Either Change or else

12/13/19 23:33 Bethlehem, PA

Tonight, I was busy at a meeting. I came home after it and watched Marc Maron on Netflix.  Ate a pint of ice cream and it was delicious.  I have not seen Maron’s standup and will watch another show.  It was alright.  But I feel like I am reflecting his shtick.  Just alright.  There were a few times I laughed, lots of smiles, but it was alright.  I am debating on buying a ticket to see him live in Huntington or hang on to the money because I should save the money for someone who I really want to see.  Eckhart Tolle is speaking in Boston, that would be worth it.  But that means a hotel and I would like to invite Mo Cheeks, as long as we are talking to one another. That’s two tickets and a hotel.  It would be nice to visit Boston in June.  Anyway, I am deflecting.  Received my annual review and it did not go very well.  Needs improvement.  Sounds like I am in back in school, this comment was the common response from my teachers.  Michael, needs improvement.  I agreed on the points, I can improve in areas and for the rest of the day I was fixated on the possibility I was going to get fired in the near future.  Let’s get through Christmas and kick him to the curb in January.  This was their way to set the course so the day it does happen, you’re fired, will not be a surprise.  I can either accept that defeatist attitude or admit my mistakes and make every effort to improve.  Either run and hide or work my ass off and get better. It’s pretty simple and I recall the President saying to me today, “I have confidence in you.”  So, off to a new and better direction.  As long as I set the course and take action.

Thank you for reading this.

Riding the ferry to Bridgeport

2/18/17 08:15 on board the ferry to Bridgeport

It was one of those nights when the bright moon light was shining on my side of the bed.  I’m not sure what time I was woken up by the light.  I watched as the crescent drifted across the night sky, getting up once to use the bathroom and going back to sleep.  Tried to turn to the opposite direction, but Ali was snoring.  She apologized and turned over.  It was one of those nights when sleep was broken and I am sitting here on this floating metal machine as we sail across the Long Island Sound to Bridgeport.  Somewhere off the coast of Connecticut there is a Russian spy ship or trawler. I don’t see any boats or tankers.  In the summer, Jet Ski jumpers are ripping through the breaking waves in the wake of the ferry.  Sailboats are lingering in light breezes.  Boats are everywhere.  It is stark outside.  The sky is light blue.  The weather is expected to be beautiful this weekend which is one reason for the crowd on this ferry.  We assume we’d get on early.  We assumed we would beat the crowds.  Take the 0800 and be on our way to Boston.  Seeing this packed ferry, all seats taken… I am anticipating heavy traffic.  The abundance of travelling families is on packed display, with kids and dogs and friends and whatever else they have brought with them for this holiday weekend.  President’s Day is one of those holidays that sneak up on us.  Many of us are not aware that Monday is a Federal Holiday and schools, banks and some companies are closed.  Sharp Clinical is closed.  I packed some running gear since I like to run in new towns and yet curious to see how much snow the area received.  If there is too much snow, I will hit the treadmill for a few miles, three miles. I don’t like running on the machine.  It is boring, facing the same wall, watching a small screen the audio on mute and my thoughts are a circular pattern of; this is boring, why is it taking so long?  Only a quarter of mile?  Here we are.  Waiting to get to the other side.  I can hear the rampant conversations and the lulls. There is laughter.  There is anticipation of seeing Mo Cheeks and the rest of our family.  I want to hit a book store.  There I said it, the man with too many books wants to hit another store.  We sit packed together on this long bench.  

Thank you for reading this.

