Ten
tiny pieces of
bubblegum
Glowing at the ends
of long
slender
fingers.
Reminds me of
the sticky sweetness
that is
the flavor of my youth.
And of you.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Monday, September 6, 2010
Today and yesterday - all at once
I like old things. Classic things. Old cars. Old radios. Old records. Things that have a sense of history appeal to me. I like the fact that they have been around, that they have survived. That they have, in their own way, witnessed history first hand.
Which probably explains why I have enjoyed my last two trips to the movies. Yes, the two films in question were of very high quality – “The Kids are Alright” (a certain Oscar nominee) and “Eat, Pray, Love”, especially because anytime you can spend 2 hours looking at Julia Roberts is a good thing. Oh, and the film is very good too.
But the quality of the films were only enhanced by my surroundings – which was definitely NOT the local multiplex. No, instead, we enjoyed these films in a vintage theater – The Forum – on Main Street in Metuchen, NJ. And I forgot just how much fun it was to go to the movies at a single-screen theater, with a big auditorium and a big screen, with no hustle and bustle and trying to find your theater amongst the 18 or so that you find nowadays, with small auditoriums and louder crowds.
No, the Forum is a real theater. A genuine throwback to the days when going to the movies was an event. A large auditorium, with many wide rows of somewhat uncomfortable seats. Not unbearable, mind you, but definitely not your living room couch. And isn’t that the point of going to the movies anyway?
The Forum has a real marquee. With neon lights and big letters. And the marquee shows you what’s playing AND the times. Just drive by on your way to the store and you know what time to eat dinner if you want to make the evening show.
Ticket prices are only $8 – a real bargain in these days. And for that $8, you get a few quick previews and the movie. No pre-show TV entertainment. No endless previews of films you may or may not have an interest in. Get there early? Then have an actual conversation with your date, or your wife, or your friend, or the couple in the row behind you. Buy some real popcorn – but remember there are NO cupholders here.
Enjoy the vintage music and the smells that are found in a real theater – a combination of must and history and butter. Watch the lights dim and enjoy the show. And after the film, walk out about 20 steps to your car, discussing the movie or deciding where to go for ice cream.
Do yourself a favor – go to a movie at a real theater just once. You WILL go back again and again. And let’s all be sure to patronize these theaters now, because if we don’t save them, we’ll end up with another pizza place or hair salon or dollar store where this little piece of history once stood.
Milk Duds anyone?
Which probably explains why I have enjoyed my last two trips to the movies. Yes, the two films in question were of very high quality – “The Kids are Alright” (a certain Oscar nominee) and “Eat, Pray, Love”, especially because anytime you can spend 2 hours looking at Julia Roberts is a good thing. Oh, and the film is very good too.
But the quality of the films were only enhanced by my surroundings – which was definitely NOT the local multiplex. No, instead, we enjoyed these films in a vintage theater – The Forum – on Main Street in Metuchen, NJ. And I forgot just how much fun it was to go to the movies at a single-screen theater, with a big auditorium and a big screen, with no hustle and bustle and trying to find your theater amongst the 18 or so that you find nowadays, with small auditoriums and louder crowds.
No, the Forum is a real theater. A genuine throwback to the days when going to the movies was an event. A large auditorium, with many wide rows of somewhat uncomfortable seats. Not unbearable, mind you, but definitely not your living room couch. And isn’t that the point of going to the movies anyway?
The Forum has a real marquee. With neon lights and big letters. And the marquee shows you what’s playing AND the times. Just drive by on your way to the store and you know what time to eat dinner if you want to make the evening show.
Ticket prices are only $8 – a real bargain in these days. And for that $8, you get a few quick previews and the movie. No pre-show TV entertainment. No endless previews of films you may or may not have an interest in. Get there early? Then have an actual conversation with your date, or your wife, or your friend, or the couple in the row behind you. Buy some real popcorn – but remember there are NO cupholders here.
Enjoy the vintage music and the smells that are found in a real theater – a combination of must and history and butter. Watch the lights dim and enjoy the show. And after the film, walk out about 20 steps to your car, discussing the movie or deciding where to go for ice cream.
Do yourself a favor – go to a movie at a real theater just once. You WILL go back again and again. And let’s all be sure to patronize these theaters now, because if we don’t save them, we’ll end up with another pizza place or hair salon or dollar store where this little piece of history once stood.
Milk Duds anyone?
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Help - I'm disappearing!!
