2015
Holiday Haunts and Jaunts
29/12/15 06:50
And all through the house nothing was stirring not even a mouse. I'm sitting here in my usual morning spot at Starbucks in Queensbury NY on an early Sunday morning the Sunday following Christmas in the year of the lord 2015. The only mouse in sight is the mouse that I don't have to use as I navigate this here keyboard in an effort to get a few idle notes down on "paper" before they escape me completely. Mice too will go the way of the dinosaur as technology advances giving sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, and limbs to those lost in wars waged across the continents. I read something yesterday about disappearing currencies and it occurred to me that I seldom use cash myself and would not shed a tear if coins and dollar bills went away overnight. Now that toll booths have become largely obsolete with the advent of replacement technologies I find myself more tolerant when it comes to saying good bye to the mainstays of my earlier existence. For the most part, the bit players left on the scene have been dragged off the stage of life not kicking and screaming but rather receding into history without so much as a whimper. Their obituaries, for the most part, are yet to be written but most stayed too long and none will be celebrated and may even be mocked for not doing enough to reinvent themselves before their livelihoods faded into oblivion.
Did I mention that I'm here in Queensbury, New York with Nancy and Evan for a Christmas celebration? Who knew I would wake up before daybreak to find that rain had fallen overnight and the temperatures outside were well above freezing. At this time of year? The hotel is largely unoccupied due to the absence of snow and tourists that typically flock to destinations like Lake George during the holidays. The roadways are less congested, the restaurants less busy, and the lines formed to avail ourselves of such services altogether less long and more civil. Even the continental breakfast at the hotel this morning was less than bountiful as I remember it in prior years so I ate alone as Nancy and Evan slept fitfully back in our room. It's possible that they step up their game as the morning gets on but not likely given the absence of cars, kids, and ski equipment across the board. The lake too has probably not even begin to freeze and they may have to give some thought as to what they want to do if the Winter Ice Festival scheduled for February has to be postponed or altogether cancelled due to a lack of cold weather. But my coffee is sufficiently hot and expectantly stimulating so none of these issues concern me one way or another for the time being.
I do wish these chairs were more comfortable here at Starbucks. I'm guessing that is by design. They want you to be comfortable but not too comfortable. Not so comfortable that you will camp out, use their internet, and leave no places for other customers searching for a seat while they stand idly by sipping their beverages and contemplating their mostly miserable and predictable lives. I try to get here early before the crowds arrive and the noise of the morning becomes annoyingly intrusive. I am all at once bothered by people sitting too close, the din an ever increasing drone of chatter and equipment, and the pre dawn light giving way to what appears to be a dim but hopefully promising day. Promising in the sense that seeing family will be a delight and we will enjoy each other's company as we do each year at this time if only for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon. One would think that with gas prices under $2.00 that we might see more discretionary spending hereabouts but the roads and ever present malls are quiet, online sales have reportedly been only modest, and many of the financial markets around the world are in or going into recession. Perhaps the writing is on the wall and elsewhere. No crystal balls are necessary.
We have a few little things to exchange at the party today and we're happy with the grab gifts we bought. They are sufficiently sassy such that they will likely be traded or otherwise sought after by folks who chose less desirable gifts. There is a serious temptation when giving grab gifts to give away those things you received but didn't need or want. I wish Nancy had been more vocal about a gift she received before we arrived here in New York. I told her it would have made a nice gift not as a grab but as a gift for one of the attendees in todays gathering. She didn't bring it up so it didn't come with us and that is that. We bought a bottle of alcohol for a grab gift for a change this year. I've seen bottles of wine in the past but nothing like a nice bottle of scotch, whiskey, etc. We'll see how that goes. As I sit here thinking about it there has been very little drinking at parties in years past although that has changed a bit more recently.
Well, okay. I'm sitting here the day after the party trying to collect my thoughts. I decided to sleep in to get a bit more rest. None of this bullshit about running off the the coffee shop before the crack of dawn. You try sleeping on a mattress that sags in the middle and then tell me that you got a good nights sleep. I also don't have a lot of time this morning since we have to check out of the hotel in an hours time. Nancy is out for a walk back at the hotel and Evan is sleeping in. His corn starch stores are in short supply so I may need to make an emergency run to one of the local markets before we get on the road. God this coffee tastes good. I've got my ear plugs in listening to one of Steely Dan's earlier albums so that's sweet. What about that last minute run last night to find something to eat. I just did not have enough to eat at the party so should have paid more attention to that when we were there. It was not for a shortage of food that's for sure. Denise brought her lasagna; Lise made deviled eggs; Terry put together a terrific mac and cheese dish; and I think Terry made a lovely ham for the occasion. Terry made a nice fruit salad as well and I complimented her on her efforts and outcome. Where does one find blueberries so juicy, plump, and sweet in the dead of winter I wondered aloud. She took no personal credit for the sweetness of the fruits but did want us to know that she was totally responsible for the resulting collage of colors and textures. An interesting approach to food preparation for sure. It was first rate so I was happy to join the chorus of those singing her praises for putting it all together.
Everybody who was anybody was there. Is that a good way to sum up the extended family? Everyone was in good spirits and were it not for an extended sidebar about dental issues and deductibles one might have inferred that everyone was in the best of health. Oh, and there was another sidebar about tests for alzheimers and how the test night have been more difficult than the disease and how the lot of us in attendance might have fallen short had we too taken the test. Thank God you passed, we all proclaimed with unanimous glee. Like making the grade somehow ensures that you won't wake up some day not knowing the names of your spouse or significant other. I was reminded this morning that there was at least one participant who had nothing to eat at the party. Yes, I did notice that, I said. What was that all about? I've known people who would no sooner partake of party favors or other culinary delights than slit their wrists into an open sewer. But this was different. Were I to guess, I would say that it had everything to do with the rigors of discipline imposed by her coaches and others overseeing this individuals routines related to gymnastics than anything else but that is pure speculation. The child seemed no worse off so no one probably noticed one way or another. Surely, someone in authority who was familiar with her requirements might have made the appropriate accommodations but such was not the case.
We took a drive though Lake George Village just to touch base and it was very very quiet. If there were two cars on either side of Canada street that sat bumper to bumper I didn't see them. Most shops have been closed for months and the town was in serious hibernation mode. We drove through town in a matter of seconds with unobstructed views of the lake which appeared for some reason to be riddled with white caps despite a seemingly benign breeze blowing in from the north. It was colder than it has been so we didn't get out of the car for the time we spent in the village but enjoyed what little time we spent there. Getting reacquainted with an old haunt if nothing else is a nuanced experience and worth taking in if you have the time and inclination. We did and we did. I meant to ask Krissy where she thought one might find investment opportunities in 2016 but never got the chance. I think her area of expertise is taxes and estate management so not sure she would have an opinion one way or another but of all the folks at the party I think I might have been curious as to what she had to say. Perhaps next time. We'll have another opportunity to see them come Fall of 2016 so I will look forward to seeing them then.
We're back in New Hampshire now and I'm waking up to several inches of predicted snow with additional accumulation expected throughout the day. I think I was really on a roll with my writing when I was in NY but feel that tide ebbing ever so slightly now that I am back at home. I think there is something to getting out of your element from time to time if for no other reason than to spur your creativity what ever that means. For me anyway, it represents an opportunity to freshen the view and I welcome it in no uncertain terms. Nancy will not go in to work today given the weather and I heartily endorse that decision. No sense in taking any unnecessary chances and storms of any kind are just not worth venturing out in if you can get away with it. There is enough snow so that shoveling will be required and we will have to go clear the paths around Nancy's mom house before the day is out. I can hear the ice pellets blowing against the bay windows here in the back room so there may be an icy component to deal with before this storm blows off the coast and out to sea. We missed spending time with Nancy's family at Christmas given our trip to Lake George so that was too bad and we'll want to try to schedule better next year whatever that means.
We'll spend most of the day indoors today maybe cleaning up here and there and getting ready for the New Year whatever that means. We'll roast a chicken and some vegetables later on today and I have an apple pie to make which I have the ingredients for but just have not had the chance to throw it together. Evan has been looking forward to the pie so we'll try not to keep him waiting. It's probably a good day to get the wood stove going too and I moved some wood into the garage last night in anticipation of doing just that. I'll see if I can't get over to my elderly neighbors driveway since she has a rather large snowblower which may be overkill given the relatively small amount of snow were expecting to get in total throughout the day. It will take more effort to drag that machine out of her basement than is worth so I'll try to beat her to it. It's a good solid sleet now and I'm not sure if this is supposed to turn to snow or not. It's 32 degrees damn near on the nose so I guess we'll see. I could look at the forecast but I think I won't bother.
Did I mention that I'm here in Queensbury, New York with Nancy and Evan for a Christmas celebration? Who knew I would wake up before daybreak to find that rain had fallen overnight and the temperatures outside were well above freezing. At this time of year? The hotel is largely unoccupied due to the absence of snow and tourists that typically flock to destinations like Lake George during the holidays. The roadways are less congested, the restaurants less busy, and the lines formed to avail ourselves of such services altogether less long and more civil. Even the continental breakfast at the hotel this morning was less than bountiful as I remember it in prior years so I ate alone as Nancy and Evan slept fitfully back in our room. It's possible that they step up their game as the morning gets on but not likely given the absence of cars, kids, and ski equipment across the board. The lake too has probably not even begin to freeze and they may have to give some thought as to what they want to do if the Winter Ice Festival scheduled for February has to be postponed or altogether cancelled due to a lack of cold weather. But my coffee is sufficiently hot and expectantly stimulating so none of these issues concern me one way or another for the time being.
I do wish these chairs were more comfortable here at Starbucks. I'm guessing that is by design. They want you to be comfortable but not too comfortable. Not so comfortable that you will camp out, use their internet, and leave no places for other customers searching for a seat while they stand idly by sipping their beverages and contemplating their mostly miserable and predictable lives. I try to get here early before the crowds arrive and the noise of the morning becomes annoyingly intrusive. I am all at once bothered by people sitting too close, the din an ever increasing drone of chatter and equipment, and the pre dawn light giving way to what appears to be a dim but hopefully promising day. Promising in the sense that seeing family will be a delight and we will enjoy each other's company as we do each year at this time if only for a few hours on a Sunday afternoon. One would think that with gas prices under $2.00 that we might see more discretionary spending hereabouts but the roads and ever present malls are quiet, online sales have reportedly been only modest, and many of the financial markets around the world are in or going into recession. Perhaps the writing is on the wall and elsewhere. No crystal balls are necessary.
We have a few little things to exchange at the party today and we're happy with the grab gifts we bought. They are sufficiently sassy such that they will likely be traded or otherwise sought after by folks who chose less desirable gifts. There is a serious temptation when giving grab gifts to give away those things you received but didn't need or want. I wish Nancy had been more vocal about a gift she received before we arrived here in New York. I told her it would have made a nice gift not as a grab but as a gift for one of the attendees in todays gathering. She didn't bring it up so it didn't come with us and that is that. We bought a bottle of alcohol for a grab gift for a change this year. I've seen bottles of wine in the past but nothing like a nice bottle of scotch, whiskey, etc. We'll see how that goes. As I sit here thinking about it there has been very little drinking at parties in years past although that has changed a bit more recently.
Well, okay. I'm sitting here the day after the party trying to collect my thoughts. I decided to sleep in to get a bit more rest. None of this bullshit about running off the the coffee shop before the crack of dawn. You try sleeping on a mattress that sags in the middle and then tell me that you got a good nights sleep. I also don't have a lot of time this morning since we have to check out of the hotel in an hours time. Nancy is out for a walk back at the hotel and Evan is sleeping in. His corn starch stores are in short supply so I may need to make an emergency run to one of the local markets before we get on the road. God this coffee tastes good. I've got my ear plugs in listening to one of Steely Dan's earlier albums so that's sweet. What about that last minute run last night to find something to eat. I just did not have enough to eat at the party so should have paid more attention to that when we were there. It was not for a shortage of food that's for sure. Denise brought her lasagna; Lise made deviled eggs; Terry put together a terrific mac and cheese dish; and I think Terry made a lovely ham for the occasion. Terry made a nice fruit salad as well and I complimented her on her efforts and outcome. Where does one find blueberries so juicy, plump, and sweet in the dead of winter I wondered aloud. She took no personal credit for the sweetness of the fruits but did want us to know that she was totally responsible for the resulting collage of colors and textures. An interesting approach to food preparation for sure. It was first rate so I was happy to join the chorus of those singing her praises for putting it all together.
Everybody who was anybody was there. Is that a good way to sum up the extended family? Everyone was in good spirits and were it not for an extended sidebar about dental issues and deductibles one might have inferred that everyone was in the best of health. Oh, and there was another sidebar about tests for alzheimers and how the test night have been more difficult than the disease and how the lot of us in attendance might have fallen short had we too taken the test. Thank God you passed, we all proclaimed with unanimous glee. Like making the grade somehow ensures that you won't wake up some day not knowing the names of your spouse or significant other. I was reminded this morning that there was at least one participant who had nothing to eat at the party. Yes, I did notice that, I said. What was that all about? I've known people who would no sooner partake of party favors or other culinary delights than slit their wrists into an open sewer. But this was different. Were I to guess, I would say that it had everything to do with the rigors of discipline imposed by her coaches and others overseeing this individuals routines related to gymnastics than anything else but that is pure speculation. The child seemed no worse off so no one probably noticed one way or another. Surely, someone in authority who was familiar with her requirements might have made the appropriate accommodations but such was not the case.
We took a drive though Lake George Village just to touch base and it was very very quiet. If there were two cars on either side of Canada street that sat bumper to bumper I didn't see them. Most shops have been closed for months and the town was in serious hibernation mode. We drove through town in a matter of seconds with unobstructed views of the lake which appeared for some reason to be riddled with white caps despite a seemingly benign breeze blowing in from the north. It was colder than it has been so we didn't get out of the car for the time we spent in the village but enjoyed what little time we spent there. Getting reacquainted with an old haunt if nothing else is a nuanced experience and worth taking in if you have the time and inclination. We did and we did. I meant to ask Krissy where she thought one might find investment opportunities in 2016 but never got the chance. I think her area of expertise is taxes and estate management so not sure she would have an opinion one way or another but of all the folks at the party I think I might have been curious as to what she had to say. Perhaps next time. We'll have another opportunity to see them come Fall of 2016 so I will look forward to seeing them then.
We're back in New Hampshire now and I'm waking up to several inches of predicted snow with additional accumulation expected throughout the day. I think I was really on a roll with my writing when I was in NY but feel that tide ebbing ever so slightly now that I am back at home. I think there is something to getting out of your element from time to time if for no other reason than to spur your creativity what ever that means. For me anyway, it represents an opportunity to freshen the view and I welcome it in no uncertain terms. Nancy will not go in to work today given the weather and I heartily endorse that decision. No sense in taking any unnecessary chances and storms of any kind are just not worth venturing out in if you can get away with it. There is enough snow so that shoveling will be required and we will have to go clear the paths around Nancy's mom house before the day is out. I can hear the ice pellets blowing against the bay windows here in the back room so there may be an icy component to deal with before this storm blows off the coast and out to sea. We missed spending time with Nancy's family at Christmas given our trip to Lake George so that was too bad and we'll want to try to schedule better next year whatever that means.
We'll spend most of the day indoors today maybe cleaning up here and there and getting ready for the New Year whatever that means. We'll roast a chicken and some vegetables later on today and I have an apple pie to make which I have the ingredients for but just have not had the chance to throw it together. Evan has been looking forward to the pie so we'll try not to keep him waiting. It's probably a good day to get the wood stove going too and I moved some wood into the garage last night in anticipation of doing just that. I'll see if I can't get over to my elderly neighbors driveway since she has a rather large snowblower which may be overkill given the relatively small amount of snow were expecting to get in total throughout the day. It will take more effort to drag that machine out of her basement than is worth so I'll try to beat her to it. It's a good solid sleet now and I'm not sure if this is supposed to turn to snow or not. It's 32 degrees damn near on the nose so I guess we'll see. I could look at the forecast but I think I won't bother.
Little Things Matter
20/12/15 07:13
If I don't get my writing started by 7am then it probably isn't going to happen. It's that window of opportunity where I haven't quite gotten started on the things I have planned for the day and my head is not quite on right given the combination of caffeine and coming off of what can only be described as a good night's sleep (or not.) And then, like a film that captures every waking moment that starts to play in reverse the moment I get out of bed, recent activities come into view and truth be told some are notable but most are not. Focusing on those that are not, because if gems are to be found you have to mine in unsuspecting places, I do my best to put them down on paper where they can be exploited, expressed, cajoled, finessed, and perhaps finally, put into perspective. These things are otherwise forgotten over time so they are best documented by those who experience them first hand. That would be me.
You would think we would have this down by now. And perhaps we do but it just feels like we don't. We know Christmas is on the calendar and we know that once we see christmas trees on sale here and there that we're better off buying one before they are nearly sold off and hard to find. And then the ones you do find are seemingly not suitable for one reason or other but the price is the same. Fact of the matter is, and I think Nancy is right about this, they are all cut around the same time so it makes doesn't sense to wait until you get closer to Christmas to buy the darn thing. Might as well just make the purchase and be done with it. But, we are creatures of habit if nothing else so here we are a week before Christmas and our tree just went up last night. She's a beauty, she is. It was the first tree we looked at oddly enough. We usually like to look at a few before settling on one that seems just right but this one did seem right so that was that. We paid $45 for the 6 foot balsam fir and my only disappointment is that it seems less fragrant than I thought it would be. Otherwise, she's shedding precious few needles which is good and we had to make zero alterations once she was in the stand and placed upright in our living room. My biggest challenge at times like this is to get the tree to stand upright without leaning too far in one direction or the other (the tree, not me.) This baby damn near saluted me once I had her in the stand she was so erect. As a household, we are unanimous in our admiration for the tree and everything she represents so we are happy to have her on board. Next time we'll try not too wait so long. I promise.
I don't know what the problem is. Now that I have all the time in the world it seems like there is never enough time in the day to get to the things I want to do. That is especially true when it comes to cooking. I like to cook and there are few dishes that I can't make if and when I decide it's something that I want to do. Why is it that I can never find the time? Why is it that I never make the time? I have a few things that I make regularly and that certainly needs to change if for no other reason than it becomes something of a chore like anything else that you do all the time. There is that creature of habit thing again. And I have a thousand cook books so I have no excuse for not getting the job done. It is true that I would probably do well to make Evan a square meal now and then since he shows little or no inclination to prepare food for himself one way or another. I think his attention span is somewhat suspect when it comes to learning his way around the kitchen and all things culinary so I won't go any further than to ask from time to time that he look over my shoulder when I'm doing what I'm doing. Part of me wants to say to him, we're not here to cook your every meal. You need to figure this stuff out for yourself. Left to his own devices, I'm not sure he would fare well. When I find leftover bagels in my glove compartment in the car I'm reminded that he just doesn't get it. When I see him skipping meals when he shouldn't be, I think that's a problem. I'm thinking I should lead by example now. I'll start with dinners and work my way backwards. Just because he isn't willing to do the right thing doesn't mean I can't or shouldn't. Maybe there is something to that phrase, "you never stop being a parent." It's supposed to get easier. Right?
I have to say I think I've never been more prepared for the winter months and all that entails here in the Northeast. My little obsessions began with the leaves that piled up on our front lawn in late fall. I moved many a metric ton of leaves off our lawn and hauled them across the street and into the woods over the course of a few weeks in late Fall. That was a bit of a job to be sure. I could have just as easily hired someone to come and clear away the leaves but I've never believed in having someone do something for me that I can just as easily do for myself. Why I get the kind of satisfaction that I do from doing the work is another question but let's just say it gives me something to do that requires planning, muscle, and direction. I squared away a section of our yard that had fallen into disrepair over time and that area is now pristine, orderly, and a reminder to all who care to look at it that all things are possible when you put your mind to it. I replaced sections of wood on our bay windows that had rotted for whatever reason and surprised myself that the planning and execution for such a project was not beyond me in the least. I even took before and after pictures to show the family.
One thing led to another and the next thing you know I was painting and staining with abandon. Who knew? The decks are cleared of the summer furniture, the gutters tidied of leaves and stains have been cleared away with a strong solvent intended for such tasks, and the bird feeders are all in place and stocked with the best seed in the universe in order to keep our featured friends in good stead for what may turn out to be a hard winter. That remains to be seen since we've not seen a lick of snow and I think the temperatures have been uber mild if not historically mild. So mild, in fact, that I have been getting a bike ride in every day now since early March. Hard to believe I know. I just keep on keeping on. Putting one foot in front of the other until I can't anymore. Isn't that how it works?
You would think we would have this down by now. And perhaps we do but it just feels like we don't. We know Christmas is on the calendar and we know that once we see christmas trees on sale here and there that we're better off buying one before they are nearly sold off and hard to find. And then the ones you do find are seemingly not suitable for one reason or other but the price is the same. Fact of the matter is, and I think Nancy is right about this, they are all cut around the same time so it makes doesn't sense to wait until you get closer to Christmas to buy the darn thing. Might as well just make the purchase and be done with it. But, we are creatures of habit if nothing else so here we are a week before Christmas and our tree just went up last night. She's a beauty, she is. It was the first tree we looked at oddly enough. We usually like to look at a few before settling on one that seems just right but this one did seem right so that was that. We paid $45 for the 6 foot balsam fir and my only disappointment is that it seems less fragrant than I thought it would be. Otherwise, she's shedding precious few needles which is good and we had to make zero alterations once she was in the stand and placed upright in our living room. My biggest challenge at times like this is to get the tree to stand upright without leaning too far in one direction or the other (the tree, not me.) This baby damn near saluted me once I had her in the stand she was so erect. As a household, we are unanimous in our admiration for the tree and everything she represents so we are happy to have her on board. Next time we'll try not too wait so long. I promise.
I don't know what the problem is. Now that I have all the time in the world it seems like there is never enough time in the day to get to the things I want to do. That is especially true when it comes to cooking. I like to cook and there are few dishes that I can't make if and when I decide it's something that I want to do. Why is it that I can never find the time? Why is it that I never make the time? I have a few things that I make regularly and that certainly needs to change if for no other reason than it becomes something of a chore like anything else that you do all the time. There is that creature of habit thing again. And I have a thousand cook books so I have no excuse for not getting the job done. It is true that I would probably do well to make Evan a square meal now and then since he shows little or no inclination to prepare food for himself one way or another. I think his attention span is somewhat suspect when it comes to learning his way around the kitchen and all things culinary so I won't go any further than to ask from time to time that he look over my shoulder when I'm doing what I'm doing. Part of me wants to say to him, we're not here to cook your every meal. You need to figure this stuff out for yourself. Left to his own devices, I'm not sure he would fare well. When I find leftover bagels in my glove compartment in the car I'm reminded that he just doesn't get it. When I see him skipping meals when he shouldn't be, I think that's a problem. I'm thinking I should lead by example now. I'll start with dinners and work my way backwards. Just because he isn't willing to do the right thing doesn't mean I can't or shouldn't. Maybe there is something to that phrase, "you never stop being a parent." It's supposed to get easier. Right?
I have to say I think I've never been more prepared for the winter months and all that entails here in the Northeast. My little obsessions began with the leaves that piled up on our front lawn in late fall. I moved many a metric ton of leaves off our lawn and hauled them across the street and into the woods over the course of a few weeks in late Fall. That was a bit of a job to be sure. I could have just as easily hired someone to come and clear away the leaves but I've never believed in having someone do something for me that I can just as easily do for myself. Why I get the kind of satisfaction that I do from doing the work is another question but let's just say it gives me something to do that requires planning, muscle, and direction. I squared away a section of our yard that had fallen into disrepair over time and that area is now pristine, orderly, and a reminder to all who care to look at it that all things are possible when you put your mind to it. I replaced sections of wood on our bay windows that had rotted for whatever reason and surprised myself that the planning and execution for such a project was not beyond me in the least. I even took before and after pictures to show the family.
One thing led to another and the next thing you know I was painting and staining with abandon. Who knew? The decks are cleared of the summer furniture, the gutters tidied of leaves and stains have been cleared away with a strong solvent intended for such tasks, and the bird feeders are all in place and stocked with the best seed in the universe in order to keep our featured friends in good stead for what may turn out to be a hard winter. That remains to be seen since we've not seen a lick of snow and I think the temperatures have been uber mild if not historically mild. So mild, in fact, that I have been getting a bike ride in every day now since early March. Hard to believe I know. I just keep on keeping on. Putting one foot in front of the other until I can't anymore. Isn't that how it works?
Glocks and Schlocks
05/12/15 08:58
Another mass shooting and another call for gun control. Before these dirty jihadist bastards behind the shootings in San Bernadino were even identified our feckless commander in chief was on the television calling for more gun control. It's no secret that Obama can't utter the very words "radical Islamist." His sympathies for the Muslim Brotherhood run deep so it came as a surprise to no one when he suggested the usual "workplace violence" narrative to explain the slaughter of 14 people by a couple of radicalized Jihadists. Even after the FBI had declared it to be an act of terrorism the president chose not to speak to the American people about our collective goals to defeat this global movement but rather he chose to meet with Gabby Giffords in the west wing of the White House that very evening on the topic of gun control. Obama and his closest confidant, Valerie Jarret, were so concerned about the tone of the message about to be delivered to the American People by the head of the FBI when they had determined that is was in fact terrorism that he had his Attorney General Loretta Lynch join the press conference. His praetorian guard, the media, went so far as to suggest that the killings were due to postpartum depression given that one of the two killers was a woman who left behind a child six months of age. While no one's interests are served by jumping to conclusions, the very weight of the evidence once determined should have clarified for all that this had nothing to do with workplace violence and everything to do with radicalized jihadists and their pursuit of a global caliphate. The implementation of sharia law in the United States is going to have to wait. And wait we will until we elect a new president a year from now. One who will call this cancer what it is and one who will rid our government and every nation around the world of this madness once and for all.
Obama's ongoing threats to use executive action to impose new guns laws and regulations has been a boon to the purveyors of handguns and other weapons. Nancy and I have talked about getting a gun for our own protection. A nice little Glock might do the trick. We'll have to sign up with one of the local gun clubs so we can learn how to use the damn thing but that should be fun. I read the story of the Glock handgun a couple of years back and how it was introduced into the United States and how it has become the handgun of choice in Police stations across the country. It is light, easy to aim and shoot, and the preferred weapon of choice by sports enthusiasts and professionals alike. I'd go so far as to say it is a sexy weapon but that is not a description that I would expect to see on their website. And then there is the question of where to keep the gun so it stays out of harms way and out of the hands of anyone who would use it in the commission of a crime, etc. It would have to be handy in the event of an intruder or someone wishing to do us harm and we would have to have the collective chutzpah or testosterone to pull the trigger if and when that became necessary. Do you shoot to kill or just to maim? A knee shot in the dark would be difficult. What if I missed? A shoulder shot might be easier and a head shot would not be out of the question depending on the situation. Do we shoot first and ask questions later? Hello, who's there???? Is that just my honey roaming around in the dark at 3 in the morning? Neither of us has a hair trigger temper and we are faithful followers of the constitution so might do well to avail ourselves of all of our liberties under the second amendment. God help us if we actually have to use the gun (fingers don't fail me now.) Maybe it would just be easier to get a dog. A dog with a big bark. Grrrr.
I'm running late this morning. It's close to 10 and I'm never writing in my journal this late. I'm hungry and I want to eat. It's a beautiful day outside and I feel the need to get my body moving. Stay engaged, Johnny boy. We were on our way down to Penzy's Spice store in Arlington Massachusetts yesterday and I was telling Nancy that I'm a little concerned that I'm falling behind in doing those things around the house that need to be done before the snow starts to fall. The garage is a horror show and I need to tend to the wood pile and get the bird feeders cleaned, filled, and positioned around the house. We've seen no snow thus far this year and I'm still riding my bike daily even now a handful of days into December. I would not have guessed that I would be riding in temperatures in the thirties but if you are dressed well the cold is not an issue. I'm somewhat bothered by the multitude of layers of clothing that I have to wear now and then and it all feels very bulky and less fluid but getting the ride in on any given day is the goal so I do what it takes to get the job done.
The spice store is always fun to visit. I picked up some Turkish oregano and some really good looking chili powder which I hope to use soon when I make another batch of chili. I bought a few other spices that I want to use with salads and in sauces but nothing too extravagant (like tumeric?.) We spent the better part of an hour or two in Cambridge after going to Penzy's where I hunkered down with my iPad at Peet's Coffee while Nancy browsed in the local stores. We stopped by Ricci's in Hampton on the way home to pick up an eggplant parmesan for Evan and got home a little after 8. We got a late start when going to Penzey's but it all worked out. I suppose we can take Mrs G up to Kittery tonight. She might like to walk around Crate and Barrel for a change. If it works out, we'll have dinner in Kittery at Robert's. Even if it doesn't, we'll still have dinner at Robert's.
Obama's ongoing threats to use executive action to impose new guns laws and regulations has been a boon to the purveyors of handguns and other weapons. Nancy and I have talked about getting a gun for our own protection. A nice little Glock might do the trick. We'll have to sign up with one of the local gun clubs so we can learn how to use the damn thing but that should be fun. I read the story of the Glock handgun a couple of years back and how it was introduced into the United States and how it has become the handgun of choice in Police stations across the country. It is light, easy to aim and shoot, and the preferred weapon of choice by sports enthusiasts and professionals alike. I'd go so far as to say it is a sexy weapon but that is not a description that I would expect to see on their website. And then there is the question of where to keep the gun so it stays out of harms way and out of the hands of anyone who would use it in the commission of a crime, etc. It would have to be handy in the event of an intruder or someone wishing to do us harm and we would have to have the collective chutzpah or testosterone to pull the trigger if and when that became necessary. Do you shoot to kill or just to maim? A knee shot in the dark would be difficult. What if I missed? A shoulder shot might be easier and a head shot would not be out of the question depending on the situation. Do we shoot first and ask questions later? Hello, who's there???? Is that just my honey roaming around in the dark at 3 in the morning? Neither of us has a hair trigger temper and we are faithful followers of the constitution so might do well to avail ourselves of all of our liberties under the second amendment. God help us if we actually have to use the gun (fingers don't fail me now.) Maybe it would just be easier to get a dog. A dog with a big bark. Grrrr.
I'm running late this morning. It's close to 10 and I'm never writing in my journal this late. I'm hungry and I want to eat. It's a beautiful day outside and I feel the need to get my body moving. Stay engaged, Johnny boy. We were on our way down to Penzy's Spice store in Arlington Massachusetts yesterday and I was telling Nancy that I'm a little concerned that I'm falling behind in doing those things around the house that need to be done before the snow starts to fall. The garage is a horror show and I need to tend to the wood pile and get the bird feeders cleaned, filled, and positioned around the house. We've seen no snow thus far this year and I'm still riding my bike daily even now a handful of days into December. I would not have guessed that I would be riding in temperatures in the thirties but if you are dressed well the cold is not an issue. I'm somewhat bothered by the multitude of layers of clothing that I have to wear now and then and it all feels very bulky and less fluid but getting the ride in on any given day is the goal so I do what it takes to get the job done.
The spice store is always fun to visit. I picked up some Turkish oregano and some really good looking chili powder which I hope to use soon when I make another batch of chili. I bought a few other spices that I want to use with salads and in sauces but nothing too extravagant (like tumeric?.) We spent the better part of an hour or two in Cambridge after going to Penzy's where I hunkered down with my iPad at Peet's Coffee while Nancy browsed in the local stores. We stopped by Ricci's in Hampton on the way home to pick up an eggplant parmesan for Evan and got home a little after 8. We got a late start when going to Penzey's but it all worked out. I suppose we can take Mrs G up to Kittery tonight. She might like to walk around Crate and Barrel for a change. If it works out, we'll have dinner in Kittery at Robert's. Even if it doesn't, we'll still have dinner at Robert's.
Thanksgiving 2015
26/11/15 07:46
Why do I get the feeling that everything I have planned to do today when and where Thanksgiving is concerned is just a rehash of prior holidays. And It's not just me. Nancy is making the same old pumpkin pie recipe that is allegedly from her grandmother but probably came off the back of a Readers Digest rag decades ago and continues to find a place at our dinner table despite the many protestations about the absence of alternatives. How about a nice fucking apple pie for a change? Or maybe a bloody blueberry pie. It's just getting very tired and I say to hell with tradition. I don't think anyone really wants to do this and it's more of a chore than it's worth. I'm not even sure we have anything to be thankful for as I sit here thinking about it. Everybody is sick, nobody is happy, we're all beside ourselves with boredom, and I thank the baby Jesus for the misery in our culture and across the world that provides a suitable distraction for those of us not otherwise lulled by the inaneness offered up by Hollywood and the NFL. I'm not quite to the point where I'm considering joining the forces of ISIS since I still think there is a point to having our traditions but would appreciate mixing it up just a bit from time to time whatever that looks like. God only knows I've been trying and last year I tried to source all of our delectables from Trader Joe's and I think it went largely unnoticed. I don't think anybody even cared so long as the usual array of sauces, gravies, starches, and beverages were available. So there you have it.
I'm surprised that these anarchists who march in the streets of our cities complaining about the heavy handedness of law enforcement don't take exception to the phrase "Black Friday." The hounds of political correctness bay incessantly when it comes to the naming of football teams and the displaying of confederate flags and seek safe zones from whites and others of European persuasion who would seek to oppress them but when its comes to a free-for-all occasions like Black Friday they are color blind and wanting to partake like everyone else. Funny how that works. This war they seek is economic if not political and with unemployment in the black community at a raging 18-20% it would behoove them not to take advantage of the Black Friday holiday to bring the national and community retailers to their knees by staging rallies and boycotts until their collective demands are met. Maybe a "minorities only" sale would suit them. Stores like Macy's might be amenable to changing the moniker of their annual "Black Tie" event to something more politically correct.
But the real goal of any self respecting anarchist is to overturn the establishment of rule in our society and that cannot be tolerated. March as you will in the streets as your voices are protected by the first amendment but incite violence and your actions will be ejudicated by a jury of your peers. Call me racist if you wish but the law is the law and if you insist on mob rule then you'll pay the piper if and when the time comes. Maybe the real goal is to keep the low information voters sufficiently riled until the presidential elections come along next November. There is nothing like stoked hatred for the white man and his oppressive establishment to get black folks and their ilk to the voting booth. These are the same criminals that march the streets of every major city night after night in our country burning down stores, threatening the local populations, looting the businesses, and all in the name of justice. Without their support, Hillary Clinton doesn't stand a chance. I'm thinking things are only to going to get worse between now and then.
