Heading into the city on a date with my wife

2/27/16 15:30 Home

In about a half hour, Ali and I are taking the kids (who are here…Amanda is in Boston) over to her parent’s house and then heading into the city to see a play on Broadway.  Sam Shepherds play, Buried Child which stars Ed Harris as well as Amy Madigan.  I have always wanted to see a Sam Shepherd play.  The theater offers partial view seats for $25, so I pounced on them since the pair is less than one standard seat, but besides the cheap seats we are heading into the city on a clear night and having some time alone.  It will be interesting to see how the conversations begin and what topics we will cover.  School, work, politics, and I know her dreaded subject, our sex lives.  That is fine, I will go easy on her about our sex lives.  Maybe I will leave this one off the table and try to avoid it all together unless she brings it up which the truth be told; will not happen.  I woke up fairly early this morning, Bella came into our room since she could not sleep.  I took her bed - in in her room and feel I know what is causing her to wake up; the cats.  They are constantly playing in the hall, running into her room, one leaped onto my head since he wanted to see outside the window.  Why?  It’s early and the sun was barely out.  But, in my half sleep and wakeful mindset; I was able to catch the flying cat in midair and flung him back across the room. He trotted off looking more embarrassed than anything else. I got up and used the bathroom and tried to fall asleep for a little longer.  I closed the door to the room, thinking that would keep the cats out, but they nudged the door open and I was back to hearing their cries and clawing at the carpet.  I got out of the bed and made my way downstairs and was struck by the amount of plates that were in the sink and on the sides of the counter.  I unloaded the dishwasher, loaded it and cleaned the pots and was gently kissed on the lips by my beautiful wife who was grateful for the work.  It was then time for a mediation in the basement.  I don’t know what it is, but there are sittings which I know where not beneficial or conducive.  This morning was one of them.  My mind kept jumping around and I was not able to let the thoughts pass, just like the thoughts in this entry.

Thank you for reading this

Just got tickets on TicketWeb for Sally Can't Dance - The Stooges with Special Guest J Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. at The Bowery Electric on 03/10/16

Just got tickets on TicketWeb for Sally Can't Dance - The Stooges with Special Guest J Mascis of Dinosaur Jr. at The Bowery Electric on 03/10/16

The Dead & Company and a Grateful Dead story to share with you

2/10/16 20:55

Last year, the remaining members of the Grateful Dead announced they would play their last concerts together, it was called the The Fair Thee Well Tour.  It was to celebrate the band’s 50^th anniversary.  There were three shows in Chicago over the Fourth of July Weekend and two in Northern California where the 49ers play their games.  All of the shows were sold out.  The band chose a lottery system, instead of buying your tickets online you needed to write in and request your tickets. I think they were limited to two tickets per winner.  The lucky few who chose to be creative on their envelopes were chosen in another contest, it ensued to who was the most creative as well as lucky.  I didn’t attempt to write in since I was never a real fan of the dead.  Not to suggest I would not go to see them, but spending a pretty hearty sum for a pair of tickets, round trip flights, and hotel room and food and of course the weed smoking luxuries which are part of the experience of the typical Grateful Dead show…it was not something I was willing or afford to attempt.  These were shows for true Dead Heads. The diehards who travelled across the grand country, I mean all of the states following the band when everyone was younger, the Dead Heads sold peanut butter sandwiches to defray the costs of living modestly on the road.  It was a common site to see a Dead Head holding a sign that said, “I need a Miracle,” when they were looking for a ticket.  There was and still is a strong contingent of Dead fans.  I salute their devotion.  I respect their allegiance and commitment to a band who essentially has been null and void since August 9^th 1995 when the Grateful Dead’s supreme leader Jerry Garcia passed away.  The lights were shut off and the Deadheads were lost, perplexed that Jerry was truly dead.  Some Dead Heads have found their new calling, following up with bands like Phish and off shoots of the Grateful Dead like the Lost Ones, Rat Dog, Further, The Dead, and now The Dead & Company, let us not forget Phil Lesh and Friends, Rhythm Devils, Missing Man Formation, and other acts.  All of these incarnations have most deadheads satisfied since they can go to these events and be surrounded with folk who are wishing and searching for something they lost back in 1995.  But the Fair Thee Well concerts was a nice send off and I am happy to say, a good friend of mine, Frank was able to secure tickets and made the trip to Chicago. 

What are DeadHeads thinking when revered Bob Weir hits the stage?  I was watching Dead & Company on YouTube.  Bob’s voice is weaker.  He looks like an old cowboy with a beer belly and a face full of thick grey beard.  He was the kid in The Grateful Dead...decades ago. What is surprising is the new kid in the center of the stage; John Mayer.  A few years ago he listened to a few Dead songs and was hooked.  I can understand his admiration for the Dead.