Moving our daughter into her first apartment in a city far away

08:51 Woburn, MA

Yesterday, three of us packed the minivan in the morning, stopped for breakfast at McDonalds and took the ferry to Bridgeport. The minivan was packed with Amanda’s clothes, posters, small furniture since Ali and I were moving her into her first apartment.  While sailing over, Ali helped with a sales report since I could not find my reading glasses, but after she sent the report, I found them to my relief.  We stopped at a Cracker Barrel just past the Massachusetts border.  Overall the ride was uneventful.   Traffic flowed, I could barely see through the rear view window, but kept my eye out for a trooper since I was hitting 80 on the highway. I listened to classic rock and Ali dozed off for a good twenty minutes since she was up till 0100 talking to Mo Cheeks.  We pulled off at the Cambridge exit and took narrow roads, lefts and rights and then we pulled up in front to the house where my daughter will call home for a few months.  The landlady was young, and showed us inside the house.  It was very spacious and yet bare.  Amanda would be able to use the living room and of course the kitchen.  Then we took the stairs, which were two flights and then up another steep set that would be a challenge for a swearing mountain climber.  The stairs led to where her apartment is.  It’s a converted attic and yet roomy.  There are two rooms which were modestly furnished.  We unpacked the minivan.  Even the landlady helped us move her things.  Getting a bulky and hefty box up the steep steps was an adventure; yes that what it was.  While Ali assisted Mo Cheeks putting together a dresser, I sat in the living room as the sun was setting and read a book by Zen master Jack Kornfield.   Amanda’s friend came over and soon after I took a walk to take in the neighborhood which is close to Harvard.  Earlier, a family strolled by and we smiled to each other, they were pushing a baby in a cart.  In fact we saw a lot of young families last night and before you think it I will say it, time moves swiftly.  Years ago when we lived in Northport, I'd push Amanda in the stroller down to the village and into the park.  She loved the swings.  Reading Kornfield was a gracious blessing, since there are nourishing lessons, such as; live in the present.  I can’t say I was emotional last night.  Not to say I want Amanda to live away from us.   But I know how eager she is to create the life she wants.  When I came home from our sales meeting this past Friday, I was greeted by some hugs, but what I loved was seeing the four kids, our youngest who is now a teenager, sitting together on the sofa watching a movie they could agree on.  I’m grateful they are very close to each other and I know in two weeks we will be back in Boston and perhaps can see the changes Amanda has made in her new place and learn about her job and the experiences of being a young motivated woman in Boston.  I hope she can appreciate this time in her life since this freedom can be fleeting.  Enjoy the adventure.

Thank you for reading this.

Off to Boston!

4/10/15 Woburn, MA

The six of us are sleeping in a hotel room.  Initially the plan was Amanda would take either Emma or Amanda to spend two nights in her dorm room at Simmons.  Instead, she wanted to spend the night with us.  As we were checking in, I asked the front desk manager for a roll-a-bed, but there was none.  He offered a blow up mattress which we took, but that left one of us sleeping on the floor.  Off to Target to buy some snacks and… a blow up mattress.  Ali reasoned it is cheaper than paying for another room.  True.   These trips are hitting my wallet hard so I was up for the suggestion.  Today, we dropped off Amanda at the state house in Boston where she is working for a representative.   Seeing her dressed formally, like a professional was a surprise, our Mo Cheeks is growing up and she loves her job.   After dropping her off we drove out to the Kennedy Museum and made plans to visit the new Edward M Kennedy wing.   We have been to the JFK museum before and for the most part, the displays are the same.  I was not alive when JFK was President. Still, the Kennedy’s had a celebrity status for us, perhaps a near god realm for many Irish families.  But over the years and decades the myth has cracked and most of us have learned our heroes were fallible humans.   They were closer to all of us.   The JFK museum traces the career of JFK.  There is a short documentary which captures his career up to the 1960 Democratic Presidential nomination.   The museum has many displays which are distinct, for instance there is the Attorney General, Robert F Kennedy office, I wanted to sit in his chair yet decided it was best not to.  There is the oval office which has JFK’s favorite mementos, the rocking chair, and special trinkets from his desk.  There is a display of Jacqueline Kennedy and her impact on international relations. 

  

Next, we were off to the Edward Kennedy Institute for the US Senate.  This is a new facility and for its recent opening President Obama was there as well as Vice President Biden.   The museum is more interactive, after you check in you are provided a device which you will use throughout the museum.  You register yourself as a senator, pick a party and can be from any of the fifty states.  For those of us who are curious how the senate and of houses work, this museum will feed your passion.   What is different; you participate, you learn.  By the end I had more than a memory of displays but gained more insight into our government’s practices.  It’s unfortunate that Mo Cheeks could not join us.  

Long Island has a new airline, Pen Air flying to Boston - all aboard!

