Breaking Bad in Happy Valley

The much lauded AMC series Breaking Bad is mesmerising in its expert, intricately woven story directed beautifully through the finest detail. It's precise like a thematic chemical reaction that loans an air of authenticity rarely found on TV.

Among the myriad of human entanglements portrayed in Breaking Bad is the notion that someone wicked and evil can appear right before your nose without presenting a single clue. In this its final season, there is a scene where DEA agents Hank and his partner Steven are sharing a drink with their retiring boss, George Merkert, in his office when it becomes evident that George can't forgive himself for not recognizing who the druglord Gus Fring really was. He laments having invited him into his home and among his family when the camera deftly stops on Hank's face alluding to his brother-in-law Walt, who has been perpetrating the meth explosion Hank seems powerless to stop, chasing a mythical figure named Heisenberg.

The truth is sometimes stranger than fiction. As such, it is hard not to see a correlation between this show and the massive scandal that has shaken Penn State University to its very core. Although it would appear that Joe Paterno may have known more about his coach than initially suspected, it is clear that Jerry Sandusky's child molestation remained undetected for many years.

I had a chance to catch up with my high-school classmate, Gerald Filardi, over the weekend at our reunion and I asked him if there was any notion of this scandal while he starred there from 1994 to 1996 at linebacker. He shook his head with the same disbelief that we all did when the allegations of abuse were finally brought to light. This idea that evil could be right in front of our nose while we are completely unaware is deeply disturbing.

In the wake of the recent massacre in Aurora, Colo., I again find myself searching for answers. Were there any signs? Could we as a people have prevented this tragedy? How can we detect the next human time bomb before it detonates?

I don't think there are any definitive answers, but it is clear that the human personality has many facets and often the public facade we present is all there is to go by. Sometimes it is judged fairly, other times not so much. I am reminded of the line from the brilliant film Miller's Crossing where Tom Regan says, "No one knows anybody. Not that well"

The quest for answers could lead into a greater philosophical discussion about the journey of self and the struggle we all share to determine who we are and what our life is about, which may only deepen the mystery. Maybe ignorance is bliss ... until the next bomb goes off.

Sun Bleached and Beautiful

A summer shower falls oh so gently on the hood of my Jeep while I put off the day's errand and head to the beach where I'm greeted by the sun-washed jagged stones that stand guard over the Sound while the sailors, runners, bikers and fishermen weave in and out.

Tod's Point, Greenwich, CT

I pause along route, too lazy to fiddle with the automatic windows, and amble to a nearby bench facing the island of Manhattan. A fisherman jabbers that the fluke are small, but it looks like a meal to me. The doldrums have set upon the sailing school so that the women lay across the bows of the dead ships paddling wistfully while others hop overboard to cool off or perhaps answer a desperate nature call.

Two runners approach as if they popped out of a hi-def screen airing the Olympics from London. They are tall and lean wearing hardly anything. I follow the long-legged woman for a bit until I feel useless and out of shape, so I hop back in the Jeep and spin around the Point at a cruising speed of 15 mph, letting the cyclists race past as I glide into a spot by the beach. A few dedicated goers shuffle through the sand while others get their laps in, no doubt competing against the great Michael Phelps in their minds while they battle the wakes from the yachts that drunkenly drift about without a care in the world.

Local Baywatch

The lifeguard stands are abandoned, while those on the town payroll sip coffee and stare at the horizon. Then I see the unmistakable red swimsuit and a perfectly tanned beauty brush her sun-kissed hair from her face while she listens intently to her handsome counterpart as they traipse barefoot over the tarmac which would be too hot to do on a busy day.

The smell of the sea is in my nostrils and I look forward to rendezvousing with the clam-lady at the farmer's market in a few hours where I will buy a dozen to throw on the grill, careful not to blow out my flip flop ala Jimmy Buffett and feeling rejuvenated, sun-bleached and beautiful like an ethereal horizon.

New York City view from Tod's Point, Greenwich, CT