Tuesday, July 31, 2012

Jon's Jail Journal Supports Punk Feminists Pussy Riot

These women shouldn't be facing seven years for singing "Mother of God, cast Putin out!" inside Moscow's Christ the Saviour Cathedral in February. These mothers of small children have been held for months on remand on hooliganism charges.




 Shaun Attwood

Monday, July 30, 2012

Sportsman's Daughter



My oldest is once again working as a Counselor at a YMCA camp on the Eastern Shore. This Summer she is a water-ski instructor and works on the Waterfront with the kids. She is having a tough Summer in some respects because there have been some serious thunder storms that swept thru the region and the camp sustained some serious damage. Her last session campers were boy-crazy and this made her cabin duties an adventure.

However, she still loves the place and the people. This weekend she was home for time off with 3 co-counselors. One of the girls was from Wales...the Camp has many foreign exchange counselors and it really enhances the experience for all this kids. The girls enjoyed a cook-out with us and we took them to see the new Batman film. They departed bright and early Sunday to get back for the start of a new session and I miss my daughter already! We will get some time together in the Adirondacks in a few weeks but she leaves for her Sophmore year of College shortly after we get back.

I love this photo of her sent to me by one of her friends...it captures her million kilowatt smile and her love of water skiing and watersports...she is a great kid and a joy.

Friday, July 27, 2012

My Manchester Book Signing Saturday 28th July

Here's the info: Waterstone's, Trafford Centre, Barton Dock Road, Manchester, M17 8AA (0161 749 8623) from 11am until 4pm.

Click here for all of my 2012 signings

Shaun Attwood

Thursday, July 26, 2012

Rheingau Musik Festival, Windsbacher Knabenchor at Wiesbaden Marktkirche

Knabenchor, 26-JUL-2012
N    aturgemäß dirigiert er [Lehmann] anders als sein Vorgänger Karl-Friedrich Beringer, aber mit nicht minder intensiver „sprechender” Gestik und Mimik... enorm saubere Intonation, ausgereifte, homogene und ergreifende Piani, flexible Phrasierung, aber auch, wenn nötig, ein raumgreifendes, sattes Fortissimo... ist diese Perfektion nicht Selbstzweck, sondern dient dem musikalischen Ausdruck, der Textausdeutung, der Architektur des Stücks.

[Naturally, Lehmann conducts differently than his predecessor, Karl-Friedrich Beringer, but with no less intense ‘talking’ gestures and facial expressions than he... enormous clean intonation, mature, homogeneous and poignant piani, flexible phrasing, but also, as necessary, an expansive, lush fortissimo... This perfection is not an end in itself but serves the musical expression, the interpretation of the text, the architecture of the piece.]”
  —  Klaus Kalchschmid, Süddeutsche Zeitung, 07-MAY-2012.

S ing Bach and Mendelssohn in the dwindling twilight, with your dark blue suits and brilliant white shirts and long necktie or bowtie depending on your tenure with the choir.

S ing without ambition or guile. Sing like your sound can fix all that is wrong with the world, as it seems now very plausible to us in the audience that it can. Yes, we are sure of it.

O h, and yes, sing, if you can manage it, when your choirmate behind you on the 5-tier risers has just had the audacity/impudence to hoist your underwear and give you a ‘snuggy’ while Martin Lehmann is looking down at his score preparing to embark on the next piece, in this concert that is being recorded for CD. The smiles of your neighbors reveal how hard it is for them to maintain their facial and vocal composure amid such hilarity and extreme risk.

Y ou and some of your fellow singers in the choir have dead-on perfect pitch; some have a vocal maturity beyond their years; some of the younger ones have an innocent sound that will soon be lost as their experience of the world accumulates.

T he unstoppable beauty of your sound in this 2-hour concert is nearly impossible for us to bear. Afterward, we walk in the dark over the cobblestones back to our hotel and think about this, grateful for the sonic/spiritual gift you have given to all of us—a miracle of Olympic-level vocal performance and musicianship that seemingly has come without sacrifice of your ineffable boyness or your individual truth.

Holy Dog Water


Holy Dog Water, 26-JUL-2012

Wednesday, July 25, 2012

Rheingau Musik Festival, Piano Trio at Schloß Johannisberg

Piano trio, 25-JUL-2012
W   hen the unexpected and non-functional seventh chords of mm. 5-6 yield to the relatively stable A minor of m. 7, the significant aural affect is heightened...”
  — William Hussey, MTO 2003;9(1).

