Our Crazy, Noisy Dogs
I was awakened this afternoon (staying at home with the flu) to these crazy noises of our dog Buxley playing with Andy. I got up and shot this to capture the hard-to-believe noise he makes.
Andy and Me on Thanksgiving, originally uploaded by danielgreene.
Andy & I went with my dad to Thanksgiving at the Phoenician this year.
Andy received a link to this YouTube video this morning, and I was so happy to see it. Our friends who got married last weekend are going to adopt, and Andy and I have talked about it. Here’s to all those kids who have two fathers, and to all those male couples with children! A marvelous Dutch video with English subtitles.
Last weekend, Andy and I photographed and videotaped a wedding of two friends of ours, a male couple who had a country-western “cowboy”-themed wedding at Mormon Lake Lodge in Mormon Lake, Arizona (about a half-hour outside of Flagstaff).
I will post more photos later, depending on the willingness of our friends, but for now, here’s a photo I took while I was outside the cabin taking photos of the beautiful trees and flowers.
Okay, maybe I’m bragging a little, but I would like to tell you something about my family and their involvement in the performing and visual arts.
I am grateful to my family for passing down their tradition of performing and visual arts, and for encouraging me in my artistic endeavors.
Ernest Charles Greene
May 9, 1911 – February 8, 2004
My grandfather died last Sunday evening, and for me, this marked more than the end of one man’s life. It marked the end of Granny and Grandpa, the only couple I’ve ever known that loved each other so much and stayed together for so long, seemingly without ever fighting. Grandpa’s death also marked the passing of the last of my grandparents. Though I count myself lucky to have had grandparents well into my thirties, I was nevertheless deeply stung by the final disappearance of an entire generation of family.
Ernest Greene was actually born Ernest Greenberg, and his father changed the family name in 1918, when Grandpa was seven years old. I can only guess the name change was a safeguard against anti-Semitism or enmity toward Germans. He had a younger brother named Howard, a father named Abraham, and a mother I was lucky enough to know until I was four years old, Grandnanna Gertrude Greene. In photos I’ve seen of Grandpa in his youth, he was a striking young man with a full head of blond hair. He was a boxer, and he was also a jazz trumpeter and harmonica player. As I heard it, he met my grandmother, Helene Kupferman, at work; she was the boss’s daughter. Early photos of them show a playful young couple striking poses at the beach—him showing off his biceps and her kicking a leg to the side like a flapper doing the Charleston. When I looked through these photos with Granny years ago, she said, “Weren’t we cute?” They were.
I first met Ernest Greene when (More …)
My grandmother, Helene Kupferman Greene, lived to the age of 88, and is survived by her husband, Ernest Charles Greene (my grandfather); her two sons, Ernest Charles Greene, Jr. (my uncle Chuck) and Andrew William Greene (my dad); her two grandsons, Daniel James Greene (me) and Benjamin Furman Greene (my cousin); her dog, Whiskey II, and close friends and family members, most notably Elaine Patterson, who has cared for my grandparents ever since my grandfather’s stroke in 1985. Elaine became like an adopted daughter, and her two daughters, Michelle and Marta, became like granddaughters. Granny was so happy to finally have some girls in her family!
My grandparents would have been married 65 years this February 2000. In addition to being a superb wife to her husband, and mother to her two boys, Helene Greene was a model, saleswoman, real estate agent, award-winning painter and interior designer. She was a woman of great passion, creative talent and patriotism. She loved her country, family, pets and friends dearly. She had a soft spot in her heart for animals and contributed generously of her time and money to organizations such as The Humane Society and many others.
Granny had an uncanny memory for the lyrics of songs. She wasn’t the best singer in the world, but (More …)