I am disappointed, but by no means surprised by the level of ignorance that is bound to ramp when the masses glom onto an issue. How quickly we, as a people, can lapse into ignorant prejudice!

This afternoon, I noticed a bumper sticker affixed to a stop sign. The message was: Stop Islam. I stopped the car and peeled off the bumper sticker. I had just as much right to peel it off as some sicko had to stick it to the sign. Free speech. Thanks, Founding Fathers!

We Americans may be the only people on earth whose national identity is defined by its founding legislation, especially Article One of the Bill of Rights. The guarantees within this single article became the values generations of Americans fought and died to protect. How many people outside the US grasp the significance of the wording?

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

What does this mean? It means we are spared the dictatorship of the mob. In America, ignorant people cannot force legislation that restricts the actions of an unpopular minority. It means we have the right to be prejudiced and spew hate speech as individuals, and even gather in angry, pitchfork-wielding groups, but as Americans we must provide sanctuary for religious freedom and protect the right of our opponents to deliver their points of view no matter how bitterly we disagree.

These values did not come from European roots.

During the Dark Ages, when the Moors, Islamic invaders from Africa, swept into Europe, they instituted a policy of religious tolerance that was radical by European standards. This fact was admired by our Founding Fathers, especially the Freemasons among them, like Washington and Franklin, who credited the Moorish Invasion with igniting the Renaissance, saving scientific thought, and protecting minorities like the Jews from religious persecution. The same year the Moors were driven off the continent, the Inquisition and full scale persecution of the Jews began. The Founding Fathers, by studying the results of the free exchange of ideas and tolerance, concluded that freedom of speech and religious practice was critical to the creation of the type of society they envisioned: an individualistic paradise where anyone (which, in those days, meant any white male) could go as far as his intellect and work ethic would take him. In a historic sense, we owe part of the First Amendment to a traditional Islamic value.

The triumph of the Tea Party means that we Americans, like our forefathers, continue our historic mistrust of big government. We do not want our freedoms curtailed, and we certainly reject being told what to do, but we often will not hesitate to tell others what to do, whom to marry, what to smoke, what to wear when riding motorcycles, what guns to keep, what to wear or to write about in public schools, or even how long to keep the grass on our lawns. Sometimes we overstep our bounds, and then the First Amendment is there to rein us in.

The anti-Islamic climate in this country is disturbingly reminiscent of the anti-Japanese sentiment prevalent after the bombing of Pearl Harbor, or that creepy form of racism practiced against blacks in Boston in the 1970s. No matter how bad public opinion pressures lawmakers, I hope we never betray our core values, as expressed in the First Amendment by seeking to limit religious freedom, the way it is restricted in less tolerant countries, like France and Switzerland. For God’s sake, we don’t want to considered French, do we? That’s a worse insult to the average American than being considered a liberal.

By historical standards, anti-Islamic sentiment is not nearly as official or onerous as other ugly hate episodes in our past. Historically, we have legislated hatred against Native Americans, Blacks, Mormons, Catholics, Japanese, and Gays. Prejudice is not unexpected. Ignorant people will hate, because hatred is easy. But just in case you’re feeling a certain way about Islam, if you think that Muslims are terrorists, just read what the US Department of Defense says:

According a study by The Combating Terrorist Center at West Point, Al Qaeda has killed eight times as many Muslims as non-Muslims throughout the world. Muslims are by far the greatest target of extreme terrorist organizations throughout the world. The government of Saudi Arabia was even concerned the Al Qaeda would attack Mecca, Islam’s holiest city.

To claim that Al Qaeda and the Taliban speak for all Muslims and claim that Islam is a terrorist religion is as ridiculous as saying that the Ku Klux Klan speaks for all Christians and that Christ’s message itself is racist.

On November 16, 2010 Muslims around the world begin the three-day feast of Eid. Part of the celebration is a prayer asking for God to grant forgiveness, bestow mercy, peace and blessings to all living creatures on the earth – yes that includes you, whatever bumper stickers you might be affixing to stop signs.

You may disagree with my point of view, but in the spirit of the holiday, I wish you God’s forgiveness, mercy, peace and blessings. Happy Eid.