Thanksgiving dinner has come and gone. It wasn't so bad. We didn't get over to Mrs G's until 5 or so because the turkey was a little slow in coming along. That gave us the time we needed during the day to put together all the other things and Nancy deserves a lot of credit for coordinating all of it. We usually forget one or two things and only realize it after we've sat down to enjoy the fruits of our efforts. Not so last night. Mr G called after we had arrived back home after having dinner that she had forgotten to put out the jello mold, the olives, and one other thing I can't recall at the moment. There was plenty of food to eat and more than enough to leave Mrs G with a plate to consume at her leisure. We lamented as a group, not including Nancy, that having pumpkin pie had perhaps run its course and we offered up other suggestions such as apple pie and the like. That didn't stop us from enjoying the pie that Nancy had prepared and once lathered up with whipped cream and a scoop or two of ice cream all was forgiven.
We never got around to talking about the things we were thankful for so that was a missed opportunity. There was nary a mention of Da and that too was a missed opportunity. We usually ask about Willie and ask Debbie to give him our regards but seemed to have forgotten to do that this time around. I drank water instead of orange juice, no alcohol was served but a little wine might have been nice. The rolls were warm and right out of the oven and the gravy from Trader Joes came out of the microwave just fine. We encouraged Mrs G to stay on schedule with her time in the pool at the YMCA the day after Thanksgiving; we discussed the goings on with the presidential race and the seemingly likely nomination of the long time front runner Donald Trump; and had some fun at the expense of certain Cape Verbenas who were not in attendance; and probably spent more time talking about the scourge of ISIS and multiculturalism than was otherwise warranted. It was delightful to have Debbie join us and it was good to have Evan at the table as well. The more the merrier as the saying goes. Evan decided that he would not be doing any Black Friday shopping so stayed close to home for the evening. Nancy and I were in bed and asleep by 8. I was up and lying awake in bed at 2am reading the final chapter on my iPad about Alan Shepard entitled "Into the Light - The story about America's first spaceman." It was a fabulous read.
I'm surprised that these anarchists who march in the streets of our cities complaining about the heavy handedness of law enforcement don't take exception to the phrase "Black Friday." The hounds of political correctness bay incessantly when it comes to the naming of football teams and the displaying of confederate flags and seek safe zones from whites and others of European persuasion who would seek to oppress them but when its comes to a free-for-all occasions like Black Friday they are color blind and wanting to partake like everyone else. Funny how that works. This war they seek is economic if not political and with unemployment in the black community at a raging 18-20% it would behoove them not to take advantage of the Black Friday holiday to bring the national and community retailers to their knees by staging rallies and boycotts until their collective demands are met. Maybe a "minorities only" sale would suit them. Stores like Macy's might be amenable to changing the moniker of their annual "Black Tie" event to something more politically correct.
But the real goal of any self respecting anarchist is to overturn the establishment of rule in our society and that cannot be tolerated. March as you will in the streets as your voices are protected by the first amendment but incite violence and your actions will be ejudicated by a jury of your peers. Call me racist if you wish but the law is the law and if you insist on mob rule then you'll pay the piper if and when the time comes. Maybe the real goal is to keep the low information voters sufficiently riled until the presidential elections come along next November. There is nothing like stoked hatred for the white man and his oppressive establishment to get black folks and their ilk to the voting booth. These are the same criminals that march the streets of every major city night after night in our country burning down stores, threatening the local populations, looting the businesses, and all in the name of justice. Without their support, Hillary Clinton doesn't stand a chance. I'm thinking things are only to going to get worse between now and then.
Thanksgiving dinner has come and gone. It wasn't so bad. We didn't get over to Mrs G's until 5 or so because the turkey was a little slow in coming along. That gave us the time we needed during the day to put together all the other things and Nancy deserves a lot of credit for coordinating all of it. We usually forget one or two things and only realize it after we've sat down to enjoy the fruits of our efforts. Not so last night. Mr G called after we had arrived back home after having dinner that she had forgotten to put out the jello mold, the olives, and one other thing I can't recall at the moment. There was plenty of food to eat and more than enough to leave Mrs G with a plate to consume at her leisure. We lamented as a group, not including Nancy, that having pumpkin pie had perhaps run its course and we offered up other suggestions such as apple pie and the like. That didn't stop us from enjoying the pie that Nancy had prepared and once lathered up with whipped cream and a scoop or two of ice cream all was forgiven.
We never got around to talking about the things we were thankful for so that was a missed opportunity. There was nary a mention of Da and that too was a missed opportunity. We usually ask about Willie and ask Debbie to give him our regards but seemed to have forgotten to do that this time around. I drank water instead of orange juice, no alcohol was served but a little wine might have been nice. The rolls were warm and right out of the oven and the gravy from Trader Joes came out of the microwave just fine. We encouraged Mrs G to stay on schedule with her time in the pool at the YMCA the day after Thanksgiving; we discussed the goings on with the presidential race and the seemingly likely nomination of the long time front runner Donald Trump; and had some fun at the expense of certain Cape Verbenas who were not in attendance; and probably spent more time talking about the scourge of ISIS and multiculturalism than was otherwise warranted. It was delightful to have Debbie join us and it was good to have Evan at the table as well. The more the merrier as the saying goes. Evan decided that he would not be doing any Black Friday shopping so stayed close to home for the evening. Nancy and I were in bed and asleep by 8. I was up and lying awake in bed at 2am reading the final chapter on my iPad about Alan Shepard entitled "Into the Light - The story about America's first spaceman." It was a fabulous read.
Reality Redux
21/11/15 08:36
One thing I'll say about this retirement business is that it doesn't happen overnight. You are at work one day and gone the next. It sounds easy but nothing could be further from the truth. Your brain has been mapped over the years to accommodate the concept and reality of work not just in terms of where you go day in and day out but how you think and what you see or think you see in the course of your daily routines. Add to that the fact that the lens through which you experience that reality is constructed in such a way as to only let so much light in at one time given your capacity as an individual to cope with that reality and you start to understand how not working after working for decades can be both a mind bending and mind altering experience. It's no wonder some people have an epic fail in their lives once retired given the enormity of that which is hard to predict, hard to understand, and hard to prepare for. The best advice I would give to someone staring down retirement is to not to do anything extraordinary until you've eliminated every last vestige of the work experience roaming around in your head. That may take days, months, or years. Wait until you start to see the world in a different light. When you allow that light to reflect on areas long kept in the dark you realize that there is more to your existence than you thought and the path ahead begins to clear. It doesn't mean you are rid of your ways or those that come closest to defining you but you are essentially ready to take the next step. When you hear the words in your head "come hither" step into the abyss with all the passion and energy you can muster and never look back. Not sure I'm there yet but I think I'm getting close.
Speaking of "seeing" I feel like I've been thrown off the stage and into the proverbial mosh pit where my illusory fans have now caught me and are rocking me from side to side keeping me both elevated and off my feet. I'm looking at the ceiling all of a sudden and I'm starting to see things I've never seen before. Never bothered to look at the "ceiling" before truth be told. Never been swept off my feet either so until someone tells me differently I think it's all good. But I'm staring small. Keeping the focus local and within arms reach. I'm seeing things around the house that I've not seen before. Things that have long been overlooked or perhaps even purposely avoided for one reason or other. How those observations occupy the space in my brain is another question. If they become manic in nature that is not a good thing. If I try to make up for decades of abuse or neglect in one fell swoop that may be a recipe for disaster. If my approach is orderly and methodical then I can understandably revel in the satisfaction one ordinarily gets from checking things off on their to-do list. The plans of mice and men are all well and good and thus far have not gone awry. My lists are intact; My daily goals modest and predictable; My learning curve steep but still in scope; and the results thus far have exceeded expectations. Maybe there is irony in the fact that the combined forces of energy and creativity that made me so successful at work are now in play in this post-work environment. Reminds me a little of the chicken and egg argument. The answer to that notwithstanding, it's full speed ahead here on the home front. Are we having fun yet?
Looks like Thanksgiving is going to be the same ole same ole this year. I wouldn't mind breaking with tradition and doing something a little different but that appears not to be in the cards. I'm listening to Arlo Guthrie's version of Alice's Restaurant on Sirius at the moment so I probably need to get with the program and get my head back in the game. With two elements gone in our stove, we have plans to have a new oven delivered the day before Thanksgiving so I can't use that as an excuse for not participating. I think the only thing we don't have aside from the oven is the turkey and I don't have a good reason for not collecting that sucker given my availability these days. I think it's safe to say my heart isn't in it this year. Have we beat that horse to death yet? Can you blame me for wanting to do something different? It isn't about you, Johnny boy. Never has been if you want to know the truth. Wake up and smell the coffee. Did I tell you that I was thinking about offering to walk our neighbors dog in the event she isn't up to it? I've decided it is probably not a good idea to open that door for a variety of reasons. Improbable as it seems, I don't want to become a default caretaker for the little fella in the event my dear neighbor becomes incapacitated or otherwise unable to care for him. She is in her seventies and the dog is barely two so the math is not on her side. I don't dislike dogs or animals for that matter but have no interest in having an animal in our home one way or another. It will be back to the pound with him should anything happen to her so we'll let nature take its course and not interfere or change that trajectory by doing something neighborly. Just sayin'.
Speaking of "seeing" I feel like I've been thrown off the stage and into the proverbial mosh pit where my illusory fans have now caught me and are rocking me from side to side keeping me both elevated and off my feet. I'm looking at the ceiling all of a sudden and I'm starting to see things I've never seen before. Never bothered to look at the "ceiling" before truth be told. Never been swept off my feet either so until someone tells me differently I think it's all good. But I'm staring small. Keeping the focus local and within arms reach. I'm seeing things around the house that I've not seen before. Things that have long been overlooked or perhaps even purposely avoided for one reason or other. How those observations occupy the space in my brain is another question. If they become manic in nature that is not a good thing. If I try to make up for decades of abuse or neglect in one fell swoop that may be a recipe for disaster. If my approach is orderly and methodical then I can understandably revel in the satisfaction one ordinarily gets from checking things off on their to-do list. The plans of mice and men are all well and good and thus far have not gone awry. My lists are intact; My daily goals modest and predictable; My learning curve steep but still in scope; and the results thus far have exceeded expectations. Maybe there is irony in the fact that the combined forces of energy and creativity that made me so successful at work are now in play in this post-work environment. Reminds me a little of the chicken and egg argument. The answer to that notwithstanding, it's full speed ahead here on the home front. Are we having fun yet?
Looks like Thanksgiving is going to be the same ole same ole this year. I wouldn't mind breaking with tradition and doing something a little different but that appears not to be in the cards. I'm listening to Arlo Guthrie's version of Alice's Restaurant on Sirius at the moment so I probably need to get with the program and get my head back in the game. With two elements gone in our stove, we have plans to have a new oven delivered the day before Thanksgiving so I can't use that as an excuse for not participating. I think the only thing we don't have aside from the oven is the turkey and I don't have a good reason for not collecting that sucker given my availability these days. I think it's safe to say my heart isn't in it this year. Have we beat that horse to death yet? Can you blame me for wanting to do something different? It isn't about you, Johnny boy. Never has been if you want to know the truth. Wake up and smell the coffee. Did I tell you that I was thinking about offering to walk our neighbors dog in the event she isn't up to it? I've decided it is probably not a good idea to open that door for a variety of reasons. Improbable as it seems, I don't want to become a default caretaker for the little fella in the event my dear neighbor becomes incapacitated or otherwise unable to care for him. She is in her seventies and the dog is barely two so the math is not on her side. I don't dislike dogs or animals for that matter but have no interest in having an animal in our home one way or another. It will be back to the pound with him should anything happen to her so we'll let nature take its course and not interfere or change that trajectory by doing something neighborly. Just sayin'.
Just Sayin'
06/11/15 06:07
One week into this craziness they call retirement and I'm here to tell you that I'm doing just fine. No need to worry about me. I'll find things to do. Things to busy myself with so I don't get lost in my thoughts. All those shows I was planning to watch and catch up in retirement? It's not happening. Truth of the matter is I don't much care for watching television one way or the other save for an occasional drama or series that has been thoroughly vetted and approved by the masses. I'm one of those people who DVR everything but watch very little or nothing. Part of me wants, no demands, to stay organized and moving on an even plane from project to project. That has nothing to do with having worked for a lot of years doing just that but rather it is in my DNA. Just yesterday, for example, I decided that it was high time to transform a section of our backyard from the hardscrabble and largely overgrown space it has become over time to something more organized, less cluttered, more structured, and maybe even more appealing to the eye. With that accomplished, I wish that I had taken a before and after picture. There is more to do for sure but the transformation is largely complete. The mere thought of burying that section of yard beneath boatloads of snow for the long winter ahead only to be reminded of duties not yet done come Spring was more than I cared to contemplate. This is just one example of staying organized, putting one foot in front off the other until the job gets done, and engaging with my DNA in a way that satisfies an inner need. Ahhhh.
Welcome to Boston, dudes and dudettes. I'm hunkered down in Peet's coffee shop here across the street from the Prudential center in downtown Boston. I'm reminded in looking at all the new construction going up of the real estate shows I've seen on television where the threat of high rises going up next to existing real estate poses a real problem for folks wanting to maintain the value of their properties/investments. Not a lot to be done would be my guess. You can scream until the cows come home but no one is going to hear you on the 37th floor to nowhere. The world is no longer your oyster. In the words of someone famous whose name escapes me at the moment, "the thrill is gone." And so is your investment. Speaking of investments, I'll want to make sure that I get back to my car before the meter runs out. Don't want to get a ticket. The thrill would definitely be gone were that to happen. Feet's don't fail me now.
Nancy is across town at a seminar on something or other and I am just along for the ride. It is not something I was interested in attended and she didn't insist that I attend so here I am. On my own. Doing a solo. Living the dream. Fact of the matter is I'm not in a particularly good mood today for some reason so I'm wanting to see if I can slay a few dragons for the next few hours before heading back to Government Center to pick her up. I stopped by the Apple store looking to see if they had the new Apple iPad Pro on display and they did not. No word of a lie, I think they had somewhere in the vicinity of a thousand or more ipads, watches, iphones, and other paraphenalia on display but I already have one or more of the aforementioned products so my time in the store was brief. They couldn't even tell me when the new pad was scheduled to arrive. This veil of secrecy bullshit is fast approaching the end of its shelf life with me. It makes me want their products less and not more. If Steve Jobs isn't rolling over in his grave with this nonsense he should be.
I'm having second thoughts about the coffee I ordered here at Peet's. And so close on the heels of the coffee I had when I got out of bed at 6. It's a good way to kill a good buzz and turn a nice high into a frenzied nerve wracking experience which is close to the way I'm feeling at the moment. As much as I like the coffee here at Peet's, I should stop drinking it immediately. Give the caffeine in my system a chance to mellow instead of throwing gasoline on the fire. Can't think straight; can't see straight; can't keep my fingers on the keys long enough to get the words on paper; and the need to go back and correct misspellings is expanding exponentially with every passing second. It's a nice day in town weather wise. Overcast, but cool enough to just go with a shirt and a sweater which is what I'm wearing. No coat. No hat. No gloves. Not yet anyway. There is a small group of folks here in the shop looking at their phones, typing on their laptops, conversing with their friends, etc. The music is generically pop and not too intrusive but just loud enough to pass as white noise and apt at that.
Not sure but I think Boston may be one of many so-called sanctuary cities here in the Northeast. It's a little hard to tell since there is a large foreign student population attending schools here in the city so you don't know for sure who is and who isn't on the right side of the law. I guess if it is a sanctuary city then it really doesn't matter because the local constabulary is not interested in upholding the laws of our nation when and where our immigration laws are concerned. The barrister shouts out from behind the counter, "a small vanilla chai latte!" I suppose I should be thankful that he is speaking English and not trying to be politically correct by repeating the order in the requestors native tongue. We should all be that fucking talented.
But I digress. I scooted over to Cambridge to grab a little lunch at the Border Cafe where I complained about the toughness of the burrito wrap and they took the meal off the tab. I had insisted that they not do that since I enjoyed the chicken and it was not otherwise a problem. I wondered if they thought I might be looking to get a free lunch but I think they thought otherwise after I gave them my credit card with which to pay the tab. They returned my card with a tab that showed a zero amount billed and that was that. Well, almost. I gave the waiter a $5 tip for his trouble and went on my way. That is what you do when customers have a valid complaint. You deal with it head on. You do the right thing and you don't worry about your bottom line. I look forward to giving my good friends at the Border Cafe a second chance. Areeeba!
Welcome to Boston, dudes and dudettes. I'm hunkered down in Peet's coffee shop here across the street from the Prudential center in downtown Boston. I'm reminded in looking at all the new construction going up of the real estate shows I've seen on television where the threat of high rises going up next to existing real estate poses a real problem for folks wanting to maintain the value of their properties/investments. Not a lot to be done would be my guess. You can scream until the cows come home but no one is going to hear you on the 37th floor to nowhere. The world is no longer your oyster. In the words of someone famous whose name escapes me at the moment, "the thrill is gone." And so is your investment. Speaking of investments, I'll want to make sure that I get back to my car before the meter runs out. Don't want to get a ticket. The thrill would definitely be gone were that to happen. Feet's don't fail me now.
Nancy is across town at a seminar on something or other and I am just along for the ride. It is not something I was interested in attended and she didn't insist that I attend so here I am. On my own. Doing a solo. Living the dream. Fact of the matter is I'm not in a particularly good mood today for some reason so I'm wanting to see if I can slay a few dragons for the next few hours before heading back to Government Center to pick her up. I stopped by the Apple store looking to see if they had the new Apple iPad Pro on display and they did not. No word of a lie, I think they had somewhere in the vicinity of a thousand or more ipads, watches, iphones, and other paraphenalia on display but I already have one or more of the aforementioned products so my time in the store was brief. They couldn't even tell me when the new pad was scheduled to arrive. This veil of secrecy bullshit is fast approaching the end of its shelf life with me. It makes me want their products less and not more. If Steve Jobs isn't rolling over in his grave with this nonsense he should be.
I'm having second thoughts about the coffee I ordered here at Peet's. And so close on the heels of the coffee I had when I got out of bed at 6. It's a good way to kill a good buzz and turn a nice high into a frenzied nerve wracking experience which is close to the way I'm feeling at the moment. As much as I like the coffee here at Peet's, I should stop drinking it immediately. Give the caffeine in my system a chance to mellow instead of throwing gasoline on the fire. Can't think straight; can't see straight; can't keep my fingers on the keys long enough to get the words on paper; and the need to go back and correct misspellings is expanding exponentially with every passing second. It's a nice day in town weather wise. Overcast, but cool enough to just go with a shirt and a sweater which is what I'm wearing. No coat. No hat. No gloves. Not yet anyway. There is a small group of folks here in the shop looking at their phones, typing on their laptops, conversing with their friends, etc. The music is generically pop and not too intrusive but just loud enough to pass as white noise and apt at that.
Not sure but I think Boston may be one of many so-called sanctuary cities here in the Northeast. It's a little hard to tell since there is a large foreign student population attending schools here in the city so you don't know for sure who is and who isn't on the right side of the law. I guess if it is a sanctuary city then it really doesn't matter because the local constabulary is not interested in upholding the laws of our nation when and where our immigration laws are concerned. The barrister shouts out from behind the counter, "a small vanilla chai latte!" I suppose I should be thankful that he is speaking English and not trying to be politically correct by repeating the order in the requestors native tongue. We should all be that fucking talented.
But I digress. I scooted over to Cambridge to grab a little lunch at the Border Cafe where I complained about the toughness of the burrito wrap and they took the meal off the tab. I had insisted that they not do that since I enjoyed the chicken and it was not otherwise a problem. I wondered if they thought I might be looking to get a free lunch but I think they thought otherwise after I gave them my credit card with which to pay the tab. They returned my card with a tab that showed a zero amount billed and that was that. Well, almost. I gave the waiter a $5 tip for his trouble and went on my way. That is what you do when customers have a valid complaint. You deal with it head on. You do the right thing and you don't worry about your bottom line. I look forward to giving my good friends at the Border Cafe a second chance. Areeeba!
Retirement Boy
31/10/15 08:05
Today is my first day of officially being retired. It went so well at work that I wish in retrospect that I had done it sooner. Truth be told, I'm too young to retire. Not sure what I was thinking when I walked into the office some months back and declared with great fanfare that I was going to retire. Well, too late to change all of that. It's done. I gave my notice, put in my time, said my good byes, and walked out the door of the company that has employed me for the last 28-29 years. While it was good to tell folks far in advance that I was retiring, there is nothing that can prepare you for the day you actually walk out the door for the last time. Until that day actually arrives, it's a head game of great expectations, whimsical moments of fleeting fantasy, long stretches of time where you wonder if the day will ever come, and sometimes interesting conversations with co-workers about your hopes and aspirations once you are actually retired. I suppose that if I hated my job or found it otherwise unpleasant or untenable I would have walked out the door feeling satisfied with myself that I had put the miserable experience behind me once and for all. In other words, I would have had the last laugh. But, I enjoyed my job immensely and loved the people that I worked with day in and day out. I think I didn't realize how much I loved the human side of the equation until I was actually out of the building and on my way to a new life. I am confident that each and every one of my folks is on their way to a better place because of the things we accomplished together. And now, with my job done, I'm ready too move on. Ready to reinvent myself. Ready to be me again.
My last day at work was a beautiful sunny cool and crisp day with temperatures in the high forties or low fifties. Perfect for a bike ride if I managed to leave the office early enough and I did just that. I was eager to get my new life started and was feeling the wind at my back after feeling the weight of my workplace responsibilities melt away with every step I took as I made my way to my car. The words exhilarating and liberating come to mind and I was feeling more inebriated with every step I took. It was a quixotic blend of hope and optimism that could only be shaken or stirred after leaving the workplace and not before. I stopped by Starbucks for my usual afternoon dose of caffeine and arrived back home a little after three. Evan was where he usually is and I went about my business getting ready for my bike ride without any conversation one way or another before departing on my ride. I recall thinking that being able to ride this late in the season is a blessing and I endeavored to push the envelope one way or another to get even more miles and more days in before it is either too cold or too snowy to continue doing what I love to do.
Yesterday was no different than any other day on my ride north and south along New Hampshire's coastline other than the notable differences brought about by the seasonal changes. The marsh grasses were a deeper golden hue, the ocean's as seen from the shore more turbulent and icy, the remaining species of shore birds this time of the year more robust and singularly focused on making the best of their foraging efforts in the receding tidal marshes, and the skies a deeper blue perhaps nothing more than a reflection of the ocean beneath. All that aside, I got to thinking about the celebration dinner that Nancy and I enjoyed in the early evening at a restaurant in downtown Portsmouth. It's funny how you start out with the greatest of expectations when stepping inside a restaurant for the first time and where it goes from there is truly anyone's guess. We have no history with the Brazo restaurant other than passing it by when we go in and out of town but even then it is there for the taking like it or not. We looked at the menu online and decided that it was worth a try so arranged to arrive at 6. It was not busy in the least when we arrived so had our choice of seats and chose a seat near the window. In a nutshell, the overall experience was just so-so. We enjoyed the ambience but thought our table far too small, my paella sub standard in terms of size and substance (too much rice, not enough seafood, consistently pasty, and overpriced), and Nancy's swordfish was the size and shape of a six year-olds fist. Call me old fashioned but I like my swordfish served as a slab with the curve of the cut hugging my plate in a semi-circle like fashion. Anything short of that is an abomination on God's great earth.
All I could think of as we were enjoying our meal, and Nancy and I discussed this at length, was that had her sister ordered the swordfish she in all likelihood would have been quite disappointed. As knob-ish in appearance as it was, it was not lacking in flavor one way or another so Nancy did enjoy it and actually took a portion home to have the following day. I had a lovely coffee drink which was short on size but infused with more than enough alcohol and topped with just enough whipped cream to make it a bit more like a dessert than not. I've not come to fully appreciate having a nice buzz before sitting down to a meal due to my arms length relationship with alcohol but I can see it becoming an acquired taste especially with the addition of caffeine as a fueling agent. Nancy ordered a drink as well but one that was not particularly memorable although I do think she enjoyed it. I ordered their tapas special and was less than impressed with the thumb drive sized morsels served although the fish taco with all of its delicate seasonings served atop a flakey crust was clearly a cut above. What chef worth his salt (and in his right mind) thinks that a cherry tomato sliced in half and stuffed with cream cheese qualifies as a Tapas selection? I was occasionally distracted, and probably more so after having had half my drink, by the tattoos on our waitress's forearm. I'm sure there was a story behind the story but not one I was interested in hearing from her lips so made no inquiries of same. Everyone is a fucking critic! Right? Don't know that we will be giving Brazo our business in the future. There are just too many other options in and around Portsmouth and life is way too short to not demand perfection. Maybe we need to lower our standards. Maybe I'll get a tattoo while I'm at it.
My last day at work was a beautiful sunny cool and crisp day with temperatures in the high forties or low fifties. Perfect for a bike ride if I managed to leave the office early enough and I did just that. I was eager to get my new life started and was feeling the wind at my back after feeling the weight of my workplace responsibilities melt away with every step I took as I made my way to my car. The words exhilarating and liberating come to mind and I was feeling more inebriated with every step I took. It was a quixotic blend of hope and optimism that could only be shaken or stirred after leaving the workplace and not before. I stopped by Starbucks for my usual afternoon dose of caffeine and arrived back home a little after three. Evan was where he usually is and I went about my business getting ready for my bike ride without any conversation one way or another before departing on my ride. I recall thinking that being able to ride this late in the season is a blessing and I endeavored to push the envelope one way or another to get even more miles and more days in before it is either too cold or too snowy to continue doing what I love to do.
Yesterday was no different than any other day on my ride north and south along New Hampshire's coastline other than the notable differences brought about by the seasonal changes. The marsh grasses were a deeper golden hue, the ocean's as seen from the shore more turbulent and icy, the remaining species of shore birds this time of the year more robust and singularly focused on making the best of their foraging efforts in the receding tidal marshes, and the skies a deeper blue perhaps nothing more than a reflection of the ocean beneath. All that aside, I got to thinking about the celebration dinner that Nancy and I enjoyed in the early evening at a restaurant in downtown Portsmouth. It's funny how you start out with the greatest of expectations when stepping inside a restaurant for the first time and where it goes from there is truly anyone's guess. We have no history with the Brazo restaurant other than passing it by when we go in and out of town but even then it is there for the taking like it or not. We looked at the menu online and decided that it was worth a try so arranged to arrive at 6. It was not busy in the least when we arrived so had our choice of seats and chose a seat near the window. In a nutshell, the overall experience was just so-so. We enjoyed the ambience but thought our table far too small, my paella sub standard in terms of size and substance (too much rice, not enough seafood, consistently pasty, and overpriced), and Nancy's swordfish was the size and shape of a six year-olds fist. Call me old fashioned but I like my swordfish served as a slab with the curve of the cut hugging my plate in a semi-circle like fashion. Anything short of that is an abomination on God's great earth.
All I could think of as we were enjoying our meal, and Nancy and I discussed this at length, was that had her sister ordered the swordfish she in all likelihood would have been quite disappointed. As knob-ish in appearance as it was, it was not lacking in flavor one way or another so Nancy did enjoy it and actually took a portion home to have the following day. I had a lovely coffee drink which was short on size but infused with more than enough alcohol and topped with just enough whipped cream to make it a bit more like a dessert than not. I've not come to fully appreciate having a nice buzz before sitting down to a meal due to my arms length relationship with alcohol but I can see it becoming an acquired taste especially with the addition of caffeine as a fueling agent. Nancy ordered a drink as well but one that was not particularly memorable although I do think she enjoyed it. I ordered their tapas special and was less than impressed with the thumb drive sized morsels served although the fish taco with all of its delicate seasonings served atop a flakey crust was clearly a cut above. What chef worth his salt (and in his right mind) thinks that a cherry tomato sliced in half and stuffed with cream cheese qualifies as a Tapas selection? I was occasionally distracted, and probably more so after having had half my drink, by the tattoos on our waitress's forearm. I'm sure there was a story behind the story but not one I was interested in hearing from her lips so made no inquiries of same. Everyone is a fucking critic! Right? Don't know that we will be giving Brazo our business in the future. There are just too many other options in and around Portsmouth and life is way too short to not demand perfection. Maybe we need to lower our standards. Maybe I'll get a tattoo while I'm at it.
Hildabeast Hearings
23/10/15 07:42
Good morning, world! Two days without a bike ride and I feel like the wheels are coming off my world. That might be a slight exaggeration but not a stretch by any means. You get attached to certain things in your life and when they don't get the attention they deserve you quickly realize that they are more than just mainstays in your sometimes meaningless existence. Don't mean to poo-poo the lot of it but it certainly feels more true than not as I sit here thinking about the rest of my day and what exactly that looks like. I will get back on track with my riding as I can see the sun rising brilliantly on this otherwise cool and beautiful autumn morning here in northern New England. I don't know that I will try to compensate for those two days lost by riding any further but I will relish getting back in the saddle and I may take my time going about it since there is something to be said for living and loving in the moment even if we're only talking about taking a bike ride. I have good mind to rake some leaves as well. Those two red maples in our front yard are prolific in their spewing of leaves onto our lawn this time of year and if I wait too long the task of removing them becomes that much more difficult.
I also want to catch up on the latest Benghazi news as Hildabeast Clinton went before Congress yesterday and admitted that the movie narrative was a false narrative indeed and that she lied to the American public in order to protect Obama's run for a second term in office when she went in front of the American people and blamed the death's of our four Americans on a movie. When the caskets carrying the four Americans were returned to U.S. soil she told the grieving families that she and the President would stop at nothing to find and prosecute the individual or individuals responsible for making that film. There was no film and she knew it. To this day the families have heard nothing from the U.S. government in the aftermath of those heinous events and it is the responsibility of our governmental officials to fully investigate the facts of the case and to make their recommendations accordingly. The Republicans running the committee are and have been performing their due diligence while the Democrats on the committee are doing their level best to portray the hearings as a political witch hunt and to vilify the republicans for their perceived efforts to take down Hillary Clinton in a year when her path to the democratic nomination for the highest office in our land seems clear. The coronation will have to wait. Absent a criminal trial for wrongdoing on this or other matters related to the Clinton Foundation and their selling influence and access through the foundation, the democrats are certain to nominate one of the more nefarious of characters and one with a checkered past to say the least. In the wake of Obama's lawless reign over the course of the last eight years, our country can ill afford to have this secretive, calculating, and mendacious wretch at the helm of our country. If there is a god…
We'll run off to the local farmers market this morning in Portsmouth so we can say that we went to the market at least once this year. It has more to do with the fact that the timing of the market visit has always bumped up against our morning bike rides and the bike rides were always deemed more important. No big deal. It is what it is. Now that the mornings are sometimes too cool to ride out time is better spent doing other things and going to the market qualifies as "better things." Not sure that we need anything so that is not the reason we're going. I suppose there might be a vendor or two from local farms taking orders for Thanksgiving turkeys so we'll have to talk about that before we get there. It's not too early to do that. Right? And Christmas follows a month later so probably not too late to be thinking about that. Maybe we'll pick up some local root vegetables and have roasted veggies for dinner tonight or tomorrow night. We'll steer clear of any and all baked goods since it is better to not have them around the house if one is not wanting to eat them. It's a nippy 34 degrees out of doors here in town so I'm not feeling as though we need to rush out the door just yet. It's still early. There is still time to put my thoughts in order before heading out. Not much time, but there is time.
That nagging question that comes around every time we pick up Mrs G for a night out on the town is where the bejesus are we going to go to have a bite to eat. C'mon, Mrs G. You must have a preference or two. She usually has none. That's fine. There is no shortage of places to go but if we go to Panera one more time I think I'm going to stab myself in the eye with a ball point pen. I know she likes to go to Wendy's in a pinch and I know she prefers to order chili when she arrives. She surprised us last night when she asked if we might go to Fall River so she could have chow mein. You're kidding, right? Her request was somewhat wistful followed by a snicker and a look into the distance as though she could see the joint out of the corner of her eye in the diminishing light of the late afternoon. Not wanting to lose that moment in time, I stated without fear of objection or reprisal that we could probably be there in 4 hours or so. Oh no, she declared. It is probably a two hour ride and not a minute more. And then she and Nancy went around and around on the absolute fantasy of making the trip or not making the trip and I sat behind the wheel doing my best not to run over any pedestrians while navigating the back streets of Portsmouth. Mrs G went on to say that the chow mein in Fall River is unlike any other chow mein and she referred to it as a "sandwich." What the fuck? A sandwich? I had envisioned several small white containers the likes of which I used to buy night crawlers in as a kid in the Adirondacks with a folding lid and a little metal clasp acting as a handle. One container for the crispy noodles and another for the guts of the dish but two separate and distinct dishes. Certainly not something to be served between two slices of bread. It's no wonder she never has a suggestion when we go out to eat. All she has ever wanted is chow mein but has never said so until now. Nothing else would suffice. Do you have a second choice, Mrs G?
I also want to catch up on the latest Benghazi news as Hildabeast Clinton went before Congress yesterday and admitted that the movie narrative was a false narrative indeed and that she lied to the American public in order to protect Obama's run for a second term in office when she went in front of the American people and blamed the death's of our four Americans on a movie. When the caskets carrying the four Americans were returned to U.S. soil she told the grieving families that she and the President would stop at nothing to find and prosecute the individual or individuals responsible for making that film. There was no film and she knew it. To this day the families have heard nothing from the U.S. government in the aftermath of those heinous events and it is the responsibility of our governmental officials to fully investigate the facts of the case and to make their recommendations accordingly. The Republicans running the committee are and have been performing their due diligence while the Democrats on the committee are doing their level best to portray the hearings as a political witch hunt and to vilify the republicans for their perceived efforts to take down Hillary Clinton in a year when her path to the democratic nomination for the highest office in our land seems clear. The coronation will have to wait. Absent a criminal trial for wrongdoing on this or other matters related to the Clinton Foundation and their selling influence and access through the foundation, the democrats are certain to nominate one of the more nefarious of characters and one with a checkered past to say the least. In the wake of Obama's lawless reign over the course of the last eight years, our country can ill afford to have this secretive, calculating, and mendacious wretch at the helm of our country. If there is a god…
We'll run off to the local farmers market this morning in Portsmouth so we can say that we went to the market at least once this year. It has more to do with the fact that the timing of the market visit has always bumped up against our morning bike rides and the bike rides were always deemed more important. No big deal. It is what it is. Now that the mornings are sometimes too cool to ride out time is better spent doing other things and going to the market qualifies as "better things." Not sure that we need anything so that is not the reason we're going. I suppose there might be a vendor or two from local farms taking orders for Thanksgiving turkeys so we'll have to talk about that before we get there. It's not too early to do that. Right? And Christmas follows a month later so probably not too late to be thinking about that. Maybe we'll pick up some local root vegetables and have roasted veggies for dinner tonight or tomorrow night. We'll steer clear of any and all baked goods since it is better to not have them around the house if one is not wanting to eat them. It's a nippy 34 degrees out of doors here in town so I'm not feeling as though we need to rush out the door just yet. It's still early. There is still time to put my thoughts in order before heading out. Not much time, but there is time.
