The English Beat Land in Huntington

1/25/13 07:06 Heading to Stony Brook

It’s hot on the train and my head feels heavy from the extra beers I had last night.  The English Beat played at the Paramount in Huntington.  It gave a chance for elder hipsters, punks and skasters to get out on a week night.  I was excited when I learned the Scofflaws were opening.  Back in the eighties I saw them a couple of times.  Back then they were known as the New Bohemians.  Eddie Brickell’s management paid $600 to buy the name and in ’88 they transformed into the legends they are.  Eric picked me up at the Huntington train station.  Before he came I saw a young man carrying an instrument case, wearing a black suit and tie.  I asked if he was playing that night, and he said he was.  Jared is the trombone player for The Scofflaws and has played with them for the last couple of years.  I was curious if they toured.  These days he said they still get out, but don’t go too far from the New York base.  It’s not worth it.  I ate a light dinner at a Greek restaurant.  The air was freezing. It was so cold it took my breath away even though it was a short walk.   Inside The Paramount it was empty, maybe twenty of us were scattered on seats and around the open floor.   I was worried this would be a dead turnout, but gradually more people came in and when The Scofflaws hit the stage there were about a hundred or so.  There was another opening band from Long Island, RPS who was… alright.  They are known for playing reggae as per their web site.  You need to have style to play ska.  The RPS boys were dressed down and looked out of place. Honestly, The Scofflaws could have handled being the one and only band opening for The English Beat.  “Sammy” Brooks the singer and sax man had excellent stage presence.  He grew up in Huntington and shared a story when he was a kid, a group of his friends tried to sneak in the theatre (when they played movies back in 68) to see The Beatle’s Yellow Submarine and were caught by the manager who eventually let them in  to watch the film.  I’m dying on the train, I have the sweats and I feel my stomach bubbling.  I didn’t drink too many beers, but enough to send me over in hangover lethargy and regret.  The English Beat hit the stage.   I thought the black man was Ranking Roger, but it was not.  His name as we learned and he repeated was Anthony, who kept the crowd dancing and calling back and forth (I looked it up, his name is Antonee First Class) When he called out, who likes the eighties? I got pissed.  The show at that moment became an oldies show.  Yes, let’s waltz back in time…to the good old days when the threat of Margaret Thatcher or a nuclear war was eminent.  It was an oldies show since the last time The English Beat released a new album was back in…1982?  Special Beat Service which I received as a Christmas present when I was 16? Face the fact, it was an oldies show and I am paying the price for a late night at this moment.  I will have waves of energy and others like now when I am slinking in my seat.  The seats are filling up on the train.  I feel like I will heave if I had the opportunity.   Trying to tell my body I have an hour or more to get into the office. 

Saturday 15:08 Home

I need to wrap up this entry with the performance of the English Beat.  There was only one original member and  Dave Wakeling’s voice was perfect, he smiled and shared some antidotes with the crowd, but with his accent it was hard to decipher what he was saying, except I thought he said they shouldn’t have to pick on Thatcher anymore.  His smile barely left his face, bowed a few times after some songs and thanked us for coming out.  He even said, “God Bless you.”  That was nice in a different way since I rarely hear it at a concert, more often it’s after a speech from a sensible politician.  Songs?  Mirror in the bathroom, Jeanette, Sole Salvation, Tears of a Clown, I Confess, Safe it For Later - which the extended though it didn’t need to be extended.  They played some songs from General Public, Tenderness.  After the concert my intoxicated mind made the decision to get Wakeling’s autograph on my ticket.  I asked if he can sign it and he apologized since he didn’t have a pen, but like a good man, he found the pen and came back to the edge of the stage.  The security guard blocked me and Dave smiled and made a joke, come on…Dave signed my ticket and I stumbled off in the frigid winter winds in my light leather coat.  Thank you to my brother-in-law and my sister for allowing the man a night out.  We had a good time and plan on starting a band.  Look for the Dead Beat Dad’s on tour this summer or was it a drunkards dream.

