time in 1986, and worked part time until 1998.

Mr. Hahn was active with the Boy Scouts, serving as president of the local council in 1976. He also was a member of the Cheltenham school board for 12 years.

A member of the board of the Albert Einstein Medical Center, he was chairman of the nursing committee. He also was an active Penn alumnus, serving as president of his class group from 1987 to 1992.

In addition to his daughter, Mr. Hahn is survived by his wife of 70 years, Margaret Berg Hahn; a son, Frank E. 3d; four grandchildren; and 10 great-grandchildren.

Burial was Monday.

I MISS LYNN

I MISS LYNN!

Here's a little drawing I did for you..

Out back

I'm in a weird funk, a strange place, depressed, down, restless. There's this hole, this empty feeling in my chest. My head hurts, my dreams are sad and dark.

I am not feeling well.


Here are some photos I took out back

My thoughts are far away.

In

Bar Harbor
Ann Arbor
Los Angeles
Louisville
New York.

What the hell are we doing in Philadelphia?

ERMINEY POST

Ahh ermines. They are so... erminey!

Feelin' hostile

The I don't mean too be mean post

I mentioned once on this post that most of my artsy good photographs are of nature or animals or stuff, while my photographs of people are more snapshots.
Well, recently I was at a party and took some photos of people there and I think they capture a certain something.
Here's why.
The photos are all of woman or girls, one is a child, one, a teenager, one is my wife who is thirty-one and the last is of two grown-ups, very nice mother and daughter.
Now, I think the photos capture a certain something but they are also unintentionally less then flattering.
So. I'm sorry I'm posting photos that don't flatter, but the variety is interesting.
Once again I have to say, I hope I haven't offended anyone.
ENJOY!


YOUTH IN MOTION



SHY TEENAGER



A WIFE



MOTHER AND DAUGHTER



I know... I know.

Jesus in New York

Ok, we are well off course, but I want to keep up with the posting. So here is the brief beginning of a short story I'm writing. Feel free to leave a comment. I know it's short. It's just the beginning. I also realize that I'm Jewish and this little story features Jesus. All I can say is... I found it amusing. Hope I don't offend anyone, but if I do... shit happens. Enjoy.

Jesus Christ was sitting in a Starbucks in New York when he decided he might like to stir things up again. It's true that this was an often occurrence for Jesus. Every fifty or so years he would become gloomy and nostalgic for the old days and go on a localized bender of healings and miracles before an angel showed up and calmed him down.

He was ahead of schedule, and if one didn't know him better they might think this was unusual. However, unusual was the norm for Jesus, he liked to keep things lively.

The last time he had revealed himself to the world, all be it, just a small part of the world, was in the 1980's during the run of Oh God. The movie stared George Burns as a rumpled God who liked fishing and watered down country music. Though he had liked George Burns in his early radio and television shows, Jesus knew that his portrayal of god had fallen far short of the mark. How do you play a being that enjoys spending millennia in the form of a giant spiraling cloud of dust anyway? Maybe George Lucas could make a passable go at it, but not Carl Riener.

Jesus liked the idea of God revealing himself to a prophet, something he hadn't done in a while, and had never done as often as some stories claimed. So Jesus spent the last part of the 20th century going from person to person, country to country, choosing folks more or less at random, wowing them with some simple tricks, and sending them on either missions of peace or vengeance, depending on the local situation.

No one in heaven who was assigned to control this kind of thing did anything, even after some British tabloids reported on the increase of modern prophets. It wasn't until one of the recent disciples wound up being satirized on SNL's Weekend Update, that heaven decided it was time to pull the plug.

In that particular case, the Jesus situation as it was known, the angel assigned to go to Earth and put the kibosh on Jesus' activities was a former human being named Russell Fein. Fein had been a British expatriate who died on the New Jersey turnpike in 1973, when a junkie in a pickup truck smashed his 1969 Volkswagen Rabbit, a sure way to enter heaven in good graces. It was believed that Russell and Jesus might hit it off, both having been relatively friendly guys when alive, though both suffered severe bouts of depression that came on quickly and lingered for weeks. In addition, both Russell and Jesus had suffered for hours before dying young, both were guy guys, boisterous with their pals but extremely shy around women, and both were the products of over-protective Jewish mothers.

It was a conversation between the women behind the counter and a customer that set Jesus off. Jesus was like that. One moment quietly sipping an Espresso Macchiato with chocolate and whipped cream, thinking about nothing more then the pleasant hum of a pair of flies on the empty table next to him, the next planning a biblical firestorm in midtown Manhattan.

Russell walked over to the table and before sitting down called out, "Jesus Christ, is that you?" loud enough for the dozen or so people inside the coffee shop to hear.

Russell sat down with Jesus and asked him, "do you hate me Jesus?"

"Of course not, I don't hate anyone." So sayath Jesus Christ.

"What about the Romans" Russell asks

"Oh those bastards I hate" responded Jesus, "but I don't hold a grudge. That's not my style."