According to a recent article that I came across on Yahoo ("The Middle Class in America is Radically Shrinking. Here Are the Stats to Prove It" by Michael Snyder), the middle class in America is rapidly disappearing. While this has been debated and discussed for quite a while, the statistics the author cites are rather startling. He makes a very clear cut case to support his arguments.
Coincidentally, while reading this article I came across my Social Security statement which had recently arrived. Taking a quick glance at the "earnings record" section, and its precipitous decline, hit me like a tone of bricks: Holy Smoke - I'm in the middle class. . .and I'm disappearing!!
Once upon a time I never worried about being middle class. I was on a fast track, climbing the corporate ladder on my way to what I perceived would be "easy street." And my earnings proved it - $113,000, $132,000, $157,000, $179,000 - the sky was truly the limit.
Circumstances, however, intervened and my elevator to the top got stuck and then, like Disney's "Tower of Terror", began its startling descent, dropping as low as $44,300 while my family got older and, consequently, more expensive to keep.
Now, with two incomes, my "household" income doesn't even equal what I myself made in 1995 - and that's not even taking into account inflation, which would be simply too depressing to calculate. My personal income now barely tops $50,000. I work two jobs to keep the lights on. And I go around turning them off a lot these days.
And I find myself agreeing with Michael Snyder - the middle class is disappearing and taking me with it.
Something has to give. There has to be a way to turn this around before it's too late. Before the backbone of this country is reduced to an entry in someone's version of a history textbook.
Ideas, anyone??
Coincidentally, while reading this article I came across my Social Security statement which had recently arrived. Taking a quick glance at the "earnings record" section, and its precipitous decline, hit me like a tone of bricks: Holy Smoke - I'm in the middle class. . .and I'm disappearing!!
Once upon a time I never worried about being middle class. I was on a fast track, climbing the corporate ladder on my way to what I perceived would be "easy street." And my earnings proved it - $113,000, $132,000, $157,000, $179,000 - the sky was truly the limit.
Circumstances, however, intervened and my elevator to the top got stuck and then, like Disney's "Tower of Terror", began its startling descent, dropping as low as $44,300 while my family got older and, consequently, more expensive to keep.
Now, with two incomes, my "household" income doesn't even equal what I myself made in 1995 - and that's not even taking into account inflation, which would be simply too depressing to calculate. My personal income now barely tops $50,000. I work two jobs to keep the lights on. And I go around turning them off a lot these days.
And I find myself agreeing with Michael Snyder - the middle class is disappearing and taking me with it.
Something has to give. There has to be a way to turn this around before it's too late. Before the backbone of this country is reduced to an entry in someone's version of a history textbook.
Ideas, anyone??
Sunday, June 6, 2010
That's the brakes
I'm a car guy. I like old cars. I like how they look. I like how they work. I often spend time working on them.
I tend not to trust mechanics. I feel like they are always getting one over on me. So I generally try to do as much of my own work as possible.
Today - I tackled brakes. I've worked on my own cars for at least the last 25 years, but one area I never touched was brakes. Maybe it's because that is most often the only thing that stands between you and a collision.
But, as I'm rapidly finding out more and more, necessity is the mother of invention. And, with my wife losing her job (and our family losing about half their income), keeping this old car going as cheaply as possible is now a necessity, not a cute novelty.
And when I heard that tell-tale grind yesterday, I realized I faced two choices. I could buy a lottery ticket and pray or I could learn how to fix brakes in 12 hours. I chose the second.
So there I was, up to my ass in rust, brake fluid and rust. And more rust. And more rust. I had no idea just how much rust can accumulate on the underside of a sport utility vehicle over 16 years. Believe me - it's a lot.
Because I believe that education is the key to successfully doing anything, I read a lot about doing the job. I watched on line videos. I consulted message boards. And I found out one thing - when all is said and done, it's all bullshit. The only way to do the job is to. . . .do the job.
I also found out something else. It's that four wheel drive is code for "anything you want to do on this truck is going to take 10 times longer and be 10 times more complicated - but you can drive in the snow." I'd give up the snow-driving ability for some simpler way to fix things.
But in the end, after 4 hours, two additional runs to the store, one skinned knuckle, one sprained thumb and the onset of arthritis in my knees, the brakes were installed, the wheels were back on, the truck stops and I only spent about 50 bucks - clearly saving about $300 in the process.
That $300 will go a long way toward paying some bills. And I guess I can now say I know how to fix brakes. Add that to the list.