For today’s column, I first want to thank everyone on their response to the poem “I am BP”, and also thank everyone for their patience. I haven’t written in a while, and this is because of some exciting news: After a 20-year dry spell and hundreds of attempts with five different manuscripts, I have sold a book to a publisher. The book is called “Little Hawk Teaches Storytelling”, and it will be published by Findhorn Press in 2011.

I suppose I can use my own experience as an example of how the fulfillment of lifelong dreams are a consequence of an economic downturn. When I lived in Argentina, where I had gone to seek my fortune in the 1980s, the hyperinflation and absolute desperate economic conditions had an unintended side effect: since we had no way of getting conventional jobs in that economy (the conditions in Argentina would have made the current U.S. economic conditions seem luxurious – the money situation was so bad that at some point, beggars started refusing local currency) we all focused on fulfilling our craziest dreams.

This year, I have struggled to find work. I registered as a substitute in Toms River Regional Schools and was only called once, at the end of the year. Just as I had back in Argentina, I had nothing to lose, so I spent my time writing. I have been gathering wild edibles for lunch every day.

As a result, I am doing more of what I love than ever before, and while riches haven’t come, at least yet, I am having my most successful year as a writer in 22 years.

As hard as it seems, I suggest that all of you out there that are struggling economically to see this time as a window God is opening for you. You, laid off office worker who is a karaoke queen – maybe it’s time you form a band. You, laid off welder who likes to tinker – maybe it’s time to work on that invention. You, acne-cursed basement dweller, maybe it’s time to create an online game. You, community-minded retiree, now may be a good time to run for office, or start an internet radio talk show.

This economic downturn is a wondrous time to be a dreamer.

You will never again in your lifetime have so little to lose from going after what you truly want. Temptation to join the ranks of convention will never be so low and unprofitable again. To paraphrase lyricist Tim Rice, you now have “every disadvantage you need to succeed.”

Liberty and prosperity, the practical motto of our once-practical state are really yin-yang opposites. The more prosperity we have, the greater the pressure to embrace the conventional path, whether or not it brings us fulfillment. While I’m quoting song lyrics, freedom really is just another word for nothing left to lose. When you’re as likely to find a job as an elementary school teacher as you are a rock star, then it’s time to start growing your hair.

By the way, if I had read this article before I had gotten the publishing contract, it would have probably depressed me. “Yeah,” I would have thought. “It’ll never happen to me.” And what I would have done to make myself feel better is stop reading, pick up my pen, dreamed of a shinier future, and started working on it.

Let freedom ring.

Earlier this week, the Riverside Signal received the illustration and poem found below from columnist, Frank Cipriani, on his thoughts about the BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico.

I used to be a big fan of TV version of Little House on the Prairie.

In that show, town activity was clearly centered around the church, which also served as a schoolhouse. When the family later had to move to the big city, the producers cleverly contrasted the smalltown virtues with the vices of the big city (Sleepy Eye) by making the saloon the center of urban life. Because our small river towns do not have local schools that go beyond the fifth grade, our local schools cannot reflect the civic character of our town. To find some location that defines a town, we need to look elsewhere.

This is the height of the most important time of year along the river- baseball season. I wonder if every small town along the river has some activity that defines them. My family often goes to walk or jog in Island Heights, for instance, and we notice that many people choose to promenade there. Is promenading the major source of community interaction in Island Heights? Where are you most likely to meet and interact with people in Beachwood, Pine Beach and Ocean Gate? In some communities, like my own, South Toms River, the baseball field has replaced the community church as the center of social activity and civic responsibility. We are a diverse community united by love of the game, and what we all feel is an obligation to help our children learn to play. In South Toms River, we are, in some essential way, defined by our baseball field.

Like any community activity, baseball has its rituals and traditions, its zealots and its lukewarm members. The truth is, you cannot understand anything about what drives South Toms River unless you visit the baseball field. Of those who’ve sat on the council over the last four years, both mayors and at least four council members have served in some capacity in our league. The Community Club, which runs the league, is the single largest voting bloc in town.

How does baseball help shape our town character?

At its best, baseball teaches us that that perpetual child in all of us is asleep, not dead, and that those latent dreams of glory against all odds can still be awakened by the crack of a bat. It teaches that we all have a moment in which we can step into the spotlight and show our detractors that they’ve underestimated us. It teaches that hard work and proper training, or very little work and lots of talent both can yield results. It teaches the importance both of teamwork and of individuality.