Monday September 9, 2013 19:33 10,000 feet or more above Connecticut

Flying Pen Air for the first time from Islip to Boston.  We took off from the old terminal, B 17 to be exact.  I recalled bringing Phil there when he was in the Navy and watching the red lights of his US Air prop fly away into the night.  That was when you can wait at the gate seeing the passengers off or waiting for their arrival, that was before 9/11 and the necessary security measures. I’m sitting in the last row.  The seat does not recline, yet there is a woman in front of me and she is stretched out like a beached whale and asking for more to drink.  There is a steward, an older gentleman who speaks gently.  I watched his pre-flight routine unlike the other flights I’ve taken just because he asked me to pay attention and there was only him, not a line of attendants.  Behind the steward are the pilots who are behind a locked door.  It’s a smooth flight thus far.  I was thrilled with the prospect of taking a prop and felt a rush when we pulled away from the gate, passing the dark green National Guard helicopters, a row of Cessna’s and I remember the lessons I took at Mid-Island all those years and moneys in the past.  Up to Boston to see Mo Cheeks tonight and then driving to Wooster to spend the night and to meet Todd King.  If feels as if we are descending….and we are.  19:41 the steward made an announcement we have started the decent.  It will take at least another ten minutes before wheels are down, and I can feel the wind on the narrow plane as we move into the area.  Amazing.  Time to shut her off.

September 10, 2013 17:56 10,000 feet above Connecticut

Last night Amanda met me at the baggage claim at the airport, holding a sign she made: DAD…it makes me smile thinking about it.  We took a shuttle bus to the Enterprise terminal and I was struck how subtle she was as she flirted with the young man helping us.  She was sweet, but as I looked down they were giving each other the eye perhaps since I was in my jovial good mood.  I was with my daughter.  Had meetings today with Todd up in Boston, the first was out of the way and will remain nameless.  I think it’s best to keep a distance from writing about work and my blog.  That’s all.  It’s overcast up in the clouds, which is different from what we had last night.  A clear flight up to Boston, a little rocky, but not too bad. I plan on using this airlines more often since it’s easy.  You walk on and can sit wherever you’d like.  I chose the same seat as last night.  Like a train commuter we like our seats and keep returning to them.   We’re rocking a little more and I imagine we’re getting ready to land soon.   Airport to airport 45 minutes, but if I drove…five hours at least in traffic…so the flight is much better.  I can see the Long Island Sound or perhaps that is the ocean….the sun is setting.  We were told it’s a gusty on the ground…but it looks as if the clouds are clearing up.  I will be home for dinner and will need to write more of my novel.  I can’t believe I didn’t call Katie or Ben, but this was a pure business trip, except for seeing Mo Cheeks.  I should add we bought some ice cream down the block from her school; I had pumpkin since I’m off the beer.  What route are we flying?  I’m closing up since I’m expecting to feel…and there it goes…the decent…and Long Island is below.

The PawSox vs The Durham Bulls

5/4/13 08:51 Stoughton, MA

I wanted to write for a few minutes since I will be leaving this town to pick up Mo Cheeks and bringing her home.  Her school year is over and we are all looking forward to having her back in our daily lives.  I’m curious how the bomb experience impacted her.  Yesterday I left Port Jeff around 12:00 and made it to Pawtuckett Rhode Island to see the Paw Sox take on the Durham Bulls.  On the way up I hit traffic just after Stamford, but I gave myself enough time. I was in Bridgeport by two and was set to be at McCoy Stadium at 5 PM.  On the way up I saw a terrible accident, what appeared to be a minivan that crashed in the woods.  A Helicopter was parked, motionless on the highway.  A cherry picker was trying to hook up the van since it ran up a hill and was deep within the trees.  Yellow plastic bags were laid out on the ground, were their bodies in there?  Then again I noticed ambulances heading West earlier, maybe they carried the passengers, then why the helicopter?  Traffic was at a standstill, cars were parked on 95, the drivers and passengers were out, one man climbed up a hill in hopes to see ahead of the cars, but he was too far back. A minivan with kids had their windows open and small heads craned to see the devastation and violence that occurred.  Keep moving.  You’re too young to see it.  I made it to Pawtucket and thought I’d have a couple of hours to kill, but the game started a little after six.   You drive through the small city to get to the stadium and can easily get lost.  Free parking till it fills up.

 I bought a ticket from a scalper for 10, in the green section.  I was inside the historic stadium early enough to watch the ground keepers, sweep around the batter’s box so there was not a foot print anywhere, the surface was smooth like brown ice.  I sat with a family.  The dad sold the ticket to the scalper who sold it to me.  The wife said I looked liked someone she knew.  I have one of those common faces except for my Roman nose.  That makes an indelible impression.  She agreed.  The grandmother wanted to share popcorn with me, really nice people, but I sat next to the father a big guy around my age with a booming voice who cared less about the game and more about the beer.  Before the game some players sign autographs, the fans place balls and cards in empty milk jugs that are tied to string and lower it down to the player.   It was a cold night and difficult to see the game with the glare of the setting sun.  The Sox won the game.  I got a foul ball and I made it to the hotel in about a half hour.  Time for a beer. 