Now, if I could only get the catalytic converter off of the Corvette. "Liquid Wrench" anyone??
I tend not to trust mechanics. I feel like they are always getting one over on me. So I generally try to do as much of my own work as possible.
Today - I tackled brakes. I've worked on my own cars for at least the last 25 years, but one area I never touched was brakes. Maybe it's because that is most often the only thing that stands between you and a collision.
But, as I'm rapidly finding out more and more, necessity is the mother of invention. And, with my wife losing her job (and our family losing about half their income), keeping this old car going as cheaply as possible is now a necessity, not a cute novelty.
And when I heard that tell-tale grind yesterday, I realized I faced two choices. I could buy a lottery ticket and pray or I could learn how to fix brakes in 12 hours. I chose the second.
So there I was, up to my ass in rust, brake fluid and rust. And more rust. And more rust. I had no idea just how much rust can accumulate on the underside of a sport utility vehicle over 16 years. Believe me - it's a lot.
Because I believe that education is the key to successfully doing anything, I read a lot about doing the job. I watched on line videos. I consulted message boards. And I found out one thing - when all is said and done, it's all bullshit. The only way to do the job is to. . . .do the job.
I also found out something else. It's that four wheel drive is code for "anything you want to do on this truck is going to take 10 times longer and be 10 times more complicated - but you can drive in the snow." I'd give up the snow-driving ability for some simpler way to fix things.
But in the end, after 4 hours, two additional runs to the store, one skinned knuckle, one sprained thumb and the onset of arthritis in my knees, the brakes were installed, the wheels were back on, the truck stops and I only spent about 50 bucks - clearly saving about $300 in the process.
That $300 will go a long way toward paying some bills. And I guess I can now say I know how to fix brakes. Add that to the list.
Now, if I could only get the catalytic converter off of the Corvette. "Liquid Wrench" anyone??
Saturday, May 29, 2010
Invasion of Privacy?? I think. . . yes!
I've written before about how the internet and message boards have changed lives. Instant gratification is the order of the day. Automatic publishing - such as this blog - have become the norm.
But one thing that remains in this electronic day and age is the good, old fashioned "Letter to the Editor." Or so I thought.
Recently, a columnist raised my ire enough to get me to write a letter to the editor of the local paper. I was exercising my constitutional right of freedom of speech in the time tested way that our forefathers did.
Only in today's day and age, nothing is as simple as it seems.
First, everything that gets published in the paper also gets published electronically. Which means any yahoo with a screen name can go ahead and comment on what you commented on. But it doesn't stop there. Because, thanks to the internet, they can also "google" you and find out way more than they should be allowed to find out.
Which is the drawback to writing the traditional letter to the editor. Because, as is the editorial policy of any reputable newspaper for as long as I can remember, letter writers must provide their real name and address for verification purposes. And, of course, these get published.
But the posters don't have to do that. They get the upper hand. They get to find out more about you and then use it to besmirch your reputation. And what really sucks is that they use the information whether it's accurate or not. Case in point - one of the posters to my letter insists I teach kindergarten. Kindergarten!! I'd rather eat drywall nails!!
Anyway, the posters are one thing. Put yourself out there and there will always be someone who will be gunning for you. And anyway, at least I have enough guts to put my name to it.
But this "too much information" thing is now getting out of hand. Strangers are now calling my home and sharing their opinions directly. That's right - they are looking up my name and getting my phone number and actually CALLING me.
Which is total bullshit as far as I'm concerned.
Hey, you have something to say - write it down. Either as a letter to the editor or a cowardly comment added to an electronic copy of the letter. But keep the personal phone calls and direct attacks to yourself.
But one thing that remains in this electronic day and age is the good, old fashioned "Letter to the Editor." Or so I thought.
Recently, a columnist raised my ire enough to get me to write a letter to the editor of the local paper. I was exercising my constitutional right of freedom of speech in the time tested way that our forefathers did.
Only in today's day and age, nothing is as simple as it seems.
First, everything that gets published in the paper also gets published electronically. Which means any yahoo with a screen name can go ahead and comment on what you commented on. But it doesn't stop there. Because, thanks to the internet, they can also "google" you and find out way more than they should be allowed to find out.
Which is the drawback to writing the traditional letter to the editor. Because, as is the editorial policy of any reputable newspaper for as long as I can remember, letter writers must provide their real name and address for verification purposes. And, of course, these get published.