That nagging question that comes around every time we pick up Mrs G for a night out on the town is where the bejesus are we going to go to have a bite to eat. C'mon, Mrs G. You must have a preference or two. She usually has none. That's fine. There is no shortage of places to go but if we go to Panera one more time I think I'm going to stab myself in the eye with a ball point pen. I know she likes to go to Wendy's in a pinch and I know she prefers to order chili when she arrives. She surprised us last night when she asked if we might go to Fall River so she could have chow mein. You're kidding, right? Her request was somewhat wistful followed by a snicker and a look into the distance as though she could see the joint out of the corner of her eye in the diminishing light of the late afternoon. Not wanting to lose that moment in time, I stated without fear of objection or reprisal that we could probably be there in 4 hours or so. Oh no, she declared. It is probably a two hour ride and not a minute more. And then she and Nancy went around and around on the absolute fantasy of making the trip or not making the trip and I sat behind the wheel doing my best not to run over any pedestrians while navigating the back streets of Portsmouth. Mrs G went on to say that the chow mein in Fall River is unlike any other chow mein and she referred to it as a "sandwich." What the fuck? A sandwich? I had envisioned several small white containers the likes of which I used to buy night crawlers in as a kid in the Adirondacks with a folding lid and a little metal clasp acting as a handle. One container for the crispy noodles and another for the guts of the dish but two separate and distinct dishes. Certainly not something to be served between two slices of bread. It's no wonder she never has a suggestion when we go out to eat. All she has ever wanted is chow mein but has never said so until now. Nothing else would suffice. Do you have a second choice, Mrs G?
Burlington Schmurlington
18/10/15 07:23
Here we are. Sitting in my favorite coffee shop in one of my favorite towns, Burlington, VT. It's a rainy day just as they forecasted. Yesterday was crystal clear back in New Hampshire so it was hard to imagine that just 24 hours later and several hundred miles to the north that rain was in the forecast. There wasn't anything unequivocal about the forecast either. It called for 100% chance of rain. Doesn't get any more certain than that. And so the morning traffic here at Starbucks is perhaps busier than usual although the universal lust for caffeine cares little for weather forecasts and depends even less on the weather to keep its followers happy. I walked here from the Vermont Hotel this morning and discovered that it was closer than I thought. No sense in spending any more time than necessary in the rain. Sooner or later everything would turn soggy so it's all good.
It's not crazy busy around me which is good. The fewer distractions the better. I'm trying very hard to get on track and find the elusive groove that I know is there for the taking if I can only get there. Sometimes it's the subject matter and sometimes it's the fodder of the day and sometimes both of those things intersect at odd angles making for a tsunami or torrent that takes on a life of its own and makes sitting down with my journal a pleasure unto itself. When it doesn't work it is nothing more than a whack job. A waste of time. A walk down the primrose path without a destination where the the flowers look and smell nice along the way but ultimately goes nowhere and has little residual b=value after the fact. Funny thing is, I never quite know which I'm going to find when I start out. It's better that way. Serendipitous almost if that makes sense.
Industry goes on around me and I'm reminded that it is a work day here in the city on the shores of Lake Champlain. The trash still needs to be collected; coffee needs to be served; stores need to open their doors; pedestrians need to find their way along the corridors of life; the homeless need to find refuge wherever possible; there is just seemingly less of everything given the persistent and cold rain falling out of doors. Had I been sitting here some 20 years ago I might see fewer laptops, fewer electronic devices, more conversation and less social isolation in general. I don't have earbuds in my ears, a laptop in front of me, or even a smart phone beside me but I am plugged in. Make no mistake about that. Nancy is back at the hotel doing what I'm not sure. I sent her a text when I arrived but she has not texted me back. I am better left to my own devices in the early morning so go off on my own and do what I do. It is coming up on 10 in the morning so I should give some thought to heading back to the hotel. I spent far too much time reading articles on my iPad before getting started here so all in all I might regret not having gotten started sooner. Then again, maybe not.
It is a pleasant rain falling out of doors really. Not heavy enough where you worry about getting drenched in the short term and not much wind to speak of that would surely be problematic were I to be outside for a longer stretch of time. And it is not so cold that even the slightest rain would add to my misery were I given to such misery. I don't think we'll make reservations at the hotel restaurant tonight even though the menu had some very appealing items on it. Nancy will likely have her sights set on some other destination and I will follow like the dutiful husband that I am. It is her preferences that matter after all these years although she is occasionally short on suggestions and is a willing partner when I have a suggestion or two. You have to know when to throw in the towel and when to take the reins and it is not a science but an art. The art of give and take; the art of nothingness.
But today is a new day. Still in Burlington and still sipping the swill in the local coffee shop. Still wanting to get something down on paper and still wondering where the day is going. I can feel that stupid breakfast sandwich sitting in my stomach even though I ate it an hour ago or more. Need to stay with the healthy choices. Yesterday, it was two hard boiled eggs and today some breakfast sandwich with egg and sausage. I thought for a moment that I might be able to strip away the bread but everything was so molten that I didn't give it a second thought. But my coffee is hot and I seem to be finding my stride at this early hour of 7 something. Nancy is back at the hotel and probably still in bed but maybe thinking about getting up and getting some exercise before we check out by noon. I say by noon instead of at noon since we're wanting to get going early on so we can get back home at a reasonable hour. There are taxes to finish and Nancy has notes to take care of for work so that's fine. I'm hoping to get home in time to take a bike ride before dark. Don't anticipate any problems doing that short of an air strike by the Russians or a problem with my bike. That sandwich is just sitting there. I can feel it. I don't like that feeling. Need to work that feeling off somehow and don't know how I do that sitting here for an extended period of time. Just don't know how I get that done.
Need to drink this coffee before it goes cold on me. And now I have a couple of weeks left to work and that's it. I'm done with that career. Moving on as it were. To what I guess we'll see. When you think of all the things a man can do with his free time it's a little overwhelming and maybe that is part of the problem. It's that whole analysis paralysis thing. Or maybe I'll just spend my spare time going fishing. Fuck this screwy world of ours. How will I function in a world without schedules, a world without oversight, a world where my days are my own and not belonging to anyone else. Don't want to get too carried away with that since I am a married man with all the normal constraints suggested or otherwise implicit in that sort of arrangement but still. You know where I'm going with all of this. Or, like me, you don't know exactly. Maybe that is what I find so alluring and at the same time terrifying. Maybe I will just do the Forrest Gump bullshit. Life is nothing more than a box of chocolates. Really? Not sure why there isn't more of a crowd here at Starbucks. It might have something to do with the fact that we're in a shopping area that doesn't open up in any meaningful way for another hour or so.
Before getting started in this here journal I was reading some article in Twitter about Bernie Sanders wife. Great. Another fucking community organizer. I'm sitting in her backyard here in Burlington Vermont even though she and her socialist husband of hers grew up in Flatbush in the Bronx. How the locals here in Vermont bought into their bullshit progressive politics all those years ago I don't know. It doesn't say anything good about the Prius driving morons in this section of the woods who elected him to Congress and, more recently, the Senate. who are all these stupid fucks? Do they really hate the establishment that much that they would look to destroy the very system that allows them to feed the poor and house their sorry asses in housing that they could never otherwise afford given their natural predilection for feeding at the public trough? They want to be one with the privileged classes and hope that the morons that attend their rallies and cheer them on will pick up the freight at the end of the day. I can't say that it won't or can't happen since Obama has proven me wrong on two separate occasions going back to 2008. Don't get me going.
The music plays on here in my tiny little corner of the coffee shop and the good folks of Burlington and beyond filter in while I type away and ignore the lot of them. The sun is out today and I would say unequivocally that it is a welcome sight. It was a drab rainy and overcast day yesterday and today not so much. I will be sorry to leave this nub of the woods. It has allowed me to get away, get a much needed change of scenery, time to think about other things. Time to write and let my imagination wander. Time to forget little and not-so-little things back at home. People outside the shop here are walking their dogs, drinking their morning coffee, wearing shorts and hoodies not wanting to let go of the summer days yet embracing the fall season as crisp, delightful, and decadent as it can be here in Burlington, Vermont. I even had a Macintosh apple the other day which I actually enjoyed and I am not much of a fan of the Macintosh apple. I'm more of a Mutsu man which is a cross between a granny smith and and golden delicious apple. Yes, I want to get grab a few of those before the season comes to an end. They are at their best after the first frost and I'm not sure we've been there yet. I say that with a snicker since I was reading last night about snow falling in the White Mountains just south of here an hour or two. I was also looking at real estate on Lake Champlain on the web as I lie in bed in the dark just before 6 this morning. File that under "one never knows."
I'm feeling constrained this morning not so much by time or things to say but rather by my physical ability to pound away at this here keyboard for an extended period of time. I'm wondering if things would be any better were I able to go to all the restaurants, all the shops, and visit all the off the beaten path type joints hereabouts. Would I feel any better if I'd seen it all and had little or no desire to revisit one or more of the places ever again. Would I want to come here again? Is it all about conquering and experiencing the satisfaction of conquering or is there more to it? Maybe it's the vibe, the soul of the place, the rhythms you achieve that make it seem so real and worthwhile. It's not the people since I never speak to any of them. Why bother. I'm in my own little world and I like it just fine. Ask me if I feel the same way in another 10 minutes and I might have a very different answer for you. Get yourself some direction, Johnny boy. A man needs a purpose and you off all people need a purpose. It's true.
So I look forward to reinventing myself and we'll see where that takes us. Hopefully, to Burlington and beyond. Where are all the cheerleaders when I need them? Someone or other to egg me on. Someone to redirect my energies when they flail or to support me when I need that or more. Like the child climbing on the rock just outside the window here in Starbucks, I need to know that I can slide down the rock until my feet touch even though I don't know how far that is or how much pain I might have to endure just to find out if it's possible. And then your feet are on the ground and the world has not come to an end. You are reminded of that saying, all is well that ends well and you start looking around you for other rocks, bigger rocks, steeper rocks, more jagged rocks, rocks you can't get a grip on, and then you know that all things are possible.
Lake George Vacation 2015
13/September/2015 07:06 AM
Tuesday, the day after labor day 2015. I'm sitting here in Starbucks having a nice hot cup of coffee. Really need it. I stayed up a bit later than usual last night watching Netflix on m pad. Couldn't get the tv to work no matter which buttons I pressed. It wouldn't have been so bad had I not been alone at the place at the lake. Nancy went home yesterday to pick up Evan and bring him back to the lake after his class at Great Bay. I might have gone with her but he came down with a little something so it will be a full court press to get him back to the lake house within 24 hours. I'm not convinced that he wants to come up but I could be wrong. Nancy was willing to make the trip alone so that was that. I called her once she arrived and the trip had gone well. There had been no unexpected surprises and the traffic was not a problem. You know how Labor Day weekends go sometimes. Anyway, good to know she was home safely.
Nancy's sister, Debbie, and her boyfriend Willie, arrived on Sunday and left on Monday around noon or a bit after. We took in the usual sights including Sandy Bay, San Souci, and the sights and sounds of Lake George Village. There is a story to be told for each of those destinations so maybe I'll get there here today and maybe I won't. Suffice it to say that the water was fine, the spots in Sandy Bay elusive but available, the food at San Souci was not bad at all, and the village came with its own surprises. The biggest surprise there was the number of people cruising the streets and the ethnic and racial diversity of same. I was telling Rollie that the crowds of days past were 85% Canadian and 15% Warrensburg and those days are gone. As long as we continue to have a lawless president in the White House who insists on open borders and the purge of Christians we will be at risk for losing the heart and soul of our nation.
After sitting in the boat for a while on Sandy Bay and watching Nancy and her sister, Debbie, swim off towards the shore I decided it was time for me to go in as well and I left Willie to his own devices. A woman bumping around the bay in a kayak approached Willie when the three of us were off galavanting near the shore and asked if he was Woody (aka Rollie.) Too funny. Can't remember how that conversation went but Willie told it in a way that made us all laugh. I think the woman heard what Willie said about not being Rollie, knew in her heart that the man who said he wasn't Rollie was surely sitting in Rollie's boat, and decided to call him on it. "That's Rollie's boat", she said matter of factly. Maybe she gave up after that. Maybe she thought she had said enough but not too much and that it was a good time to end the conversation. She may have paddled off looking once or maybe twice over her shoulder not comfortable with how the conversation ended and the best course of action was to put as much distance between her and the man in Rollie's boat who said he wasn't Rollie as possible.
He didn't look like the kind of man who would follow her but she wasn't taking any chances. The bay was choking with activity and an unlikely place as one can imagine for a criminal act but she knew all too well that there were plenty of ways to die when and where nobody would be the wiser. If the man who said he wasn't Rollie was in fact not Rollie, but driving Rollie's boat, then he was certainly capable of much much more. Nothing sinister necessarily but she wasn't taking any chances. We never saw the woman Wille referred too so didn't know what had become of her. His descriptions were vague but not alarmingly so. We had no reason to be suspicious so laughed aloud when he told us the story in no more than two or three sentences. Two or three well thought out and crafted sentences that is retrospect ended too abruptly. It was laughter intended to deceive and we fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I thought to myself that it could have just as easily been me who had that conversation and maybe it ended well and maybe it didn't. Unlike Willie, I would have kept the encounter to myself. No need to leave a trail of any kind to raise suspicions when and where the specter of possible crime was involved. Drownings are all too common in this lake and they nearly go unreported except that they serve as a reminder to visitors near and far that the lake, while benevolent in its beauty and attraction, has a history of taking lives. One can never be too careful so it is best not to ask too many questions of people you think you know driving boats that as far as you know don't belong to them.
We had a nice ride on the lake heading north out of Sandy Bay with Elizabeth Island as our destination and kept going once we arrived at the island. The water was as choppy as it gets this time of the year with a roughness created by the horrendous cross currents of waves in the widest part of the lake that were akin to what they refer to as a perfect storm in North Atlantic lore. The winds were blowing out of the south enough to stiffen a flag but without the oomph to create white caps in the widest section of the lake. It was a sunny warm afternoon and the drone of the boat engine was ever present as we pushed past Camp Chingacook and points north where camps along the shoreline disappeared and vast sections of the Adirondack reserve rose thousands of feet from shore to mountain top. When we had had enough of dodging rogue waves we turned southward once again and hugged the coastline where the waters were less chaotic. Once back at the camp and after docking we noticed a slick of sorts forming at the rear of the boat. It took a while to sort out but by the time the next morning rolled around we were all feeling a little better about something that ended up, we think, being far less serious than maybe it could have been.
San Souci was busy as expected but we drove there nonetheless hoping against hope that we would both find a place to park and something of our liking to eat. Parking was the bigger of the two hurdles but a space opened up the minute we arrived and not a minute too soon since we were joined by others who we saw milling about outside the restaurant as we arrived. I was surprised that the restaurant was not busier and I think a little surprised that it was as noisy as it was for the few parties that were seated when we walked in. We had no problems finding something to eat both on the menu and on the specials board so ordered as quickly as possible so as to not to lose our seemingly positive momentum. It helped that our waitress was both attentive and easy on the eyes. She was equally vivacious and she may have notched our collective energies up just enough to get us past the noise and other distractions in what was probably standard fare at this long standing neighborhood haunt. And Nancy, true to form, took a liking to my coffee drink and despite my moving it here and there around the table to get it out of her line of sight she found it every time and sipped away at her hearts content. I rationalize times like this by telling myself that were I to drink the beverage as ordered that I would be perhaps unable or unwilling to drive having consumed far more alcohol than is usual for me. Far more indeed.
Rollie joined us on Monday and we looked at his boat together so that was good. After Debbie and Willie had left he stayed the afternoon and we chatted about everything under the sun. He played a tape recording that my father had made of a conversation he and I had in 1990. Did I know he was recording that conversation? It was benign as conversations go but funny nonetheless to hear my 1990 voice and perhaps more interestingly to hear my dad's voice again. It was really nice to hear his voice. God, Rollie and I kicked around a lot of things. That boy has a history floating around in his head that he really ought to get down on paper when he has a spare moment. I think our sister Kathy has a good recollection of things as well but her recollections are occasionally suspect and maybe even self serving from time to time. Memories fade but memories twisted and contorted to serve their masters desires and dreams live on as though etched in cement for eternity. I'm one to talk. I write it all down, well almost all of it, and put my own spin on events when and where the normal flow of events don't suit me. In other words, I make it up as I go along. Rollie and I talked a lot about uncle Karl as well and his relationship with dad which was nonexistent toward the end of Karl's life according to Rollie. As one might expect, the bad blood arose out of the supposed mismanagement of money and perhaps even a lawsuit about same. You just can't make this stuff up!
I keep putting this down and picking it up again. Can't remember what I've written and maybe don't care. Maybe I'll say it again but differently the second time around. I have to say that driving the 350Z that Rollie let me have for the week has been a little weird. It has an altogether different vibe that takes some getting used to. It isn't so much about how I feel driving it because you know that is going to be different compared to driving my 2000 Volvo station wagon. More noticeable than that is how other drivers respond when they come up on me in traffic, on the highway, etc. Just yesterday, for example, I was tooling down the road minding my own business (tell me if you've heard this story before) and I noticed that the vehicle behind me was tailing me in an odd sort of way. They were a little closer than they should have been and it wasn't any coincidence that they looked to be younger drivers. The fact that I could tell at all was not a good thing. It felt aggressive and testosterone driven. Responding in kind would have been irresponsible and reckless and I was not in any hurry to facilitate or otherwise encourage that sort of train wreck. True to form, they waited until we had rounded the bend and passed me with room to spare on the straightaway. I was happy to let them have their moment but the fact of the matter is that this never would have happened in my other more staid vehicle. I don't know if I want that kind of responsibility. Something to think about.
Looks like another nice day on the lake her in Lake George. Nancy and Evan arrived last night a little after 9. I'm glad they made the trip. Nancy drove home on Monday to pick up Evan after his class at Great Bay on Tuesday morning and promised a hasty return. The class never worked out, Evan was down and out with some asthma related illness, and they had a late day doctors appointment to make before getting on the road. They survived all of that and made the long trip back here despite the fact that Nancy was not keen on making any portion of the drive in the dark. It was unavoidable of course but she was clearly in the home stretch by the time darkness fell so perhaps not an issue. She looked none the worse for wear upon her arrival and Evan seemed better than I expected which was good. He coughed a couple of times as he got out of the car and mostly for effect I think. I stopped by Dirty John's earlier in the evening and bought three dogs for Evan which I microwaved when he arrived. I had a nice greek salad with chicken which I enjoyed when I sat down to have dinner well before their arrival. I spent a while tidying up the kitchen so that everything was in its proper place by the time Nancy and Evan arrived and all was well with the world. It was not an overly cool evening but neither was it oppressively warm and it is now just 69 degrees but is expected to reach the low 80's by late this afternoon. Just what the doctor ordered.
I always feel good when I stick to my usual biking routines while on vacation. There is something about just getting on the bike and doing it and maybe getting it behind you that resonates with me. Not doing it is akin to carrying unnecessary baggage so better to get it done. I'd like to say that is has something to do with the endorphin fix that athletes get when getting in a particular zone but I'm not sure that applies to me. Then again, I do think that I am a bit of a daredevil here and there and I take chances that others might consider risky. I think I like living on edge truth be told. So, it has less to do with endorphins and more to do with the thrill of taking chances. Speeding down hills at a breakneck pace with faulty brakes; not looking twice before crossing lanes with crushing and unpredictable traffic patterns; pushing myself up impossibly steep and elongated inclines until my heart is jumping out of my chest; and smirking to myself when drivers on the road, surprised by my crazy antics, lay on the horn with irritation and surprise. People do funny things when reacting to the unexpected. I would have been a formidable candidate with a rap sheet for a resume' had I sought employment as a bicycle courier in an inner city like Boston or New York. I would ride with the best of them and better than most. Don't know where that comes from. I always thought it had something to do with being more competitive than most but am rethinking that now. I fear it is something infinitely more sinister. We need not go there now.
I can hear the family stirring. This house if nothing if not a collection of wood aged and assembled with love and care. Every step taken by one or more of its occupants reveals direction, presence, and sometimes even resistance. The wooden floors creak with annoyance and thunder with a premeditated allowance for tomfoolery as traffic passes from room to room and in and out of the house over the course of the day. Wood used in the construction of this home on the lake still retains its original character and shape and each room has a different story to tell. The patterns of wood when laid down collide in unnatural ways but feel natural underfoot and provide just the right acoustics for voices heard and unheard. Waves caused by passing boats of varying sizes and shapes wash ashore just feet away from the front of the home resonating with a sound eerily like applause and carry through the house channeled by the open doorways. It is easy to take these sounds for granted. They are ever present and easily assimilate into ones comings and goings. Maybe this is what happens when the house welcomes back old friends and those who would protect and preserve it for future generations. Maybe it isn't applause at all. It is the collective sigh of a home with a soul coexisting in a harsh but otherwise loving environment.
What a difference a day makes. The high here today on the lake, if you consider it a high, is 71 degrees. The only good thing about 71 degrees is that it makes drinking my coffee that much more pleasurable. This is a far cry from the high temperatures of the last day or two which felt somewhat oppressive but perhaps less so here on the lake where the flow of air is constant and cooling. And, I think these cooler temperatures might be better all around for our biking activities wherever that takes us today. And, taking the family for a ride in the 350Z with the top down while overcast is preferable to doing that under cloudless skies. The sun can be overbearing and relentless sometimes and it gets to be too much. It is surprising to think as well that we've been here since Sunday and we have only been out in the boat once and that was four days ago as I sit here on the screened in porch overlooking the lake on a very overcast and cool Thursday morning. Granted, Evan has only been here since yesterday but it seems we found other things to do yesterday so we did not do any boating. And what about Saratoga? It is true that what I usually do when we visit that lovely town is to camp out in the local Starbucks with my iPad while Nancy goes shopping. I'm down (good) with that.
Outside this idyllic encampment, the world continues on it's merry or not so merry way. Financial markets around the world are topsy turvy as ever and feeling the pain of decelerating commodity values and devalued asset classes no longer buoyed by long stretches of quantitative easing; Ted Cruz and Donald Trump, two of the top tier presidential candidates for 2016, held a rally on the steps of the US capitol yesterday calling for the defeat of the process that will invariably give Iran the means to build a nuclear arsenal and further imperil the state of Israel and those who have opposed them over the years including the United States; Hundreds of thousands of Syrians are fleeing that war torn country while adjoining countries build walls and fortify their borders to keep their own populations and cultures from imploding under the collective weight of this immigration nightmare; Apple announced new versions of their Apple TV, the iPhone 6, the iPad Pro and the markets responded in ho-hum fashion by sending their stock down another 2 percent; Gas prices have come down and now average around $2.30 a gallon as crude oil seemingly bottoms out at around $42 a barrel; Hillary Clinton remains the likely nominee for her party but the coronation is on hold while the party gnashes their teeth over her plummeting poll numbers when it comes to trustworthy-ness and honesty - in the meantime, Joe Biden contemplates getting into the race and would likely quash yet another Clinton run at the highest office in the land; The impeachment of Obama is imminent and his collaboration with the Muslim brother hood and his alliances with countries and ideologies that call for the defeat of our great country run counter to the oath of office he took as he placed his hand on the Quran while repeating the oath. These laws, once broken, are punishable by death.
It was a good vacation on the lake this year by all accounts. We had just the right mix of weather, friends and family, and exercise. Next year maybe we'll stay longer than the one week we usually plan for. With any luck that will give us more time to see and spend time with family, more opportunity to do the things we like to do, and more time to enjoy the lake. I should like to revisit the new coffee joint in downtown Glens Falls and have another cup of their delicious java. And no, they don't have a coffee of the day. I'll have to remember that before bellying up the counter and making a fool of myself by asking such a question. They probably thought to themselves, what rock has this bozo been living under? Maybe he would prefer something from Dunkin Donuts, or worse if there is such a thing. Honey Bee Donuts maybe? And, we don't have a fucking drive in window so don't ask.
We never did get over to the cemetery so I regret not getting around to that. Rollie wanted to take a minute to go there on our last day at the lake and we had that conversation while we were sitting in our car packed up and ready for the long trip home in New Way Lunch's parking lot. It was too late and our long trip home ;ay ahead of us so we were not wanting to be unduly delayed or distracted from our task at hand. Fact of the matter is, ain't nobody over there at the cemetary going anywhere any time soon so our visit can wait. We also never got over to Lake George Village while the car show was in town. We we're close when doing the biking trail and the skies were overcast so it was perfect for picture taking but we just didn't do it. Never saw Lise or Kathy either despite our best intentions to do just that. We spent a bit of time with Denise not long ago so had no plans to get together with her other than the plans we usually have while in the are which is to take the sisters out for lunch or dinner. Also never saw Rollie's family but spent time with Rollie so was not completely in the dark on matters involving Terri and Carli. Neither did they see Evan so that was that.
Thanks to everyone who made this vacation possible, with a special thanks to Rollie for providing both a boat and a car which proved invaluable (and fun!) while Nancy was was away in New Hampshire picking up Evan.
Idle Thoughts
15/August/2015 07:15 AM
…Listening to Amy Winehouse unplugged. Been up for a while this morning. Since the crack of dawn really. Turned over in bed while it was still dark and a little after 4:30 in the morning. Grabbed my iPad and started reading the latest twitter feed. What is all of this business about entire populations fleeing war torn countries and inundating Europe arriving day after day by the thousands? And then I'm reading somewhere yesterday that our government is shipping refugees from Somalia, Ghana, and other hellholes on this planet to the fine state of North Dakota. And where did I read that in New York or California, or maybe this was in Massachusetts that they are creating all Spanish speaking classrooms for the illegal aliens that continue to turn up in numbers unparalleled in recent history thanks to the immigration policies of our commander-in-chief, Barry Obama. In the upcoming election I'm voting for the first republican candidate who promises to overturn every one of Barry's illegal executive orders. If he or she promises to prosecute Barry and his entourage of criminals occupying our white house I might even vote twice for that candidate.
Just call me Mr. Compassion.
Back in the Hood
14/August/2015 08:13 AM
As a postscript to an otherwise terrific trip up through Stowe, Vt, and then on to Burlington, and then down through Middlebury, Vt where we hooked up with Denise for a little lunch, I would say it went well. The weather cooperated, the hotels were accommodating, we could have done a better job making reservations around the Burlington leg of the trip, there were no shortage of decent places to grab a bite to eat, and I could always find a Starbucks when I needed one. That is to say, my itinerary always includes spending time writing in my journal (blog) in the early morning and my favorite haunt and place to write is Starbucks. The good news is that seldom do I find myself in a spot where there is not a Starbucks or, at a minimum, a place that comes off as a Starbucks wanna be. That means a place where the coffee is pitch black, seating is accommodating, and some kind of music playing in the background always helps.
Lunch with Denise came out of the blue. In other words, it was not planned. I think it was Nancy who said something about being in Middlebury around lunchtime as we were heading south through Vt. Putting two and two together, we gave Denise a ring and, voila, she answered. She met us in downtown Middlebury shortly before the noon hour where there were any number of places to grab lunch and after stopping in a place or two we ended up with a recommendation to yet one more place which is where we ended up. It was one of those order at the counter and take your food to an empty table kind of places. The three of us had salads and Saratoga spring waters to drink. We sat under a canopy of sorts outside the shop and enjoyed some very pleasant conversation about this and that. It was about family mostly and it was good to hear all was going well with everyone. We talked a bit about our upcoming trip to the lake as well and I should have talked to Denise about getting together with the sisters for dinner sometime during the week but forgot to mention it. I'll try to follow up with her on same. Maybe making dinner at the camp is a better idea? What would I make? Would I have to please everybody? Maybe we can make it a pot luck sort of thing.
It's fun having a week off. Yes, indeed. A week to do whatever I or we please within reason. Not sure what that means but it feels right saying it. I really should have created a to-do list. I wanted to wash some windows, do a little maintenance on the snow blower, run the generator, etc., but I've not worried about not getting to those things. And now that the week is coming to an end, and I still have three days before I return to work, the monkeys are off my back and I can do whatever I damn well please. If I want to go for a bike ride instead, and I surely do and will once I finish writing in this here blog, I will do just that. Nancy has gone off to her cycling class so I am on my own and sometimes prefer that when riding. I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder to see where she is and then worrying when I don't see her. Did she get a flat? Maybe she fell after running over or into something. Maybe a car clipped her or ran her off onto the side of the road and she is sitting there with bent rims and hurt feelings. You just don't know so can't assume anything. Of course, I never tell her I prefer riding alone. How do you think that would make her feel? Off I go then before I lose the window I'm wanting to take advantage of. Before the sun gets too high in the sky, the crowds along my path too dense and too boisterous, and the winds picking up as they do here along the coast come midday.
Burlington by way of Stowe VT
09/August/2015 07:22 AM
Buenos dias, laddies. It's a fine morning here in Stow VT. Kick ass, really. Don't know about this coffee joint but it sure helps to have some caffeine. It was Nancy's idea to come to Stow but I'm good with going to places we've never been before. It's small, quaint, and well, as they say maybe a little to often here in Vermont, bucolic. Oh, and it's foggy. We're hoping to get some biking in today before the day gets too long in the tooth so I'm looking forward to that. I was a little disappointed that they only had egg sandwiches in this place. I was hoping for some quiche. Yes, a real manly breakfast. Just trying to stay away from the bread. I think gluten may not be the friend I was looking for all these years. The more I hear about people trying to avoid it it makes me wonder if it isn't something worth avoiding. And there are those days you are just looking to put something in your stomach. This might be one of those days. Nonetheless, I'll stay away from the bread given half a chance.
People are filing into this place at a pretty good clip now as the hour gets closer to 8. The village is waking up I guess. Where are all the farmers? The fisherman? The breakfast cooks? The beauticians? And, where are all the fucking Vietnamese nail buffers? I may be two cups of coffee into my morning before I start seeing them. I'm wondering about this trail we're supposed to be riding on today too. Is it too long? Is it long enough? Is it too busy? Does it overlook anything of interest? Will I get a flat tire? Stay positive, Johnny. The day is long and it is all in front of you. Better than that, and honest to god let's get with the program, your week is ahead of you. You have no meetings and no conference calls. No taking your laptop into the nearest huddle room to catch a tier two anything. I love the people but the process is tedious. So, I put all of that behind me this week and I get to think about things I want to think about. World hunger; trading derivatives; world markets; books I have but haven't yet read; music that hasn't been written; Paths that haven't been travelled; fishing spots that haven't been fished; am I forgetting anything?
This is such a nice little spot. I'm seated at a window table, one of two in this place, and I'm left wondering when Starbucks is coming to town and just how long this place will stay in business once that happens. Looking out over the town from my seat, the fog is burning off slowly revealing more and more of the distant pastures with every sip of my coffee. I think all of the fog may yet burn off and it could be a steamy day. That's okay, right? I mean, does it really matter? I'm not one to obsess about such things when alternatives abound. There are 81 restaurants in Stowe. Who knew. Just walking to this coffee shop I think I passed 5 of them. Where the fuck are all the rest? Turns out we ate at one of the best last night. Oh, and you're a bloody restaurant critic now, are you? All I would say is that while we had a moments hesitation when we were told that they couldn't accommodate us without a reservation we got over ourselves fairly quickly and took a seat at the mahogany horseshoe shaped bar where we decided that it was someplace we could probably eat and be okay with it.
I ordered steamed mussels in some kind of cream sauce served with a hot roll and topped with some kind of gritty concoction which is hard to describe but was quite good. Sometimes you're just thankful that food that should be served hot is served as advertised and this was. The bar itself was in the basement of a building in downtown Stowe but looked like it had been a bar for well over a hundred years and maybe more. Seating and spacing was not generous by any stretch of the imagination but that may have been part and parcel the pubs allure. It was a small space and you couldn't navigate the aisles without turning one or more parts of your body to the side or stopping altogether to let someone to pass. I order a stir fry as well and hoped for less rice and or pasta and more vegetables. The serving size was surprisingly small but sufficient nonetheless and I was satisfied that I had ordered the right dish. Nancy ordered shrimp tacos and the shrimp were halved and braised on one side and very flavorful. I'm not a big fan of fish, shrimp, or other types of tacos but I had one shrimp off her plate and took what she didn't eat back to the hotel for a snack later that evening. We both ordered drinks and were both fairly intoxicated and unsteady on our feet after having just one beverage. As we got up to leave, the stairs leading up and out of the place seemed steeper than we remembered them coming in. Thank god for handrails.
I've seen and heard a few cars going through town that sported very loud mufflers. Either the rules around here when it comes to this sort of thing are extremely lax or there are more than a few vehicles that will more than likely not pass inspection when the time comes. And the locals? An earthy bunch to be sure. You can tell by the way they dress. Birkenstocks and bell bottoms. And the music? It's a throw back from the 70's wherever you go. Were it not for certain things in and about town I would say that this is a town that has been forgotten by time. Don't get me wrong. I like Creedence Clearwater, Led Zeppelin, and others from back in the 70's. And this watering hole, as I understand it, is an extremely popular place to frequent especially in the winter. It is a veritable skiers paradise and most of the growth over the last number of years has been due to that interest. Not entirely a bad thing I suppose. It is, no doubt, a small price to pay in order to survive the winter months in this mountain enclave.
I don't know that we'll be getting our bike ride in today due to the rain. It's not raining hard but it is raining so Nancy may not want to go. I would go but certainly not if it starts raining any harder than it is now. I'm looking out the window here at the cafe and see umbrellas and windshield wipers so that should tell you something. In a way, taking biking off the table frees up time from our schedule to do other things before we check out so I think I'm ok with the rain. I might like to stay here at my little table near the window and put a bit more down on "paper." Maybe not. Maybe I just want to sit down and have a leisurely breakfast, an omelet or something. Maybe I just want to sip my coffee rather than chugging it just to move the day along. Vacations mean slowing down, not speeding up. When your destination is the town that time forgot you should take note and live in the moment no matter how long that moment takes.
It was good that we took the car last night and drove on the highway leading out of town in an effort to find a place to have dinner. It felt good to be in the car again for some odd reason. It felt good to roll down the windows and let the air circulate around us cooling things down and putting a stop to the humidity that was ever present but not overly oppressive. It just kind of wears you down so better to change things up and that is what we did. I think Nancy was a little tired from all of her kicking around town and as much as she enjoyed doing what she was doing it was good for her to change it up as well. We pulled in to a parking lot at a restaurant called "The Bench" where we got the last parking spot. We took that as a good sign. The more popular the place, the better the food and drink, the livelier the atmosphere, the better. Right?
That turned out to be true for the most part. The place was spacious and as bustling as the parking situation suggested and we were promptly seated at a pleasant table in a corner where the light was nice, the view was good from at least one of the seats (Nancy's), and our waitress was efficient but not overly self effacing. It was one of those places built around a wood burning oven and most but not all items on the menu were pizza related. Or, do they call it flatbread these days. I ordered the mussels and they too were cooked in the oven. The mussels were served in a small cast iron skillet and came steeped in a tomato based broth that reminded me a little bit of spaghetti sauce. While that didn't thrill me I could have just as easily had the sauce on pasta and would have found that to be acceptable meal. There were just enough mussels to satisfy me before the main course was served so I was happy, how do they say, as a clam. Nancy did not get an appetizer and she is not a fan of mussels so sharing was not necessary. We sipped our soda waters till the entrees were served and had a jolly good time taking in the sights and enjoying our time together. When the salads arrived, hers topped with chicken and mine with ahi tuna, we busied ourselves with the task at hand. All in all, a decent meal with only a minor indiscretion here and there which we happily ignored. Who serves salads without tomatoes?