T he performance last evening (of Shostakovich’s Op. 67 in E minor and Tchaikovsky’s Op. 50 in A minor) at Schloß Johannisberg by the piano trio comprised of Erik Schumann (violin), Leonard Elschenbroich (cello), and Anna Vinnitskaya (piano) was exceptionally good. These artists, each of whom is approximately 30 years old and each already with a number of competition wins and honors and awards behind them, are superbly matched to each other in terms of their musical vision or interpretive conception of each of these pieces and in terms of their playing style. That they thoroughly enjoy playing together is palpable and plain for all to see in performances like the one in the Fürst von Metternich Saal last night.

I n the last movement of the Tchaikovsky, Schumann broke a string. The music stopped, and the audience was expecting some confusion on stage—at least a 10-minute break while the string was replaced. The trio exited the stage, and we were astonished to see them return less than 3 minutes later, the violin re-strung and tuned. They took the last movement again in stride—with expressive coherence and emotional continuity as if no interruption, no catastrophe of breaking a string had taken place. Tremendous!

T he entire performance was admirable, but, for me, the poignancy of the first movement of the Shostakovich—and of the passacaglia—was especially compelling emotionally. The high-pitch harmonics in Elschenbroich’s walking figures at the beginning, with Schumann’s violin notes much lower, and Vinnitskaya’s piano in the depths below that—create a sense of profound danger and loss: as if denoting a war-time sorrow that has not fully registered with those who have experienced the loss, and as if it will take a lifetime to register it. The techniques include artificial harmonics excited at intervals other than a fourth. Different artificial harmonics can be produced by touching a perfect fifth above the stopped pitch, which sounds an octave higher than the note under the touched node. Another artificial harmonic is sounded by touching a major third above the stopped pitch, which then sounds two octaves above the lightly-touched spot on the fingerboard. Naturally, the pitches of these high-register harmonics are far less precisely controllable than ordinary stops in normal register—so the expressive effect is one of scary tight-rope walking, or great anxiety, or coping under great pressure and external constraints.

T he linear chromatic lines and their mercurial, untrustworthy melodic direction beg the questions ‘Where will the line end? Will it end?’ This cadence created by melodic contrast opposes traditional diatonic cadence mechanisms and tampers with our emotions. Hussey terms this ‘cadence by contrast’ in his analysis of the passacaglia in Shostakovich’s Op. 67, and, based on the experience of last night’s concert, we can say that when it is executed with conviction it is a really powerful rhetorical device!

T he slippery, descending chromatic bass lines in the cello and the piano erode our sense of certainty and demolish any comfort zone to which we might nostalgically have hoped to cling. This piano trio is, to me, Shostakovich in 1944 describing the conjectured future, now become our present 70-years-on fully-materialized reality. No more conjectures; no more chances to choose again.

T here are exuberant, happy figures in Op. 67, to be sure. But the overall effect of these, juxtaposed with the poignant and tenuous content, is ironical or backhanded horror-inducing. Fantastic performance; we went home with lots to absorb and think about!


Buddies With Benefits









































One unique benefit of hanging around other sportsmen and hunters is the gift of game meat. There are many tired old jokes about not being able to give away extra fish one has caught. Such is never the case when one of your gang kills a wild boar.












Recently my fellow sportsman and attorney Marc was fortunate enough to stalk and shoot a large wild pig. There was copious amounts of meat butchered off this monster and I was the lucky receipient of nearly 40 lbs. of prime wild swine. I grilled some of the tastier and more tender cuts this weekend. Last night I set about making a Wild Boar Ragu with some of the less desirable cuts. This recipe is based on a Northern Italian peasant recipe and is served over Paperdelle pasta. The process requires about 3 hours of slow simmering after construction but the resultant rich and flavorful ragu is just devastatingly delicious.












The process is as follows:






Procure some wild boar(if you are a non-hunting candy ass or do not know a boar slayer,you can use pork shoulder or order boar from D'Artagnan but it ain't the same.)




This reminds me of a joke about Albanians told to me by an Albanian bartender: The recipe for roast lamb, the National dish of Albania, begins as follows: First, steal a lamb.....