But the posters don't have to do that. They get the upper hand. They get to find out more about you and then use it to besmirch your reputation. And what really sucks is that they use the information whether it's accurate or not. Case in point - one of the posters to my letter insists I teach kindergarten. Kindergarten!! I'd rather eat drywall nails!!
Anyway, the posters are one thing. Put yourself out there and there will always be someone who will be gunning for you. And anyway, at least I have enough guts to put my name to it.
But this "too much information" thing is now getting out of hand. Strangers are now calling my home and sharing their opinions directly. That's right - they are looking up my name and getting my phone number and actually CALLING me.
Which is total bullshit as far as I'm concerned.
Hey, you have something to say - write it down. Either as a letter to the editor or a cowardly comment added to an electronic copy of the letter. But keep the personal phone calls and direct attacks to yourself.
Thursday, May 27, 2010
If you know me, you get it
Favorite John Lennon song - for a lot of reasons:
Watching the Wheels - John Lennon (from Double Fantasy)
People say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that I'm o.k. well they look at me kind of strange
Surely you're not happy now you no longer play the game
People say I'm lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell them that I'm doing fine watching shadows on the wall
Don't you miss the big time boy you're no longer on the ball
I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
Ah, people asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them there's no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I've lost my mind
I tell them there's no hurry
I'm just sitting here doing time
I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go
Watching the Wheels - John Lennon (from Double Fantasy)
People say I'm crazy doing what I'm doing
Well they give me all kinds of warnings to save me from ruin
When I say that I'm o.k. well they look at me kind of strange
Surely you're not happy now you no longer play the game
People say I'm lazy dreaming my life away
Well they give me all kinds of advice designed to enlighten me
When I tell them that I'm doing fine watching shadows on the wall
Don't you miss the big time boy you're no longer on the ball
I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
Ah, people asking questions lost in confusion
Well I tell them there's no problem, only solutions
Well they shake their heads and they look at me as if I've lost my mind
I tell them there's no hurry
I'm just sitting here doing time
I'm just sitting here watching the wheels go round and round
I really love to watch them roll
No longer riding on the merry-go-round
I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go
I just had to let it go
Monday, May 24, 2010
Yet another. . gone too soon
There is a simple truth in life that my grandmother had once shared with me. She said "Parents aren't supposed to bury their children". I don't really remember the context that brought about that quote but, nevertheless, the quote has stayed with me all these years.
I can add to that quote now - coaches aren't supposed to bury their players. We're just not. Especially coaches of youth sports teams. These kids are so young, so full of life, that they are supposed to grow up, have kids of their own, coach them, and then grow old - just like the rest of us.
But that doesn't always work out. Like today.
Vinny Desario died today. He never woke up from the vicious beating he took at the hands of a homeless, illegal immigrant with too much time and a baseball bat in his hands.
That makes two - two players from one of my teams that I will have buried before me. Two young lives that will never have the chance to grow to fruition, to experience all that I have experienced, to share the love of a game that we all loved together.
Vinny was such a great kid. A real friend to all who knew him. If there is any truth to the phrase "only the good die young" then Vinny is the embodiment of that phrase.
I can't even imagine what his parents are going through. His mother, Paula, never at a loss for words. His father John, just one of the nicest, most genuine people you could ever meet. I don't know how they recover from this and go on - but I know they will.
I really don't know what else to say today. I'm grateful for having had Vinny and his family in my life. And my heart goes out to them in their time of incredible grief.
And I'm glad I don't coach anymore.
I can add to that quote now - coaches aren't supposed to bury their players. We're just not. Especially coaches of youth sports teams. These kids are so young, so full of life, that they are supposed to grow up, have kids of their own, coach them, and then grow old - just like the rest of us.
But that doesn't always work out. Like today.
Vinny Desario died today. He never woke up from the vicious beating he took at the hands of a homeless, illegal immigrant with too much time and a baseball bat in his hands.
That makes two - two players from one of my teams that I will have buried before me. Two young lives that will never have the chance to grow to fruition, to experience all that I have experienced, to share the love of a game that we all loved together.
Vinny was such a great kid. A real friend to all who knew him. If there is any truth to the phrase "only the good die young" then Vinny is the embodiment of that phrase.
I can't even imagine what his parents are going through. His mother, Paula, never at a loss for words. His father John, just one of the nicest, most genuine people you could ever meet. I don't know how they recover from this and go on - but I know they will.
I really don't know what else to say today. I'm grateful for having had Vinny and his family in my life. And my heart goes out to them in their time of incredible grief.
And I'm glad I don't coach anymore.
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