From Paris With Love

There were so many incredible things that happened over the weekend, but none more devastating than the attack on our innocence. Terror took front stage on Friday and our innocence was the victim. But rest assured good prevails, as it always does because evil has no place amongst our existence. Yet we are changed as a world, and we now know that this cowardice act of terror will NOT, can NOT, become commonplace. The lives of the innocent that were lost will never be forgotten and this war we are fighting will somehow bring justice to a broken hearted world.

The words of the victims/survivors tell a story of courage, love and triumph for life; not at all what the hate that entered into the city of Paris on Friday night intended.
I came across this today when I was going to post something different entirely-and I am humbled by this young girl's resolve and by her courage.

This is the Facebook post of  Isobel Bowdery, a young college student who attended the rock and roll show at the Bataclan Theatre in Paris on Friday night:

"you never think it will happen to you. It was just a friday night at a rock show. the atmosphere was so happy and everyone was dancing and smiling. and then when the men came through the front entrance and began the shooting, we naiively believed it was all part of the show. It wasn’t just a terrorist attack, it was a massacre. Dozens of people were shot right infront of me. Pools of blood filled the floor. Cries of grown men who held their girlfriends dead bodies pierced the small music venue. Futures demolished, families heartbroken. in an instant. Shocked and alone, I pretended to be dead for over an hour, lying among people who could see their loved ones motionless.. Holding my breath, trying to not move, not cry – not giving those men the fear they longed to see. I was incredibly lucky to survive. But so many didn’t. The people who had been there for the exact same reasons as I – to have a fun friday night were innocent. This world is cruel. And acts like this are suppose to highlight the depravity of humans and the images of those men circuling us like vultures will haunt me for the rest of my life. The way they meticoulsy aimed at shot people around the standing area i was in the centre of without any consideration for human life. It didn’t feel real. i expected any moment for someone to say it was just a nightmare. But being a survivor of this horror lets me able to shed light on the heroes. To the man who reassured me and put his life on line to try and cover my brain whilst i whimpered, to the couple whose last words of love kept me believing the good in the world, to the police who succeded in rescuing hundreds of people, to the complete strangers who picked me up from the road and consoled me during the 45 minutes I truly believed the boy i loved was dead, to the injured man who i had mistaken for him and then on my recognition that he was not Amaury, held me and told me everything was going to be fine despite being all alone and scared himself, to the woman who opened her doors to the survivors, to the friend who offered me shelter and went out to buy new clothes so i wouldnt have to wear this blood stained top, to all of you who have sent caring messages of support – you make me believe this world has the potential to be better. to never let this happen again. but most of this is to the 80 people who were murdered inside that venue, who weren’t as lucky, who didnt get to wake up today and to all the pain that their friends and families are going through. I am so sorry. There’s nothing that will fix the pain. I feel priviledged to be there for their last breaths. And truly beliving that I would join them, I promise that their last thoughts were not on the animals who caused all this. It was thinking of the people they loved. As i lay down in the blood of strangers and waiting for my bullet to end my mere 22 years, I envisioned every face that I have ever loved and whispered I love you. over and over again. reflecting on the highlights of my life. Wishing that those i love knew just how much, wishing that they knew that no matter what happened to me, to keep belieivng in the good in people. to not let those men win. Last night, the lives of many were forever changed and it is up to us to be better people. to live lives that the innocent victims of this tragedy dreamt about but sadly will now never be able to fulfil. RIP angels. You will never be forgotten."

Moments Of Madness

This story is very sad. It's not reported  here to gossip or point a finger at anyone. I share it becausre maybe someone will learn something. Maybe this madness will stop. Maybe no but maybe yes and that one maybe makes it all worthwhile.

Jared Remy, son of beloved Red Sox announcer and former player Jerry Remy, murdered his girlfriend in cold blood last Thursday. An enraged Jared stabbed Jennifer Martel several times in a struggle that went from inside the apartment they shared to the outdoor patio. Two of their neighbors tried to stop Jared from stabbing her to death outside their Waltham, MA apartment. Sources say they punched, kicked and screamed for him to stop, but his fury continued and didn't stop until she was dead.

Their 4 year old daughter was in the house at the time.