Chop 2 large yellow onions and saute in olive oil in a Le Cruesette or other suitable cast iron vessel. Add 5 cloves of chopped garlic and then add the cubed pig. I add a few of the bones(to be removed later) in order to impart more rich flavor to the dish.






After browning all the meat add 2 cans of chopped tomatoes followed by bay leaves(5)sage, basil, oregano and salt and pepper. Next a few anchovy filets. Then add about 2 cups of decent red wine. I used a Chianti.






As the mixture begins to simmer add 2 or 3 tablespoons of red wine vinegar and a few cloves. Toss in some red pepper flakes and then reduce heat to simmer. Place a lid on the vessel but leave it a tad ajar so steam can escape and so the mixture reduces.






Simmer for 3 hours or until the meat is falling apart and much of the liquid is reduced. If you have a kitchen "wand" with a strong motor you can whack the mixture a few times to foster a smoothness while still leaving a fair amount of chunks. Plate this sauce over wide paperdelle pasta and give each serving a healthy crown of freshly grated Parmagianno.






Serve with quality Itailian Bread...Sarcone's from Philly is best on the planet....some good Red Wine and a Ceasar salad.






I suggest a Nocella or Limoncella with an Espresso afterward to ward off the food coma symptomatic of your urge to gorge on this entree...perhaps a cigar as well. . This Wild Boar ragu knocks the crap out of any wimpy Bolognese you may have ingested in the past...there is really no comparison.






So when some hipster or city dweller or non-hunter asks if I actually eat what I kill....I smile and say yes....and describe this meal as an example....and advise that they would pay 28 bucks a plate for the pleasure in a restaurant....but it would not be the same since the boar would be farm raised and not wild.













Tuesday, July 24, 2012

Sports Advice

This inspirational poster was featured on the Facebook page of a local youth lacrosse team..the Dukes. I am searching for a method to impart this wisdom to my son. I have first tried by example...but he seems to miss the message.

From Frankie (Letter 17)


Frankie - A Mexican Mafia hit man and leader of prison “booty bandits,”  who saw me rubbing antifungal ointment on the bleeding bedsores on my buttocks at the Madison Street jail, and proposed we have a gay prison marriage.

Englandman,

I received your letter. As always, the pleasure is all mine. At the same time, I’m hoping this letter finds you in good health. As for me, I’m thinking when I get out of going to Mexico and buying a fake passport, and flying to England to show your hairy ass that Frankie ain’t no joke. Just cuz you’re in England don’t mean nada. “Frankie owns you!”

Well, my friend, let me tell you what happened two weeks ago. I’m in school, Rio Salado, and there’s this gay guy that works there. He’s an inmate and the porter. Anyway, every time I took a piss I caught him trying to take a peek. He was in the closet washing the mops when I walked in, and pulled my dick out. I told him, “Is this what you’re trying to see?”
His eyes got big, and he said, “That’s a good one.”
I kept teasing him, and he said, “I bet you have a lot of girls,” meaning gays in here.
I told him, “Only a couple.”
He said, “I like to keep everything on the down-low.”
I said, “I don’t care what anyone thinks. No one tells me to do nothing.” I told him to suck it, but he wouldn’t cuz he didn’t want to get busted by others.
Anyway, we didn’t do anything. The teacher went on vacation, and today the gay guy told me that he can’t sleep cuz all he’s been doing is thinking about my cock.
I left him like that, but today he wanted me bad, and I played hard to get cuz I gave him a chance and he blew it.
I’ll tell you when it happens in my next letter, but I’m thinking of just teasing him until he wants it real real bad.

Well, my friend, I had bad luck with the food package you sent me. The Mexican I had you send it to moved to another yard right across the street. I missed it by one week. I’m eligible for a food package this month, so if you’re up to it could you reorder me the same stuff. I thank you for looking out for me. I appreciate it very much.

Englandman, get your hairy butt to writing. As soon as I get out I will contact you.

Tell your Mom, Dad and Sister I send my love.

Much Love & Respect

Frankie


Shaun Attwood

Monday, July 23, 2012

Music in the Vineyards: Rheingau Festival ‘Musiker in Weingütern’

Wildes Holz, 22-JUL-2012
D   rei Musiker - eine Mission: Die Befreiung der Blockflöte vom schäbigen Ruf eines Kinderspielzeugs! [Three musicians, one mission: Liberation of the recorder from its seedy reputation as a children’s toy!]”
  — Wildes Holz.