At its worst?

Well, through its coaches, baseball can tell a kid he’s useless. It can show the empassioned, ugly side of otherwise mild-mannered adults. It can reveal almost every conceivable vice in the light of raw emotion. It really tells us who we are, and who we’re proud (and ashamed) of being.

Umpiring a game recently, I witnessed the intentional walking of an eight-year-old, and another intentional walk the next level up. I am confident that no issue I have thusfar written about will be more controversial than the one I am about to raise in this article: At the lower levels of competition, and I’d venture to say, even up to the senior level—an intentional walk is a vote of no-confidence in your pitcher, and you shouldn’t do it. Here’s another controversial statement: What a coach does during practice is his own business. He should not yell at his players during a game, especially when the visiting players come from other towns. Ultimately, the most important rule is this—do not expect your children to behave any better than you do. You’re the example they follow.

People come from all over the area to play baseball in South Toms River. It’s a friendly, often low-pressure environment. We have many girls on our teams. If you come, you will play. People around our field say that we’re under a disadvantage because the coaches at the middle school are somehow tied with the Beachwood/ Pine Beach leagues, and I couldn’t even venture an opinion on that score. In any case, I don’t believe that the league I know and love is that much different from the other leagues, except that in the case of South Toms River it is literally the only organized game in town.

So does our game reflect our town?

We call ourselves “The Little Town with the Big Heart” and “The Little Town with the Big Mouth”. Both statements are true. No question the town is big hearted and all-inclusive. Our very founding was a rejection of intolerance. We are comprised of the hardworking and the lazy. We have a tendency to feel that the rest of Ocean County dismisses us, underestimates our contributions. We are both exemplary in our teamwork and stubbornly individualistic. We’re a town of so many cursing, drinking, smoking loveable characters who would do anything to help the very neighbor they would also gossip about. Our leaders have unusual histories that in other towns may have meant that they could not get elected, political “bench-warmers”. Our party affiliations on a local level have absolutely nothing to do with how the party stands on issues either statewide or nationwide. In our town, we have a deep and abiding belief in rising to an occasion, and on this basis we have taken gambles as voters that have paid off with dividends.

Here is what I ask the rest of you: Is there some activity or central location that defines your town?

If I were to chose such a location in Toms River, I’d say it is the public library. You can run into everyone there, but how many people are actually reading books? Most people are socializing or on the computer. But that’s Toms River. In your town, Where would you go to meet your neighbors? Does sailing or soccer say something about Beachwood, do the many activities conducted by the Pine Beach Municipal Alliance somehow define the character of Pine Beach? And what of Ocean Gate? Where would I go to casually run into any of my elected officials if I lived outside of South Toms River? Is the hub of activity centered around the beach? Do I have to promenade to meet the people of Island Heights? And then, how do those central activities help shape your town’s identity? I’d love to hear your responses.

What’s the center location or organization that defines your town?

Frank Cipriani

How do we honor our heroes here in Ocean County? Not very publicly.

In ages past, buildings, parks and streets were named for heroes – often those of the local variety – who had selflessly given their lives in support of the cause of liberty. Now, politics makes such expansive gestures unlikely.

Almost ten years ago, the ballfield at Mantiou Park was in a ruin. As far as I knew, no plans had been made to repair it. A small group of volunteers decided it would be nice to fix up the park, find funding and name the park for a local hero, Jackie Hester, who had served with distinction in the 82nd Airborne, and had died of Gulf War Syndrome due to toxins she had been exposed to in the 1991 conflict. When the naming of the park was proposed, several individuals stood to speak. I remember one woman in particular standing to say she could think of no better person to name the field after than this athletic woman, who had sacrificed her life to liberate Kuwait, and who left two young sons behind.

Then it got political.

Someone else stood and said that there were “other worthy people”, such as a former mayor of Berkeley, and that the neighborhood should put the naming to a vote. I remembered that things started to grow a little contentious. The Hester family decided that they did not want to associate Jackie’s name with anything that may divide the community, and asked that her name be withdrawn from consideration.

Therein lies the rub. Politicians and public officials are no strangers to controversy. That’s how they get things named after them. Families of private heroes, soldiers and quiet community activists don’t have much chance to be recognized in such a charged environment. A battle over honoring such people opens old wounds, and leads to divisions in the community that, while ignored by thick-skinned public figures, cut to the quick for the families of these true heroes.