We told Evan that we might be coming home a day earlier when talking to him on the phone last night. He was not pleased. We were just jawboning about going to Burlington or not going to Burlington depending on the weather and that was one of the options. Who wants to go to Burlington if the rain keeps us from enjoying the sights and sounds of one of our favorite destinations? Nancy was certainly not deterred and as I sit here this morning I'm thinking as well that rain or no rain going to Burlington was not a bad idea. We're taking this trip as a dry run to a larger trip coming soon so we might as well take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, what would we be doing at home in the rain that we can't do just as easily in Burlington?
One of the comments we saw in trip advisor, as it relates to this watering hole of a town, is that flies are a problem. Not sure what that is all about but I can tell you firsthand that we've seen them here and about town from the moment we stepped into town. We've not stayed at outdoor cafes just to avoid them. Even here at the cafe, at the early hour of 7, I was seated for no more than a minute when I had a little visitor. Just go away! We're not talking about those big bad boys or even green heads whose bites can stop you in your tracks. These are common, everyday, houseflies or so it seems. Maybe they are the kinds of flies that morph out of decay and hint of morbidity and death. A harbinger of things to come. If we're seeing them it may well be too late for us. All we can do is swat them away and hope that wherever we go that they do not follow. They are pesky little fucks so worth mentioning. Not that anyone cares or can do anything about it.
I can hear people ordering at the counter, children crying out for their parents attention, the clatter of cups and the shuffling of feet, the jostling of chairs, and the constant but pleasant banter offered by the staff as their patrons file in and out of the cafe. The door behinds me opens and closes quietly but with a telltale creek probably not worthy of someones attention. My nose is squarely to the grindstone and my head is buzzing with thoughts that may or may not ever become clear enough to get down for posterity. There is a small child seated at a nearby table. She is cute as a button and she sits quietly. Whether she is amused, bewildered, astonished, or none of those things I'll never know. She is caught up in the moment as perhaps any other child her age and that may be for the better. Her parents, I'm sure thankfully, need not cajole, mollify, or even pay attention to her in her moment of peace. Her sweet unintelligible voice fills the air from time to time reminding her caretakers that she occupies space in the universe just as they do and that she is just as if not more important than they are. She is the future after all and that has become lost in the momentous rhythms of their collective family existence. They would do well to pay her the attention she deserves for chances like this are fleeting at best. There will, no doubt, be others but none as opportune as this. Just ask her, she'll tell you.
My coffee is getting cold but that is not unexpected so I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I don't or can't. I'm wanting all of the "hands up,don't shoot" crowd in Ferguson to go away or get locked up. Grievances my ass. Get a fucking job and get off the streets. If you don't obey the cops then you go to jail. It's as simple as that. And will someone please tell Obama that the Iran deal is off the table and there will be no deal? That asshole can't get out of office fast enough for me. And yes, we want to defund Planned Parenthood and sanctuary cities since there is a rule of law and without a rule of law we're doomed as a society. Obama's reign has given rise to candidates like Trump who are no more suited to sit in the White House than its present occupant. I was awake at 4 this morning reading about Governor Mike Pence who signed a bill into law requiring that aborted fetuses deserve to be treated with dignity and respect and will forthwith be either buried or cremated once aborted. They will no longer be sold for their body parts or washed down drains by the Planned Parenthoods of the world. If you can't outlaw the very act of abortion you can at the very least provide a modicum of dignity and respect for its victims. This very subject is saddening and the rain outside is falling with greater intensity now making the world outside my own little sanctuary here in the coffee shop seem dark and foreboding.
Burlington is everything we thought it would be and more. We were here many years ago but some things never change. It is a beautiful little town that sits on the edge of Lake Champlain and is by and large a college town. Maybe tourism comes in a close second. Not sure. We hemmed and we hawed before making our way north and hour or so from Stowe due to the weather but those fears were largely allayed when the rain stopped and the skies cleared by the time we arrived in town. We knew a couple of things. We knew we wanted to grab a bite to eat and we knew we wanted to get out of the car and walk around town a bit if for no other reason than to get reacquainted with an old haunt. Well, a haunt in the sense that it was a favorite destination even though we've only been there but a handful of times. On one occasion, in fact, we drove several hours north to Burlington so we could catch a ferry to New York where we then traveled south until we ended up in Lake George. Talk about haunts. Someone recently referred to Lake George as my happy place. I had to think about that for a moment but it is, in fact, true. It also happens to be where I grew up.
We also knew we wanted to see the movie or documentary of Amy Winehouse's life so we set sail on that particular course. We made the mistake of not making hotel reservations in town so had to travel south a few miles before we could find what we considered to be suitable accommodations. You would be surprised at how flexible your requirements become when the sun sets and you are tired after a long day of activities. Had it not been for plans we made to see the movie later that evening, and our desire to see the documentary after blowing off a number of opportunities back in New Hampshire, we might well have driven the 3-4 hours it was going to take to get back home. I was up to the drive and getting a little tired of all of the nonsense we ran into while looking for a place for the night. How is it that every time we got on the phone with someone to ask about reservations we ended up talking a person in Southeast Asia who couldn't understand us when said the word "Burlington." That's "B" as in boy. They were quite clear about there being no availability so that was a good thing. Time to get off the phone and continue our search. Thanks for nothing.
We had lunch at Mirabelle's in Burlington. Maybe I order chef salads because of the variability in how they are assembled. Maybe I like them because they combine salad with a bunch of other things that pass for protein and protein is a good thing. Only four dressings on the menu? What is that all about? I opted for the sesame ginger because everything else seem to have a cream base and I was wanting to do without something creamy and glutenous. The cafe was lively with families, couples, students, professors and the like. There were a couple of fuddy duddies sitting within earshot of us reading their students papers off their cell phones and comparing notes as though they were the only patrons in the place. A big mistake in my humble opinion. What if I recognized my son's writing and heard them saying nasty things about his writing style or, worse yet, his ability to complete a sentence using the english language. How intolerant would I be? Would I let on that I thought he was a nitwit and that commenting on someone's writing in a public place was an asinine thing to do? Who knows.
Nancy, for whatever reason, had a more resilient memory of the things we did back in Burlington back in the day. She kept asking me if I remembered this or remembered that and I kept drawing blanks. Some things I remembered very well but other things not so much. I was a little surprised at the things she remembered and wondered if I should have retained the same memories or were these things she experienced and I did not? Worse yet, were these things that the two of us experienced and now only one of us remembers? I do think that there is such a thing as retaining things that have no value and I would dismiss that as time not well spent. I would go so far as to say that I would make an extra effort to not do that and would encourage anyone who is willing to listen to do the same thing. Maybe I should take more pictures and I could refer to them under the cover of darkness the next time she asks down the road. I thought for a moment that I might make something up just to stump her so I wasn't the only one experiencing pre-alzheimers. Thank god for GPS is all I have to say. What I forget, it remembers. Or, it figures it out while I'm still scratching my chinny-chin-chin.
I was so trying to be good last night when we waltzed into the city market after the show around 10:30 and for the most part I succeeded. I wanted to avoid eating garbage before bedtime but thought that something, a small something, a snack of miniscule proportions might be just what the doctor ordered. The place was a busy even at the late hour of 10:30 and I went with the hustle bustle and allowed it take me where it would until I found myself in a good place. I avoided the pastries, the quick meals packaged for folks on the go, the ten-piece sushi dishes that would have been fine were it not for the rice that I wanted to avoid, and frozen food section which was for people more patient than I and with infinitely more time on their hands.
It was raining quite hard when we left the theater but it had stopped by the time we reached the market that was close by. I managed to have a slightly soggy shirt which quickly chilled when I entered the market. I felt almost hypothermic and sought out the warm exhaust emanating from one or more of the refrigeration chests where I took refuge for seconds at a time while considering my next move. Nancy was well on her way to other areas in the store and had left me to my own devices which was fine. I just needed to get over myself and get on with the task at hand. My final selections were reasonable ones. I grabbed a small take-out container of both hummus and egg salad and consumed both in section of the store set aside for folks wanting to have a bite to eat before leaving the store. I bought a container of peanut butter to take home and thought long and hard about where I might be keeping it once at home given Evan's peanut allergy.
I am preoccupied this vacation with all things market related. We're talking about the financial markets and not food markets for a change. Two of my favorite subjects truth be told. I understand the underpinnings of neither particularly well but both are all consuming and of intense interest to me. I wish I knew more about the financial side of things and wonder whether I will ever grasp even the basics or anything more than watching things go up and down day in and day out. That is an oversimplification to be sure but when I hear and see things about currency devaluations and derivatives it confuses me and at the same time challenges me to better understand what it all means. I want to be in the trenches with the big boys; in the trading pits surrounded by ticker tape and pencil necked geeks with asian surnames. That's not a slight against Asians; it is a truism that they are better equipped and better educated in the ways of such things so who do you want on your team at the end of the day? That, my friend, is a rhetorical question. And where do you start to get the kind of education you need to do battle in the pits? Soon, I will have the kind of time I need to answer such questions so not to worry. I will go into the fray with my eyes wide open and that will be that. I can only hope that this will all be for the better but I think time will be the final judge. And so it goes. Hopefully.
It's not crazy busy around me which is good. The fewer distractions the better. I'm trying very hard to get on track and find the elusive groove that I know is there for the taking if I can only get there. Sometimes it's the subject matter and sometimes it's the fodder of the day and sometimes both of those things intersect at odd angles making for a tsunami or torrent that takes on a life of its own and makes sitting down with my journal a pleasure unto itself. When it doesn't work it is nothing more than a whack job. A waste of time. A walk down the primrose path without a destination where the the flowers look and smell nice along the way but ultimately goes nowhere and has little residual b=value after the fact. Funny thing is, I never quite know which I'm going to find when I start out. It's better that way. Serendipitous almost if that makes sense.
Industry goes on around me and I'm reminded that it is a work day here in the city on the shores of Lake Champlain. The trash still needs to be collected; coffee needs to be served; stores need to open their doors; pedestrians need to find their way along the corridors of life; the homeless need to find refuge wherever possible; there is just seemingly less of everything given the persistent and cold rain falling out of doors. Had I been sitting here some 20 years ago I might see fewer laptops, fewer electronic devices, more conversation and less social isolation in general. I don't have earbuds in my ears, a laptop in front of me, or even a smart phone beside me but I am plugged in. Make no mistake about that. Nancy is back at the hotel doing what I'm not sure. I sent her a text when I arrived but she has not texted me back. I am better left to my own devices in the early morning so go off on my own and do what I do. It is coming up on 10 in the morning so I should give some thought to heading back to the hotel. I spent far too much time reading articles on my iPad before getting started here so all in all I might regret not having gotten started sooner. Then again, maybe not.
It is a pleasant rain falling out of doors really. Not heavy enough where you worry about getting drenched in the short term and not much wind to speak of that would surely be problematic were I to be outside for a longer stretch of time. And it is not so cold that even the slightest rain would add to my misery were I given to such misery. I don't think we'll make reservations at the hotel restaurant tonight even though the menu had some very appealing items on it. Nancy will likely have her sights set on some other destination and I will follow like the dutiful husband that I am. It is her preferences that matter after all these years although she is occasionally short on suggestions and is a willing partner when I have a suggestion or two. You have to know when to throw in the towel and when to take the reins and it is not a science but an art. The art of give and take; the art of nothingness.
But today is a new day. Still in Burlington and still sipping the swill in the local coffee shop. Still wanting to get something down on paper and still wondering where the day is going. I can feel that stupid breakfast sandwich sitting in my stomach even though I ate it an hour ago or more. Need to stay with the healthy choices. Yesterday, it was two hard boiled eggs and today some breakfast sandwich with egg and sausage. I thought for a moment that I might be able to strip away the bread but everything was so molten that I didn't give it a second thought. But my coffee is hot and I seem to be finding my stride at this early hour of 7 something. Nancy is back at the hotel and probably still in bed but maybe thinking about getting up and getting some exercise before we check out by noon. I say by noon instead of at noon since we're wanting to get going early on so we can get back home at a reasonable hour. There are taxes to finish and Nancy has notes to take care of for work so that's fine. I'm hoping to get home in time to take a bike ride before dark. Don't anticipate any problems doing that short of an air strike by the Russians or a problem with my bike. That sandwich is just sitting there. I can feel it. I don't like that feeling. Need to work that feeling off somehow and don't know how I do that sitting here for an extended period of time. Just don't know how I get that done.
Need to drink this coffee before it goes cold on me. And now I have a couple of weeks left to work and that's it. I'm done with that career. Moving on as it were. To what I guess we'll see. When you think of all the things a man can do with his free time it's a little overwhelming and maybe that is part of the problem. It's that whole analysis paralysis thing. Or maybe I'll just spend my spare time going fishing. Fuck this screwy world of ours. How will I function in a world without schedules, a world without oversight, a world where my days are my own and not belonging to anyone else. Don't want to get too carried away with that since I am a married man with all the normal constraints suggested or otherwise implicit in that sort of arrangement but still. You know where I'm going with all of this. Or, like me, you don't know exactly. Maybe that is what I find so alluring and at the same time terrifying. Maybe I will just do the Forrest Gump bullshit. Life is nothing more than a box of chocolates. Really? Not sure why there isn't more of a crowd here at Starbucks. It might have something to do with the fact that we're in a shopping area that doesn't open up in any meaningful way for another hour or so.
Before getting started in this here journal I was reading some article in Twitter about Bernie Sanders wife. Great. Another fucking community organizer. I'm sitting in her backyard here in Burlington Vermont even though she and her socialist husband of hers grew up in Flatbush in the Bronx. How the locals here in Vermont bought into their bullshit progressive politics all those years ago I don't know. It doesn't say anything good about the Prius driving morons in this section of the woods who elected him to Congress and, more recently, the Senate. who are all these stupid fucks? Do they really hate the establishment that much that they would look to destroy the very system that allows them to feed the poor and house their sorry asses in housing that they could never otherwise afford given their natural predilection for feeding at the public trough? They want to be one with the privileged classes and hope that the morons that attend their rallies and cheer them on will pick up the freight at the end of the day. I can't say that it won't or can't happen since Obama has proven me wrong on two separate occasions going back to 2008. Don't get me going.
The music plays on here in my tiny little corner of the coffee shop and the good folks of Burlington and beyond filter in while I type away and ignore the lot of them. The sun is out today and I would say unequivocally that it is a welcome sight. It was a drab rainy and overcast day yesterday and today not so much. I will be sorry to leave this nub of the woods. It has allowed me to get away, get a much needed change of scenery, time to think about other things. Time to write and let my imagination wander. Time to forget little and not-so-little things back at home. People outside the shop here are walking their dogs, drinking their morning coffee, wearing shorts and hoodies not wanting to let go of the summer days yet embracing the fall season as crisp, delightful, and decadent as it can be here in Burlington, Vermont. I even had a Macintosh apple the other day which I actually enjoyed and I am not much of a fan of the Macintosh apple. I'm more of a Mutsu man which is a cross between a granny smith and and golden delicious apple. Yes, I want to get grab a few of those before the season comes to an end. They are at their best after the first frost and I'm not sure we've been there yet. I say that with a snicker since I was reading last night about snow falling in the White Mountains just south of here an hour or two. I was also looking at real estate on Lake Champlain on the web as I lie in bed in the dark just before 6 this morning. File that under "one never knows."
I'm feeling constrained this morning not so much by time or things to say but rather by my physical ability to pound away at this here keyboard for an extended period of time. I'm wondering if things would be any better were I able to go to all the restaurants, all the shops, and visit all the off the beaten path type joints hereabouts. Would I feel any better if I'd seen it all and had little or no desire to revisit one or more of the places ever again. Would I want to come here again? Is it all about conquering and experiencing the satisfaction of conquering or is there more to it? Maybe it's the vibe, the soul of the place, the rhythms you achieve that make it seem so real and worthwhile. It's not the people since I never speak to any of them. Why bother. I'm in my own little world and I like it just fine. Ask me if I feel the same way in another 10 minutes and I might have a very different answer for you. Get yourself some direction, Johnny boy. A man needs a purpose and you off all people need a purpose. It's true.
So I look forward to reinventing myself and we'll see where that takes us. Hopefully, to Burlington and beyond. Where are all the cheerleaders when I need them? Someone or other to egg me on. Someone to redirect my energies when they flail or to support me when I need that or more. Like the child climbing on the rock just outside the window here in Starbucks, I need to know that I can slide down the rock until my feet touch even though I don't know how far that is or how much pain I might have to endure just to find out if it's possible. And then your feet are on the ground and the world has not come to an end. You are reminded of that saying, all is well that ends well and you start looking around you for other rocks, bigger rocks, steeper rocks, more jagged rocks, rocks you can't get a grip on, and then you know that all things are possible.
Lake George Vacation 2015
13/September/2015 07:06 AM
Tuesday, the day after labor day 2015. I'm sitting here in Starbucks having a nice hot cup of coffee. Really need it. I stayed up a bit later than usual last night watching Netflix on m pad. Couldn't get the tv to work no matter which buttons I pressed. It wouldn't have been so bad had I not been alone at the place at the lake. Nancy went home yesterday to pick up Evan and bring him back to the lake after his class at Great Bay. I might have gone with her but he came down with a little something so it will be a full court press to get him back to the lake house within 24 hours. I'm not convinced that he wants to come up but I could be wrong. Nancy was willing to make the trip alone so that was that. I called her once she arrived and the trip had gone well. There had been no unexpected surprises and the traffic was not a problem. You know how Labor Day weekends go sometimes. Anyway, good to know she was home safely.
Nancy's sister, Debbie, and her boyfriend Willie, arrived on Sunday and left on Monday around noon or a bit after. We took in the usual sights including Sandy Bay, San Souci, and the sights and sounds of Lake George Village. There is a story to be told for each of those destinations so maybe I'll get there here today and maybe I won't. Suffice it to say that the water was fine, the spots in Sandy Bay elusive but available, the food at San Souci was not bad at all, and the village came with its own surprises. The biggest surprise there was the number of people cruising the streets and the ethnic and racial diversity of same. I was telling Rollie that the crowds of days past were 85% Canadian and 15% Warrensburg and those days are gone. As long as we continue to have a lawless president in the White House who insists on open borders and the purge of Christians we will be at risk for losing the heart and soul of our nation.
After sitting in the boat for a while on Sandy Bay and watching Nancy and her sister, Debbie, swim off towards the shore I decided it was time for me to go in as well and I left Willie to his own devices. A woman bumping around the bay in a kayak approached Willie when the three of us were off galavanting near the shore and asked if he was Woody (aka Rollie.) Too funny. Can't remember how that conversation went but Willie told it in a way that made us all laugh. I think the woman heard what Willie said about not being Rollie, knew in her heart that the man who said he wasn't Rollie was surely sitting in Rollie's boat, and decided to call him on it. "That's Rollie's boat", she said matter of factly. Maybe she gave up after that. Maybe she thought she had said enough but not too much and that it was a good time to end the conversation. She may have paddled off looking once or maybe twice over her shoulder not comfortable with how the conversation ended and the best course of action was to put as much distance between her and the man in Rollie's boat who said he wasn't Rollie as possible.
He didn't look like the kind of man who would follow her but she wasn't taking any chances. The bay was choking with activity and an unlikely place as one can imagine for a criminal act but she knew all too well that there were plenty of ways to die when and where nobody would be the wiser. If the man who said he wasn't Rollie was in fact not Rollie, but driving Rollie's boat, then he was certainly capable of much much more. Nothing sinister necessarily but she wasn't taking any chances. We never saw the woman Wille referred too so didn't know what had become of her. His descriptions were vague but not alarmingly so. We had no reason to be suspicious so laughed aloud when he told us the story in no more than two or three sentences. Two or three well thought out and crafted sentences that is retrospect ended too abruptly. It was laughter intended to deceive and we fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I thought to myself that it could have just as easily been me who had that conversation and maybe it ended well and maybe it didn't. Unlike Willie, I would have kept the encounter to myself. No need to leave a trail of any kind to raise suspicions when and where the specter of possible crime was involved. Drownings are all too common in this lake and they nearly go unreported except that they serve as a reminder to visitors near and far that the lake, while benevolent in its beauty and attraction, has a history of taking lives. One can never be too careful so it is best not to ask too many questions of people you think you know driving boats that as far as you know don't belong to them.
We had a nice ride on the lake heading north out of Sandy Bay with Elizabeth Island as our destination and kept going once we arrived at the island. The water was as choppy as it gets this time of the year with a roughness created by the horrendous cross currents of waves in the widest part of the lake that were akin to what they refer to as a perfect storm in North Atlantic lore. The winds were blowing out of the south enough to stiffen a flag but without the oomph to create white caps in the widest section of the lake. It was a sunny warm afternoon and the drone of the boat engine was ever present as we pushed past Camp Chingacook and points north where camps along the shoreline disappeared and vast sections of the Adirondack reserve rose thousands of feet from shore to mountain top. When we had had enough of dodging rogue waves we turned southward once again and hugged the coastline where the waters were less chaotic. Once back at the camp and after docking we noticed a slick of sorts forming at the rear of the boat. It took a while to sort out but by the time the next morning rolled around we were all feeling a little better about something that ended up, we think, being far less serious than maybe it could have been.
San Souci was busy as expected but we drove there nonetheless hoping against hope that we would both find a place to park and something of our liking to eat. Parking was the bigger of the two hurdles but a space opened up the minute we arrived and not a minute too soon since we were joined by others who we saw milling about outside the restaurant as we arrived. I was surprised that the restaurant was not busier and I think a little surprised that it was as noisy as it was for the few parties that were seated when we walked in. We had no problems finding something to eat both on the menu and on the specials board so ordered as quickly as possible so as to not to lose our seemingly positive momentum. It helped that our waitress was both attentive and easy on the eyes. She was equally vivacious and she may have notched our collective energies up just enough to get us past the noise and other distractions in what was probably standard fare at this long standing neighborhood haunt. And Nancy, true to form, took a liking to my coffee drink and despite my moving it here and there around the table to get it out of her line of sight she found it every time and sipped away at her hearts content. I rationalize times like this by telling myself that were I to drink the beverage as ordered that I would be perhaps unable or unwilling to drive having consumed far more alcohol than is usual for me. Far more indeed.
Rollie joined us on Monday and we looked at his boat together so that was good. After Debbie and Willie had left he stayed the afternoon and we chatted about everything under the sun. He played a tape recording that my father had made of a conversation he and I had in 1990. Did I know he was recording that conversation? It was benign as conversations go but funny nonetheless to hear my 1990 voice and perhaps more interestingly to hear my dad's voice again. It was really nice to hear his voice. God, Rollie and I kicked around a lot of things. That boy has a history floating around in his head that he really ought to get down on paper when he has a spare moment. I think our sister Kathy has a good recollection of things as well but her recollections are occasionally suspect and maybe even self serving from time to time. Memories fade but memories twisted and contorted to serve their masters desires and dreams live on as though etched in cement for eternity. I'm one to talk. I write it all down, well almost all of it, and put my own spin on events when and where the normal flow of events don't suit me. In other words, I make it up as I go along. Rollie and I talked a lot about uncle Karl as well and his relationship with dad which was nonexistent toward the end of Karl's life according to Rollie. As one might expect, the bad blood arose out of the supposed mismanagement of money and perhaps even a lawsuit about same. You just can't make this stuff up!
I keep putting this down and picking it up again. Can't remember what I've written and maybe don't care. Maybe I'll say it again but differently the second time around. I have to say that driving the 350Z that Rollie let me have for the week has been a little weird. It has an altogether different vibe that takes some getting used to. It isn't so much about how I feel driving it because you know that is going to be different compared to driving my 2000 Volvo station wagon. More noticeable than that is how other drivers respond when they come up on me in traffic, on the highway, etc. Just yesterday, for example, I was tooling down the road minding my own business (tell me if you've heard this story before) and I noticed that the vehicle behind me was tailing me in an odd sort of way. They were a little closer than they should have been and it wasn't any coincidence that they looked to be younger drivers. The fact that I could tell at all was not a good thing. It felt aggressive and testosterone driven. Responding in kind would have been irresponsible and reckless and I was not in any hurry to facilitate or otherwise encourage that sort of train wreck. True to form, they waited until we had rounded the bend and passed me with room to spare on the straightaway. I was happy to let them have their moment but the fact of the matter is that this never would have happened in my other more staid vehicle. I don't know if I want that kind of responsibility. Something to think about.
Looks like another nice day on the lake her in Lake George. Nancy and Evan arrived last night a little after 9. I'm glad they made the trip. Nancy drove home on Monday to pick up Evan after his class at Great Bay on Tuesday morning and promised a hasty return. The class never worked out, Evan was down and out with some asthma related illness, and they had a late day doctors appointment to make before getting on the road. They survived all of that and made the long trip back here despite the fact that Nancy was not keen on making any portion of the drive in the dark. It was unavoidable of course but she was clearly in the home stretch by the time darkness fell so perhaps not an issue. She looked none the worse for wear upon her arrival and Evan seemed better than I expected which was good. He coughed a couple of times as he got out of the car and mostly for effect I think. I stopped by Dirty John's earlier in the evening and bought three dogs for Evan which I microwaved when he arrived. I had a nice greek salad with chicken which I enjoyed when I sat down to have dinner well before their arrival. I spent a while tidying up the kitchen so that everything was in its proper place by the time Nancy and Evan arrived and all was well with the world. It was not an overly cool evening but neither was it oppressively warm and it is now just 69 degrees but is expected to reach the low 80's by late this afternoon. Just what the doctor ordered.
I always feel good when I stick to my usual biking routines while on vacation. There is something about just getting on the bike and doing it and maybe getting it behind you that resonates with me. Not doing it is akin to carrying unnecessary baggage so better to get it done. I'd like to say that is has something to do with the endorphin fix that athletes get when getting in a particular zone but I'm not sure that applies to me. Then again, I do think that I am a bit of a daredevil here and there and I take chances that others might consider risky. I think I like living on edge truth be told. So, it has less to do with endorphins and more to do with the thrill of taking chances. Speeding down hills at a breakneck pace with faulty brakes; not looking twice before crossing lanes with crushing and unpredictable traffic patterns; pushing myself up impossibly steep and elongated inclines until my heart is jumping out of my chest; and smirking to myself when drivers on the road, surprised by my crazy antics, lay on the horn with irritation and surprise. People do funny things when reacting to the unexpected. I would have been a formidable candidate with a rap sheet for a resume' had I sought employment as a bicycle courier in an inner city like Boston or New York. I would ride with the best of them and better than most. Don't know where that comes from. I always thought it had something to do with being more competitive than most but am rethinking that now. I fear it is something infinitely more sinister. We need not go there now.
I can hear the family stirring. This house if nothing if not a collection of wood aged and assembled with love and care. Every step taken by one or more of its occupants reveals direction, presence, and sometimes even resistance. The wooden floors creak with annoyance and thunder with a premeditated allowance for tomfoolery as traffic passes from room to room and in and out of the house over the course of the day. Wood used in the construction of this home on the lake still retains its original character and shape and each room has a different story to tell. The patterns of wood when laid down collide in unnatural ways but feel natural underfoot and provide just the right acoustics for voices heard and unheard. Waves caused by passing boats of varying sizes and shapes wash ashore just feet away from the front of the home resonating with a sound eerily like applause and carry through the house channeled by the open doorways. It is easy to take these sounds for granted. They are ever present and easily assimilate into ones comings and goings. Maybe this is what happens when the house welcomes back old friends and those who would protect and preserve it for future generations. Maybe it isn't applause at all. It is the collective sigh of a home with a soul coexisting in a harsh but otherwise loving environment.
What a difference a day makes. The high here today on the lake, if you consider it a high, is 71 degrees. The only good thing about 71 degrees is that it makes drinking my coffee that much more pleasurable. This is a far cry from the high temperatures of the last day or two which felt somewhat oppressive but perhaps less so here on the lake where the flow of air is constant and cooling. And, I think these cooler temperatures might be better all around for our biking activities wherever that takes us today. And, taking the family for a ride in the 350Z with the top down while overcast is preferable to doing that under cloudless skies. The sun can be overbearing and relentless sometimes and it gets to be too much. It is surprising to think as well that we've been here since Sunday and we have only been out in the boat once and that was four days ago as I sit here on the screened in porch overlooking the lake on a very overcast and cool Thursday morning. Granted, Evan has only been here since yesterday but it seems we found other things to do yesterday so we did not do any boating. And what about Saratoga? It is true that what I usually do when we visit that lovely town is to camp out in the local Starbucks with my iPad while Nancy goes shopping. I'm down (good) with that.
Outside this idyllic encampment, the world continues on it's merry or not so merry way. Financial markets around the world are topsy turvy as ever and feeling the pain of decelerating commodity values and devalued asset classes no longer buoyed by long stretches of quantitative easing; Ted Cruz and Donald Trump, two of the top tier presidential candidates for 2016, held a rally on the steps of the US capitol yesterday calling for the defeat of the process that will invariably give Iran the means to build a nuclear arsenal and further imperil the state of Israel and those who have opposed them over the years including the United States; Hundreds of thousands of Syrians are fleeing that war torn country while adjoining countries build walls and fortify their borders to keep their own populations and cultures from imploding under the collective weight of this immigration nightmare; Apple announced new versions of their Apple TV, the iPhone 6, the iPad Pro and the markets responded in ho-hum fashion by sending their stock down another 2 percent; Gas prices have come down and now average around $2.30 a gallon as crude oil seemingly bottoms out at around $42 a barrel; Hillary Clinton remains the likely nominee for her party but the coronation is on hold while the party gnashes their teeth over her plummeting poll numbers when it comes to trustworthy-ness and honesty - in the meantime, Joe Biden contemplates getting into the race and would likely quash yet another Clinton run at the highest office in the land; The impeachment of Obama is imminent and his collaboration with the Muslim brother hood and his alliances with countries and ideologies that call for the defeat of our great country run counter to the oath of office he took as he placed his hand on the Quran while repeating the oath. These laws, once broken, are punishable by death.
It was a good vacation on the lake this year by all accounts. We had just the right mix of weather, friends and family, and exercise. Next year maybe we'll stay longer than the one week we usually plan for. With any luck that will give us more time to see and spend time with family, more opportunity to do the things we like to do, and more time to enjoy the lake. I should like to revisit the new coffee joint in downtown Glens Falls and have another cup of their delicious java. And no, they don't have a coffee of the day. I'll have to remember that before bellying up the counter and making a fool of myself by asking such a question. They probably thought to themselves, what rock has this bozo been living under? Maybe he would prefer something from Dunkin Donuts, or worse if there is such a thing. Honey Bee Donuts maybe? And, we don't have a fucking drive in window so don't ask.
We never did get over to the cemetery so I regret not getting around to that. Rollie wanted to take a minute to go there on our last day at the lake and we had that conversation while we were sitting in our car packed up and ready for the long trip home in New Way Lunch's parking lot. It was too late and our long trip home ;ay ahead of us so we were not wanting to be unduly delayed or distracted from our task at hand. Fact of the matter is, ain't nobody over there at the cemetary going anywhere any time soon so our visit can wait. We also never got over to Lake George Village while the car show was in town. We we're close when doing the biking trail and the skies were overcast so it was perfect for picture taking but we just didn't do it. Never saw Lise or Kathy either despite our best intentions to do just that. We spent a bit of time with Denise not long ago so had no plans to get together with her other than the plans we usually have while in the are which is to take the sisters out for lunch or dinner. Also never saw Rollie's family but spent time with Rollie so was not completely in the dark on matters involving Terri and Carli. Neither did they see Evan so that was that.
Thanks to everyone who made this vacation possible, with a special thanks to Rollie for providing both a boat and a car which proved invaluable (and fun!) while Nancy was was away in New Hampshire picking up Evan.
Idle Thoughts
15/August/2015 07:15 AM
…Listening to Amy Winehouse unplugged. Been up for a while this morning. Since the crack of dawn really. Turned over in bed while it was still dark and a little after 4:30 in the morning. Grabbed my iPad and started reading the latest twitter feed. What is all of this business about entire populations fleeing war torn countries and inundating Europe arriving day after day by the thousands? And then I'm reading somewhere yesterday that our government is shipping refugees from Somalia, Ghana, and other hellholes on this planet to the fine state of North Dakota. And where did I read that in New York or California, or maybe this was in Massachusetts that they are creating all Spanish speaking classrooms for the illegal aliens that continue to turn up in numbers unparalleled in recent history thanks to the immigration policies of our commander-in-chief, Barry Obama. In the upcoming election I'm voting for the first republican candidate who promises to overturn every one of Barry's illegal executive orders. If he or she promises to prosecute Barry and his entourage of criminals occupying our white house I might even vote twice for that candidate.
Just call me Mr. Compassion.
Back in the Hood
14/August/2015 08:13 AM
As a postscript to an otherwise terrific trip up through Stowe, Vt, and then on to Burlington, and then down through Middlebury, Vt where we hooked up with Denise for a little lunch, I would say it went well. The weather cooperated, the hotels were accommodating, we could have done a better job making reservations around the Burlington leg of the trip, there were no shortage of decent places to grab a bite to eat, and I could always find a Starbucks when I needed one. That is to say, my itinerary always includes spending time writing in my journal (blog) in the early morning and my favorite haunt and place to write is Starbucks. The good news is that seldom do I find myself in a spot where there is not a Starbucks or, at a minimum, a place that comes off as a Starbucks wanna be. That means a place where the coffee is pitch black, seating is accommodating, and some kind of music playing in the background always helps.
Lunch with Denise came out of the blue. In other words, it was not planned. I think it was Nancy who said something about being in Middlebury around lunchtime as we were heading south through Vt. Putting two and two together, we gave Denise a ring and, voila, she answered. She met us in downtown Middlebury shortly before the noon hour where there were any number of places to grab lunch and after stopping in a place or two we ended up with a recommendation to yet one more place which is where we ended up. It was one of those order at the counter and take your food to an empty table kind of places. The three of us had salads and Saratoga spring waters to drink. We sat under a canopy of sorts outside the shop and enjoyed some very pleasant conversation about this and that. It was about family mostly and it was good to hear all was going well with everyone. We talked a bit about our upcoming trip to the lake as well and I should have talked to Denise about getting together with the sisters for dinner sometime during the week but forgot to mention it. I'll try to follow up with her on same. Maybe making dinner at the camp is a better idea? What would I make? Would I have to please everybody? Maybe we can make it a pot luck sort of thing.