Herein lies the caveat:
Jared was arrested for assault and battery the Tuesday before the slaying,  for smashing Jennifer's head into a mirror. The DA released Jared Remy on his own recognizance. Today the fingers are pointing all over the Middlesex DA's office and they are firmly denying any wrong doing. The facts of this case are blinding: Jared has a long rap sheet filled with violence. Since 1998 Remy has 15 counts of violence, six if them assault and battery on three different women.

Now the community wants to know how this happened. Middlesex DA, Marian Ryan, is attempting to explain this away by saying the victim herself is the best judge of saftey.

“Everything we know, both from the research and from 
experience in doing these cases, is in the 
majority of these cases, the best assessor of safety is the victim herself,” Ryan told the Herald, referring to Jennifer Martel, the mother of Remy’s 4-year-old daughter. “Miss Martel was declining to extend the restraining order that had been issued the night before.” Ryan said.


I'm not a DA and I don't play one on TV, but I'm thinking this monster slipped through the cracks somehow. I understand that Jennifer didn't want to extend the restraining order, even I can see that she was scared. LOOK AT THE GUY!!! He looks like a bad guy and I don't say that to make you giggle. There is nothing funny about him or this. It's obvious to me that his guy has a roid/rage problem. He looks terrifying and most certainly is terrifying, but why did it take the senseless death of a young woman to solidify that?

Lots of people are saying lots of things about Jerry Remy, his father who is a very public figure here in Boston. Things like that's why Jared got away with it so many times before. If that is true then we all share in the blame for Jennifer's death. I find it hard to believe that Jerry Remy's name carries that much weight in the court system or that we hero worship ourselves into looking the other way, but the facts here are the facts. There is no way that monster should have been alowed to live with a woman, let alone a woman and a child. Their village failed. No one saw this coming? Maybe they were afraid of him too but this family breakdown is a cautionary tale.

Bottom line: If it looks like a bad guy, talks like a bad guy and walks like a bad guy, then it's a bad guy.
If only it were that simple. Jennifer would be alive today.

Pin Up Terror

Really Rolling Stone?

There is a distinct difference between these two covers.
Discuss.....

Beloved Boston

I wasn't there.

Neither my kids nor my husband were there. We were all safe.

She in NYC, is the one who alerted me of the events via text. He, safe on the golf course with my dad, 70 miles away from the war zone. My husband ensconced safely at his desk and I, enjoying a rare day off with my mom.

I wasn't there, but I could have easily been there like I had so many years before.
I can only share with you how most of us Bostonian who live here felt when the first waves of info came in:

It was 3:15, and I'm shopping at Neiman Marcus in a local suburb. Frick texted me. It read, "Mom, did a bomb go off at the marathon?" "Are u there?" "No."I replied." H/O"

I stopped, and searched the web on my iPhone. I googled Boston Marathon 2013. Nothing. I searched some more nothing. I then searched "bomb at Boston Marathon." I found the footage. I clicked on to the raw video and heard the news that a bomb had gone off at the finish line of the Boston Marathon. The report  said it was a, "horrific scene". It went on to describe bloodied streets and loss of limbs and I immediately went into safety mode. I started mentally checking off my family members.

That's what everyone that lives here did.

The first text was sent to my best friend. She lives in Boston and is an avid runner. I knew the answer before I finished typing the text, so I immediately placed a call to her seconds after I pressed the send button. I couldn't wait. She answered, "I'm ok." She was crying.
"Thank God," I said. "Were you there?"

"Can," she said between sobs. "I was right there. I had just decided that it was getting cold and that I had shit to do and that it was time to go home." "I felt the blast behind me and turned to see the smoke."
I was so glad she was ok. So glad she was safe. So shocked that she had been so close. She hadn't even called her mom. I let her go, telling her I loved her and to call her mom.

Then I went over the familial list:
I come from a large family and the majority of us are 20-50. Prime Marathon viewing years. The texts began furiously. While I was walking through the store, word got out and people everywhere could be seen either talking on their smartphones or looking at their smartphones. I drove home because no one really wanted to NOT be in front of a TV at this point and we listened to Boston Sports radio, which turned into news talk on the ride home. It was an uneasy next few hours as we awaited word on the family safety. It wasn't until 6:15 that we knew for sure that both my 26 immediate family members were ok and my husband's 11 members were safe. We were lucky.