Have you guessed where I’m going with this? The Ritacco Center.

Here’s how I come down on the whole issue:

As a parent of children in the school district, I am underwhelmed by what our superintendent has done to promote education in the school system. I tell my friends we are “more Sparta than Athens”, that our SAT scores and percentage of kids going on to college borders on shameful, but it isn’t really out of whack with the performance of other districts in the local area. The school hasn’t lifted our kids, merely reflected the status quo. The placing of sixth graders in the intermediate school, when every available study shows that performance, behavior, and future success is hampered by this measure, shows that our schools will do the minimum to get by academically. The lack of outcry at the district’s mediocrity shows we’re OK with this.

As a taxpayer, I think Mike Ritacco is a genius, and if I had no children in the school district, I’d be ecstatic. I, too, have heard many stories of the superintendent intervening on behalf of individual students in the district to help them to meet graduation requirements. Whatever the outcome of this recent investigation, I think that we in this community find our superintendent to be a nice guy, and if he did mess up, we’re more scared of what his replacement would look like than we are outraged by any alleged impropriety.

Now let’s take a look at an idea brought up and celebrated by a small but growing faction of local Facebook members, who wish to rename the center after one Vincent Frassetto.

Vincent Frassetto, who was killed in action at age 21 serving his country, was a Toms River High School North student, played football for North, and lived in the community.

As worthy he is of the honor of having a building named for him, we should not rename the Ritacco Center after Vincent Frassetto. The Frassettos in many ways typify the Ocean County population. They aren’t very different from your family or mine. What distinguishes this family is that its core values gave two of its sons the courage to put themselves in harm’s way as Marines on the front line. The Frassettos exemplify the ideal of a family inculcating the value of sacrifice in the service of country. In this, they set a standard for future Mariner families, and in fact, for future parents and students throughout the school district.

We can easily follow a chain of events between the Frassetto family’s sacrifice and the fact that since September 11, our very vulnerable nuclear power plant has not become the subject of a terrorist attack.

Superintendents come and go, get their excellent pay, receive accolades in the community, and their job is indeed important. However, when a student enters a building that houses rallies and graduations, it should bear the name of someone considered to be family. That name should bring a lump to the throat, and a pride-filled tear to the eye. Naming a place should be a way of saying three things:

1. Thank you.

2. Your family will always be part of our family.

3. All who enter here should be willing to go and do likewise.

That’s why, if it were up to me, I would rename the Ritacco Center the Frassetto Center, not after Vincent Frassetto, but after the whole Frassetto family.

For me, whenever I step out onto the wonderfully refurbished field in Berkeley for a baseball practice, I whisper a quiet thanks to Jackie Hester, a woman I never knew, and thank her family as well.

Whatever they call that ballfield in Manitou Park, the spirit of that athlete-warrior and the sacrifice of the family that cherished her is on my mind. When you walk into the Ritacco Center, whatever they choose to call it, remember to whisper that same quiet thanks to the Frassettos.

by Frank Cipriani

What’s up with global warming?

What happened this winter?

What does the future look like for the climate in New Jersey?

Can we do anything to stem the tide of global warming?

Most importantly, what will the weather be like for the upcoming youth baseball season?

Dr. David A. Robinson is my new favorite state official of any kind. Who is he? The state climatologist. During a recent telephone interview, he patiently answered my naïve questions, using terms I could easily understand, but I still may get some things wrong, so I’ll try my best to let you know what we discussed.

Dr. Robinson has been state climatologist for the last 19 years, which, while not significant in geological terms, is certainly longer than the tenure of most of our governors. Luckily, this job is not a political appointment and Dr. Robinson is a well-qualified scientist who received his PhD from Columbia University.

What makes a person a climatologist? Well, it seems that you need to be interested in the elements (as in weather and chemistry both) and pay attention to the sky, enjoy keeping fastidious records, tend to be system-oriented, enjoy puzzles, and really be okay with droughts. Dr. Robinson says he gets hundreds of interviews whenever we enter a period of drought.