A Bomb explodes in Boston a block away from my daughter

There is a lot to write about since this past week I was on vacation.  Let’s start with the bombs in Boston.  That Monday afternoon, I was paying for some food at the super market and had all the kids when Ali called.  She said Amanda just called her and she is Okay, but I will hear soon enough that two bombs exploded in the city.  She was walking towards to finishing line and then the bombs,,,she was safe, but was running away from the explosions with another friend from Simmons.  It was a terrorist act.  Being so far removed from Boston and trying to buffer the kids from what occurred was frustrating.  I wanted to drive up there and take her home. No child of mine should have to experience this.  Soon the rest of them found out what occurred as we turned from the Disney channel and watched the horrific news - a panic set in.   What was that red stuff?  Bella asked as the picture hovered over the sidewalk where blood was splattered, not sure I said, it could be fabric.  Yeah, she said there are a lot of flags there.  Listening to Amanda I could hear the shock in her quiet, shaken voice, that tried to sound controlled.  She repeated like a monk in a mantra, yeah….yeah…yeah after every response.  Evidence of post traumatic stress.  Violence changes life rapidly.  Earlier that day – Patriots day in Boston - she texted me, telling me she was on her way to see the Sox play.  I was happy for her, but she said she missed me.  The city of Boston and The Red Sox have a special place in our lives.   What a general statement without real resonance.  There is a charm Boston retains that appeals to our senses, the way history and dusty decades remain with a New England pride for generations.  Over the years, I brought Amanda to a couple of Sox games.  Once when she was a little girl we flew up there using discounted - standby tickets which someone from Delta lent to me.  For about thirty dollars we flew to Boston and back.  This was before 9/11…and caught a game on a warm autumn day.  Since we flew stand by, flying home was a bit of a challenge; we had to sit separately. It didn’t upset the curious and personable child who bid me farewell and told me she was fine, she sat back in her seat, feet dangling over the seat and struck up a conversation with the woman next to her as I sat alone and pondered how I was going to explain to Ali that our precious five year-old daughter sat next to a stranger on the flight home.  We survived.  After the bombing she was picked up from her dorm by Katie and Ben and brought back to Watertown - where they live - to get out of the city.  It helped, but she was still shaken and did not attend classes on Tuesday.  Simmons College gave the women the option of not attending.  On Wednesday she was back in class and feeling better.   Each day Amanda called Ali or I...yes sometimes I got the call...on the rare chance Ali was not available.  Funny how we always go back to our mothers when we encounter something horrible, but no mother can be prepared to console a child who witnessed two explosions.  Ali was in her element.  By Friday night, after being locked down on campus all day - Mo Cheeks and the rest of Boston and Watertown were dancing in the streets.  We survive through another day and grow stronger, but live with that uneasy feeling - and the unanswered question, why do this? Yesterday, I drove into Citi Field for the first time this season.  This was Bella’s first trip to Citi Field and since she is my baseball buddy as she tells me she is, I felt it was appropriate to ask her if she wanted to go.  Sure was all she responded with.  The other kids could care less about baseball.   Although it was a chilly day we made it to the stadium in about an hour, paid the $20 for parking and passed through security.  I wanted Bella to experience the rotunda at Citi Field, and pointed out the pictures of Jackie Robinson, one with them at a graduation procession and she was impressed with the link to history.  We went to the fan center where kids can play waffle ball and other games and then bought some pizza.  Standing while the national anthem played, with our hands on our hearts, we then took an escalator up to our section 307.  After an inning there it was due time for my sausage and peppers and down we went to find the vendor. I bought her some ice cream as well and we shared a Pepsi.  The wind was picking up, foolishly I wore shorts and we were in the shade.  It was freezing.  The seats will be perfect if it was raining, but it was cold and she didn’t want to move to the warm open seats in the sun light in case we were kicked out.  So we stayed and watched The Mets come back and then headed off to our car and drove to Queen’s museum.  I asked if she wanted to see the globe from the World’s fair and she did…after that I drove around the expressway and felt my steering wheel pull to the right, I thought some part or belt came lose or was damaged.  A van passed us and the passenger pointed to my front wheel, You Gotta Flat!  I changed it with the Manhattan skyline in the distance and gave Bella a lesson on changing tires.  It was the first time I changed a tire in years and felt lucky, it was not raining or bitter cold.  We were done and back on the road to home.   After a dinner at Friendly’s – it was her choice, we watched some videos on You Tube, decent music like The Clash and Cracker (her request) Fishbone, Problems Arise and I played Camper Van Beethoven, Take the Skinheads Bowling, which is now one of her favorite songs.  This morning we came downstairs, I gave her the medication and she played Take the Skinheads Bowling and sang along to it….Everyday I wake up and pray to Jah…  