It's fun having a week off. Yes, indeed. A week to do whatever I or we please within reason. Not sure what that means but it feels right saying it. I really should have created a to-do list. I wanted to wash some windows, do a little maintenance on the snow blower, run the generator, etc., but I've not worried about not getting to those things. And now that the week is coming to an end, and I still have three days before I return to work, the monkeys are off my back and I can do whatever I damn well please. If I want to go for a bike ride instead, and I surely do and will once I finish writing in this here blog, I will do just that. Nancy has gone off to her cycling class so I am on my own and sometimes prefer that when riding. I'm not constantly looking over my shoulder to see where she is and then worrying when I don't see her. Did she get a flat? Maybe she fell after running over or into something. Maybe a car clipped her or ran her off onto the side of the road and she is sitting there with bent rims and hurt feelings. You just don't know so can't assume anything. Of course, I never tell her I prefer riding alone. How do you think that would make her feel? Off I go then before I lose the window I'm wanting to take advantage of. Before the sun gets too high in the sky, the crowds along my path too dense and too boisterous, and the winds picking up as they do here along the coast come midday.
Burlington by way of Stowe VT
09/August/2015 07:22 AM
Buenos dias, laddies. It's a fine morning here in Stow VT. Kick ass, really. Don't know about this coffee joint but it sure helps to have some caffeine. It was Nancy's idea to come to Stow but I'm good with going to places we've never been before. It's small, quaint, and well, as they say maybe a little to often here in Vermont, bucolic. Oh, and it's foggy. We're hoping to get some biking in today before the day gets too long in the tooth so I'm looking forward to that. I was a little disappointed that they only had egg sandwiches in this place. I was hoping for some quiche. Yes, a real manly breakfast. Just trying to stay away from the bread. I think gluten may not be the friend I was looking for all these years. The more I hear about people trying to avoid it it makes me wonder if it isn't something worth avoiding. And there are those days you are just looking to put something in your stomach. This might be one of those days. Nonetheless, I'll stay away from the bread given half a chance.
People are filing into this place at a pretty good clip now as the hour gets closer to 8. The village is waking up I guess. Where are all the farmers? The fisherman? The breakfast cooks? The beauticians? And, where are all the fucking Vietnamese nail buffers? I may be two cups of coffee into my morning before I start seeing them. I'm wondering about this trail we're supposed to be riding on today too. Is it too long? Is it long enough? Is it too busy? Does it overlook anything of interest? Will I get a flat tire? Stay positive, Johnny. The day is long and it is all in front of you. Better than that, and honest to god let's get with the program, your week is ahead of you. You have no meetings and no conference calls. No taking your laptop into the nearest huddle room to catch a tier two anything. I love the people but the process is tedious. So, I put all of that behind me this week and I get to think about things I want to think about. World hunger; trading derivatives; world markets; books I have but haven't yet read; music that hasn't been written; Paths that haven't been travelled; fishing spots that haven't been fished; am I forgetting anything?
This is such a nice little spot. I'm seated at a window table, one of two in this place, and I'm left wondering when Starbucks is coming to town and just how long this place will stay in business once that happens. Looking out over the town from my seat, the fog is burning off slowly revealing more and more of the distant pastures with every sip of my coffee. I think all of the fog may yet burn off and it could be a steamy day. That's okay, right? I mean, does it really matter? I'm not one to obsess about such things when alternatives abound. There are 81 restaurants in Stowe. Who knew. Just walking to this coffee shop I think I passed 5 of them. Where the fuck are all the rest? Turns out we ate at one of the best last night. Oh, and you're a bloody restaurant critic now, are you? All I would say is that while we had a moments hesitation when we were told that they couldn't accommodate us without a reservation we got over ourselves fairly quickly and took a seat at the mahogany horseshoe shaped bar where we decided that it was someplace we could probably eat and be okay with it.
I ordered steamed mussels in some kind of cream sauce served with a hot roll and topped with some kind of gritty concoction which is hard to describe but was quite good. Sometimes you're just thankful that food that should be served hot is served as advertised and this was. The bar itself was in the basement of a building in downtown Stowe but looked like it had been a bar for well over a hundred years and maybe more. Seating and spacing was not generous by any stretch of the imagination but that may have been part and parcel the pubs allure. It was a small space and you couldn't navigate the aisles without turning one or more parts of your body to the side or stopping altogether to let someone to pass. I order a stir fry as well and hoped for less rice and or pasta and more vegetables. The serving size was surprisingly small but sufficient nonetheless and I was satisfied that I had ordered the right dish. Nancy ordered shrimp tacos and the shrimp were halved and braised on one side and very flavorful. I'm not a big fan of fish, shrimp, or other types of tacos but I had one shrimp off her plate and took what she didn't eat back to the hotel for a snack later that evening. We both ordered drinks and were both fairly intoxicated and unsteady on our feet after having just one beverage. As we got up to leave, the stairs leading up and out of the place seemed steeper than we remembered them coming in. Thank god for handrails.
I've seen and heard a few cars going through town that sported very loud mufflers. Either the rules around here when it comes to this sort of thing are extremely lax or there are more than a few vehicles that will more than likely not pass inspection when the time comes. And the locals? An earthy bunch to be sure. You can tell by the way they dress. Birkenstocks and bell bottoms. And the music? It's a throw back from the 70's wherever you go. Were it not for certain things in and about town I would say that this is a town that has been forgotten by time. Don't get me wrong. I like Creedence Clearwater, Led Zeppelin, and others from back in the 70's. And this watering hole, as I understand it, is an extremely popular place to frequent especially in the winter. It is a veritable skiers paradise and most of the growth over the last number of years has been due to that interest. Not entirely a bad thing I suppose. It is, no doubt, a small price to pay in order to survive the winter months in this mountain enclave.
I don't know that we'll be getting our bike ride in today due to the rain. It's not raining hard but it is raining so Nancy may not want to go. I would go but certainly not if it starts raining any harder than it is now. I'm looking out the window here at the cafe and see umbrellas and windshield wipers so that should tell you something. In a way, taking biking off the table frees up time from our schedule to do other things before we check out so I think I'm ok with the rain. I might like to stay here at my little table near the window and put a bit more down on "paper." Maybe not. Maybe I just want to sit down and have a leisurely breakfast, an omelet or something. Maybe I just want to sip my coffee rather than chugging it just to move the day along. Vacations mean slowing down, not speeding up. When your destination is the town that time forgot you should take note and live in the moment no matter how long that moment takes.
It was good that we took the car last night and drove on the highway leading out of town in an effort to find a place to have dinner. It felt good to be in the car again for some odd reason. It felt good to roll down the windows and let the air circulate around us cooling things down and putting a stop to the humidity that was ever present but not overly oppressive. It just kind of wears you down so better to change things up and that is what we did. I think Nancy was a little tired from all of her kicking around town and as much as she enjoyed doing what she was doing it was good for her to change it up as well. We pulled in to a parking lot at a restaurant called "The Bench" where we got the last parking spot. We took that as a good sign. The more popular the place, the better the food and drink, the livelier the atmosphere, the better. Right?
That turned out to be true for the most part. The place was spacious and as bustling as the parking situation suggested and we were promptly seated at a pleasant table in a corner where the light was nice, the view was good from at least one of the seats (Nancy's), and our waitress was efficient but not overly self effacing. It was one of those places built around a wood burning oven and most but not all items on the menu were pizza related. Or, do they call it flatbread these days. I ordered the mussels and they too were cooked in the oven. The mussels were served in a small cast iron skillet and came steeped in a tomato based broth that reminded me a little bit of spaghetti sauce. While that didn't thrill me I could have just as easily had the sauce on pasta and would have found that to be acceptable meal. There were just enough mussels to satisfy me before the main course was served so I was happy, how do they say, as a clam. Nancy did not get an appetizer and she is not a fan of mussels so sharing was not necessary. We sipped our soda waters till the entrees were served and had a jolly good time taking in the sights and enjoying our time together. When the salads arrived, hers topped with chicken and mine with ahi tuna, we busied ourselves with the task at hand. All in all, a decent meal with only a minor indiscretion here and there which we happily ignored. Who serves salads without tomatoes?
We told Evan that we might be coming home a day earlier when talking to him on the phone last night. He was not pleased. We were just jawboning about going to Burlington or not going to Burlington depending on the weather and that was one of the options. Who wants to go to Burlington if the rain keeps us from enjoying the sights and sounds of one of our favorite destinations? Nancy was certainly not deterred and as I sit here this morning I'm thinking as well that rain or no rain going to Burlington was not a bad idea. We're taking this trip as a dry run to a larger trip coming soon so we might as well take advantage of the opportunity. Besides, what would we be doing at home in the rain that we can't do just as easily in Burlington?
One of the comments we saw in trip advisor, as it relates to this watering hole of a town, is that flies are a problem. Not sure what that is all about but I can tell you firsthand that we've seen them here and about town from the moment we stepped into town. We've not stayed at outdoor cafes just to avoid them. Even here at the cafe, at the early hour of 7, I was seated for no more than a minute when I had a little visitor. Just go away! We're not talking about those big bad boys or even green heads whose bites can stop you in your tracks. These are common, everyday, houseflies or so it seems. Maybe they are the kinds of flies that morph out of decay and hint of morbidity and death. A harbinger of things to come. If we're seeing them it may well be too late for us. All we can do is swat them away and hope that wherever we go that they do not follow. They are pesky little fucks so worth mentioning. Not that anyone cares or can do anything about it.
I can hear people ordering at the counter, children crying out for their parents attention, the clatter of cups and the shuffling of feet, the jostling of chairs, and the constant but pleasant banter offered by the staff as their patrons file in and out of the cafe. The door behinds me opens and closes quietly but with a telltale creek probably not worthy of someones attention. My nose is squarely to the grindstone and my head is buzzing with thoughts that may or may not ever become clear enough to get down for posterity. There is a small child seated at a nearby table. She is cute as a button and she sits quietly. Whether she is amused, bewildered, astonished, or none of those things I'll never know. She is caught up in the moment as perhaps any other child her age and that may be for the better. Her parents, I'm sure thankfully, need not cajole, mollify, or even pay attention to her in her moment of peace. Her sweet unintelligible voice fills the air from time to time reminding her caretakers that she occupies space in the universe just as they do and that she is just as if not more important than they are. She is the future after all and that has become lost in the momentous rhythms of their collective family existence. They would do well to pay her the attention she deserves for chances like this are fleeting at best. There will, no doubt, be others but none as opportune as this. Just ask her, she'll tell you.
My coffee is getting cold but that is not unexpected so I keep putting one foot in front of the other until I don't or can't. I'm wanting all of the "hands up,don't shoot" crowd in Ferguson to go away or get locked up. Grievances my ass. Get a fucking job and get off the streets. If you don't obey the cops then you go to jail. It's as simple as that. And will someone please tell Obama that the Iran deal is off the table and there will be no deal? That asshole can't get out of office fast enough for me. And yes, we want to defund Planned Parenthood and sanctuary cities since there is a rule of law and without a rule of law we're doomed as a society. Obama's reign has given rise to candidates like Trump who are no more suited to sit in the White House than its present occupant. I was awake at 4 this morning reading about Governor Mike Pence who signed a bill into law requiring that aborted fetuses deserve to be treated with dignity and respect and will forthwith be either buried or cremated once aborted. They will no longer be sold for their body parts or washed down drains by the Planned Parenthoods of the world. If you can't outlaw the very act of abortion you can at the very least provide a modicum of dignity and respect for its victims. This very subject is saddening and the rain outside is falling with greater intensity now making the world outside my own little sanctuary here in the coffee shop seem dark and foreboding.
Burlington is everything we thought it would be and more. We were here many years ago but some things never change. It is a beautiful little town that sits on the edge of Lake Champlain and is by and large a college town. Maybe tourism comes in a close second. Not sure. We hemmed and we hawed before making our way north and hour or so from Stowe due to the weather but those fears were largely allayed when the rain stopped and the skies cleared by the time we arrived in town. We knew a couple of things. We knew we wanted to grab a bite to eat and we knew we wanted to get out of the car and walk around town a bit if for no other reason than to get reacquainted with an old haunt. Well, a haunt in the sense that it was a favorite destination even though we've only been there but a handful of times. On one occasion, in fact, we drove several hours north to Burlington so we could catch a ferry to New York where we then traveled south until we ended up in Lake George. Talk about haunts. Someone recently referred to Lake George as my happy place. I had to think about that for a moment but it is, in fact, true. It also happens to be where I grew up.
We also knew we wanted to see the movie or documentary of Amy Winehouse's life so we set sail on that particular course. We made the mistake of not making hotel reservations in town so had to travel south a few miles before we could find what we considered to be suitable accommodations. You would be surprised at how flexible your requirements become when the sun sets and you are tired after a long day of activities. Had it not been for plans we made to see the movie later that evening, and our desire to see the documentary after blowing off a number of opportunities back in New Hampshire, we might well have driven the 3-4 hours it was going to take to get back home. I was up to the drive and getting a little tired of all of the nonsense we ran into while looking for a place for the night. How is it that every time we got on the phone with someone to ask about reservations we ended up talking a person in Southeast Asia who couldn't understand us when said the word "Burlington." That's "B" as in boy. They were quite clear about there being no availability so that was a good thing. Time to get off the phone and continue our search. Thanks for nothing.
We had lunch at Mirabelle's in Burlington. Maybe I order chef salads because of the variability in how they are assembled. Maybe I like them because they combine salad with a bunch of other things that pass for protein and protein is a good thing. Only four dressings on the menu? What is that all about? I opted for the sesame ginger because everything else seem to have a cream base and I was wanting to do without something creamy and glutenous. The cafe was lively with families, couples, students, professors and the like. There were a couple of fuddy duddies sitting within earshot of us reading their students papers off their cell phones and comparing notes as though they were the only patrons in the place. A big mistake in my humble opinion. What if I recognized my son's writing and heard them saying nasty things about his writing style or, worse yet, his ability to complete a sentence using the english language. How intolerant would I be? Would I let on that I thought he was a nitwit and that commenting on someone's writing in a public place was an asinine thing to do? Who knows.
Nancy, for whatever reason, had a more resilient memory of the things we did back in Burlington back in the day. She kept asking me if I remembered this or remembered that and I kept drawing blanks. Some things I remembered very well but other things not so much. I was a little surprised at the things she remembered and wondered if I should have retained the same memories or were these things she experienced and I did not? Worse yet, were these things that the two of us experienced and now only one of us remembers? I do think that there is such a thing as retaining things that have no value and I would dismiss that as time not well spent. I would go so far as to say that I would make an extra effort to not do that and would encourage anyone who is willing to listen to do the same thing. Maybe I should take more pictures and I could refer to them under the cover of darkness the next time she asks down the road. I thought for a moment that I might make something up just to stump her so I wasn't the only one experiencing pre-alzheimers. Thank god for GPS is all I have to say. What I forget, it remembers. Or, it figures it out while I'm still scratching my chinny-chin-chin.
I was so trying to be good last night when we waltzed into the city market after the show around 10:30 and for the most part I succeeded. I wanted to avoid eating garbage before bedtime but thought that something, a small something, a snack of miniscule proportions might be just what the doctor ordered. The place was a busy even at the late hour of 10:30 and I went with the hustle bustle and allowed it take me where it would until I found myself in a good place. I avoided the pastries, the quick meals packaged for folks on the go, the ten-piece sushi dishes that would have been fine were it not for the rice that I wanted to avoid, and frozen food section which was for people more patient than I and with infinitely more time on their hands.
It was raining quite hard when we left the theater but it had stopped by the time we reached the market that was close by. I managed to have a slightly soggy shirt which quickly chilled when I entered the market. I felt almost hypothermic and sought out the warm exhaust emanating from one or more of the refrigeration chests where I took refuge for seconds at a time while considering my next move. Nancy was well on her way to other areas in the store and had left me to my own devices which was fine. I just needed to get over myself and get on with the task at hand. My final selections were reasonable ones. I grabbed a small take-out container of both hummus and egg salad and consumed both in section of the store set aside for folks wanting to have a bite to eat before leaving the store. I bought a container of peanut butter to take home and thought long and hard about where I might be keeping it once at home given Evan's peanut allergy.
I am preoccupied this vacation with all things market related. We're talking about the financial markets and not food markets for a change. Two of my favorite subjects truth be told. I understand the underpinnings of neither particularly well but both are all consuming and of intense interest to me. I wish I knew more about the financial side of things and wonder whether I will ever grasp even the basics or anything more than watching things go up and down day in and day out. That is an oversimplification to be sure but when I hear and see things about currency devaluations and derivatives it confuses me and at the same time challenges me to better understand what it all means. I want to be in the trenches with the big boys; in the trading pits surrounded by ticker tape and pencil necked geeks with asian surnames. That's not a slight against Asians; it is a truism that they are better equipped and better educated in the ways of such things so who do you want on your team at the end of the day? That, my friend, is a rhetorical question. And where do you start to get the kind of education you need to do battle in the pits? Soon, I will have the kind of time I need to answer such questions so not to worry. I will go into the fray with my eyes wide open and that will be that. I can only hope that this will all be for the better but I think time will be the final judge. And so it goes. Hopefully.
Coasting is for Pussies
02/08/15 07:14
We're getting off on the backroads hereabouts when we ride our bikes and that is not only different but sometimes more fun and always more challenging. There are more hills for one. Maybe "hills" is an exaggeration. We're on the coast so how hilly can it be? But, more often than not it is the sun, the heat, the crowds, the cars, and motorcycles that push us off 1A along the ocean and on to the back roads where there are long stretches of shade and little or no traffic. It has to be cooler by a good 10 to 15 degrees and I'm always surprised that we're not surrounded by like-minded enthusiasts of one kind or another when we arrive unannounced. Granted, we get on the road early but never early enough it seems and never during the middle of the day when the sun is at its highest in the sky. So, when the sun and all else proves too much we head for the hills. I always tell Nancy that she should take advantage of the downhill stretches on those back roads to push herself even harder when she is otherwise inclined to stop pedaling and have the bike go along on its own accord. I think she gets it but I've seen little in the way of change to suggest she's wanting to go along with my suggestion so we'll leave that alone for the time being. As for me, coasting ain't my style.
Another little (or not so little) difference this year is that we've taken to sticking our feet in the ocean near the end of our ride when we turn up at the local harbor. It's a working harbor so usually fairly busy with pleasure boaters, fishing vessels, and tourists looking to expand their sight seeing horizons. The traffic has lessened considerably over the last couple of years with the implementation of crippling regulations in the fishing industry which threaten to put the commercial fisherman hereabouts completely out of business. On those days when the heat is oppressive and shade is hard to find, there is nothing more refreshing that wading into the ice cold north Atlantic waters right up to your knickers. You stay in the water until your extremities start to numb up and then move about ever so slightly just to keep the circulation in check while your core temperature returns to normal. It is immensely satisfying and something to look forward to especially on those really nasty, hot, and steamy days. Thankfully, and because we are on the ocean, there are precious few of those but when and where we find them we treat ourselves to a quick and sometimes prolonged dip knickers or no knickers.
I wish Nancy had paid a little more attention to the garden when she put it in earlier this year. She planted precious few items and in the process left certain areas go to weed and those areas now threaten to overrun the rest of the garden. I have no regrets over not having gotten more involved. I enjoy gardening but find it to be a chore if it becomes a continuous thing and back-to-back seasons qualify as continuous in my mind. And what about those oysters we had in downtown Portsmouth last night? "How do you prefer your oysters, sir," the waitress asked politely. "Do you like them briny or perhaps a little less briny?" They had several varieties on the menu so the choice was mine to make. I settled on oysters from Maine and thought to myself that the colder the water the better when and where it comes to buying and consuming farmed oysters. They served them on the half shell atop several pounds of shaved ice and with an ample side of lemon, horseradish, and cocktail sauce. I do like raw seafood so these little fellas were just what the doctor ordered. The coffee place up the street was a disappointment but that's fine since there are plenty of other shops to frequent in downtown Portsmouth. When I get a spare moment I'll talk a little more about my latest indulgence, cold brew.
Another little (or not so little) difference this year is that we've taken to sticking our feet in the ocean near the end of our ride when we turn up at the local harbor. It's a working harbor so usually fairly busy with pleasure boaters, fishing vessels, and tourists looking to expand their sight seeing horizons. The traffic has lessened considerably over the last couple of years with the implementation of crippling regulations in the fishing industry which threaten to put the commercial fisherman hereabouts completely out of business. On those days when the heat is oppressive and shade is hard to find, there is nothing more refreshing that wading into the ice cold north Atlantic waters right up to your knickers. You stay in the water until your extremities start to numb up and then move about ever so slightly just to keep the circulation in check while your core temperature returns to normal. It is immensely satisfying and something to look forward to especially on those really nasty, hot, and steamy days. Thankfully, and because we are on the ocean, there are precious few of those but when and where we find them we treat ourselves to a quick and sometimes prolonged dip knickers or no knickers.
I wish Nancy had paid a little more attention to the garden when she put it in earlier this year. She planted precious few items and in the process left certain areas go to weed and those areas now threaten to overrun the rest of the garden. I have no regrets over not having gotten more involved. I enjoy gardening but find it to be a chore if it becomes a continuous thing and back-to-back seasons qualify as continuous in my mind. And what about those oysters we had in downtown Portsmouth last night? "How do you prefer your oysters, sir," the waitress asked politely. "Do you like them briny or perhaps a little less briny?" They had several varieties on the menu so the choice was mine to make. I settled on oysters from Maine and thought to myself that the colder the water the better when and where it comes to buying and consuming farmed oysters. They served them on the half shell atop several pounds of shaved ice and with an ample side of lemon, horseradish, and cocktail sauce. I do like raw seafood so these little fellas were just what the doctor ordered. The coffee place up the street was a disappointment but that's fine since there are plenty of other shops to frequent in downtown Portsmouth. When I get a spare moment I'll talk a little more about my latest indulgence, cold brew.
Political Correctness Be Damned
18/07/15 07:09
Waking up this morning to a sweet and gentle rain. Didn't see that coming. I'm glad I made it a point to roll up the windows in the car last night. Also feeling good about the fact that I mowed the lawn yesterday like the dutiful husband that I am. I would have been chanting "get er done before the rain starts falling" had I known the rain was coming. Truth be told, I would have sooner grabbed a nap yesterday given how I was feeling and nearly nodded off while sitting on the couch. I would have fallen asleep had Nancy not started laughing at me as she watched me close one eye after the other as I sat there doing nothing in particular. I was wanting to get the lawn done before the weekend and I had my hair cut earlier in the afternoon so was feeling the wind at my back and the last thing I wanted to do was to nod off and lose my momentum. The plan was simple: while Evan and Nancy went to Exeter I was going to mow the lawn and tidy up the yard. It was all about putting one foot after another till it was done. Nothing more, nothing less. I've never understood why people pay other people to do something like this when it is such a satisfying thing to do. Maybe I should qualify that by say, for me anyway. Suffice it to say there are a lot of things I don't understand and never will. This is one of many
If I hear one more fucking person say that we need to have a national conversation about this or that I am going to jump out of my skin. I'm reminded of a Youtube video I was looking at yesterday where some transsexual or transgender person was making a point about wanting to have a national conversation about sexual identities and gender transformations. This person appeared to be a women but when she opened her mouth you knew in an instant that it was a man. Everything about her from that point on was muscular, masculine, and quite frankly, freakish. When she threatened to send one of the forum participants home in an ambulance in response to what I considered to be inane comment, I sat there wishing that someone, anyone, would stand up and beat the living daylights out of her until her mascara stained the floor on the set. It had more to do with her stridency than anything else and it was no different than taking sides in a bare knuckled death match where the participants were equally matched and you placed your bets in advance of the event. But, no, I don't want to have a conversation about this nonsense. Stop asking us to consider it "normal." It isn't. Stop asking us to pass laws to protect you from discrimination. They already exist and don't need to be tailored to your specific case. Stop teaching our children that this is part and parcel of the fabric of our society because it fails to meet that standard. Feel free to have your conversation but leave me out of it. Just leave me out of it. Please.
So there we were. There were six or seven of us sitting in a conference room talking about different models and different variations on a particular theme. One a time, the participants stood up at the board and drew this or that while making a point here and there. There were six women in the room and then there was me. Not a big deal. I never even gave it a second thought. No need to. It was and has been the norm for a while now. How I ended up with an all female staff is another question for another day. Anyway, one woman in particular stood at the board with her back to us and made a statement to the effect, "who has been putting things in my box." It was true that we were drawing things in boxes here and there on the board so her comment on its face was not unusual or odd in any sense of the word. Out of nowhere, the facilitator chimes in with the following response: "Honey, if you don't know who's been in your box, that's a problem." To a person, the women in the room gave in to giggling and squirming in their seats as though I wasn't even there. I sat stone faced afraid to let on that I even understood what they were talking about while one after another added their own comments not stepping away from the fray even for a moment.
It was, in a word, surreal. Even women who I wouldn't think would participate in such ribaldry jumped in with both feet and I did my level best to stay professional while praying to the baby Jesus that someone would change the subject. Maybe I should take comfort in the fact that they felt confident enough of our relationship both as a group and with me as their manager that they could indulge in such a thing without fear of retribution or criticism. As much as I wanted to share that moment with others I could not. I could not do so without obligating someone to report it as a form of sexual impropriety and one that could potentially imperil one or more careers in the process. I refuse to turn a light-hearted moment amongst friends and co-workers into an act of deviancy and misconduct in the eyes of our corporate overseers. Political correctness be damned. I'll take this frivolity to my grave before I betray the confidences of my beloved co-workers. Then again, maybe it is all in my head. Then again, maybe not.
If I hear one more fucking person say that we need to have a national conversation about this or that I am going to jump out of my skin. I'm reminded of a Youtube video I was looking at yesterday where some transsexual or transgender person was making a point about wanting to have a national conversation about sexual identities and gender transformations. This person appeared to be a women but when she opened her mouth you knew in an instant that it was a man. Everything about her from that point on was muscular, masculine, and quite frankly, freakish. When she threatened to send one of the forum participants home in an ambulance in response to what I considered to be inane comment, I sat there wishing that someone, anyone, would stand up and beat the living daylights out of her until her mascara stained the floor on the set. It had more to do with her stridency than anything else and it was no different than taking sides in a bare knuckled death match where the participants were equally matched and you placed your bets in advance of the event. But, no, I don't want to have a conversation about this nonsense. Stop asking us to consider it "normal." It isn't. Stop asking us to pass laws to protect you from discrimination. They already exist and don't need to be tailored to your specific case. Stop teaching our children that this is part and parcel of the fabric of our society because it fails to meet that standard. Feel free to have your conversation but leave me out of it. Just leave me out of it. Please.
So there we were. There were six or seven of us sitting in a conference room talking about different models and different variations on a particular theme. One a time, the participants stood up at the board and drew this or that while making a point here and there. There were six women in the room and then there was me. Not a big deal. I never even gave it a second thought. No need to. It was and has been the norm for a while now. How I ended up with an all female staff is another question for another day. Anyway, one woman in particular stood at the board with her back to us and made a statement to the effect, "who has been putting things in my box." It was true that we were drawing things in boxes here and there on the board so her comment on its face was not unusual or odd in any sense of the word. Out of nowhere, the facilitator chimes in with the following response: "Honey, if you don't know who's been in your box, that's a problem." To a person, the women in the room gave in to giggling and squirming in their seats as though I wasn't even there. I sat stone faced afraid to let on that I even understood what they were talking about while one after another added their own comments not stepping away from the fray even for a moment.
It was, in a word, surreal. Even women who I wouldn't think would participate in such ribaldry jumped in with both feet and I did my level best to stay professional while praying to the baby Jesus that someone would change the subject. Maybe I should take comfort in the fact that they felt confident enough of our relationship both as a group and with me as their manager that they could indulge in such a thing without fear of retribution or criticism. As much as I wanted to share that moment with others I could not. I could not do so without obligating someone to report it as a form of sexual impropriety and one that could potentially imperil one or more careers in the process. I refuse to turn a light-hearted moment amongst friends and co-workers into an act of deviancy and misconduct in the eyes of our corporate overseers. Political correctness be damned. I'll take this frivolity to my grave before I betray the confidences of my beloved co-workers. Then again, maybe it is all in my head. Then again, maybe not.
Just Another Lazy Summer Day
11/07/15 06:46
Either I've got a story in my head today or I don't. One way or another it's going to come out. I was thinking a little bit about Donald Trump but not sure I want to go there just yet. When he takes to the stage with ten of his competitors we'll see how he translates. The guy is somewhat of a caricature of himself but if we've learned anything after eight years of Obama we've learned that anyone can sit in that seat and fuck it up or not. Conservative and independent voters turned down Romney eight years ago over a freshman legislator from Chicago with no business experience and we've been paying the price ever since. Maybe "The Donald" is just what we need. I think the country is in a "throw the bums out" kind of mood so I can see Trump looking to capitalize on that sentiment. You''ll not see him looking past such opportunities and I fully expect that we'll see Trump being Trump from here on in. You can't say that about the other candidates with maybe one or two exceptions. The political winds are simply too fickle and the voters are seemingly not in the mood to repeat their mistakes of the past. Let's get it right this time. That's my mantra. What was I saying again about not wanting to go there?
Summer is in full swing here along the coast. We need to get out on our bikes earlier and earlier if we're wanting to avoid the cars and mayhem that we invariably run into if we leave the house too late in the morning. I don't mind slowing down when the cars start piling up along the boulevard but it does become something of a distraction so it is better avoided sometimes. That is not to say that I mind slowing down to avoid running into the crowds as they make their way to the beach because I don't. Distractions are dangerous when you have a lot of moving objects crisscrossing the highway and I am mindful of that fact but not concerned one way or another that I will run into trouble. It was interesting to note the license plates along the boulevard yesterday and the various states represented. All were mostly within a stones throw from New Hampshire, not surprisingly, and most not local. It pleases me that our town had the foresight to designate a stretch of beachside roadway for "locals only." You still need to buy a beach sticker so there's a small price to pay but for those locals looking to enjoy our beautiful beaches that is a small price to pay. For what it's worth, I never go to the beach. I'm slightly uncomfortable, truth be told, with not being at the top of the food chain when wading in the ocean. It is what it is.
We went to this hamburger joint in downtown Portsmouth called Lexis' Joint with Mrs G yesterday late yesterday afternoon. It was written up recently as one of the better burger joints in and around Portsmouth. As burger joints go, I guess it was ok. Just ok. I was surprised that they had someone waiting on the tables given the size of the place. She never asked how I wanted my bacon cheeseburger cooked nor did she ask me whether I wanted the 4oz burger or the 8 oz burger. As I sit here this morning I'm not sure which one ended up on my plate. I thought I asked for cheddar but what I ended up with looked more like Velveeta. Mrs G sat looking at her burger when they put it in front of her and she promptly took a napkin and laid it over the top of the burger soaking up the excess juices that puddled atop her patty. A small group of lesbians sat at an adjoining table enjoying their meal while speaking in whispers and sipping their multi-colored alcoholic beverages. A party of four squeezed into the corner table next to us and babbled on as senior citizens will about traffic on the bridge or some such nonsense.
The waitresses, all twenty-something and easy on the eyes, moved about the crowded floor with great efficiency and dispatch. Between our table and the doorway there was a small area for those waiting to be seated separated by a partition that was shoulder-high. Invariably, customers coming in the door took to peering over the partition and that was slightly annoying given our proximity to the wall. But the shoestring Idaho french fry's were served piping hot and my coffee milk shake, while not as large as I would have liked it knowing that I would be sharing it with Nancy, was delicious and delightfully cold even with all the distractions I've duly noted here. The check came too early to the table for Nancy's likes but was otherwise accompanied by three miniature chocolate cookies which delighted her to no end. Mints must be passé. Yes, of course, darling. You can have my cookie.
Summer is in full swing here along the coast. We need to get out on our bikes earlier and earlier if we're wanting to avoid the cars and mayhem that we invariably run into if we leave the house too late in the morning. I don't mind slowing down when the cars start piling up along the boulevard but it does become something of a distraction so it is better avoided sometimes. That is not to say that I mind slowing down to avoid running into the crowds as they make their way to the beach because I don't. Distractions are dangerous when you have a lot of moving objects crisscrossing the highway and I am mindful of that fact but not concerned one way or another that I will run into trouble. It was interesting to note the license plates along the boulevard yesterday and the various states represented. All were mostly within a stones throw from New Hampshire, not surprisingly, and most not local. It pleases me that our town had the foresight to designate a stretch of beachside roadway for "locals only." You still need to buy a beach sticker so there's a small price to pay but for those locals looking to enjoy our beautiful beaches that is a small price to pay. For what it's worth, I never go to the beach. I'm slightly uncomfortable, truth be told, with not being at the top of the food chain when wading in the ocean. It is what it is.
We went to this hamburger joint in downtown Portsmouth called Lexis' Joint with Mrs G yesterday late yesterday afternoon. It was written up recently as one of the better burger joints in and around Portsmouth. As burger joints go, I guess it was ok. Just ok. I was surprised that they had someone waiting on the tables given the size of the place. She never asked how I wanted my bacon cheeseburger cooked nor did she ask me whether I wanted the 4oz burger or the 8 oz burger. As I sit here this morning I'm not sure which one ended up on my plate. I thought I asked for cheddar but what I ended up with looked more like Velveeta. Mrs G sat looking at her burger when they put it in front of her and she promptly took a napkin and laid it over the top of the burger soaking up the excess juices that puddled atop her patty. A small group of lesbians sat at an adjoining table enjoying their meal while speaking in whispers and sipping their multi-colored alcoholic beverages. A party of four squeezed into the corner table next to us and babbled on as senior citizens will about traffic on the bridge or some such nonsense.
The waitresses, all twenty-something and easy on the eyes, moved about the crowded floor with great efficiency and dispatch. Between our table and the doorway there was a small area for those waiting to be seated separated by a partition that was shoulder-high. Invariably, customers coming in the door took to peering over the partition and that was slightly annoying given our proximity to the wall. But the shoestring Idaho french fry's were served piping hot and my coffee milk shake, while not as large as I would have liked it knowing that I would be sharing it with Nancy, was delicious and delightfully cold even with all the distractions I've duly noted here. The check came too early to the table for Nancy's likes but was otherwise accompanied by three miniature chocolate cookies which delighted her to no end. Mints must be passé. Yes, of course, darling. You can have my cookie.
Letter to Ev
03/07/15 07:54
God only knows that I try to get this journal stuff started before Nancy gets up and about in the morning. After all, a man needs his private time and that just doesn't work well when everyone is up and about. It's a stark reminder of how fractured your thought processes can be during the course of a day when your senses are inundated or overstimulated with inputs from people, places, things, etc. Nancy knows better than to try to engage me when I'm doing this but sometimes she'll just take a seat across from me and sip her tea while pretending that she is the most important person in the world. And mostly, it works. I lose my momentum and my focus and it is all of a sudden not about me anymore. It's all about Nancy. She walked right by me this morning and took a seat on the deck which is still within earshot of me but I'm not hearing a peep from her. Not yet, that is. Still, her very presence is distracting. In a good way I would say. Mostly good, that is. I'm sure it won't be long before she'll be talking to me about something. It wouldn't be like her not to. I expect it and just expecting it distracts me. I don't want to be distracted. I could come back to this but that doesn't always work. I sometimes tell myself that I'll sort out my thoughts during the course of the day and revisit my blog with a refreshed and more organized sense of what I want to put down in writing. Sitting down in the late afternoon with a cup of coffee and my blog works too. I just need to remind myself to do it. I'm sorry, Nancy. You were saying?