S ometimes an event is just so good you have to pinch yourself to check whether or not you are dreaming. That is surely the case for the ‘Musiker in Weingütern’ events, part of the Rheingau Festival near Frankfurt/Wiesbaden. The performance I attended yesterday at Weingut Baron von Knyphausen was full, approximately 2,000 people attending at 32 euro each = €64K ticket sales, plus concession sales.

S eating was at well-shaded picnic tables with benches seating 8 persons per bench, 16 persons per table. The picnic tables were arranged under a U-shaped configuration of large wind- and weather-proof tents, with the stage in the center of the U. On each side of the U, the tables were deployed with their long axis pointing toward the stage. The grass aisles between adjoining tables were wide enough to enable attendees to quietly and easily come and go without disturbing their neighbors. Each table was numbered, and each numbered seat was assigned and ticketed—so that attendees purchasing tickets were able to select the location and price-level of seating they preferred, in just the same way as they would for a concert in a concerthall—with the assurance and peace-of-mind that they will not be subjected to a jostling free-for-all, of the sort that is associated with ‘general admission’ to a sold-out performance.

T he geometry of the tables and benches arranged in this manner meant that every member of the audience had one shoulder toward the stage (or else straddled the bench or rode the bench side-saddle to face the stage) and had a fine view of the performers throughout.

T he performance began at 16:00 sharp and continued until 20:00. Children played in the grassy space in front of the stage. Despite vigorous play, not once was there noise or rough-housing; not once did a parent have to collar a child to stop any misbehavior. The adults consumed generous quantities of wine but not one became loutish or disruptive. In short, a wonderful afternoon was had by all!

Wildes Holz, 22-JUL-2012

E ach of 4 ensembles played for 35 minutes with 25 minutes interval for set-up and sound-checks for the next group, during which the attendees had ample time to go to the concession tables and buy food, wine, and water. Sound reinforcement was expertly done, with excellent miking and engineering from the mixing deck, and sufficient monitor speakers arrayed all around the tent area.

T he tents and awnings were of extremely heavy-weight vinyl-coated materials, so that even in a 5km/hr light breeze they made absolutely no flapping or extraneous noise.

T o make this sort of a 4-hour collaboration succeed, the following elements are essential:

  • Musical repertoire must be relatively robust (not ‘loud’ surely, but with tempi and phrasing that will be gesturally clear even under less-than-ideal acoustical conditions), so that the sound reinforcement will be adequate to enable the performers to be understood without listener annoyance, even if there is some wind.
  • Musicians must possess abundant poise and confidence to face unexpected contingencies gracefully and with humor.
  • Catering and front-of-house staff must be knowledgeable, skillful, and energetic in their roles. They must behave as though their employment depends on their performance. Presenters: Do not imagine attempting an event of this size and complexity with volunteer or trainee resources or staff who have a laid-back or entitlement attitude, or who cop a touchy ‘artistic temperament’ when they are in contact with the public.
  • Food and beverage concessions must offer a menu with a wide variety of choices ranging from small snacks to mains and desserts, deliver them rapidly to customers (from steam-tables and other logistically efficient equipment), and handle cashier operations swiftly.
  • Lavatory facilities should be dispersed throughout the periphery of the venue, so that access is quick and reasonably dignified for all attendees regardless of their seating location and queues do not form. Wineries are accustomed to catering large events with substantial ingress and egress of fluids and are expert in maintaining appealing aesthetics with these necessary functions. This is no time for cheap, smelly temporary johnny-on-the-spot sheds.

A n event like this has, I would say, approximately equal opportunities and risks for the winery and for the performers. The attendees and their word-of-mouth social network communications about their wine-music experience are a portal to viral opinions about both products—the wine and the music. Both products face intense competition and market-saturation. And, to be honest, both products tend to address market segments that are somewhat older—35 years and up. There should be more music-wine events like this! (There are a few, such as Music in theVineyards Festival in St. Helena, California, and Huntington Estate Festival in New South Wales.) But there is an unmet need here. There should be far more events like these! In summary, [chamber/small-ensemble] music-in-vineyards is a perfect blend, and Weingut Baron Knyphausen and the ensembles yesterday harmonized perfectly on this sunny Sunday in July, to the total pleasure and memorable benefit of all.