Newsday publishes my essay

http://www.newsday.com/opinion/oped/a-commuter-s-ticket-to-inspiration-1.2610397

Finding time to write: A transition

Finding the time to write takes discipline and time management. Most of us are inspired by thoughts of escaping the family by writing poetry in sealed cards, think of Raymond Carver. When I shared the news that my novel was released, I received a collection of expressions. Surprise was the first, followed by questions such as, “Where do you find the time to write? I didn’t know you wrote? What is the novel about? Do you think they’d make it into a movie?” This brings me to this essay. I have loved writing since I was a boy; I’d sit on top of the staircase landing and write stories or draw. The stories were not important to me, it was the fact I was using my imagination and could feel this simmering joy. I was tapping into a force, some call it Zen others the force of God, creating…whatever it was, I was at peace in the world in my little corner on top of the landing.
For many years I followed the paths that other writers made. Like Kerouac I joined the Navy and worked as a merchant marine. I was also a house painter, construction worker, farm hand. I had some short stories published and poetry. But I was avoiding the practicality life. Being responsible for my actions, my savings, pursuing a college degree and finding a career were not acceptable. I was the grand escape artist who wanted to live many lives, experience the rush of life and barely survive; I wanted to suffer for my art until a friend told me life should not be about suffering. After years of running I realized I was lost.
Life blesses us, we adapt to our struggles and surroundings. I settled down, married a beautiful articulate woman and we began to raise our children on shared principles like respect and love. My writing eventually drifted back to the weekends and only when the chores and bills were paid. If I was lucky I wrote for a few hours on Saturday. The more children we had the less time there was to write. With four children, my passion to write was transferred to watching my loves become amazing individuals.
When my hours changed at work and I was frequently late. My boss suggested leaving the house earlier, but I was already on the road for an hour and a half each way. I could leave at 6:45 to start at 9…but he also suggested looking into the train. What a great suggestion. Commuting was a blessing. I discovered the lost time and could use the ride to write. One night while on the train I was alone in the cabin and realized anyone could take me out and there would be no witnesses. That moment was the inspiration for Killer Commute. I don’t complain if the fares go up or if there are delays. The train has salvaged my simmering joy.

Auto Train to Orlando

Last night we arrived at the Springfield, VA Courtyard a little after 9 PM. The pool was closing so we changed quickly and enjoyed the hot tub and pool. A father and his two daughters joined in and soon the kids were eying each other suspiciously and doing their own thing. The father took over the hot tub, and we dried off and headed off to the courtyard. It was warm last night. I bought a beer, and we headed back to the room. Lights were off a quarter to 11. By 6 AM I was awake and ready to go. I finished up some work, and wrote my weekly while the rest of the bums got dressed, took showers and watched the Disney Channel.
We ate breakfast, really brunch at Bob Evans, I had eggs and pancakes and sausage and OJ and coffee. The food wasn’t too bad, but the waitress had an extremely dry sense of humor. Not sure how he day was going, but she told us she was there since 5:15.
Afterwards, knowing we had time to kill, we drove to DC and went to FDR’s memorial. It’s a beautiful display, using boulders and water, and is the only presidential memorial which includes the first lady. Took some pictures with Amanda standing next to the statue.
We’ve been at the Larton terminal since 1 PM. This is our first time and we didn’t know what to expect. Not sure if our seats would be next to one another. The process was very easy. We drove the car, checked in and watched as our car was inspected and videotaped, since they wanted to make sure there were no erroneous claims of damage. I took Bell and Joe outside for a walk. We had an hour and half to kill. The depot building is very roomy and bright. The building is air conditioned and modern. A TV is playing in the corner, and there is a small café, a shop really in one corner. From the look of it, the place appears to be in Florida.
It appears as if people are boarding though there was no announcement made. Just waiting for Ali to get back since she bought TUMS. This place is emptying fast. Time to go?
We’re on the train. There is a lot of room. It’s very comfortable. Whoever is sitting behind me is playing with the foot rests. The seat is knocking. There is a family next and behind us. This is not going to be a quiet train, but let’s see how it works out. I can use an ADVIL.
Instead of Advil I had a couple of beers. Dinner was served at 5 PM and 7 PM – we chose the early dinner since there was a movie playing for the kids at 7…I had cod and veggies and rice. The food was very good. With dinner came white wine and water and choices like iced tea and apple juice for the kids. They were given the choice of chicken fingers, and mac and cheese. There was a lot of food. The other options were a beef or veggie lasagna. The settings were pleasant, a flower on each table as well as silverware, but the cups were plastic, as well as the plates. For dessert we had cheese cake with a couple of options, either covered in strawberry or chocolate.
Overall it was quiet, but one neighbor watched a movie on his laptop and the language was not appropriate for children. A couple had two little ones on-board and it took them a long time to fall asleep. Music came over the loud speaker but was shut off close of 8 PM and soon after lights were shut down and we got comfortable.
Sleeping was a little bit of a challenge. Trying to get my 6 foot 4 body comfortable – even in reclining chairs was interesting. I bent my legs and curled in the seat, and propped the small pillow on a corner as well as my sweat pants.
I’m typing this, knowing we’re expected to arrive an hour earlier. Amanda and I had breakfast and met an older couple from Florida. Cereal as well as warm bagels and muffins were served, coffee and OJ as well. A good start to the vacation…rise and shine we are in Florida.