The jayHawks at The Beacon 10/21/11

10/21/11 18:07
In a little while I will be up at the local high school for the homecoming game, soon they will start the bon fire and burn the effigies of Qaddafi and Bin Laden. Not so. That was a joke. Last night I saw the JayHawks with Erik. It was the spur of the moment event. Each time I hear the band on WFUV, I’m curious if they’re coming around. So, I bought tickets. I don’t know the history of the band. I know they broke up and are back together. The original line up played the Beacon. I think that's what we saw. The opening act was Roseanne Cash which I have to report we missed. Traffic on the 59th St Bridge crawled into the city. The bridge is free, saves $9 in tolls. We found a spot on the street, saving $27. These amounts floated in my head since I shelled out $100 for the two tickets though Erik drove and he said he’d pay me back. For dinner we splurged and bought a Recession Meal ($5) at Papaya King, 2 hot dogs and Papaya juice and headed up to get into the theatre. There were scalpers outside. The show was not sold out. One was ready to give us two tickets for the price of one. Next time I may scalp. The crowd was older than I thought. The venue was ornate. The last time I was in the Beacon was to see REM on their Little America tour for their second album, Reckoning. Erick bought two beers, $17 and we went in. The band wasn’t on yet. The crowd was better dressed than us, the middle aged woman were - beautiful - in dresses, men in sports jackets and we stood there in our sweat jackets and scruffy hair. We took our seats after I bought a round for us. The stage was sparse, no back drop, just the stage lights. A drunkish gentlemen sitting next to me asked, “What’s your favorite JayHawks song?” I don’t know any. Here’s the deal, I have this fear of being put on the spot like that. Reminds me when I was in 8th grade and hanging out with Bob Pelton at the pizzeria in East Northport, MaMa Jean’s II. We don’t know where the first one was. This girl came up to me, some hippie chick who was in a grade older than me and asks, “What’s your favorite band?” I don’t know why but I wanted to impress her and I said, “Led Zeppelin.” I guess this was the answer everyone in the place was giving her so she wanted some validation - I knew what the fuck I was talking about. This brings me back to drunk fuck sitting next to me. She asked me all of these decades before, “What’s your favorite song by Zep and don’t say Stairway to Heaven.” It was the only sing I knew the title of. She pointed her finger at me as if she knew I was talking shit. I said nothing back to her. Should have asked her why she wanted to know. Why do you care? If I was 46 back then I may have: instead of getting embarrassed -when she asked me who my favorite band was. If I was honest and said, Boston and their song Don’t Look Back it would have been a closed door case. I was the ass and I was an ass last night since I fumbled out, “Ah, I don’t know any titles…I like what I hear on WFUV. I think they sound cool, sort of like Big Star.” Drunk fuck had a blank look on his face and said slowly, “I like their song, Blue.” I nodded and turned my attention back to Erik. Here’s the review for the show. Good. Most of the songs were off their new CD, which I’m listening to as I’m typing – the song Stand Out In the Rain “Where you going all alone…were you gone.” It was beautiful, since the lyrics brought me back to a distant moment when I was in the rain with an old girlfriend. They have a sort of Neal Young twist as well. They played High Water Blues with the singer removing his guitar and holding the mic and appearing so awkward, like when a teacher performs with his teachers band in front of the students at the school's variety show. He danced a little, and knew he couldn’t dance and then kept his attention on their keyboardist who would reassure him with a slight smile from her lips. It’s alright honey, just go back to the guitar. No, please don’t pump your fist…oh, there you…go. Since I’m not a huge fan and there were at least twelve huge fans in the audience, who waited after the show for some of the members to sign their CD, I felt like I was wrapped in a sort of distant quasi culture. I’m curious to learn more about the musicians. The drummer sang lead on one song and was in perfect harmony with the lead guitarist. After the show we crawled back on the 59th bridge back to Queens, and I made it home this morning like a rock star at 2:30. The college kids at corner house were holding a huge party, but I put a end to it with a call to the cops since I wasn’t going to confront fifty drunk college kids and their plastic cups filled with warm beer. The cops came and silence rose into the night for some sleep before the sun rose over our house.