I’ve been to one Grateful Dead show and this is a story I want to share at the end of this essay since it is an embarrassing story for a couple of parts.  I planned to have a good evening with my buddy Frank and my girlfriend at that time who told me – clearly - she was not into the band or hanging out with my pot smoking long haired Dead Head buddy.  But I knew this was a band I wanted to experience; so in say twenty five years I could write about it here for you.  Frank was and is a true Dead-Head - he's been to 80 plus shows across the nation.  At the concert, we shared some smoke and we had some beers as my girlfriend looked on in shock and disgust.  The concert was at the Meadowlands.  We found our seats and the lights shut off and here were The Grateful Dead jamming while their fans danced and sang along.  It was a jovial event in New Jersey, but the mood shifted once the band started a song called Space.  I was done.  I was not tripping and space sounded like a bad tune up session. By that time, I knew my girlfriend was also finished.  She held her head in her hands and looked bored.  We told Frank we’d meet him outside at the car.   We had better things to do than listen to that…shit.  And we were outside.  Gusts of wind spun newspapers and thin sheets of paper around our legs.  Embers were glowing in spots were a fire had simmered between parked vans.  We found the car.  She was not in the mood since my breath smelled like smoke and I had…beer.  Eventually our boredom was cut when the crowd came out to the parking lot and we waited.  We waited.  The crowd was diminishing and we waited for Frank.  I don’t know where he is.  This was before the luxury of cell phones and we waited a very long time (it’s true and I want to stress it since Frank may read this) and soon burly security guards were yelling at the sedated and passive Dead Heads to Get The Fuck OuTTa Here!  I was not feeling the peace.  A crisp knock on the window, but it wasn’t Frank it was a guard waving to us to the exit.  We should leave, she said.  Give him a few more minutes.  I imagined Frank sharing a beer or passing a joint to a group a ladies and I waited till the guard came back.  “If you don’t leave, I’ll have the cops over here.  You are now trespassing on private property.  Do you understand?”  I nodded.  He nodded.  “Now, get the fuck out of my parking lot you fucking hippie.”  I didn’t have the balls to tell him I was not a hippie since I liked the Bad Brains a hell of a lot more than The Grateful Dead.  I was there for the experience, you know?  He was not the type who would listen or care.  This Saturday, tickets go on sale for the Dead & Company who will play at Citi Field in New York and up in Boston at Fenway.  Frank and I may be going to at least Citi Field.  Thank God for cell phones. 

I bought my ticket….

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.

50 Year Old Starts a New Job

1/22/16 08:52 on the train to NYC

I’m taking the train into the city to meet with a prospective client.  There are others around me on the peak train out of Ronkonkoma.  It’s my first sales meeting in the city…ever.  I started a new job this year. If you work in sales you might be thinking, so what.  We move around.  It’s something we need to do, we move on to bigger and better opportunities.  But I worked for the same company for twenty years and starting a new job is daunting.  There are new services to learn, new managers, different personalities, new office politics, well thank God I work from home. 

More than twenty years ago, during my interview at World Courier, I said I was looking for a company to commit to and I wanted that company to commit to me.  I made an impression, and I was serious, this wasn’t some kind of interview pitch.  I had an infant at home, rent and expenses and money was tight.  I could tell I made an impression when the President at that time, John Wagner waved in his secretary who had something to share.  She mentioned what time the company’s Christmas party can start.  John looked at me and invited me to attend, which I accepted.  

  

Back on this train.  With World Courier there was the comfort, meaning I know what to expect day in and day out. There are employees at World Courier who started out at drivers and moved up the chain to become executives, even today.  I started as a customer service representative, working 1700 to 0100 at the “old” office on Guy R Brewer near JFK.  I was only there for a couple of months, till we moved to where they are still located in New Hyde Park.   Throughout the early years I knew I wanted to get into sales and I was told there was a position, but that opportunity did not come about.  I was promoted within, since I proved I was a reliable employee who was serious about making logistics a career.  I took a dangerous goods course at our office...while I was on vacation.  It was the only opportunity to get certified for free.  I signed up for custom brokerage classes and would drive into JFK two nights a week and received a certificate.  One of our brokers, suggested I could earn a decent salary if I became a custom's broker, so I pursued that. I was promoted to a supervisor and was given more responsibilities as well as beeper and eventually I was offered a sales position.  

The first lesson in sales, I needed know I had to make calls and sell - instead of waiting for the phone to ring.  It was an easy thing for me since I worked at a stock brokerage house a few years before - making hundreds of calls a day.  I love cold calling, braking new business and within a short amount of time I was recognized and asked if I could train new sales staff on cold calling.  