Wildes Holz, 22-JUL-2012

Sunday, July 22, 2012

Boxing News

I have not given you much in the way of boxing news of late. However, I am thrilled to report the Heavyweight I manage, Joey Cusumano, was victorious last evening. He scored a 1st round Knockout at a small boxing venue in North Carolina. He is now 4-1 and this was another small step on the path to a shot at a World Title. stay tuned.

Saturday, July 21, 2012

Martin Stadtfeld: Inspired Runtime Indirection

Martin Stadtfeld, Wiesbaden Kurhaus, 19-JUL-2012
T   he Busoni transcription is] absorbed in itself, moving round itself, decidedly turned away from the world... brooding; Beethoven-ish.”
  — Hugo Riemann.

A   lthough Bach set verses from Luther’s ‘Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland’ nine times, many of the same Advent themes run through all the settings. Subtle nuances and theological allusions point to various verses of the chorale text, and the cantatas remain a starting point for the interpretation of the organ works.”
  — Anne Leahy, in Zager, p. 95.

M artin Stadtfeld’s performance of Mendelssohn’s Klavierkonzert Nr. 1 g-Moll op. 25 with Sir Neville Marriner and Academy of St. Martin in the Fields at the Rheingau Festival was exceptional—a young man’s composition, performed with a young person’s sensibilities and energy. It simply sang!

B ut Stadtfeld’s 4’30” encore (Ferruccio Busoni’s transcription of J.S. Bach’s BWV 659 ‘Nun komm, der Heiden Heiland’) revealed a maturity and grasp of life’s setbacks and aporias: it was teleological, driving purposefully toward its goal(s) with pragmatism and propensity toward acceptance, yet with an open-heartedness/open-mindedness that still has room for hope.

S tadtfeld’s left-hand is quiet... ‘reticent’, as recommended in the performance notes in the original Breitkopf & Härtel edition of Busoni... enabling his melodic right-hand to have the terse prominence it requires. The tenuto and agogic accenting in the right-hand, in turn, conveys motives that are… pregnant.

T he expectancy was such that Stadtfeld impressed us that he himself was discovering things as he went, even though he has performed this prelude many, many times in the past... ‘sehr ausdrucksvoll mit vollem Anschlag.’ Many notes—the touch he applied to them—were, to me, like variable values in a software module that were resolved and bound at Stadtfeld’s pre-concert preparation—at ‘compile-time,’ so to say. But there were equally many that are only resolved on a moment-by-moment basis during performance (runtime). The balance between these lent a tremendous liveliness and interest and vibrancy to the performance of this beautiful Busoni transcription.

I t is, for me, analogous to the difference in software between a layered design with subroutines and an object-oriented design with event-handler methods. The terseness of the left-hand is such that Stadtfeld expresses not a human resoluteness but instead a process in Nature, something that is immutable, like mortality; not at all deterministic, but inevitable in the sense that human wishes and intentions cannot change the outcome.

I n software engineering terms, the Busoni-Bach left-hand module is a ‘wrapper’ and encapsulates the right-hand module. The left-hand ‘service’ owns a set of ‘objects’ with ‘handlers’ that share the same state. State is possible to preserve across invocations as the figures recur over the 3 pages of this transcription. It lends nicely to cooperation through message passing communication. Stadtfeld’s multiple levels of runtime indirection... reveal the extent and fate of our wishing and desiring.

E ach object has three parts: a component implementation, an export interface, and an import interface. Export and import can be modeled with runtime constructs specifically designed for component wrapping and interface adaptation, such as interception techniques for runtime resolution. The trills, for example, amount to handshake interfaces between right-hand and left-hand parts.

L iabilities of interpretations that entail generous amounts of runtime indirection include (1) variation-point management [adding and binding variants at a late moment in time implies extra work for managing and implementing variation points] and (2) predictability [a large amount of variability makes it virtually impossible to test all combinations during rehearsal]. But the merits of ‘romantic,’ liberal runtime indirection include danger, surprise, and excitement of the sort we were thrilled by on hearing Stadtfeld’s inspired performance of this Busoni-Bach ‘Nun komm’ Zugabe. A tiny encore that emotionally surpassed the gifts of the excellent, larger concerto that preceded it. Bravo!