Did I tell you that I just LOVE my new phone? All of the concern I had about the 6 plus being too big was just hogwash. It is actually smaller than I thought it would be. And the iPhone 6, which Nancy has, is a little bigger than I thought it would be. There is just a world of difference between her old iPhone 5 and her new phone so she couldn't be happier. When Nancy tells you that she loves something as inanimate as an iPhone that says something. I think she loves the look and feel of the new devise and the difference between the icons and the clarity of the screen display on the two models is incredible. The icons are bigger, easier to navigate to both visually and by touch, and as Steve Jobs liked to say about the iCloud service, "it just works." Debbie, if you are reading this you need to upgrade to an iPhone 6. And I am going to be very particular about the cover I get for my phone. I can never understand why people pay premium dollar for the iPhone and then cover the screen with something that is designed to protect it from scratches, etc. I'm sure the very thought of consumers covering the screen with a layer of anything has Steve rolling over in his grave. The good folks at Apple have worked too long and too hard to get it right only to see the end users compromise the quality of the device and all it offers with a stupid cover of sorts. Protection that keeps the screen from shattering in a fall might be a good idea but don't cover the screen thinking that it is the only way to maintain a pristine screen. Just be careful and use common sense.
I'll be watching the austerity vote in Greece tomorrow. I'm hoping that the Markets tank as a result of their vote to bow out of the eurozone. Or, maybe the vote will be to adopt even tougher austerity measures. Not exactly sure. A buying opportunity would be nice. And I've been dragging my feet for the last few days and haven't mowed the lawn yet. Gotta get that done and soon. I've been a bit of a putz when it comes to taking care of my snowblower too. What is the matter with me? Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow is the day I will get it all done. Done and out of the way. Now that we have Mrs G sorted out with her new iPad and all we can get down to business around the house. We passed on going out for a late afternoon dinner with Mrs G and she picked up something at Hannaford's when we stopped there to do a little shopping. We stopped at Bob's Clam Hut in Kittery, ME yesterday so that was enough dining out for one week. Hannafords' was quiet and the streets in and around Portsmouth were equally as quiet with folks largely away on holiday. One would think with Portsmouth being a holiday hotspot in and of itself that there would fewer people leaving town. As it is, this is probably the best time of all to get into town to do a little shopping, etc so that is what we did. No need to feed the parking meters outside Starbucks so we swilled our hot beverages at our leisure inside the store for the better part of a half hour before leaving the shop. I made a nice pizza here at home for the family and threw just about everything but the kitchen sink on it. I also used our new pizza stone. What a difference that makes. Everything was just crispier. The broccoli, the feta cheese, the onions, the mushrooms, the green olives, the sliced cherry tomatoes, you get the picture. Speaking of pictures, I should have taken one.
Before I forget, I came across a letter I wrote to Evan when he was five years old. The idea was that he might read it one day and maybe have an opportunity to reflect on what his mom and dad were thinking back in the "olden days." He's 20 now and probably not interested in reading it and not sure he ever will be interested so I might as well post it here for the hell of it. Here goes…
Did I tell you that I just LOVE my new phone? All of the concern I had about the 6 plus being too big was just hogwash. It is actually smaller than I thought it would be. And the iPhone 6, which Nancy has, is a little bigger than I thought it would be. There is just a world of difference between her old iPhone 5 and her new phone so she couldn't be happier. When Nancy tells you that she loves something as inanimate as an iPhone that says something. I think she loves the look and feel of the new devise and the difference between the icons and the clarity of the screen display on the two models is incredible. The icons are bigger, easier to navigate to both visually and by touch, and as Steve Jobs liked to say about the iCloud service, "it just works." Debbie, if you are reading this you need to upgrade to an iPhone 6. And I am going to be very particular about the cover I get for my phone. I can never understand why people pay premium dollar for the iPhone and then cover the screen with something that is designed to protect it from scratches, etc. I'm sure the very thought of consumers covering the screen with a layer of anything has Steve rolling over in his grave. The good folks at Apple have worked too long and too hard to get it right only to see the end users compromise the quality of the device and all it offers with a stupid cover of sorts. Protection that keeps the screen from shattering in a fall might be a good idea but don't cover the screen thinking that it is the only way to maintain a pristine screen. Just be careful and use common sense.
I'll be watching the austerity vote in Greece tomorrow. I'm hoping that the Markets tank as a result of their vote to bow out of the eurozone. Or, maybe the vote will be to adopt even tougher austerity measures. Not exactly sure. A buying opportunity would be nice. And I've been dragging my feet for the last few days and haven't mowed the lawn yet. Gotta get that done and soon. I've been a bit of a putz when it comes to taking care of my snowblower too. What is the matter with me? Tomorrow is the day. Tomorrow is the day I will get it all done. Done and out of the way. Now that we have Mrs G sorted out with her new iPad and all we can get down to business around the house. We passed on going out for a late afternoon dinner with Mrs G and she picked up something at Hannaford's when we stopped there to do a little shopping. We stopped at Bob's Clam Hut in Kittery, ME yesterday so that was enough dining out for one week. Hannafords' was quiet and the streets in and around Portsmouth were equally as quiet with folks largely away on holiday. One would think with Portsmouth being a holiday hotspot in and of itself that there would fewer people leaving town. As it is, this is probably the best time of all to get into town to do a little shopping, etc so that is what we did. No need to feed the parking meters outside Starbucks so we swilled our hot beverages at our leisure inside the store for the better part of a half hour before leaving the shop. I made a nice pizza here at home for the family and threw just about everything but the kitchen sink on it. I also used our new pizza stone. What a difference that makes. Everything was just crispier. The broccoli, the feta cheese, the onions, the mushrooms, the green olives, the sliced cherry tomatoes, you get the picture. Speaking of pictures, I should have taken one.
Before I forget, I came across a letter I wrote to Evan when he was five years old. The idea was that he might read it one day and maybe have an opportunity to reflect on what his mom and dad were thinking back in the "olden days." He's 20 now and probably not interested in reading it and not sure he ever will be interested so I might as well post it here for the hell of it. Here goes…
January 1, 2000
Dear Ev,
Or is it Evan? Yes, you've insisted that we not call you Ev but that is a tall order indeed. We do so love the name Evan, but the temptation to call you Ev is just too much. Since your momma spends near every waking hour with you, except for the time you are at your Nana's or Montessori, we'll allow her that small misgiving. Hopefully, in time, and as your friends assign you a nickname of their own, the name "Ev" will be a distant memory for you but your momma and I will always hold it dear to our hearts.
So, what is this letter, you ask? It was momma's idea. I think she read about it somewhere and decided that she wanted to do it. The thought of handing you a number of yellowed envelopes at the age of 18 seemed preposterous at first, but it quickly grew on me. I can see it now. As you step down off the stage after receiving your high school diploma, your momma and I draw close to you and with tears of pride swelling in our eyes we deliver into your hands those letters long written and saved for this precious moment. It will be a special moment for us, and even now the sense of anticipation grows even as I sit here writing the first of many letters to come. And that is how this business all began.
If there were one really special moment this past Xmas, I would have to say it was when we put the Pajama Sam computer game on the roof and we told you that Santa had dropped it there during the Xmas delivery. You should have seen the look on your face! Sheer delight! And given your 105.8 degree temperature at the Sagamore on Xmas eve, we had little to celebrate as we hunkered down at the hotel trying to figure out when we might take you to the emergency room. That never happened and you finally recovered but not fully until we arrived home in Rye. We were all sick during the holidays at one time or another, and we all got through it. And do you remember being at Jeremy's and Lexa's house on New Years eve? We all saw the year 2000 ushered in, and it was probably the first time you were ever up that late. But, we made it as a family and that was a special night indeed.
You've come a long way this past year. Turning 5 was a momentous occasion for us. You are showing an increased awareness of the world around you, and we see you looking at yourself in new and different ways than we used to. Momma saw you examining yourself in the mirror last week and with a flick of your wrist you put your hair just right. Satisfied that your face was clean and everything was in order, you stepped down off the stool and away from the sink. "Bedtime routine," your momma called out. Settling in next to her on the couch, the two of you made for quite a scene. I can't remember whether we had a wood stove going that evening or not. You do so love when we have a fire in the stove.
A little finger prick maybe? Another visit to see Bachrach? Another vial of blood drawn. We wonder what you think about all this "hospital" business. We remind ourselves that we've not told you much, but we know that we probably need to put it into terms you'll understand. That is, when we figure out what is going on. We're not sure, nor are the doctors, what to make of your ketones or blood glucose readings which are not right. We can tell you that we were extremely relieved to know that it was not Diabetes. That diagnosis would have killed us. We can live with what we think they think it is that being a deficiency of sorts, but we have scheduled a second opinion in Boston for next week so that's what we have planned for now. We did tell Bachrach that we were not interested in having you go into the hospital for a couple of days so he could confirm his suspicions. It is reportable or so he says. We'll see.
Your best friends Trevor, Sam, and Nick, and Jordan, are there for you at Montessori. They are there to kick around the soccer ball while you play outside, and they are there to listen and watch as you do circle time with them. And Ann and Terry tell your momma and me that you are doing a great job with the number board. I'll bet your class was really surprised when you brought in a snake skin for show and tell. And I've seen for myself when they've offered to help you hand out napkins or cookies that your momma has made for those special occasions. We're happy too that the peanut allergy you have has not prevented you from enjoying such times and if I had to guess I would say that momma's cookies were always a fine substitute. And then, there were times when you said that you would rather have nothing to eat than the cake that was being served if there were no ingredients listed. I think you didn't want to be seen as being different. You have worked so hard to fit in, and you have such fine and loyal friends. You are a fine boy!
It's funny to think that in the midst of all you are going through that there are times when the simple act of tying our shoes gives you more pleasure than we would think. We wish you would find he same pleasure in doing "toots" or putting your dishes in the sink after eating. We wish you would find more pleasure in eating vegetables, or keeping your room clean. We watched as you lined your Pokemon characters up neatly in a row against the wall in your bedroom. You may have the Debbie of Da gene but we're just not sure yet. And just yesterday, momma was gleeful in her praise of you as you helped shovel Nan's driveway. There is surely much give and take in our lives today and it's hard to sort through. With you at the center of our lives, we always end up smiling .
If there is one thing now that we wish would change for the better it would be your hitting your momma. "Stay away from my bum," is her most common refrain. And then, I remember telling you on the phone that you will have to deal with me if you hit your momma. Having this kind of discussion with a five-year old feels a little like an out-of-body experience, and it makes me wonder where it's all going.
Your aggression seems limited to our home. Thankfully. You are not otherwise a bully. Rather, you prefer to stand on the sidelines and take it all in before jumping in with both feet when involved in social situations. When your momma and I watch you play soccer on Saturdays in Hampton we are amazed by your reluctance to jump into the fray and your favorite position is defense. It is a far cry from your soccer playing in our own yard where you make every attempt to wrestle the ball away from us as we run round and round the house. You are in the mix. Involved. Serious. Intent on winning. So I was pleased to hear from your momma that you recently scored a goal and that must have been a real confidence booster for you. Getting to know the game, the people, and the rules may be your way of warming up to your environment. You do so enjoy sports and we hope you will find your confidence there. Slowly, to be sure. It will be good for you.
I do have a regret or two that I want to mention. I arrived home one day earlier this year to discover that you had shed the training wheels on your bike, and you were wheeling around the neighborhood as though you had been doing so for months. Your momma told me that Roger, our next door neighbor, had taken the training wheels off your bike. She didn't seem to realize that allowing Roger to do so was taking away from me one of the many pleasures that a dad can enjoy in raising a son. Or a daughter. Nonetheless, it hurt to know that I missed that one opportunity. It was something I'd hoped we might share. There will be many other opportunities, and I can only hope that I will be there for you. That is my wish as I sit here writing this letter on a cold winter morning in the month of January in Rye, NH.
God Help Us All
28/06/15 07:14
I just don't know what's going on any more in this country of ours. A nut job goes into a church in Charleston, South Carolina and kills 9 people and the next thing you know the country is calling for the banning of the display of the confederate flag, the president of our great country is calling for the banning of guns, and there is an out and out assault on the very symbols that have been part and parcel of our republic since day one. There's more. The Supreme Court decides that words don't matter when they uphold Obamacare despite the fact that it is clear from reading the law itself as originally constructed that federal subsidies were not allowed. There's more. The Supreme Court finds that dignity of the individual is paramount and that gay marriage will be the law of the land from here on in. No sooner had that decision come down when the White House and it's current occupants, the radical leftists hailing from South Chicago, decided that it was appropriate that the White House be bathed in all of the colors of the rainbow to celebrate the victory long sought by the LGBT community and their brethren. Tell me again when you've seen this sort of display to celebrate say the fourth of July, the victories of our troops, or some other such thing? There's more. Ben and Jerry's, the ice cream purveyors, decided that they too would celebrate the gay marriage law by producing a "gay" flavor. Our institutions, or what is left of them, are being torn apart by leftists who despise everything this country has ever stood for and will not rest until we are transformed into a socialistic society the likes of which you can find south of our border or elsewhere across the globe. We can't say we weren't warned. Obama came into office with the promise that he would "fundamentally transform" America. God help us all.
It is one dreary fucking day here on the Seacoast. The rain is coming down at a good clip and that is the story for the balance of the day I'm afraid. That's fine. I have work to do here in the house and I may go into the office to do a little work as well. Nancy too will be making a trip into Boston for the day and is not thrilled that she needs to make that drive in the rain. We revamped our phone plans yesterday and upgraded our devices. The new iPhone 6 is pretty sweet and I think Nancy is really going to like her new phone. It's nicer all around. It has a larger screen with bigger icons and a much improved display although it is only a 16GB model. We really should have bought her a 32GB model. We'll have to manage her apps a little better and get her photos off the device once they start to pile up. Evan is going to get Nancy's old 5S and not a iPhone 6. I opted for the iPhone 6 plus and will pick that up on Monday. I'm a little worried that it might be a little too big but I guess we'll see. I'm just happy to be done with the Galaxy 4 I've been using for the last two years. I just never warmed up to that device so left it in my backpack most of the time where I had access to it at work if I needed to use it. We'll give these toys a twirl for a couple of years and see how it goes. If and when Evan gets his act together he can upgrade to a 6 or more. For now, he'll use the 5S.
So, whaddup with Evan? Good question. Maybe we always knew this about him and maybe we didn't. He's a little short on initiative if you know what I mean. I'm talking about the spark required to get up off your arse and make something of yourself. It just ain't happening. We're certainly not helping and, in fact, we may be enabling him. Maybe we should be turning off the internet so he is not gaming 24-7. Maybe we should be charging him rent and see where that goes. He is certainly less than helpful around the house and insisting on anything makes matters worse and not better. He did a little work for the Dan man up the street although that gig is intermittent at best. HE NEEDS A REAL JOB. Just got off the phone with Mrs G. She called me to report that her flag was up and holding strong even with the nasty winds and driving rains whipping up and down the coast today. We're socked in as they say. I was standing in our driveway last night before coming into the house and could hear the foghorns blowing just off the coast warning ships near and far of the pending storm and surging seas. I was hoping to get in a bike ride today but that is a distant dream now as I sit here sulking at 6:47pm on a Sunday night. I'll lift my spirits with some sushi I picked up today at Philbricks and call it a day. Did I mention that I'm swilling a little cold brew? Damn delicious! Thank you for the update, Mrs. G. We now have one less thing to worry about.
It is one dreary fucking day here on the Seacoast. The rain is coming down at a good clip and that is the story for the balance of the day I'm afraid. That's fine. I have work to do here in the house and I may go into the office to do a little work as well. Nancy too will be making a trip into Boston for the day and is not thrilled that she needs to make that drive in the rain. We revamped our phone plans yesterday and upgraded our devices. The new iPhone 6 is pretty sweet and I think Nancy is really going to like her new phone. It's nicer all around. It has a larger screen with bigger icons and a much improved display although it is only a 16GB model. We really should have bought her a 32GB model. We'll have to manage her apps a little better and get her photos off the device once they start to pile up. Evan is going to get Nancy's old 5S and not a iPhone 6. I opted for the iPhone 6 plus and will pick that up on Monday. I'm a little worried that it might be a little too big but I guess we'll see. I'm just happy to be done with the Galaxy 4 I've been using for the last two years. I just never warmed up to that device so left it in my backpack most of the time where I had access to it at work if I needed to use it. We'll give these toys a twirl for a couple of years and see how it goes. If and when Evan gets his act together he can upgrade to a 6 or more. For now, he'll use the 5S.
So, whaddup with Evan? Good question. Maybe we always knew this about him and maybe we didn't. He's a little short on initiative if you know what I mean. I'm talking about the spark required to get up off your arse and make something of yourself. It just ain't happening. We're certainly not helping and, in fact, we may be enabling him. Maybe we should be turning off the internet so he is not gaming 24-7. Maybe we should be charging him rent and see where that goes. He is certainly less than helpful around the house and insisting on anything makes matters worse and not better. He did a little work for the Dan man up the street although that gig is intermittent at best. HE NEEDS A REAL JOB. Just got off the phone with Mrs G. She called me to report that her flag was up and holding strong even with the nasty winds and driving rains whipping up and down the coast today. We're socked in as they say. I was standing in our driveway last night before coming into the house and could hear the foghorns blowing just off the coast warning ships near and far of the pending storm and surging seas. I was hoping to get in a bike ride today but that is a distant dream now as I sit here sulking at 6:47pm on a Sunday night. I'll lift my spirits with some sushi I picked up today at Philbricks and call it a day. Did I mention that I'm swilling a little cold brew? Damn delicious! Thank you for the update, Mrs. G. We now have one less thing to worry about.
Gives Me Hope
20/06/15 08:17
Another stellar day in the hood. The sun is shining bright and with tomorrow being the first day of Spring that seems appropriate. Why not usher the first day of Spring in with open arms and eyes just as wide. I always end the week thinking to myself that I'll go into work for just a little while on Saturday to tidy things up. There are always one of two things that I never get to and in all the commotion of the week I'm not sure that task or those tasks won't be better done in the solitude of a quiet office on a weekend day. It would certainly be easier to go into the office were it raining or at the very least overcast. That is not the case today. Then there are the rationalizations. Oh, I'll just go in tomorrow. Tomorrow will be a better day. That is what I tell myself on Friday with everything fresh in my mind. If I wait until Sunday I may lose the momentum of my thoughts and resurrecting everything might seem less urgent were I to wait until Sunday. Of course, by the time Sunday rolls around I'm not pulling any punches. Fuck it. It can wait till tomorrow. I had the best of intentions but that is all gone now. All that remains is a bit of residual guilt. Enough guilt that I will want to do better the next time I'm feeling like going into work on the weekend. Yes, I will do better. Just between you and me? Not likely.
Nancy's five-year anniversary is now in the history books. It was, for all intents and purposes, merely another day on the calendar. Except for the fact that she got the "all clean" verdict, it came and went in routine fashion. We did as we always do, whether it was for a six month or one-year checkup, meaning that we planned to go into Boston early on for an early appointment and then we would do whatever pleased us before getting back on the road going north in order to beat the afternoon rush hour traffic. We never once considered hearing bad news and apart from some occasional nervousness in the days leading up to the appointment it was business as usual. We probably spent more time on planning what we were going to do in Boston while there for the appointment than we did planning what we would do if the news was not good. That is not to say that I was not acutely attuned to matters at hand for any sign of bad news to come. Did the doctor have the results before he sat down to discuss with us? Why, for the first time since we visited that office some five years ago did we not meet with the nurse? Why did the doctor not do a check up like has in the past? Why was the doctor still looking at the results of the MRI as we were walking out of the office? The expression "don't look a gift horse in the mouth" comes to mind so we promptly left the hospital and went about our business in town stopping at the new Whole Foods store in the South End and dropping by Peet's in Brookline for a pound of aged sumatra before hitting the road. " I think we can push the next follow-up out two years and then we'll probably be done", said the doctor. Sweeter words were never spoken.
Race relations have never been worse in this country. Not in my lifetime anyway. When Rosa Parks made that fateful decision to not take a seat in the back of the bus in Alabama in 1955 I was a mere lad barely a year old. We've come a long way since then but not without a struggle and, as some black folks would tell you, not far enough. In some corners of this country they may still be looking for reparations. When this country faced the prospects of having a black president in 2008 it was viewed as a sign that the great racial divide was a thing of the past and the movement as tumultuous as it had been was now taking a turn for the better. The demons of racial inequality were about to be exorcised or that was, at the very least, the promise of the new president. It was Obama's version of a rising tide lifts all boats. No one, and I mean no one, could have anticipated that race relations would be worse under a black president 3 years into his second term. What Obama and his minions, including the likes of Al Sharpton and much of the media, have figured out is that there is political gold in divisiveness. If leveraged properly it would result in a highly charged constituency come election day and that would be a good thing for the liberals. Forget that the liberals have as their unspoken priority to keep the minorities, including blacks, oppressed so they have a narrative of false hope that sells easily to the low information voters in the minority communities.
It is no coincidence that the riots and lawlessness in recent months in places like Ferguson. Missouri and Baltimore, Maryland and even in New York City where they chanted for days on end "what do we want - dead cops; when do we want it; now" precede the national elections by a year give or take. The fingerprints and actions of the Obama administration have never been more obvious in what can only be construed as criminal. To suggest such a thing, especially as it relates to Obama himself, makes you a racist. But I digress. Just when I thought that the entire black population had fallen under the spell of this corrupt and criminal president, I am pleased to say that I take comfort and considerable consolation with what I've seen coming out of Charleston, South Carolina. Nine blacks were gunned down at a church meeting by a lunatic who wanted nothing more than to start a race war in the space of time it took to reload his gun 5 times. That community wanted nothing to do with the Sharpton's of the world and while he was packing his bags to make the trip they disinvited him. While the president of the United States immediately decried gun violence and the need to further restrict people's rights under the second amendment the good and decent people of Charleston, South Carolina held hands and asked for nothing more than an opportunity to heal as a community. Blacks and whites alike joined hands and hearts and shared stories of the good souls now departed. No one took to the streets rioting and looting; no one carried banners looking to further ignite racial tensions; no one looked to the likes of Sharpton or Jesse Jackson to speak for them; they carried on like they always have. They asked but one question when faced with the unbelievable brutality leveled against their brethren; what would the baby Jesus do? To a person, they spoke of forgiveness. Love and forgiveness. There is hope for our country yet.
Nancy's five-year anniversary is now in the history books. It was, for all intents and purposes, merely another day on the calendar. Except for the fact that she got the "all clean" verdict, it came and went in routine fashion. We did as we always do, whether it was for a six month or one-year checkup, meaning that we planned to go into Boston early on for an early appointment and then we would do whatever pleased us before getting back on the road going north in order to beat the afternoon rush hour traffic. We never once considered hearing bad news and apart from some occasional nervousness in the days leading up to the appointment it was business as usual. We probably spent more time on planning what we were going to do in Boston while there for the appointment than we did planning what we would do if the news was not good. That is not to say that I was not acutely attuned to matters at hand for any sign of bad news to come. Did the doctor have the results before he sat down to discuss with us? Why, for the first time since we visited that office some five years ago did we not meet with the nurse? Why did the doctor not do a check up like has in the past? Why was the doctor still looking at the results of the MRI as we were walking out of the office? The expression "don't look a gift horse in the mouth" comes to mind so we promptly left the hospital and went about our business in town stopping at the new Whole Foods store in the South End and dropping by Peet's in Brookline for a pound of aged sumatra before hitting the road. " I think we can push the next follow-up out two years and then we'll probably be done", said the doctor. Sweeter words were never spoken.
Race relations have never been worse in this country. Not in my lifetime anyway. When Rosa Parks made that fateful decision to not take a seat in the back of the bus in Alabama in 1955 I was a mere lad barely a year old. We've come a long way since then but not without a struggle and, as some black folks would tell you, not far enough. In some corners of this country they may still be looking for reparations. When this country faced the prospects of having a black president in 2008 it was viewed as a sign that the great racial divide was a thing of the past and the movement as tumultuous as it had been was now taking a turn for the better. The demons of racial inequality were about to be exorcised or that was, at the very least, the promise of the new president. It was Obama's version of a rising tide lifts all boats. No one, and I mean no one, could have anticipated that race relations would be worse under a black president 3 years into his second term. What Obama and his minions, including the likes of Al Sharpton and much of the media, have figured out is that there is political gold in divisiveness. If leveraged properly it would result in a highly charged constituency come election day and that would be a good thing for the liberals. Forget that the liberals have as their unspoken priority to keep the minorities, including blacks, oppressed so they have a narrative of false hope that sells easily to the low information voters in the minority communities.
It is no coincidence that the riots and lawlessness in recent months in places like Ferguson. Missouri and Baltimore, Maryland and even in New York City where they chanted for days on end "what do we want - dead cops; when do we want it; now" precede the national elections by a year give or take. The fingerprints and actions of the Obama administration have never been more obvious in what can only be construed as criminal. To suggest such a thing, especially as it relates to Obama himself, makes you a racist. But I digress. Just when I thought that the entire black population had fallen under the spell of this corrupt and criminal president, I am pleased to say that I take comfort and considerable consolation with what I've seen coming out of Charleston, South Carolina. Nine blacks were gunned down at a church meeting by a lunatic who wanted nothing more than to start a race war in the space of time it took to reload his gun 5 times. That community wanted nothing to do with the Sharpton's of the world and while he was packing his bags to make the trip they disinvited him. While the president of the United States immediately decried gun violence and the need to further restrict people's rights under the second amendment the good and decent people of Charleston, South Carolina held hands and asked for nothing more than an opportunity to heal as a community. Blacks and whites alike joined hands and hearts and shared stories of the good souls now departed. No one took to the streets rioting and looting; no one carried banners looking to further ignite racial tensions; no one looked to the likes of Sharpton or Jesse Jackson to speak for them; they carried on like they always have. They asked but one question when faced with the unbelievable brutality leveled against their brethren; what would the baby Jesus do? To a person, they spoke of forgiveness. Love and forgiveness. There is hope for our country yet.
The Sugar Blues
14/06/15 07:34
Not sure what kind of animal keeps emptying out our hummingbird feeder but it is highly annoying. It looks like whatever is doing it is doing it by tipping the feeder to one side or another to get to the sugary red-colored concoction inside. I have an idea. I'll secure the base of the feeder with something so that it can't be tipped. This is a "Are you Smarter than a Fifth grader" moment so I don't want to get it wrong. If the Wright brothers, a couple of bike mechanics by trade, can invent manned flight then I ought to be able to figure this out. I suppose I could get one of those cameras that starts recording when there is activity at the feeder so I can start by figuring out what kind of creature we're dealing with. If it's a deer, then maybe I get some kind of deer repellant and focus my attention away from the feeder itself. I mean, how ingenious do I have to be? It's bad enough that while we saw hummingbirds in spades early on this season, they seem to have moved on although I catch sight of one or two now and then. I gave up long ago trying to figure out if we have return guests year after year because I simply haven't done the homework to make the identifications. They all look alike. Right? Wrong. Then there is the possibility that they are raising their nestlings and when that happens they stay closer to the nest. Just don't know. As long as Nancy maintains an interest in the birds and all the related paraphernalia I will do my best to stay involved in a loving and caring capacity. I still can't help but wonder, what would the Wright brothers do?
This has been a bit of an odd duck of a day. Nan went to work in town and expects to be home later in the afternoon. I always try to make the best of my time alone but sometimes it just depends on how I feel. Last Monday, when I had the day off and Nancy didn't I busied myself in the house the better part of the day. It was non-stop. It certainly felt good to get a lot of things done and I was a man on a mission. As I sit here today I can't remember half of the things I did but I know they were important and I know that I was particularly proud of my accomplishments. Today, well that's another story. I think I started feeling a little under the weather yesterday when I took my bike ride in the morning. Nancy went to the annual Market Square day in Portsmouth and I took a bike ride after going to a local Valvoline to get my tires rotated. It felt a little flu-ish to be honest. I thought that if I pushed myself that I could squeeze the ride in before succumbing to a full scale bout of the flu. Not unexpectedly, I felt worse after my ride but was satisfied I got the ride in. Today, I'll ride with Nancy when she gets home but have otherwise spent the better part of the day in bed. I'm well enough now, or just tired of laying in bed, and have prepared myself a large iced coffee made with cold brewed coffee from Trader Joes. Fill your cup a third with the cold brew; a third with water, and a third with milk and give it a good shake. Out-fucking-standing!
I really need to have a come-to-Jesus talk with myself about sugar. God, that stuff is insidious. The more you eat the more you want. The more you want the more you find ways to ingest it. You have to make a concerted effort to avoid the damn stuff if you want to stay healthy. Staying healthy is a full time job. Don't let anyone kid you. I'm not a label reader so I don't track grams of sodium, sugar, and all the rest but I know enough to know that you just need to stay away from certain things when you're trying to keep your diet on the up and up. Something as simple as fruit, while seemingly healthy and proper, can spike your blood sugars and encourage you at the same time to consume even greater quantities of foods that are sugary and dreadfully bad for you. I know I'm getting off the wagon when I start eating things like white bread (BLT's only), handfuls of fruit like blueberries and strawberries right out of the fridge, and crackers laden with cheese, hummus, and god only knows what else. You can feel the badness! I used to think that I needed to avoid the very worse things like high fructose sugar and preservatives like BHA, BHT, etc. and that's true. But the chemists have been hard at work finding ways to get consumers to buy and consume even greater quantities of their products and they have been largely successful. Try walking through the supermarket when you're hungry and tell me that your cravings are not out of control. That's just one example. Today is the first day of the rest of my life so I'm going sugar free to break the bond. I feel better already. Maybe that's the cold brew talking. Keep talking, baby! I'm all ears.
This has been a bit of an odd duck of a day. Nan went to work in town and expects to be home later in the afternoon. I always try to make the best of my time alone but sometimes it just depends on how I feel. Last Monday, when I had the day off and Nancy didn't I busied myself in the house the better part of the day. It was non-stop. It certainly felt good to get a lot of things done and I was a man on a mission. As I sit here today I can't remember half of the things I did but I know they were important and I know that I was particularly proud of my accomplishments. Today, well that's another story. I think I started feeling a little under the weather yesterday when I took my bike ride in the morning. Nancy went to the annual Market Square day in Portsmouth and I took a bike ride after going to a local Valvoline to get my tires rotated. It felt a little flu-ish to be honest. I thought that if I pushed myself that I could squeeze the ride in before succumbing to a full scale bout of the flu. Not unexpectedly, I felt worse after my ride but was satisfied I got the ride in. Today, I'll ride with Nancy when she gets home but have otherwise spent the better part of the day in bed. I'm well enough now, or just tired of laying in bed, and have prepared myself a large iced coffee made with cold brewed coffee from Trader Joes. Fill your cup a third with the cold brew; a third with water, and a third with milk and give it a good shake. Out-fucking-standing!
I really need to have a come-to-Jesus talk with myself about sugar. God, that stuff is insidious. The more you eat the more you want. The more you want the more you find ways to ingest it. You have to make a concerted effort to avoid the damn stuff if you want to stay healthy. Staying healthy is a full time job. Don't let anyone kid you. I'm not a label reader so I don't track grams of sodium, sugar, and all the rest but I know enough to know that you just need to stay away from certain things when you're trying to keep your diet on the up and up. Something as simple as fruit, while seemingly healthy and proper, can spike your blood sugars and encourage you at the same time to consume even greater quantities of foods that are sugary and dreadfully bad for you. I know I'm getting off the wagon when I start eating things like white bread (BLT's only), handfuls of fruit like blueberries and strawberries right out of the fridge, and crackers laden with cheese, hummus, and god only knows what else. You can feel the badness! I used to think that I needed to avoid the very worse things like high fructose sugar and preservatives like BHA, BHT, etc. and that's true. But the chemists have been hard at work finding ways to get consumers to buy and consume even greater quantities of their products and they have been largely successful. Try walking through the supermarket when you're hungry and tell me that your cravings are not out of control. That's just one example. Today is the first day of the rest of my life so I'm going sugar free to break the bond. I feel better already. Maybe that's the cold brew talking. Keep talking, baby! I'm all ears.
Swordfish Anyone?
07/06/15 07:29
Bueno días, laddies. It's a lovely day here along the coast. The sun is out, the air is cool, and the morning full of promise. God knows there is a lot to do but all of that will have to wait. We'll be shooting up to Portland today to take in the town. Nancy and Deb will take in the stores and I will do my best to find a place to hunker down and maybe read a book while they shop. It's a pleasant destination for sure. A small town but the port area is dense with shops and restaurants that are worthy of taking in. Speaking of little surprises, Roberts restaurant in Kittery was a pleasant surprise last night. We were on a mission when we picked Deb and Mrs G up around 4. Deb had swordfish on the mind so we set out looking for a place to have some swordfish. That was not an easy task. More difficult certainly than I would have thought at this time of the year with tourists swarming the seacoast and every species of fish imaginable to be found at the local fish stores. Maybe it's all in my head. Just last weekend they were explaining to us that the harbor in Rye was quiet due to the fishing restrictions place on commercial and non-commercial fisherman alike. Stocks are just not where they should be and the federal government is stepping in to limit the take. So, the boats don't go out; the boats that take the occasional angler out to see what they can catch never leave the pier; and certain species of fish never make it to market.
We stopped by Warrens in Kittery and I was reminded why we stopped going there so many years ago. It was dreadful and I'm not sure the decor has been updated since the 50's. One might think that would add to the character of the joint but it was an unpleasant distraction. From every appearance, they had replaced wooden chairs that were beyond repair with plastic tables and chairs giving the place a disjointed and cheesy feel. They had clearly fallen out of step with the competition and either didn't care or thought that their salad bar, the only restaurant featuring a full salad bar on the seacoast, would keep their customers coming back. Every restaurant has its regulars and Warrens is probably no different. If you go often enough you don't notice the absence of change. Your favorite place by the window looks and feels the same and the surroundings are like a familiar blanket. You don't notice that each and every time you go there that it is a little more decrepit, a little more insidious, and ultimately out of step with the times. You're hooked, so to speak. But we stayed. Long enough to find out that they did not have swordfish on the menu and then we were gone. Can't imagine why we would ever return. Makes you wonder how long Warren has been dead. I wonder if anyone still asks for him.