  

I will miss my former coworkers, who were good friends and for some were like family.  I could count on them when I needed an extra hand. We had each other’s backs and we looked out for one another.  We shared some painful memories, 9/11 stands out.  Seeing the billowing smoke from New York City as fighter jets ripped over us in the sky.  Hearing of JFK’s Jr’s plane that went missing, the moment the news broke that Princess Diana was killed.  The devastation from hurricane Sandy across the area.  Walking around the neighborhood in New Hyde Park and seeing massive trees which was toppled over and had smashed into a house. The sad memories when we learned a co-worker had passed.  There was a driver who told me, take pride in your signature since that represents you.  Don’t make it sloppy.  He died on the operating table.  Dan Byriter, as well as John Wagner and a few others.  There were happy memories, the bets I would make with Joe Vitale anytime the Red Sox and Yankees had a series. The cherished memories, for instance I was training when Ali called me to tell me she was expecting our second, Emma Tess who was born in August that year.  The parties, the drinks and the characters and friends who invited us into their homes.

We grew up together, saw some great concerts and went to different baseball games, like opening day at Shea Stadium, taking the ferry to Bridgeport to watch the Long Island Ducks play the Bridgeport Bluefish, the 2000 World Series.  Hockey games, readings, plays. I have some great memories and yet I knew it was time to move on...  While I was weighing the opportunity and trying to figure out if I should leave, it was Ali who motivated me.  She reminded me that in the past couple of years - I was not happy working there.  Really?  I was that vocal?  Yes. 

Last October, I received a call from my client who wanted to know if I was interested in an opening with his company, Sharp Clinical.  I trust Dan very much and everything…eventually fell into place.  I went on interviews which I felt they were encouraging, and I seemed to get along with everyone I met.  But, by middle of the following week, when there was no call, I was getting anxious. Perhaps, I was no longer a viable candidate?  I called Ali while I was driving home after a meeting and asked her what should I do?  She said give it a couple of more hours; if they don’t call by four, then call them.  Then I realized, and I told her, I didn’t put it in God’s hands.  I know what some of you are thinking. Go ahead and wince in pain - you heathens.  I said I love you to my wife and we hung up.  Not three minutes later, my phone rung and it was Sharp Clinical…offering me a job.

Thank you for reading this.

Foghat storms back to Strong Island

We came out to celebrate the first annual holiday party for the Long Island Music Hall of Fame at Mulcahy’s in Wantagh.  It was a modest crowd which surprised me.  I expected more fans especially since Foghat has strong Long Island roots. It’s a tough time to get a crowd with holiday parties, Christmas budgets, and more important their fans are getting older. I should have called the venue to check when Foghat came on the stage, then again I would have missed the incredible bluesman Kerry Kearney and his band.  After they left the stage I painfully endured an hour of the posing Vince Martell (vanilla fudge fame) and his band of brothers.  You could have grabbed any bar band in any dive across the island and they would have played better.  That said, thank you gentlemen for your service to this country, but hey you clowns have to admit Kerry should have played before Foghat; it would have made an excellent transition.  Let’s move on… Fingerz from WBAB introduced Foghat and referred to an interview he had with Roger Earl, the drummer for Foghat which I recommend listening to.  Fingerz handled the interview very well.  

The music stopped.  The lights dimmed enough for our old eyes to make out ghostly shadows which approached from the side.  It was the moment we waited for.  It was Foghat.  Our ears were tuned to the sounds of the slide guitar.  The crowd, I counted a couple hundred or so in Mulcahy’s which is in Wantagh suddenly rose up.  Yes, the old buzzed fans slowly surged closer and the band kicked it into gear, their first song? Fool for the City.  I had to put down my beer and get in for some pictures.  I have never seen Foghat and this was one of those gigs I had to take in for posterity. 

Let me explain, when I was a kid, Foghat was one band I was told I needed to listen to by the older kids on my block. These kids were tough, they drank beer and smoked cigarettes and pot and they were just cool with their bell bottom pants, clogs, and leather bracelets which were stamped with their names.  The girls wrote in bubble letters and the boys parted their hair in the middle and had pimples on their peach fuzzed chins.  There was loud music blaring from homemade, poorly wired speakers from trucks and open windows, Ted Nugent, Steve Miller band, Farah Fawcett posters (if your ma let you hang one up) and the sleek Trans Am, preferably in black - with the gold bird spread out on the hood of the car and of course you idiot - you had to have the gold rims.  This was the life of the Bellecrest Bums.  All of those incredible perks of the decade which…when consolidated…created an energy which erupted into fits of puberty.   So here’s the deal (1978) I was brought into Freddy Petersdorf’s house and told to sit down and just listen…Freddy spitted out, “This was real music.”  He always had white spit in the corners of his mouth and had gapped front teeth.  He pulled out the albums from the sleeve and placed them on the turntable.   He told me in strict confidence and in secret, these were special albums.  They belonged to his older brother.  Freddy's brother (Hank) was even cooler than the cool kids on the block since he didn’t say a word to any of us…we were just kids and he was really old...almost twenty.  He smirked at us and shook his head and smoked his Marlboros as if we pissed him off.   The needle popped onto the album.   I waited and tap…tap… listened…a wave radiated from the speakers. This was rock and now it’s referred to something called classic rock, but I don’t care about any of that, I am sorry for getting off the topic since I was that kid again when Foghat was on the stage and taking in the music and even caught a couple of beat up drum sticks which were tossed to the crowd.  They played, their first hit, "I just wanna make love to you" and "Stone Blue," do yourself a favor when you're bummed out or down and listen to that song. It will get you back to your feet.  