Feruccio BusoniIndirection
M   athematics is the heart and soul of music … Without question the bar, the rhythm, the proportion of the parts of a musical work and so on must all be measured … Notes and other signs are only tools in music, the heart and soul is the good proportion of melody and harmony. It is ridiculous to say that mathematics is not the heart and soul of music.”
  — Johann Mattheson, 1743, ‘Neu eröffnete musikalische Bibliothek’ 2:54.

Thursday, July 19, 2012

Visiting Death Row (by Charlotte)


Prisoners’ rights advocate, Charlotte, is a wonderful lady who helped me at several book signings. She recently flew from London to Florida to visit her boyfriend, Troy, on death row. In the last decade, DNA evidence has shown that hundreds of prisoners on death row were set up by prosecutors and detectives looking to appease the public and advance their careers. These men were freed but no charges were ever brought against the criminals working in the legal system. Most of the States fight against and won’t pay for DNA tests. They’d rather innocent people be executed than the legal system be proven wrong.  
I looked down the row of small round metal tables with the numbers scrawled on the sides in black marker pen. Some were already occupied by people on their own either sitting nervously or making themselves busy wiping the surface down with damp paper towels. As I walked down the aisle I noticed that each table had 4 metal stools joined to them. Well, that’s going to be comfortable, I thought. I located number 7 and sat down, placing my small see-through bag that contained all that I was allowed to have with me onto the table. And there I sat for what seemed like an eternity.
The events of the last 10 months had led to this day. I had started writing to Troy in July last year and we had become close very quickly. After looking into his case very thoroughly I soon came to the conclusion that he was innocent and I had to do all that I could to help him prove it. We had started discussing me going to see him in Florida at the end of last year and finally at the beginning of February I was allowed onto his visitor list and plans were made that I would go and see him. So after what seemed like a lifetime ago I had boarded the plane at the end of May from Heathrow airport that would take me across the Atlantic to meet him for the very first time.
I arrived at Union Correctional Institution in Raiford at 7.15am on the Saturday morning. There was a canopy with 4 benches outside the entrance where a crowd of people were already gathered. I spotted one of the women that I already knew and called her name. Petra came over to me and gave me a big hug. ‘Charlotte, you’re shaking’, she said in her thick German accent.  I was as nervous as I’d ever been in my life. I was going to be entering a maximum security prison for the very first time and I had no idea what to expect.
Shortly before 8.15am the people in the group started moving towards the door. Everyone lined up in the strict order as to how they arrived. After a little while the first five people at the front of the queue started entering the building, and then as they were processed we all followed in one by one. I stepped into the entrance hall and saw before me a lady behind a glass partition with a barred gate on the left and right side of her. I waited patiently as the people in front of me entered their ID numbers into a machine and had their palm prints electronically taken. I was told that a few years back an inmate and visitor had changed clothes whilst in the visiting room in another state and it had led to the inmate escaping. Now the palm prints are taken on the way in and on the way out before you are allowed to leave to make sure they match. Then they were given a piece of paper with their photo and that of the person they were visiting, once they had shown the lady behind the glass their IDs. When it was my turn I approached the glass.
‘It’s my first visit,’ I said quietly.
‘ID please Ma’am,’ she responded.
I passed my driving license through a slim slot at the bottom of the window and waited. She took the details from my ID and put them into the computer. What seemed like an eternity later she said ‘Go and stand by the wall to have your photo taken.’ I did as I was asked and went back to the window to wait for my piece of paper that would give me access to the place where I needed to go. She passed it back through the slot along with my ID and said ‘Next.’
I stood in front of the barred gate on the right hand side as I had seen others do. A couple of seconds later there was a loud buzz and the gate opened. I walked through, along with another lady that had been processed the same time as me. BANG! The gate slammed behind us. That’ll be where the word “slammer” comes from then, I thought to myself. A door on the right led through to the search room. It consisted of a long line of tables, a metal detector and a screened off area at the end. Firstly, after placing my bag on the table I walked through the metal detector and breathed a sigh of relief when it remained silent. Then I walked to the lady who was searching through the bags, and she made a note of everything that was in there. $50, car key, tissues, tampons, and then made a note of all the jewellery I was wearing. One ring, one watch, one necklace with 2 charms. Then I went into the search area. There was a female guard the other side of the partition.
‘Take your shoes off and show me the soles of your feet,’ she barked. I did as I was asked. She picked up my shoes and had a look inside and felt around them with the tips of her fingers.
‘Stand with you back to me with your legs spread and your arms outstretched at your side.’ Again I did as I was told and she very quickly and efficiently patted me down. I turned around to face her and put my shoes on. There was one last thing I had to do though. ‘Flick your bra out.’ I just had to hold the bottom and shake it so if there was anything hiding up there then it would fall out. Of course there wasn’t and I could go on my merry way. I walked out of the search room and towards another barred gate. Again it opened automatically, I walked through and again it slammed behind me. I turned to my right and walked down the corridor towards another set of guards sitting at a table. This time I had to hand over my driver’s license and they gave me an ID. Then I carried on towards a set of double doors and through into the outside again.
I remember my friend Giusi saying ‘Just keep to your left when you get outside,’ and there ahead of me was a gate with the words Death Row written on them. On the other side of the gate there was a long ‘corridor’ made out of fencing and razor wire that was to take me to my destination. Again I heard a buzz and I opened one of the last barriers that I had to pass to get there. The next thing I knew I was sat on that cold metal stool waiting for him.
The men started coming through the door one by one, all of them dressed in an orange top and white threadbare trousers. I kept looking at my watch as the minutes ticked by. At 9.15 the door opened and in walked the man that I knew so well but had only seen in photographs. He walked down to the sergeant’s table to let him know he was there and then approached  the table where I was sitting with a huge smile on his face. I stood up and he gave me a bear hug that I will never ever forget….
I’m not going to go into the details of our 3 visits that weekend, but what I will say is that it was the probably the happiest places I have ever been. There was so much love and laughter in that one small area that you would never believe that you were in the visit park of death row.  And the hardest thing that I’ve ever had to do in my life was leaving on that last day. How it felt to leave him in that hellhole defies any words, but I felt as if someone had thrust their hand into my chest and ripped my heart out, the physical pain was immense. But it’s made me determined to go back, and I will!
My blog about Ray Krone, an innocent man my attorney, Alan Simpson, saved from death row