Then the worst news of all came.

3 people had died and one of them an 8 yr old boy.

Hundreds of people had been injured. It was worse than we could have imagined. I felt at that moment that life had changed.

We were glued to the TV for the rest of the night as I'm sure you were too.

Trying to make the best of a horrid day which was no happy holiday after all.

I Was Just Going To Say...

I intended to talk about happy Christmas music today, but it just doesn't seem right in this forum.

The Pat's played one heck of a second half last night, but this morning it doesn't really matter. My beloved Boston Herald and I, together this morning have set the tone for the day.

As much as I try, and generally succeed in going on with my life, those little faces, the unspeakable horror creeps in and causes me to hold my children close. Frozen almost, in fear of what could happen, a constant reminder of the evil that lives among us.

I heard my daughter say, "I don't want to talk about it," and I was frozen again, unable to move the important conversation forward. I don't think I wanted to talk about it either. But I did talk to my son. I had to explain to him that his high school will be on lock down today. That visitors must make arrangements to gain entry and that he cannot enjoy the privilege of open campus any longer. He understood completely, once he realized how quickly copy cats can strike and how precious life is.

I know it won't always feel like this. I know I'll tell funny and inappropriate jokes and talk about the frivolousness of life again soon on The Daily Dandy. I just knew it couldn't be today. It doesn't feel right.

I also know I'll try to never forget. I can do that for them. It's just about the only thing I can do for them.

Could The Signs Have Been There All Along?

There's been a story in the news for the past few days and I can't seem to get it out of my head. I guess it hits a little too close to home for my comfort. In the simple little town of Mont Vernon, New Hampshire, a 42 year-old mom and nurse was slain savagely by teens with a machete, her 11 year-old daughter's throat slashed and leg broken, all because they just so happened to be at home. They were victims of a random attack by a group of teens who made a pact to commit murder at a home they chose at random. You can read the story here, or I'll do my best to give you a brief re-cap of this horrific crime.

Four male teens, ages 17-19, alleged "skinheads", decided they wanted to go on a thrill kill. They chose a home at random and agreed to kill anyone who was in the home. Unfortunately for 42 year-old Kimberly Lynn Cates and her 11 year-old daughter Jaimie, whose husband was out of town on business, the teens chose their home. Authorities report that Kimberly, who was slain as she lay in her bed, never had a chance as her precious daughter's throat was slashed and left for dead. Jaimie, somehow managed to call 911 and survive the attack. Today she is in critical condition at the local hospital.

This one sent chills down my spine. I decided to talk to my kids about this crime, not to scare them, by any means, but to make them aware of the possible signs of teens and "anti-social" behavior. Yes, these teens were labeled "skinheads", all with close shaven scalps. They were labeled, "troubled", and the picture of Steven Spader, 17, Christopher Gribble, 19, William Marks, 18 and Quinn Glover, 17, twists ever so curiously. But how do you really ever know what these troubled kids are capable of? And the question begs to be asked, how do you prevent it?

The alleged ring leader, Spader, is a 17 year-old drop out who friends say had no fear. An 18 year-old who graduated from the same high school Spader once attended said anonymously:

“Because when you see a kid who looks like he has no fear, you become afraid. (Spader) said whatever he wanted to anybody. He didn’t care what the principal said. They’d tell him go to class. He wouldn’t. They’d suspend him. He didn’t care. Authority was nothing to him.”

So I ask you, was this a walking time bomb ticking? What are we, as a society, to do about something we have virtually no control over? Can we forsee, predict or better yet, prevent a senseless tragedy by looking out for the signs? Do we lock up all the goths or skinheads to protect ourselves, simply because a few deranged and evil apples spoiled it for the rest of them? I wonder. This is certainly not the first time teens have gone on a thrill kill mission, nor will it be the last, but for some reason, this one hit me like a ton of bricks.

Maybe because it could have been me. And it could have been you, or a loved one or a cherished friend.

Gone forever just for the thrill of it.