But Roberts, that place was a gem. Right smack dab in the middle of the malls in Kittery. Who would have thought that such a place existed? Anyone in their right mind would be well served to avoid restaurants on the beaten path and clearly the Kittery malls are on the beaten path. I wouldn't blame the restaurant for serving up swinish dishes for the masses just to turn a profit. Who cares? The customers are here today and gone tomorrow. You are competing with all of the other restaurants on the strip who have the same game plan but slightly different menus. After all, your customers are in town to spend money and have worked up an appetite going in and out of the local stores. What little money they have left will be spent in your establishment so make the best of it and turn over the tables as quickly as possible. That is what the wait staff who barely make minimum wage get paid for. They are ushers in a turnstile operation taking tickets and showing people the door once they've finished. "If there is nothing else, sir." That is what I expected as we walked into Roberts but was not ultimately the sum and substance of our experience. Just the contrary, actually.
The first indication was the cadence with which our waitress recited the specials. Her recitation did not spill out breathlessly like she had ten orders waiting under the heat lamps back in the kitchen. Granted, her station or what might have passed for her station was not yet full so she had no need to be hurried. We had a nice table by the a window where if you looked out at just the right angle you were privileged to take in the waterways that winded snakelike behind the restaurant through protected wetlands surrounded by golden grasses and bordered by grand pines standing guard on the horizon. The hostess maintained her lovely smile as we turned down one table after another until we were satisfied with our final choice. If she were a day over fifteen I would have been surprised. Every party has one or more people who, no doubt, reminded her of her own extended family be it a grandmother, a mother, a brother or a sister. They are still children and every party is another family reunion to celebrate, cherish, and embrace. Gone are the battle hardened hostesses who view their customers with suspicion and subliminal disgust. But I digress.
The menu choices, while not featuring swordfish, offered many other items worthy of our consideration. Everything else seemed so pleasant that we were not moved to leave after finding out that they didn't have swordfish on the menu. While Deb thought that the third time might be the charm as Robert's was the third restaurant we stepped into last evening, she was right about the charm but wrong about the swordfish. The place was bright and cheerful but not overly busy and we were happy to be settling in. Nancy and I shared a blueberry vodka drink while Deb had a frothy and fruity something that she found very much to her liking. Sometimes, you can tell a book by its cover and, similarly, you can tell a restaurant by its menu. The choices were sparse but balanced. Verbiage was added to the menu communicating the sources and rationale behind the choices which made everything seem that much more delectable. Price points became meaningless and we ordered without any consideration for price or value. We were in capable hands and more than happy to leave the sculpting of our experience to the inestimable talents of Robert's and their staff. We were not disappointed. And conversation about trips to Alaska, significant others who don't care for flying, the absence of swordfish even, came and went throughout the evening. We didn't stay longer than it took to have a bite to eat but we did enjoy ourselves and we will return to Robert's. Unquestionably, we will return.
We stopped by Warrens in Kittery and I was reminded why we stopped going there so many years ago. It was dreadful and I'm not sure the decor has been updated since the 50's. One might think that would add to the character of the joint but it was an unpleasant distraction. From every appearance, they had replaced wooden chairs that were beyond repair with plastic tables and chairs giving the place a disjointed and cheesy feel. They had clearly fallen out of step with the competition and either didn't care or thought that their salad bar, the only restaurant featuring a full salad bar on the seacoast, would keep their customers coming back. Every restaurant has its regulars and Warrens is probably no different. If you go often enough you don't notice the absence of change. Your favorite place by the window looks and feels the same and the surroundings are like a familiar blanket. You don't notice that each and every time you go there that it is a little more decrepit, a little more insidious, and ultimately out of step with the times. You're hooked, so to speak. But we stayed. Long enough to find out that they did not have swordfish on the menu and then we were gone. Can't imagine why we would ever return. Makes you wonder how long Warren has been dead. I wonder if anyone still asks for him.
But Roberts, that place was a gem. Right smack dab in the middle of the malls in Kittery. Who would have thought that such a place existed? Anyone in their right mind would be well served to avoid restaurants on the beaten path and clearly the Kittery malls are on the beaten path. I wouldn't blame the restaurant for serving up swinish dishes for the masses just to turn a profit. Who cares? The customers are here today and gone tomorrow. You are competing with all of the other restaurants on the strip who have the same game plan but slightly different menus. After all, your customers are in town to spend money and have worked up an appetite going in and out of the local stores. What little money they have left will be spent in your establishment so make the best of it and turn over the tables as quickly as possible. That is what the wait staff who barely make minimum wage get paid for. They are ushers in a turnstile operation taking tickets and showing people the door once they've finished. "If there is nothing else, sir." That is what I expected as we walked into Roberts but was not ultimately the sum and substance of our experience. Just the contrary, actually.
The first indication was the cadence with which our waitress recited the specials. Her recitation did not spill out breathlessly like she had ten orders waiting under the heat lamps back in the kitchen. Granted, her station or what might have passed for her station was not yet full so she had no need to be hurried. We had a nice table by the a window where if you looked out at just the right angle you were privileged to take in the waterways that winded snakelike behind the restaurant through protected wetlands surrounded by golden grasses and bordered by grand pines standing guard on the horizon. The hostess maintained her lovely smile as we turned down one table after another until we were satisfied with our final choice. If she were a day over fifteen I would have been surprised. Every party has one or more people who, no doubt, reminded her of her own extended family be it a grandmother, a mother, a brother or a sister. They are still children and every party is another family reunion to celebrate, cherish, and embrace. Gone are the battle hardened hostesses who view their customers with suspicion and subliminal disgust. But I digress.
The menu choices, while not featuring swordfish, offered many other items worthy of our consideration. Everything else seemed so pleasant that we were not moved to leave after finding out that they didn't have swordfish on the menu. While Deb thought that the third time might be the charm as Robert's was the third restaurant we stepped into last evening, she was right about the charm but wrong about the swordfish. The place was bright and cheerful but not overly busy and we were happy to be settling in. Nancy and I shared a blueberry vodka drink while Deb had a frothy and fruity something that she found very much to her liking. Sometimes, you can tell a book by its cover and, similarly, you can tell a restaurant by its menu. The choices were sparse but balanced. Verbiage was added to the menu communicating the sources and rationale behind the choices which made everything seem that much more delectable. Price points became meaningless and we ordered without any consideration for price or value. We were in capable hands and more than happy to leave the sculpting of our experience to the inestimable talents of Robert's and their staff. We were not disappointed. And conversation about trips to Alaska, significant others who don't care for flying, the absence of swordfish even, came and went throughout the evening. We didn't stay longer than it took to have a bite to eat but we did enjoy ourselves and we will return to Robert's. Unquestionably, we will return.
Gainesville Bound
24/05/15 07:38
Well, here we are. Alive and well in Gainseville, Fla. It was a bit if a chore getting down here but that is all in the rear view mirror now. It doesn't matter that I was feeling a little claustrophobic on the plane coming down. More so once we finally arrived and we were sitting on the tarmac waiting for an open gate. Where did that come from. I do get that way from time to time but it's rare and that's ok with me. It is a creepy feeling. I had visions of pushing my way to the exits only to be tackled by the Southwest employees and taken off the plane by U.S. Marshals. I thought about closing my eyes and taking refuge in music on my iPad but thought it better not to give in to my fears lest they come back even stronger the next time.
The one thing I always enjoy when arriving in Florida is the amazing change in the whole flora and fauna thing. The palm trees sing out to me in their lazy southern voices with elephant sized leaves fluttering in the gentle tropical breezes and welcome me once again to paradise. It looks different. It feels different. It is different. I understand the attraction that this state and its environs hold for writers, derelicts, and people who just want to go someplace where they can lose themselves in themselves. Maybe it's a combination of the change in vegetation and a change in climate. Not sure exactly but it's good to be back all of those things notwithstanding.
I've noticed as well that the women down here tend to wear perfume more so than their counterparts in the North. Just call me Mr. Sensitivity. I find this to be ever so slightly annoying. A fella can't have a decent cup of coffee without catching a whiff of some highly toxic perfume. I love the aroma of coffee and that may well be part of the overall experience so adding a virulent stench of perfume is not my idea of a good time.
But, I digress. Seems that Ev's blood sugars have not been right and have not been right for quite some time. How does that boy expect to function when he's in denial about this whole GD business. It just isn't happening. According to Weinstein, his denying this business has been part of the problem and not part of the solution. It has everything to do with the other peripheral issues that we've seen in Ev over the last several months. It is a good thing as well that he has purged himself of the poisons that he was taking thinking all along that these were good for him and would put him on the path to wellness. We know better now but it took a while to sort it all out. And now, it is all coming full circle. Even Weinstein had to start at the beginning with the diagrams, the explanations, the encouragements, and the sit-downs.
That may well explain too the business about creating an environment where his requirements never exceeded that which his body was capable of meeting or exceeding. If your blood sugars are never in check, then you are likely to feel less energetic, less likely to want to engage with the world around you so you go into a self imposed hibernation. And then you limit yourself even further by wanting no part of certain things that could do you harm in your weakened condition. That is not an easy task when these are things that offer you a sometimes pleasant and sometimes destructive distraction. Taking it one step further, you start to put up walls with people who were once friends when you discover that the distractions you shared were ones that you are now trying to avoid.
Weinstein called our cell at some point during the first day and wanted to tell us the good news. He thinks that Evan is doing great. He thinks that the problems we've seen to date are related to the blood sugar issue and that all of his interactions with Evan suggest that none of the other peripheral issues come even close to being true or otherwise contributing to his present day problems. It is something Evan needs to stop denying and that appears to be a large part of the overall game plan. None of his friends have ever known and that has been of his choosing and not for us to question.
His business is his business however he chooses to conduct it and we as his parents have never questioned that aspect of his life. When he hides it, he invites disaster and that has to stop. He has to tell his friends that he can no longer do things that they once did to excess because his body will not tolerate it. These are destructive things that he can no longer indulge in to excess as he once did. It is true that he has come to this realization on his own but now there are even bigger issues for him to address and perhaps bigger than we realized when we stepped on to that plane just two days ago. We'll know more in the days to come but are hopeful that he and we can get back on track so he can have a normal life. Maybe what they say is true. Today is the first day of the rest of his life.
I have to say that I'm a few days now into my vacation which I didn't expect to be much of a vacation because I was not going to be doing something of my choosing. I was a reluctant passenger on a trip that I had no interest in and actually resisted but thought better of it given what we were needing to accomplish. I thought the end result would be the same. His work-ups would be better than normal and the Dr. would give him a few tips on avoiding things that weren't good for him and we would be on our way. We are taking greater comfort in his assessment and determination that this is something that Evan can fix so we are wanting to share his enthusiasm and we now have renewed hope so I'm glad to have made the trip. I think the translation had I not come might not have worked and that would have been a mistake. It is perhaps now more important than ever that Evan has our support and that we both understand as his parents the peril that he faces if he fails to do what he needs to do.
But I am enjoying the other things that I was not prepared to enjoy in coming down here. I love the climes here in Florida and there is just something very alluring about this state that keeps calling me back. We had a terrific dinner last night, just Nancy and I, at the Bonefish Grill here in Gainesville. I ordered the arctic char and Nancy had a chicken dish. That surprised me since she enjoys fish and will order it over chicken in most cases. My meal was served with a spinach fettuccine strewn with peas and string beans. I could have passed on the beans but enjoyed the pasta although it was a bit too buttery. A little parmesan cheese might have been nice. What kind of restaurant serves pasta without parmesan cheese? I ordered some tuna sushi as well and that was equally as delightful although they never give you enough pickled ginger when serving up that dish and it is just something you can't re-request. Even though I never order dessert anywhere I ordered some key lime pie which Nancy and I shared and found to be unbelievably good.
It was a sultry night in Gainesville last evening and you could see heat lightning flashing across the southern sky on the horizon where storm clouds had been gathering the better part of the day. It was not so threatening that we didn't feel like taking a quick walk before calling it a night so that is precisely what we did. The malls line up here on Archer Road back to back for as far as the eye can see and they offer a variety of routes and distractions for those interested in one or both. The night was warm enough where we lingered in doorways of stores and shops along the route just long enough to feel the air conditioning touch our skin and we were on our way once again. We walked in and out of stores and up and down aisles to walk off our dinner and take in the sights and sounds of a Gainesville that could have just as easily been anywhere USA. A Target store is a Target store whether you are in a New Hampshire or Gainesville, Florida. But these stores were cool and offered a pleasant respite to a couple of otherwise weary travelers who were looking to pass away the time before letting another day go into the night.
Remind me not to stay in a Lodge Hotel again. It was drab from the get go. The hallways leading to our room were indicative of the room we were about to occupy for the better part of two days and the only difference was that the rooms were far cooler than the hallways. The drabness was an insidious drabness infiltrating every nook of the hotel that we could see. Nancy wondered aloud at one point if the hotel clerk didn't put us into a room that was less than desirable because of our racial profile. It would come as no surprise in the wake of the Ferguson, Baltimore, and other incidents across our nation where hordes of rioting blacks push back against what they would have you believe to be racially motivated attacks against blacks and other minority groups. That will never excuse or explain the actions of these so called protesters as they assemble in the thousands chanting, "What do we want"? "Dead cops" "When do we want it"? "Now!" So, to think that we are not now or ever targeted however they do this is just plain silliness. And tonight, we will move to another hotel and trust that decisions made are made not on the basis of race but rather on the basis of what is or what is not available.
This vacation is also a chance to think a little bit about what I may want to do come fall. I'll need to find something new and interesting to occupy my free time. I find that even while on vacation that with each passing day I have a little more energy and a little more oomph. It is kind of a mental energy that is otherwise reserved for work related matters that I ignore when I'm not working and tap without reservation when I find it too much to ignore. Maybe that is why the two week vacation thing is so desirable for those who have the time and resources to pursue. You get to think about things that you wouldn't otherwise think about; do things that you wouldn't otherwise do; and pursue things that you wouldn't otherwise pursue. Maybe as I get older too I have less tolerance for spending time on things that are of lesser value or perhaps put differently extracting the maximum value out of the time put in to whatever it is that I turn my attention to. I'm not sure about traveling. Is it something I would like? Not like? I do enjoy a change of scenery from time to time and it helps to break the monotony however one defines that. Just having the freedom to consider a life of leisure is a good thing. Maybe it's a great thing. Maybe one day I'll look back and wonder why I spent as many years as I did doing something that in retrospect was not time well spent. Truth be told, I am not one to ever look in the rear view mirror so would probably not go there in any meaningful way. To reminisce, perhaps. To regret, never.
We are a year and a half away from the 2016 presidential election and there must be a dozen or more candidates lining up on the republican side of the aisle while there is only Hillary Clinton on the democratic side. With issues mounting left and right by press corps following both camps, it is clear that there are far more serious questions about Hillary Clinton and her influence buying schemes while she was Secretary of State than any candidates on either side. The tenor of those relationships is incestuous as best and the beneficiaries of the foundation at the center of all these questions is none other than Bill and Hillary Clinton. She has been campaigning now for 30 days and has not taken any questions from the press. We're talking about the leftist press that makes no bones about which party they favor and which political philosophy they favor for the country. It is a socialistic philosophy they favor where the government holds all the power and the people have less and less say in what and how government operates. The press wants to be on the right side when one party government rules the day and the constitution is nothing more than a document to interpret in order to serve the greater cause of liberalism. My guess is that Ms. Clinton will not be the nominee as time goes on and her candidacy will collapse under the sheer weight of the evidence mounting against her. I'm just waiting for the other high heel to drop.
The one thing I always enjoy when arriving in Florida is the amazing change in the whole flora and fauna thing. The palm trees sing out to me in their lazy southern voices with elephant sized leaves fluttering in the gentle tropical breezes and welcome me once again to paradise. It looks different. It feels different. It is different. I understand the attraction that this state and its environs hold for writers, derelicts, and people who just want to go someplace where they can lose themselves in themselves. Maybe it's a combination of the change in vegetation and a change in climate. Not sure exactly but it's good to be back all of those things notwithstanding.
I've noticed as well that the women down here tend to wear perfume more so than their counterparts in the North. Just call me Mr. Sensitivity. I find this to be ever so slightly annoying. A fella can't have a decent cup of coffee without catching a whiff of some highly toxic perfume. I love the aroma of coffee and that may well be part of the overall experience so adding a virulent stench of perfume is not my idea of a good time.
But, I digress. Seems that Ev's blood sugars have not been right and have not been right for quite some time. How does that boy expect to function when he's in denial about this whole GD business. It just isn't happening. According to Weinstein, his denying this business has been part of the problem and not part of the solution. It has everything to do with the other peripheral issues that we've seen in Ev over the last several months. It is a good thing as well that he has purged himself of the poisons that he was taking thinking all along that these were good for him and would put him on the path to wellness. We know better now but it took a while to sort it all out. And now, it is all coming full circle. Even Weinstein had to start at the beginning with the diagrams, the explanations, the encouragements, and the sit-downs.
That may well explain too the business about creating an environment where his requirements never exceeded that which his body was capable of meeting or exceeding. If your blood sugars are never in check, then you are likely to feel less energetic, less likely to want to engage with the world around you so you go into a self imposed hibernation. And then you limit yourself even further by wanting no part of certain things that could do you harm in your weakened condition. That is not an easy task when these are things that offer you a sometimes pleasant and sometimes destructive distraction. Taking it one step further, you start to put up walls with people who were once friends when you discover that the distractions you shared were ones that you are now trying to avoid.
Weinstein called our cell at some point during the first day and wanted to tell us the good news. He thinks that Evan is doing great. He thinks that the problems we've seen to date are related to the blood sugar issue and that all of his interactions with Evan suggest that none of the other peripheral issues come even close to being true or otherwise contributing to his present day problems. It is something Evan needs to stop denying and that appears to be a large part of the overall game plan. None of his friends have ever known and that has been of his choosing and not for us to question.
His business is his business however he chooses to conduct it and we as his parents have never questioned that aspect of his life. When he hides it, he invites disaster and that has to stop. He has to tell his friends that he can no longer do things that they once did to excess because his body will not tolerate it. These are destructive things that he can no longer indulge in to excess as he once did. It is true that he has come to this realization on his own but now there are even bigger issues for him to address and perhaps bigger than we realized when we stepped on to that plane just two days ago. We'll know more in the days to come but are hopeful that he and we can get back on track so he can have a normal life. Maybe what they say is true. Today is the first day of the rest of his life.
I have to say that I'm a few days now into my vacation which I didn't expect to be much of a vacation because I was not going to be doing something of my choosing. I was a reluctant passenger on a trip that I had no interest in and actually resisted but thought better of it given what we were needing to accomplish. I thought the end result would be the same. His work-ups would be better than normal and the Dr. would give him a few tips on avoiding things that weren't good for him and we would be on our way. We are taking greater comfort in his assessment and determination that this is something that Evan can fix so we are wanting to share his enthusiasm and we now have renewed hope so I'm glad to have made the trip. I think the translation had I not come might not have worked and that would have been a mistake. It is perhaps now more important than ever that Evan has our support and that we both understand as his parents the peril that he faces if he fails to do what he needs to do.
But I am enjoying the other things that I was not prepared to enjoy in coming down here. I love the climes here in Florida and there is just something very alluring about this state that keeps calling me back. We had a terrific dinner last night, just Nancy and I, at the Bonefish Grill here in Gainesville. I ordered the arctic char and Nancy had a chicken dish. That surprised me since she enjoys fish and will order it over chicken in most cases. My meal was served with a spinach fettuccine strewn with peas and string beans. I could have passed on the beans but enjoyed the pasta although it was a bit too buttery. A little parmesan cheese might have been nice. What kind of restaurant serves pasta without parmesan cheese? I ordered some tuna sushi as well and that was equally as delightful although they never give you enough pickled ginger when serving up that dish and it is just something you can't re-request. Even though I never order dessert anywhere I ordered some key lime pie which Nancy and I shared and found to be unbelievably good.
It was a sultry night in Gainesville last evening and you could see heat lightning flashing across the southern sky on the horizon where storm clouds had been gathering the better part of the day. It was not so threatening that we didn't feel like taking a quick walk before calling it a night so that is precisely what we did. The malls line up here on Archer Road back to back for as far as the eye can see and they offer a variety of routes and distractions for those interested in one or both. The night was warm enough where we lingered in doorways of stores and shops along the route just long enough to feel the air conditioning touch our skin and we were on our way once again. We walked in and out of stores and up and down aisles to walk off our dinner and take in the sights and sounds of a Gainesville that could have just as easily been anywhere USA. A Target store is a Target store whether you are in a New Hampshire or Gainesville, Florida. But these stores were cool and offered a pleasant respite to a couple of otherwise weary travelers who were looking to pass away the time before letting another day go into the night.
Remind me not to stay in a Lodge Hotel again. It was drab from the get go. The hallways leading to our room were indicative of the room we were about to occupy for the better part of two days and the only difference was that the rooms were far cooler than the hallways. The drabness was an insidious drabness infiltrating every nook of the hotel that we could see. Nancy wondered aloud at one point if the hotel clerk didn't put us into a room that was less than desirable because of our racial profile. It would come as no surprise in the wake of the Ferguson, Baltimore, and other incidents across our nation where hordes of rioting blacks push back against what they would have you believe to be racially motivated attacks against blacks and other minority groups. That will never excuse or explain the actions of these so called protesters as they assemble in the thousands chanting, "What do we want"? "Dead cops" "When do we want it"? "Now!" So, to think that we are not now or ever targeted however they do this is just plain silliness. And tonight, we will move to another hotel and trust that decisions made are made not on the basis of race but rather on the basis of what is or what is not available.
This vacation is also a chance to think a little bit about what I may want to do come fall. I'll need to find something new and interesting to occupy my free time. I find that even while on vacation that with each passing day I have a little more energy and a little more oomph. It is kind of a mental energy that is otherwise reserved for work related matters that I ignore when I'm not working and tap without reservation when I find it too much to ignore. Maybe that is why the two week vacation thing is so desirable for those who have the time and resources to pursue. You get to think about things that you wouldn't otherwise think about; do things that you wouldn't otherwise do; and pursue things that you wouldn't otherwise pursue. Maybe as I get older too I have less tolerance for spending time on things that are of lesser value or perhaps put differently extracting the maximum value out of the time put in to whatever it is that I turn my attention to. I'm not sure about traveling. Is it something I would like? Not like? I do enjoy a change of scenery from time to time and it helps to break the monotony however one defines that. Just having the freedom to consider a life of leisure is a good thing. Maybe it's a great thing. Maybe one day I'll look back and wonder why I spent as many years as I did doing something that in retrospect was not time well spent. Truth be told, I am not one to ever look in the rear view mirror so would probably not go there in any meaningful way. To reminisce, perhaps. To regret, never.
We are a year and a half away from the 2016 presidential election and there must be a dozen or more candidates lining up on the republican side of the aisle while there is only Hillary Clinton on the democratic side. With issues mounting left and right by press corps following both camps, it is clear that there are far more serious questions about Hillary Clinton and her influence buying schemes while she was Secretary of State than any candidates on either side. The tenor of those relationships is incestuous as best and the beneficiaries of the foundation at the center of all these questions is none other than Bill and Hillary Clinton. She has been campaigning now for 30 days and has not taken any questions from the press. We're talking about the leftist press that makes no bones about which party they favor and which political philosophy they favor for the country. It is a socialistic philosophy they favor where the government holds all the power and the people have less and less say in what and how government operates. The press wants to be on the right side when one party government rules the day and the constitution is nothing more than a document to interpret in order to serve the greater cause of liberalism. My guess is that Ms. Clinton will not be the nominee as time goes on and her candidacy will collapse under the sheer weight of the evidence mounting against her. I'm just waiting for the other high heel to drop.
Thursday, May 21 2015
Maybe it will just be the same old same old. Ev stayed one night and not two and that was his choice. The only reason to stay two was to reinforce key pieces of the message that was communicated to Evan while he was there in the hospital. He wasn't out of the place two minutes when he seemed to lapse into his old ways. It was like he forgot everything he had been told and was now resorting to his old ways. Let's be clear. He wasn't there for an attitude shift so we shouldn't be surprised that we didn't see a shift in his attitude. Where is dad? Why is he in Starbucks? When they finally caught up with me Evan didn't come into the store but rather stood outside looking in while Nancy and I did what we did. Now that he is on his new regimen we'll see if that produces any positive effects. We're hopeful but not overly optimistic so we'll just have to let things play out for a while and see.
I'm rather liking the heat down here in Florida and am not finding it overly oppressive. It may be too early in the season for the suffocating humidity that one finds during the summer months here so I'm just as happy to be ahead of that schedule by a month or two. Evan didn't want to join us for dinner last night so Nancy and I went to the Dragonfly Sake restaurant in downtown Gainesville without him. We would not have gone there had he been with us so it was just as well that he chose to stay behind since I was very interested in having a bite to eat there. It was a shi-shi kind of place and we had to wait a bit to get seated but not too long. One of these days I'm going to learn to use chopsticks so I can go to these places and not feel out of place asking for utensils. I wondered for a brief moment whether the people who appeared to be using them so effortlessly were really as adept as they looked when using them. I guess the true test is that you can move food from your plate to your mouth without dropping anything and I can honestly say that I didn't detect any slippage when observing those I observed.
The serving style seemed to be somewhere between tapas and dim sum and our waitress may have alluded to that when she arrived at our table. I love both dim sum and tapas but didn't quite honestly see how that applied to the items we were planing on ordering from the menu. We had tables on either side of us where the parties dining had either multiple items on their table served all at once or a constant flow of dishes served one after the other all quite delicious looking and I wondered which items on the menu I was seeing. I was also quite astounded as well at the amount of food they were consuming and I thought that maybe that the real art to eating raw fish and the like was not how much you could eat but the order in which you ate them that allowed you to consume large quantities of food without gorging yourself like an ugly American.
It goes without saying that the dishes were artistically and strategically paced and placed by the chefs working at their craft behind the open counter. The colors, the serving dishes, the ambiance, nothing was left to chance. In hindsight, I should have left the selection of dishes not to chance but to the waitress who waited on our table. I had a "chef's choice" dish where one or two of the selections were something that I would not order again. At the end of the day, I don't care how good it looks. If it doesn't tastes good then it doesn't pass the test. I'll be more careful next time. That may mean leaving the selection of dishes up to the person serving our dinner. I also ordered a rather exquisite tequila cocktail that was served in a small glass with a disproportionately large ice cube plunked into the center of the glass. It was the proverbial square peg placed in a round hole and the fit was perfect. I'm not a big fan of alcohol but the drink brought about the desired effect so that was good. Nancy is not a fan of raw fish so found an item on the menu to her liking which I ended up eating instead. She was not all that hungry to begin with so that worked out fine. 
This is our last full day here in Florida and we'll be driving to Orlando this afternoon where we'll spend our last day before catching our plane tomorrow morning at 11. Nancy wondered aloud here and there about whether or not she had been caught on camera going through a yellow light and fretted just a bit about getting a ticket in the mail after we arrive home. The lights do change rather quickly and there was something on the news here about having to reimburse motorists for lights that had been tweaked too tightly creating a situation where you couldn't avoid going through it no matter how hard you tried. Since seeing that piece on the television we see cameras everywhere. At every intersection; at every corner;and at every stop light in any stretch of highway here in Gainesville. Is there no end to the intrusion of big government? Will they stop at nothing when it comes to monitoring and penalizing citizens and motorists alike? You may want to ask Rand Paul. He was filibustering as only he can to make sure that certain aspects of the Patriot Act, that of collecting cell phone data from American citizens, is not renewed when the Patriot Act is renewed. One more example of the difference between democrats and republicans where the democrats almost to a person voted to keep the Act intact while the republicans sought to dismantle the most odious aspects of it, i.e. the spying and collecting of data. That can't hurt his chances in his run for president. Makes me wonder how the millennials feel about this sort of thing.
Friday, May 22nd, 2015
Buenos dias! Kuhner is talking up Ted Cruz this morning on WRKO. He has been my candidate from day one so glad someone is finally taking notice. What do you think his chances are of getting the latino vote? Well, maybe not all of it but I'll bet you dollars to donuts that he gets 50%. How can he not get 50% with a name like Cruz? But, it's not all about having just the right name, is it. He has a different message for the latin community and one that offers a stark contrast to that offered by the Liberal establishment. It says that is you want to be successful, we will help you be successful. We will not enable and suppress you with government programs and handouts that tear down your communities and ruin your families and the hopes and desires of your generations to come. We will work with you to sustain your communities with independent thought and action that will embolden your leaders, strengthen your individual capabilities, and in the immortal words of Ronald Reagan, help you to pull yourself up by your bootstraps. It is a message of hope, not fear. It is a message of inclusion, not exclusion. It is a message of independence, not dependence. 
And you know that when the liberal press asks questions Mr. Cruz why he hates gays, that he will turn on them and put them in their place. He will expose them for the frauds that they are. It will not be an easy task. The media will assault Mr. Cruz with the full force of the liberal establishment behind them but they will not be successful. He will stand his ground as the righteous lion that he is in believing as he does in god, the constitution, and everything that is right. He will not go into office offering to his supporters the message of fundamentally transforming our country. Rather, he will no doubt offer to restore the greatness of our country that has so frayed and torn asunder under the miserable so-called leadership of Barack Obama. The policemen and women that keep order on the streets of our cities will regain the respect of their communities under President Cruz; He will work with the Congress to implement a health plan that benefits all americans and not just those under a certain income threshold; he will work to consolidate the love and trust of the many disparate communities that have been working at odds under Obama; and he will restore the concept of American exceptionalism that Obama watered down at every turn. Obama wanted us to be no better and no worse than the most miserable of banana republics and that will not be the battle cry of the American people once President Cruz takes office.
Sunday, May 24th 2015
It's good to be back on terra firm. Good to be back in the hood. Not so good that there is now lots on my plate. Things to do that I ignored while away but now they are front and center. What is with this cool weather? I think it's been in the sixties since we got back and it has definitely been sweater weather. Maybe even hat weather. Nana's mom spoke about having to bring in her plants at night because of the threat of frost. That might be pushing it a little bit but you know how older people fret about things from time to time that may make little or no sense to someone else. We were hoping to see more of Ev after his time in Gainesville but that does not seem to be the case. He is less annoyed perhaps when we do see him and that is due in no small measure to his new regimen. I thought maybe he was taking just as much CS but he is actually taking it not only more frequently but he is also taking more of it when he does take it. Not that it matters. He seems to take it without a problem so for that we should be grateful. Now we just need to get him motivated and into some other regimen where he and we feel better about the direction he is taking.
Nancy too seems to be having some difficulty getting back into the groove. Not that she misses Florida or anything because I think she doesn't. Both she and the Ev man commented that they didn't like Florida when we were down there. I was thinking to myself that they were being a bit sort sighted in making their comments and wondered if they would feel the same had we landed in the middle of February from New England to 80 degree temperatures, a full sun, and palm trees on every corner. Me thinks not. I was perfectly happy once there in taking walks, taking in the sights, and doing whatever I damn well felt like doing. I could see myself going there for periods at a time. Not so much in the summer, mind you, but once the weather turns cold I could see going there with some frequency. This is where having a private jet might come in handy. I'm glad we decided not to drive to Florida. We just would have been too tuckered once we arrived to do much of anything. As much as I might have missed driving through all of those lovely southern states with their peculiar offerings, pecan pies and fresh peaches in Georgia for example, that will have to wait for another day and time.
It will be back to work soon for another few months and then that is all she wrote. I will turn my attention elsewhere and that will be a good thing. Best not to get too ingrained in anything lest you make it the focal point of your life and then you wonder what will become of you when that focal point disappears. Like the drill press operator who does when he does for 45 years and then just stops working his drill press. Or, whatever drill press operators do. Not to sell them short or anything. I'm sure it's a perfectly wonderful occupation. I suppose if you were a writer that would be different. You wouldn't stop writing, would you? Or even a teacher. You might stop teaching or going into the classroom but you would always be teacher one way or another. I wouldn't even call what I do a discipline so do not have any habits bad or otherwise to break when I just stop doing what I do. And I think back to the early part of my life when I did a lot of different things and enjoyed the variety for many years before settling into my current profession. Reverting to the days when I made it up as I went along will be the order of the day going forward and I am comfortable with that charge. It is times like this when I'm off and away from my job that makes it easy to envision a day when I no longer go to the office every day. I'll keep practicing and thinking forward about other things. Other things that I only dream about now. Dreaming is where I'll go.
Spring Fling
19/04/15 07:40
We are off and running! Thank you sweet Jesus! We still have a little snow around but it is on the wane as they say. Nancy and I spent a bit of time in downtown Portsmouth last night having a bite to eat and just taking in the night. It's always a pleasure when you start out doing one thing and then you end up doing another. That assumes good things happen and I suppose that isn't always the case but it was last night. Good in the sense that we accomplished that which we were wanting to accomplish. The goal was simple; grab a bite to eat and get out of the house on what promised to be a beautiful spring evening. We started out with our sights set on Turkish food in Newington and ended up having Mexican fare in downtown Portsmouth. We had a couple of other errands to run but that all changed when I inadvertently put too much money in the parking meter when we arrived in Portsmouth.
We had a leisurely coffee in Starbucks, which usually never happens because we typically park in the 15 minute spot outside the store, and that set the pace for the rest of time we were there. Nancy looked around in a few stores, I dallied while she looked, and we ended up eating at Poco's where we hadn't been in a lot of years. The last time we were there they brought chips to the table straight away and you went from there. The calculus, no doubt, was that you would work up a serious thirst munching on salty chips and that would make you want more salt (get me a fucking Marguerita with salt on the rim and fast!) and something to wash it down with (icy cool and alcoholic works well) and if they are smart they keep the chips coming. Not so any more. You want chips, you buy chips. So, we bought chips. And we bought guacamole. And we ordered marguerita's. Well, just one actually. Nothing for me, thank you. And then we ordered some food which we really didn't need anymore but so what. It was Saturday, the night was young, the company and crowds were engaging, and that was that.
One little surprise was that we didn't have Nancy's mom along for the ride. She usually accompanies us on Saturday afternoon and we go here or there and do pretty well whatever damn well pleases us. Sometimes it's just going for a ride. Other times we end up having something to eat. So she called and spoke to Nancy. Something about not joining us since she was out at a local restaurant. Really? Say what, Mrs G? What up, dawg?? Did we just get stood up? Me thinks we did. Well, that changed the entire trajectory of the night or it felt that way anyway. Nancy and I were alone and on our own. It was a different kind of feeling. Not that having her along is a chore since it never is but having a third party in the mix changes the dynamic in any situation. I will say that this last minute change of plans was totally unexpected and left us puzzled, curious, tentative, and maybe a few other things that I'm not recalling as I sit here the morning after. It's wonderful certainly that Nancy's mom is too busy to spend time with us. It's wonderful that she has a circle of acquaintances with whom she does various and sundry things and it's all good. It may not be beyond the pale to think that maybe she has a boyfriend.