Shaun Attwood

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

Canine Commandments

One of the Sporting/Hunting sites I follow posted this very relevant list of rules. particularly relevant are No.s 4 and 10. Many dog owners like the concept but not the responsiblity. They take no time to train the dog or spend sufficient time interacting. Then they wonder why the dog is ill-mannered and misbehaves. If you do not know how to train a dog...LEARN. Most areas have dog training classes and clubs to teach you how to teach your dog.

No. 10 made me choke up. As you may recal I posted a while back about holding my dear Dixie when she was put down at age 16. My other hunting dog Archie is now retired at 11 but still spry and healthy. I am working with Genna as posted yesterday. I ahve commented on the special bond between hunter and hunting dog....but these rules apply equally to any dog/master relationship. Take the time and nurture the bond between you and your dog.


Monday, July 16, 2012

Mud and Sunflowers

























I had to drive my Son back to Camp on the Eastern Shore yesterday. It was "changeover weekend" and he also had a Lacrosse tournament in Jersey on Saturday. Going to the Eastern Shore provides an excuse to shoot East from there and go to the Duck Hunting club for some off-season dog training.


It was a scorching and humid day but standing in the shade along the river near the Point Blind provided a bit of relief....enough to throw a duck bumper for Genna for about 20 minutes. She did about 20 water retrives and swam her yellow lab ass off. She was having more fun than anyone hitting that water. I enjoyed watching her and squishing my bare feet in the cool tidal mud along the bank. We did some field retrieves and she performed well the whole time. She is going to be ready for hunting season.




We then drove around the farm and checked on the Sunflower fields. Despite the recent drought the field looks good. We plant this feed lot to attract doves for our Club dove hunt when the season opens in Spetember. The shooting is a real challenge and the reward is succulent grilled dove breasts washed down with icy cold beer from and old galvanized tub....by the way...try adding salt to the ice in the vessel in which you chill beer . The same action that takes place on your driveway in Winter operates on your brewskies and gets them colder than cold. Trust me it works and is worth it. Careful when guzzling....can lead to brain freeze headache.