Roger Earl is the last original member of the band.  He plays with Bryan Bassett who played Wild Cherry (Play that Funky Music) and Molly Hatchett. Charlie Huhn sang lead and was the ultimate professional long blonde rock star dashing from one side to the stage to the other and having a great time, tossing guitar picks to the adoring crowd.  Charlie actually sang for Ted Nugent back in his weekend warrior’s days.  The bassist was a local Long Island kid who I’m sorry did not get his name though he looked familiar.  The kid did a damn a good job.

Slow Ride was the last song on their set and after that Foghat shook hands with a few of us and they walked off and that was it…

Randy Jackson of Zebra fame held the court for a midnight jam session…Vince joined him for a couple of Beetles tunes and I walked out thinking it was late and put down my drum sticks and Foghat t-shirt and tuned the dial to WBAB and drove on into the night.

Thank you for reading this.

Zebra drags their old fans into Patchogue for a 40th anniversary concert

Other than Randy Jackson I cannot tell you who else plays in the rock band…Zebra.  Randy is our adopted rock n roll elder star. I can only assume he has lived on Long Island for more than thirty years.  He has played in many venues…all sizes…throughout the island.   I’ve seen him years ago at an Islander home opener, but was more excited to see Joan Jett who came onto the stage after Randy.  She looked incredible and kicked Randy’s ass.  But this is not a competitive essay.  No, this is just a few thoughts which occurred while I watched Zebra who celebrated their 40^th anniversary at the Patchogue theater.  

You may be wondering out there, what would possess me to see Zebra? It was the night before Thanksgiving and tickets were cheap.  I have written about them in this blog, more specifically when I wrote about WBAB and how they may be the only station who plays Zebra.  I walked into the lobby in the theater and waited to buy a ticket.  A stranger walked up to me and said, “Looking for a ticket?”  I looked at him, “I was going to buy a nose bleed.”  Here come with me he said and pulls out some tickets.  For $20 I sat ten rows from the stage.  Who cares, it’s Zebra.  

But first a little background. I remember when I was in high school and spent my lunch breaks playing music in our intercom, but we referred to it as WNPT.  I would generally play the music I liked (New Age & Punk) and would ignore the metal heads although one show which I had was the Mike and Mike show.  Mike Abrahamson who I understand had passed years ago (RIP Mike) and he would play metal and I would play my music.  It was a popular show.  We had requests and one of the bands which was frequently requested was Zebra.  Tell me what you want, was the one song we would cave in and play.  Maybe it was their other hit, whose behind the door.  I was not a fan.  

The Zebra story is an example of hard work and being tenacious as well as having a legion of fans who came out that night in Pathchogue.  I will add they are a talented group.  Randy had mentioned during the concert that he was grateful for their fans who came out regularly to see them in the clubs before they had a record. He mentioned Hammerheads which was a club on Long Island as well as other clubs.  He mentioned former managers as well as the one an only DJ on Long Island at that time: Bob Buchmann from WBAB.  It was Bob who influenced Atlantic Records to sign them.  The fans cheered.  One drunk yelled out, We love Zebra and the bass player non nonchalantly mumbled in his mic, we love… Long Island.  Oh, such sincerity.  The rock stars recognized their fans.  The fans cheered and Zebra in the middle aged splendor and dare I say spandex...rocked...on.   

I’m curious what kind of fans Randy brings out when he plays at the small venues on Long Island.  I think most of his fans were inside the theater that night, although their faces were older and hair thinner more wrinkles and heavier, some acted as if they were still 16.  Trying to sneak beers in.  I saw one idiot get kicked out after he was warned a few times.   

This was the WBAB crowd who hated new wave music and would rarely go into the foreboding Manhattan, well maybe to see Rockafella Centa.  

So what did the rock band do?  How did they make it?  They played to the audience where their audience lived.  The music sounded the same.  There was the drum solo and guitar solos, the acoustic set, the poses, the rock stars were under the lights.  For moments during the show, if you closed your eyes you might have been able to pretend you too were back in 1983...the music sounded sharp and Randy was...Randy, but more important the beers you sucked down that night did not have an effect on your expanding belly or your round buttocks.

Thank you for reading this.