Mrs G has mentioned a fella in the past with whom she has exchanged pleasantries and as I recall they had a list of top five things that they had in common. Dining at the Dinnerghorn was one of those top five. I also remember her saying that she ran into him a couple of days later and he didn't remember who she was. Sad, but cute. If they are constantly reinventing their relationship it may be just what the doctor ordered. At 84, Mrs G is doing everything right or so it seems. My only recommendation is that she try to get a little more exercise. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that she is parlaying these relationships into something more formidable and long lasting. There is strength in numbers and it is true that life holds surprises for those willing to live it to the fullest. I suspect Mrs G is doing just that. Pursuing happiness at any cost. Is that not the challenge for each of us while we are on this lovely planet? I think so.
We had a leisurely coffee in Starbucks, which usually never happens because we typically park in the 15 minute spot outside the store, and that set the pace for the rest of time we were there. Nancy looked around in a few stores, I dallied while she looked, and we ended up eating at Poco's where we hadn't been in a lot of years. The last time we were there they brought chips to the table straight away and you went from there. The calculus, no doubt, was that you would work up a serious thirst munching on salty chips and that would make you want more salt (get me a fucking Marguerita with salt on the rim and fast!) and something to wash it down with (icy cool and alcoholic works well) and if they are smart they keep the chips coming. Not so any more. You want chips, you buy chips. So, we bought chips. And we bought guacamole. And we ordered marguerita's. Well, just one actually. Nothing for me, thank you. And then we ordered some food which we really didn't need anymore but so what. It was Saturday, the night was young, the company and crowds were engaging, and that was that.
One little surprise was that we didn't have Nancy's mom along for the ride. She usually accompanies us on Saturday afternoon and we go here or there and do pretty well whatever damn well pleases us. Sometimes it's just going for a ride. Other times we end up having something to eat. So she called and spoke to Nancy. Something about not joining us since she was out at a local restaurant. Really? Say what, Mrs G? What up, dawg?? Did we just get stood up? Me thinks we did. Well, that changed the entire trajectory of the night or it felt that way anyway. Nancy and I were alone and on our own. It was a different kind of feeling. Not that having her along is a chore since it never is but having a third party in the mix changes the dynamic in any situation. I will say that this last minute change of plans was totally unexpected and left us puzzled, curious, tentative, and maybe a few other things that I'm not recalling as I sit here the morning after. It's wonderful certainly that Nancy's mom is too busy to spend time with us. It's wonderful that she has a circle of acquaintances with whom she does various and sundry things and it's all good. It may not be beyond the pale to think that maybe she has a boyfriend.
Mrs G has mentioned a fella in the past with whom she has exchanged pleasantries and as I recall they had a list of top five things that they had in common. Dining at the Dinnerghorn was one of those top five. I also remember her saying that she ran into him a couple of days later and he didn't remember who she was. Sad, but cute. If they are constantly reinventing their relationship it may be just what the doctor ordered. At 84, Mrs G is doing everything right or so it seems. My only recommendation is that she try to get a little more exercise. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that she is parlaying these relationships into something more formidable and long lasting. There is strength in numbers and it is true that life holds surprises for those willing to live it to the fullest. I suspect Mrs G is doing just that. Pursuing happiness at any cost. Is that not the challenge for each of us while we are on this lovely planet? I think so.
Tweet Tweet
10/04/15 07:13
Winter is not going into the abyss without a struggle. Any hint of warmer days and sunny afternoons have been sporadic at best. I'm waking up to a day off with rain in the forecast and temperatures that may or may not reach 40 degrees. I'm also hugging my coffee cup a little more closely and sipping it a little more slowly than I might otherwise do on a sunny Spring morning. I've come to expect as much living here in New England so adjust my schedule and plans accordingly. I'm not against pushing the envelope and getting out on my bike if the temperatures are moderate enough and the rain is not heavy enough to blur my vision while riding. Not sure how the day is going to go as I sit here at 7:23 a.m. but it sure looks dismal just looking out the window. Maybe I will fill my day with tasks just to keep busy. Maybe I'll work in the garage for a while tidying up. I suppose I could run the gas out of the snow blower and maybe even run the generator for a while since I've not done that recently. When do you suppose Bluebirds, or any birds for that matter, might take up residence in the Bluebird house I gave to Nancy for her birthday? Day after day I peer out of various windows in the back of the house to see if I can catch a glimpse of any activity but have seen nothing. It is a fine birdhouse and would make a good home if only they were willing to give it a try. Perhaps they too are not convinced that Spring is willing or wanting to arrive in any meaningful way so have turned their attention to other things. Procreation can wait. We'll see. Mother Nature may have other plans.
I'm a little late to the social media scene but am now in with both feet. Listen to me. I'm quite full of myself after sending a couple of tweets. How funny is that? I should want to consider for a moment why I am so late to the scene that other generations have embraced so thoroughly. You can't turn a webpage or listen to a radio station without hearing a reference to certain social media applications such as Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, or Instagram. As for me, I've turned a deaf ear to all of them and perhaps to my detriment. As for Twitter, it appears to offer something that might very well be of interest to me. That is to say, a more immediate access to news from around the world and even in my backyard. An unfiltered and nearly spontaneous glimpse of reality that you will never find in the scrubbed versions of what they refer to as news in the local or national media. They have become distrusted, untimely, and just so yesterday. Now, they will become dismantled one by one and replaced with social media of one kind or another. For those who have something to say, and I am not without a voice, Twitter works well. It is a platform for a shout out, a criticism, an observation astute or otherwise, and a place to go when I want to hear all the news that is fit to post. My biggest challenge is finding and following the right hashtags. The good news is that it is fun to play in the Twitter sandbox since there are no sharp objects with which to hurt oneself. That said, I am cautious in my rants as the continuums on both sides of that equation run afoul of the acceptable sooner or later. And, as we all know now that Snowden has been outed, there is no such thing as privacy or anonymity.
You know I have to say something about politics. My morning would be incomplete were I to say nothing. So, today Hillary Clinton plans to announce her candidacy for the Presidency of the United States. God help us all. Has our country descended that far into lunacy that we have to even consider her as a candidate? The very prospect is on its face just too much to even contemplate. You'd like to think that our candidates have some higher moral or civil cause on which to base their desire to lead our country. You'd also like to think that their personal history is comprised of one conquest after another each building on the last in order to support an aspirational run for the highest office in the land. You'd like to think as well that that the candidate's moral compass is beyond reproach and that our great country might well flourish under their inspirational leadership. None of these building blocks are in place for Hillary Clinton. In fact, the very absence of these building blocks is and should be of great concern for any god fearing american. She has an abysmal record historically and quite possibly an indictable one given her checkered past. It her lust for power that fuels her ambitions in this regard and we as a country would be well advised to steer clear of her candidacy and send her packing at the earliest possible opportunity. Of even greater concern is the fact that candidates the likes of Hillary Clinton even get a second look by the voters of this country. Let's hope the process is unkind to her from the outset.
I'm a little late to the social media scene but am now in with both feet. Listen to me. I'm quite full of myself after sending a couple of tweets. How funny is that? I should want to consider for a moment why I am so late to the scene that other generations have embraced so thoroughly. You can't turn a webpage or listen to a radio station without hearing a reference to certain social media applications such as Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, or Instagram. As for me, I've turned a deaf ear to all of them and perhaps to my detriment. As for Twitter, it appears to offer something that might very well be of interest to me. That is to say, a more immediate access to news from around the world and even in my backyard. An unfiltered and nearly spontaneous glimpse of reality that you will never find in the scrubbed versions of what they refer to as news in the local or national media. They have become distrusted, untimely, and just so yesterday. Now, they will become dismantled one by one and replaced with social media of one kind or another. For those who have something to say, and I am not without a voice, Twitter works well. It is a platform for a shout out, a criticism, an observation astute or otherwise, and a place to go when I want to hear all the news that is fit to post. My biggest challenge is finding and following the right hashtags. The good news is that it is fun to play in the Twitter sandbox since there are no sharp objects with which to hurt oneself. That said, I am cautious in my rants as the continuums on both sides of that equation run afoul of the acceptable sooner or later. And, as we all know now that Snowden has been outed, there is no such thing as privacy or anonymity.
You know I have to say something about politics. My morning would be incomplete were I to say nothing. So, today Hillary Clinton plans to announce her candidacy for the Presidency of the United States. God help us all. Has our country descended that far into lunacy that we have to even consider her as a candidate? The very prospect is on its face just too much to even contemplate. You'd like to think that our candidates have some higher moral or civil cause on which to base their desire to lead our country. You'd also like to think that their personal history is comprised of one conquest after another each building on the last in order to support an aspirational run for the highest office in the land. You'd like to think as well that that the candidate's moral compass is beyond reproach and that our great country might well flourish under their inspirational leadership. None of these building blocks are in place for Hillary Clinton. In fact, the very absence of these building blocks is and should be of great concern for any god fearing american. She has an abysmal record historically and quite possibly an indictable one given her checkered past. It her lust for power that fuels her ambitions in this regard and we as a country would be well advised to steer clear of her candidacy and send her packing at the earliest possible opportunity. Of even greater concern is the fact that candidates the likes of Hillary Clinton even get a second look by the voters of this country. Let's hope the process is unkind to her from the outset.
Sleeping with Dogs
15/03/15 07:15
I've had three bike rides on my new bike so far this 2015 season and I think I'm off to a good start. Don't much care about the salt or dirt on the roads hereabouts. Bikes are meant to be ridden come hell or high water and that is precisely what I am doing. On the warmer days when the temperatures get up into the low 40's, the roads are sloppy and wet from the melting snows and I do my best to avoid the water in the road but don't make much of it otherwise. As we get further into the month March the winds here along the coast have done a pretty good job of drying out the main roads especially along the ocean road so once I arrive on the boulevard I'm usually good to go. The Seacoast is slowly coming to life after an especially long and hard winter so folks who you might not otherwise expect to see until the early days of Spring are venturing out earlier than usual. It's good to have company whether they be on foot, on their bikes, or other. The parking areas along the state beaches are still impassable with snow that is knee deep but that doesn't deter the surfers. They line up their vans and cars up along the boulevard decked out in wet suits like dead-heads at a Grateful Dead concert looking for easy access to the concert. And there are days, I should tell you, when I have to bundle up to the point of having my face covered so the cold and or the wind doesn't dampen my enthusiasm for the ride. My darling has yet to join me as it is still a bit cold for her and that suits me just fine. A month from now I'll have a good jump on the season and might readily go longer than usual or further than usual if that is what we choose to do. It has been a long winter and it feels good to get my body going. I do that less well during the winter months.
All that fretting and for nothing. Nancy has to drive into Boston today and was consumed the better part of yesterday with worry over the fact that snow was in the forecast. It would certainly make for a longer and possibly more difficult commute but a mere couple of inches give or take shouldn't matter one way or another. As I look out the window here at the early hour of 7am there are steely colored skies but not much else. The roads should be dry as the day gets underway but may turn slick if it does start to snow. There is no consoling her when she gets it in her head that her drive into town is going to be made that much more miserable by snow in the forecast. I go out of my way to tell her that she has one of the most reliable cars on the planet when it comes to driving in snow and that she might as well be driving a tank. This is of little comfort to her. It is now mid afternoon and the snow which started out as periodic and light has picked up in intensity and may if it does not slow down actually begin to accumulate. That would not be good. The treachery on the roads that Nancy feared might come to fruition seems to be doing just that. I may have to call her once she gets on the road to assure her that she will be just fine. Take it slow and easy and don't rush whatever you do. It might even give me a little more time to get some things done around the house that I have been avoiding for the better part of the day now. With any luck, the snow will taper off as time goes on and the roads will get back to normal. Chalk one up to wishful thinking.
I wonder if there is such a thing as an "old bag" factor when it comes to selecting presidential candidates. Or, a "has been" factor that simply suggests that we've seen enough of this person over time to know that we're just as happy to see them walk away. In 2015, the potential nominees include both a Bush and a Clinton. Hillary is without question the "old bag" to whom I refer. She looks tired and lethargic and even a little stout in the most fitting of her pant suits. Perhaps the word maternal is more fitting. Now that she is grandmother she can play that card along with all the others she has in her tiny little handbag of tricks. I used to think her husband was one of the sleaziest people on the planet but the sheer cumulative effect of her history reminds me of that old Arkansas expression, "when you lie down with dogs you are sure to rise with fleas." If half of what we've heard about the Clinton Foundation and their relationships with foreign governments is true then she should be summarily disqualified from running for president of the United States. There is no doubt in anyone's mind that the Clintons have sold their souls for power over the years. That may be the price and residual effect of sitting in the White House for eight years. Jimmy Carter left the presidency and started "Habitat for Humanity." Other presidents planned and executed on equally dignified pursuits. Bill Clinton traverses the planet exploiting what little political capital he has with foreign governments and was more recently associated in the press with a convicted pedophile, Jeffrey Epstein. There is no shortage of stories about Hillary going back to the Travelgate days and the truth has never come out about her involvement in the Vince Foster murder among other stories. It's time for the left leaning press to vet one of their own. Leave no stones unturned. Do your job.
All that fretting and for nothing. Nancy has to drive into Boston today and was consumed the better part of yesterday with worry over the fact that snow was in the forecast. It would certainly make for a longer and possibly more difficult commute but a mere couple of inches give or take shouldn't matter one way or another. As I look out the window here at the early hour of 7am there are steely colored skies but not much else. The roads should be dry as the day gets underway but may turn slick if it does start to snow. There is no consoling her when she gets it in her head that her drive into town is going to be made that much more miserable by snow in the forecast. I go out of my way to tell her that she has one of the most reliable cars on the planet when it comes to driving in snow and that she might as well be driving a tank. This is of little comfort to her. It is now mid afternoon and the snow which started out as periodic and light has picked up in intensity and may if it does not slow down actually begin to accumulate. That would not be good. The treachery on the roads that Nancy feared might come to fruition seems to be doing just that. I may have to call her once she gets on the road to assure her that she will be just fine. Take it slow and easy and don't rush whatever you do. It might even give me a little more time to get some things done around the house that I have been avoiding for the better part of the day now. With any luck, the snow will taper off as time goes on and the roads will get back to normal. Chalk one up to wishful thinking.
I wonder if there is such a thing as an "old bag" factor when it comes to selecting presidential candidates. Or, a "has been" factor that simply suggests that we've seen enough of this person over time to know that we're just as happy to see them walk away. In 2015, the potential nominees include both a Bush and a Clinton. Hillary is without question the "old bag" to whom I refer. She looks tired and lethargic and even a little stout in the most fitting of her pant suits. Perhaps the word maternal is more fitting. Now that she is grandmother she can play that card along with all the others she has in her tiny little handbag of tricks. I used to think her husband was one of the sleaziest people on the planet but the sheer cumulative effect of her history reminds me of that old Arkansas expression, "when you lie down with dogs you are sure to rise with fleas." If half of what we've heard about the Clinton Foundation and their relationships with foreign governments is true then she should be summarily disqualified from running for president of the United States. There is no doubt in anyone's mind that the Clintons have sold their souls for power over the years. That may be the price and residual effect of sitting in the White House for eight years. Jimmy Carter left the presidency and started "Habitat for Humanity." Other presidents planned and executed on equally dignified pursuits. Bill Clinton traverses the planet exploiting what little political capital he has with foreign governments and was more recently associated in the press with a convicted pedophile, Jeffrey Epstein. There is no shortage of stories about Hillary going back to the Travelgate days and the truth has never come out about her involvement in the Vince Foster murder among other stories. It's time for the left leaning press to vet one of their own. Leave no stones unturned. Do your job.
Wasabi Dreams
28/02/15 17:32
That bike was easier to assemble that I thought it would be. You never quite know what to expect when they say, "assembly required." I could tell by the shape of the box when I first saw it sitting in my driveway that it was probably not a big job. Not a job that would require a lot of tools; not as job that would require a lot of muscle; not a job that would require more than a modest amount of intelligence or common sense; and certainly not a job beyond my abilities as currently assessed. You know when the tires come out of the box inflated you are more than likely good to go. You can also tell by the number of tools they give you as to just how big the job is. I recognized all the tools right away which is always a good sign. So Fischeryl was good enough to ask, and I will repeat here, just how I came to win this little bit of a bike. This little bit of a bike that looks to be just right. A Goldilocks bike if I've ever owned one. Not too heavy; not too light; not too fast; not too slow; just fucking right. Seems that I did something noteworthy at work and someone just happened to notice. It's one of those deals where you get to choose from a catalogue of items all within a price range. I've been complaining forever that my current bike has me bent over and almost gnarled from the experience and I'm just ready to put that behind me. So, this bike is just the trick. I am ready to rock and roll. Now I am just waiting for temperatures to get above freezing and the snow to disappear from the streets and I'll be good to go.
I'm still interested in this so-called Net Neutrality bill that passed by a 3-2 vote at the FCC. It was one of those "you have to pass it to know what's in it" type of bills. Shades of Obamacare and Pelosi? All very hush-hush and influenced in no small way by the Obama administration. You can just guess the party affiliation of the three votes that pushed it over the top. So, the government runs our healthcare system; they now own and control the internet; The imperial leader of the democratic party sitting in the White House continues to disregard the Congress and the Constitution; and the Jihadists are infiltrating every country on the planet while Obama hosts the Muslim brotherhood at the White House. Did I mention that he and scary Kerry are working with Iran to ensure that they have the capacity to build a nuclear bomb in the near future. I would say to the Israeli's who are already flocking to Israel from many European countries to escape the antisemitic movement world wide that they should be scared. Very scared. This just cannot end well by any realistic measure. Netanyahu, the PM from Israel, will address our Congress in the coming weeks much to the chagrin and consternation of Obama and his sycophantic party members in the Congress on the dangers of arming Iran. The American people will hear the clarion call of a people on the brink of extermination. If they listen even more carefully, they will hear the echoes of their own freedoms becoming fainter and fainter until they disappear altogether.
Not sure why but I keep coming back to sushi. I seem to have acquired a taste for it somewhere along the line and every time I have it I just want more it. I really like the tuna sushi and I had some salmon sushi today which wasn't bad either. Not sure I would like it nearly as much without the wasabi and soy sauce but I'm willing and wanting to be surprised. One should be fickle and fearless when it comes to their cuisine. I do enjoy raw seafood and especially like raw oysters and clams when in season. They too are quite delicious with horseradish, lemon, and maybe a little cocktail sauce. Some people have trouble with the way oysters and clams go down. Not me. They can slither and slide but never dither until they are deep inside. Oh, Johnny, you are such a poet! And a lover of everything raw! Seafood, anyway. Maybe "dither" as a word doesn't work as precisely as it should but you get my drift. The sushi today came from a local high end supermarket where this little Japanese fellow peered out at me from behind the counter in a little kiosk designed to showcase his creations. He stopped doing what he was doing just long enough to acknowledge my presence and went back to his craft when I motioned that I was "just looking." I circled back after buying a few other items and when he wasn't looking I carted off one of those little plastic see through containers with four pieces of sushi and a few rice rolls tucked neatly from end to end. Not a steal at $8.95 but not a deal breaker either. It's good to live large once in a while.
I'm still interested in this so-called Net Neutrality bill that passed by a 3-2 vote at the FCC. It was one of those "you have to pass it to know what's in it" type of bills. Shades of Obamacare and Pelosi? All very hush-hush and influenced in no small way by the Obama administration. You can just guess the party affiliation of the three votes that pushed it over the top. So, the government runs our healthcare system; they now own and control the internet; The imperial leader of the democratic party sitting in the White House continues to disregard the Congress and the Constitution; and the Jihadists are infiltrating every country on the planet while Obama hosts the Muslim brotherhood at the White House. Did I mention that he and scary Kerry are working with Iran to ensure that they have the capacity to build a nuclear bomb in the near future. I would say to the Israeli's who are already flocking to Israel from many European countries to escape the antisemitic movement world wide that they should be scared. Very scared. This just cannot end well by any realistic measure. Netanyahu, the PM from Israel, will address our Congress in the coming weeks much to the chagrin and consternation of Obama and his sycophantic party members in the Congress on the dangers of arming Iran. The American people will hear the clarion call of a people on the brink of extermination. If they listen even more carefully, they will hear the echoes of their own freedoms becoming fainter and fainter until they disappear altogether.
Not sure why but I keep coming back to sushi. I seem to have acquired a taste for it somewhere along the line and every time I have it I just want more it. I really like the tuna sushi and I had some salmon sushi today which wasn't bad either. Not sure I would like it nearly as much without the wasabi and soy sauce but I'm willing and wanting to be surprised. One should be fickle and fearless when it comes to their cuisine. I do enjoy raw seafood and especially like raw oysters and clams when in season. They too are quite delicious with horseradish, lemon, and maybe a little cocktail sauce. Some people have trouble with the way oysters and clams go down. Not me. They can slither and slide but never dither until they are deep inside. Oh, Johnny, you are such a poet! And a lover of everything raw! Seafood, anyway. Maybe "dither" as a word doesn't work as precisely as it should but you get my drift. The sushi today came from a local high end supermarket where this little Japanese fellow peered out at me from behind the counter in a little kiosk designed to showcase his creations. He stopped doing what he was doing just long enough to acknowledge my presence and went back to his craft when I motioned that I was "just looking." I circled back after buying a few other items and when he wasn't looking I carted off one of those little plastic see through containers with four pieces of sushi and a few rice rolls tucked neatly from end to end. Not a steal at $8.95 but not a deal breaker either. It's good to live large once in a while.
One More Day
21/02/15 07:11
If we could only have Jim back for one more day. We’d remind him how much we laughed, loved, and lived as only our family could. It was not always easy and that made all of the special times in our lives that much more memorable. We would tell him that our lives as children would have been less complete without the love and affection he gave to those of us who returned his love in equal measures. He was the big brother that everyone looked up to and he was always there for each and every one of us. We would ask Jim how he managed to be so even keeled when the world around him often threatened to unravel even in childhood. He seemed to embrace those challenges often shrugging them off with a laugh and an easy going smile. He knew his responsibilities even as a young child and never shied away from them.
We followed in his footsteps taking the easy path while he blazed trails in and around the neighborhoods of Glens Falls from Lincoln Avenue to Dixon Road. Jim made countless friends wherever he went. We might ask him how he managed to do that so easily but we already know the answer. Every friend was a brother and every brother was a friend to Jim. We all could have learned from him and perhaps we did more than we know. While we know all too well the places in our hearts where Jim now and forever resides we cannot fathom the pride his parents must have felt when it came to their son. We can only imagine. We might ask Jim to recount the special times with his dad when he visited he and his family in California; We might ask Jim to tell us again about his trips with his mom to Pa Burkes in Johnstown, NY, as a child; We might ask him to recount his times on Lake George with gramps and nana where the lake frequently offered refuge from the sweltering heat of the Falls in the dog days of August; We might ask him to tell us one more time about the time he had the job driving the truck through the foothills of Vermont; We might ask him how he took to wrestling when that was not otherwise in his nature; and we might ask him to give us one more hug before saying good bye.
If we could only have Jim back for one more day.
We followed in his footsteps taking the easy path while he blazed trails in and around the neighborhoods of Glens Falls from Lincoln Avenue to Dixon Road. Jim made countless friends wherever he went. We might ask him how he managed to do that so easily but we already know the answer. Every friend was a brother and every brother was a friend to Jim. We all could have learned from him and perhaps we did more than we know. While we know all too well the places in our hearts where Jim now and forever resides we cannot fathom the pride his parents must have felt when it came to their son. We can only imagine. We might ask Jim to recount the special times with his dad when he visited he and his family in California; We might ask Jim to tell us again about his trips with his mom to Pa Burkes in Johnstown, NY, as a child; We might ask him to recount his times on Lake George with gramps and nana where the lake frequently offered refuge from the sweltering heat of the Falls in the dog days of August; We might ask him to tell us one more time about the time he had the job driving the truck through the foothills of Vermont; We might ask him how he took to wrestling when that was not otherwise in his nature; and we might ask him to give us one more hug before saying good bye.
If we could only have Jim back for one more day.
Arizona Blues
07/02/15 07:25
Brother Jim died last week. Not sure of the cause just yet but if I had to guess I would say that it was unnatural. He was just 57 and I think maybe a young 57. Who dies when are 57? Besides, 57 is the new 45 if you're paying attention to the actuarial tables. Maybe that boy just ran out of options out there in Arizona. Jim spent much of his life with a monkey on his back. Not sure when that all started. I don't have a clear recollection of his teenage years or clear enough anyway to say that is when it all started. I don't remember having conversations with the brothers and sisters back in the day where anyone made any reference to Jim having issues one way or another. He certainly managed to move west, start a family, and do the kinds of things men are expected to do so as they come into the world as young men. But the signs were probably always there and either I wasn't there to see or he wasn't saying. Either way, it was not the way any of us wanted to see Jim go through life and it certainly wasn't how we wanted to see him die. I will always feel good about the fact that his daughter was at his side when he died. A man should not go alone into the darkness without the love and sentiment that only children and loved ones can bring. Maybe more of a consolation to those of us still alive but nonetheless a good thing. Our family is now in a holding pattern since no funeral plans have been announced and there is more discussion amongst us about a service in the spring in NY and certainly less discussion about any one or more of us traveling to Arizona to say our good byes. My particular preference is to see Jim buried or cremated in AZ and his to have his body interred there. There where he led his life; there where his family resides; there within reach of his children so they might visit his grave from time to time; and there where we can only surmise that he wanted to stay after his death. Rest in peace, brother.
We loved you in life and our everlasting love goes with you even now.
Can't say I've ever seen this much snow. Can't keep ahead of it. On the deck. In the driveway. On the roof. You name it. Can't even see our wood pile anymore. If I had to I could carve out a spot where I think the wood pile is located and go from there. We did manage to get a path down so the oil man could make his deliveries. When I think of all the jobs that just wouldn't sit well with me delivering oil has to be one of them. Working outside might be nice but not so much in the dead of winter where getting to the house is probably the biggest challenge. I'm not so sure that home owners always appreciate what it takes to get the damn hose to the house much less pump the oil in once he gets there. The things they must see. You think there is much turnover in that trade? It probably helps to pay them a decent wage. An unskilled and uneducated man or woman might be lucky to have a job like that. I saw an oil delivery fellow yesterday scaling a snow bank down the street just to get to the house. He didn't appear to be properly dressed for the weather. Wasn't even wearing a hat for gods sake. I'm quite sure the temperatures were near or below zero. I had to look away. In fact, he looked more like a transient than an oil delivery man with a strong customer service orientation. We're counting our blessings that we bought a snow blower some years ago, this year in particular, and it has been a veritable godsend. It is actually enjoyable to use and, just speaking for myself, I like the way it restores order when order is hard to find. Machines are useful that way. It's just a guess but I have to believe our oil man agrees with me.
We loved you in life and our everlasting love goes with you even now.
Can't say I've ever seen this much snow. Can't keep ahead of it. On the deck. In the driveway. On the roof. You name it. Can't even see our wood pile anymore. If I had to I could carve out a spot where I think the wood pile is located and go from there. We did manage to get a path down so the oil man could make his deliveries. When I think of all the jobs that just wouldn't sit well with me delivering oil has to be one of them. Working outside might be nice but not so much in the dead of winter where getting to the house is probably the biggest challenge. I'm not so sure that home owners always appreciate what it takes to get the damn hose to the house much less pump the oil in once he gets there. The things they must see. You think there is much turnover in that trade? It probably helps to pay them a decent wage. An unskilled and uneducated man or woman might be lucky to have a job like that. I saw an oil delivery fellow yesterday scaling a snow bank down the street just to get to the house. He didn't appear to be properly dressed for the weather. Wasn't even wearing a hat for gods sake. I'm quite sure the temperatures were near or below zero. I had to look away. In fact, he looked more like a transient than an oil delivery man with a strong customer service orientation. We're counting our blessings that we bought a snow blower some years ago, this year in particular, and it has been a veritable godsend. It is actually enjoyable to use and, just speaking for myself, I like the way it restores order when order is hard to find. Machines are useful that way. It's just a guess but I have to believe our oil man agrees with me.
Full Circle
03/01/15 07:58
Welcome to 2015 ya'll. There is not so much as a lick of snow on the ground but that may change later today. Not sure that I care one way or another. It's the first weekend of the new year and we're off to a fresh start or so it seems. I'm reading a book entitled, "The Goldfinch" and it's not bad. I wouldn't ordinarily pick up and start reading a book with 800+ pages but I'm halfway through it and it's quite readable. Not sure where it's going quite honestly but I guess I'll find out. I'm also not a huge fan of fiction but these days I'm less interested in what it is than how it reads. I was telling Nancy the other day that there are few things in life more satisfying than a good book and there is nothing that satisfies like a good book satisfies. Nancy has recommended books that I put down after reading a paragraph or two and then there were others I couldn't put down. And while I wouldn't consider myself a "reader" I may well be reader after all is said and done. That is to say, if I have a good book to read then I will most certainly read it to the end as long as that takes. As for Goldfinch, I'm not even sure that the story itself is all that intriguing but the way it reads keeps me coming back. It is also not one of those books where I feel the need to know how it ends just to stay motivated to read it. In a world all too uncertain, there is satisfaction to be taken in finishing things that you start. It's that full circle thing that your parents and grandparents worked so hard to instill in you when they insisted that you put things back in their rightful place after using them. Tools come to mind and to this day I don't do that well. I've come to like these "Goldfinch" characters all the same and will miss them when I'm done with the book. And I will be done with it sooner or later.
We've gone from having no snow to having a lot with more in the forecast. It snowed for the better part of the day yesterday accumulating 7-8 inches or maybe a little more over the course of 12 hours. It was touted as a fast mover at the outset so I was surprised to see it still sputtering some 12 hours after it started. My game plan yesterday was to clear it all away in passes with the snowblower throughout the day. The trigger more often than not was telltale sound of the town snowplow making its way down our dead end street. I was a bit worried that the snow would become heavier over the course of the day so wanted to stay ahead of the storm by getting out often. My darling neighbor, a woman in her early seventies and robustly independent, is spending the winter here after spending the last few in Arizona so I did my best to clear the snow away at her home as much as I could to ease her burden. She has a snowblower but it is a large machine and not well suited for an elderly person who otherwise finds taking her octogenarian Jack Terrier for a walk to be a chore. Don't get me wrong. This very same woman purchased a Harley Davidson motorcycle last year and one that was larger than the one she owned the year before. Nonetheless, the energy and muscle required to move mountains of snow can be considerable so I was happy to offer mine. You worry a little about setting precenent and all the rest when it comes to snow removal but it's nearly February so I'll not concern myself with such things. If I thought it possible, I would have Evan take up that charge but it is not a task befitting him at the moment so we'll not pursue that in any meaningful fashion.
And then there is Nancy's mom and all that needs to be done at her house. It seems we have all we can do sometimes to clear a path and remove the snow from her car so she can move it back across the street and into her own driveway. Despite the seemingly endless snow falling across southern New Hampshire yesterday, we saw to it that we got over to her house around 5 in the afternoon or so to check in on her and get her out for a ride into town if that worked out. Her driveway had not been cleared so we picked her up and went into Portsmouth where with all the city lights and drifting snows made for a winter wonderland effect. The traffic for a Saturday evening was scant indeed and some restaurants had not even opened which seemed surprising. While the storm made for difficult travel, it had not accumulated in any appreciable way so sidewalks and side streets were indeed passable and in reasonably good shape. We found a parking spot directly in front of the Irish Pub in downtown Portsmouth and waltzed around the drifts to get to the restaurant where the crowds were spirited and seemingly festive. Our blonde waitress with a lovely Irish accent brought our food around promptly once it was ready and it was deliciously hot and tasty. Nancy's mom and I had burgers while Nancy had a chicken sandwich served with chips.
We shared an Irish coffee which failed once again to meet the standard set long ago by the Colorado Public Library in Boston. That said, it was one of the better coffees we've had in recent times in and around Portsmouth. The alcohol in any Irish coffee should be stimulating but not overpowering and it was neither in our case. The whipped cream was real and the cinnamon was dusted but not infused around the rim of the glass cup. It's always nice when sipping the coffee when a shard or two of the infused cinnamon falls away into your mouth and melts slowly against the coffee and alcohol already swilling around. It was a night to enjoy being out and about so we were not wanting to be too particular about much of anything so left it alone for the moment.
We've gone from having no snow to having a lot with more in the forecast. It snowed for the better part of the day yesterday accumulating 7-8 inches or maybe a little more over the course of 12 hours. It was touted as a fast mover at the outset so I was surprised to see it still sputtering some 12 hours after it started. My game plan yesterday was to clear it all away in passes with the snowblower throughout the day. The trigger more often than not was telltale sound of the town snowplow making its way down our dead end street. I was a bit worried that the snow would become heavier over the course of the day so wanted to stay ahead of the storm by getting out often. My darling neighbor, a woman in her early seventies and robustly independent, is spending the winter here after spending the last few in Arizona so I did my best to clear the snow away at her home as much as I could to ease her burden. She has a snowblower but it is a large machine and not well suited for an elderly person who otherwise finds taking her octogenarian Jack Terrier for a walk to be a chore. Don't get me wrong. This very same woman purchased a Harley Davidson motorcycle last year and one that was larger than the one she owned the year before. Nonetheless, the energy and muscle required to move mountains of snow can be considerable so I was happy to offer mine. You worry a little about setting precenent and all the rest when it comes to snow removal but it's nearly February so I'll not concern myself with such things. If I thought it possible, I would have Evan take up that charge but it is not a task befitting him at the moment so we'll not pursue that in any meaningful fashion.
And then there is Nancy's mom and all that needs to be done at her house. It seems we have all we can do sometimes to clear a path and remove the snow from her car so she can move it back across the street and into her own driveway. Despite the seemingly endless snow falling across southern New Hampshire yesterday, we saw to it that we got over to her house around 5 in the afternoon or so to check in on her and get her out for a ride into town if that worked out. Her driveway had not been cleared so we picked her up and went into Portsmouth where with all the city lights and drifting snows made for a winter wonderland effect. The traffic for a Saturday evening was scant indeed and some restaurants had not even opened which seemed surprising. While the storm made for difficult travel, it had not accumulated in any appreciable way so sidewalks and side streets were indeed passable and in reasonably good shape. We found a parking spot directly in front of the Irish Pub in downtown Portsmouth and waltzed around the drifts to get to the restaurant where the crowds were spirited and seemingly festive. Our blonde waitress with a lovely Irish accent brought our food around promptly once it was ready and it was deliciously hot and tasty. Nancy's mom and I had burgers while Nancy had a chicken sandwich served with chips.
We shared an Irish coffee which failed once again to meet the standard set long ago by the Colorado Public Library in Boston. That said, it was one of the better coffees we've had in recent times in and around Portsmouth. The alcohol in any Irish coffee should be stimulating but not overpowering and it was neither in our case. The whipped cream was real and the cinnamon was dusted but not infused around the rim of the glass cup. It's always nice when sipping the coffee when a shard or two of the infused cinnamon falls away into your mouth and melts slowly against the coffee and alcohol already swilling around. It was a night to enjoy being out and about so we were not wanting to be too particular about much of anything so left it alone for the moment.