Lately, he says climatologists also need a thick skin. Back in the day, “people used to think that a climatologist did your hair, but that was before the awareness of global warming.” In today’s politicized national, regional and local stages, climatologists are accused of perpetuating a hoax, resulting in some of Dr. Robinson’s colleagues receiving death threats, which seem to me as sort of like shooting the messenger, or stepping on your bathroom scale and then smashing it when it tells you how much you weigh.

So what’s going on the weather? What about global warming? Where is the Jersey shore going to be in the next hundred years? When will my South Toms River home become beachfront property? And how many rainouts are we going to have the season when the community club takes the field to play little league?

The first thing I found out is that water levels in South Jersey are rising faster than in North Jersey. And that’s not because so many out-of-shape bennies head south. Instead, it’s due to a process that started 10,000 years ago when the last glaciers retreated from northern New Jersey. Like the big kid on a seesaw who suddenly jumps off, but about 10 billion times slower. The weight of the North Jersey ice elevated South Jersey, and as the glacier melted, South Jersey, the skinny kid on the other side of the seesaw, fell towards the earth, or in this case, the ocean. It’s been falling ever since. A change in sea level in South Jersey would have occurred no matter what we humans did to warm the planet. The problem is that for those in Cape May and other points south, two phenomena are occurring simultaneously: the rebound from the glacier, and the rising volume of the ocean.

Are sea levels rising? Dr. Robinson’s prognosis is that there could be a continuation of warming over the next 5,200 years and the sea level could increase by about a yard over the next century (he, being a scientist said “one meter”). Precipitation could increase and we could have wetter weather and altered seasons.

What will the changes look like for communities along the river? Well, a rise in the water table would affect the coastal beaches, the back bays, estuaries and wetlands, and would lead to excessive flooding, which, in turn, would make the impact of future storms more damaging to the coast. I probably will still have to wait over 100 years to have my beachfront property, but I’m not digging a basement.

After a little chat on doom and gloom, I commented about how interesting it must be to have a climatologist at a dinner party, especially after the unusual winter we just had. Dr. Robinson let me know that Ocean County almost set the record for the coldest spot in the state this year; eight degrees below zero was the record at High Point in the North, and we came within one degree of that. Miller Airport registered seven below zero in December. He also told me that among the many weather stations located throughout New Jersey that he can monitor, lots of counterintuitive data keeps pouring in. For instance, the two coldest spots in New Jersey on that beautiful 60° day we experienced in early March were in Long Beach Island and at High Point, both registering temperatures in the 50s when the rest the state was 10° warmer. He also told me this fascinating fact: 3 am is often the hottest time of day in the summer along the Jersey shore, when winds out of the west (coming over land) tend to warm our area, while by 3 pm, easterly sea breezes tend to cool the air, and that phenomenon of seeing our kids wrapped in towels with chattering teeth and blue lips occurs because 3 pm is the coldest part of the day.

So, the big question is, of course, does the evidence suggest that we humans are really contributing to global warming, and is there anything we as individuals can do about it?

To both questions, Dr. Robinson says yes. The average person living along the Jersey shore can help reduce greenhouse gasses and make a real contribution on a global scale.

“Think in multiples,” he said, noting that in a state of 8.7 million people, if each person conserved energy, there would be a difference. “Our biggest impact can be made in the way we use energy. We need to do things more efficiently, run errands in a logical pattern, and take mass transit when available. It does add up, and it makes economic sense.”

We may not be the only cause of global warming, but we are one of the contributing factors.

I also found out one thing that will endear our climatologist to the heart of every red-blooded resident of Ocean County: The man was a little league coach for 14 years.

So, I got to ask him the question he has been asked a million times: what’s the prognosis for the baseball season?

I realize it would be difficult to get an answer. The man is a scientist, and while he can’t engage in speculation based on so many unknowns, as a fellow baseball coach, he knew I needed some sort of answer.

“The fields are really wet, won’t take much to keep them really wet and soggy to start.”

“Okay, Dr. Robinson, but how many rainouts will we have? You already predicted a stormy winter season. So, speaking from little league coach to little league coach, what do you think the weather will be like this spring?”

Dr. Robinson finally acquiesced to my request for this information, all the while warning me that his answer was pure speculation. “Weather will still be on the wet side this spring.”

So now you’ve heard it. All you league commissioners, give the regular season a couple more weeks for rain make-ups before planning your All-Star games. And jog to practice.