Tuesday, November 18th, 2008
As you may already know, my personality type parallels that of the great adventurists of the world…Richard Branson, the Wright brothers, Ranulph Fiennes, etc… Yes, that’s right, my story will most likely have its own Wikipedia page someday. I don’t see how it couldn’t. With all the exciting tales I endure throughout my days (usually within an acre of land), I am sure I will go down in history as one of the greats.
Okay, let’s come back to reality. I’m just a guy who likes to write from time to time.
I had a grand thought the other day. I was walking and thinking about how I hate Winter. I don’t really have a problem with Spring, Summer and Autumn, but Winter is hard for me.
One problem I have with Winter is with the lack of daylight. That bugs me. Last week, I had to rush back from playing tennis so we could go for a walk up the road before it got dark outside. It was only 3:15 in the afternoon. That’s annoying. I always hated the dark. Not because I am scared of it (which I’m not), but because people go inside and hide when it gets dark. It’s like the show is over and everyone goes home. That’s depressing. Also, the dark stops me from fiddling around outside. It forces me to go in and wind down for the next 7 hours before I go to sleep. I have always hated going to sleep. Who ever thought that I would be as old as I am and still fight about going to sleep.
Another problem I have with Winter is the cold. Things don’t grow in the cold. I can’t go to the store and dream about what I am going to plant next when it’s cold. I have no visions in my mind. It gets a little boring. Also, as you may have noticed, there are fewer pictures to take because I am doing less and things don’t change that much. I am sure I can take pictures of a dying lawn, but I am sure you would get sick of that.
I remember when I used to live back in my home town in the house I grew up in. We lived on a great road that had a nice amount of walkers that would use it for…well, walking. I like to chat it up with people, so I would spend a lot of time sitting at the end of my sidewalk, waiting for people to walk by. Since this would happen from May through October, I accomplished a fair amount socializing. I’m not sure if the walkers appreciated it, but I sure did.
I always remember the times when I would go out to the road, look up and down, and realize the season was over. There was no one walking and there would be no more walkers until the next season. That thought would always be felt in my stomach.
One more depressing short story and then I will get to the point, I promise.
As some of my readers will agree, the lake in my home town was the bomb-diggity when we were growing up. I have no idea if people still use the lake for swimming today, but when I was a kid, it sure was the place to be. From June 27 through September 3, I would pretty much somehow end up at that lake to swim…every day. My friends and I walked, rode skateboards, rode bicycles…whatever, to get down there and hang out.
I usually had the best times right in the middle of July. Everyone in the area had somewhat committed to the fact that the beach was where it’s at. I remember my friend Brian’s mom showing up in her station wagon full of people, Russell’s mom showing up in her maroon Pontiac and some people even walking. You know, those lucky people who lived close by.
We would all do our thing and swim all day. I remember swimming back from the raft one day and standing up in the shallow water. My lungs were starting to hurt because I was so water logged. I recall looking up past the sand at the big tree that stood near the clubhouse and watching the wind blow the leaves. Everything was kind of hazy because my eyes were so used to being open under the water. This is the era of zinc oxide sunscreen and turtle hunting (we would let them go). This was also the era of Ocean Pacific t-shirts and wondering what the people over at the town beach were doing. Man, I would probably be happy if I could just live those days over and over again for the rest of my life. It really didn’t get any better than that. But, things just refuse to stay the same.
One day, late in the season, I decided to go down to the beach. I knew there wouldn’t be many people there because the sky was a bit cloudy, but I gave it a shot anyway. When I arrived, the place was empty. I was completely alone. I decided to walk past the fence and take a stroll to the end of the dock. I thought I would just hang out until someone showed up. All I really needed was for a few people to come by and we would get something going. Well, no one ever came.
I decided to take my shoes off and hang my feet in the water. I untied my sneakers and finally got my socks off. I walked over to sit at the edge of the dock, but when I looked at the water, I was horrified at what I saw. Little specks of “lake” were floating around beneath me. It was turning. That was the sure sign that the season was over. Once the lake turned, it was time to go home to return only when it was warm again the next year. For anyone who remembers those days, you’ll also remember that school was about to start soon as well. That always gave me a sick feeling.
At that time in my life, I was too young to realize that Winter was just a short hop, skip and a jump away. Now, I understand that the time between the end of the Summer and the beginning of Winter is short…very short. Time seems to really fly by these days.
These are just a few of the memories that have moulded me into the person I am today. I have a strong sense of my past and I truly miss things. I guess when it comes to weather, I prefer to play. I really, really like to play. Laura always looks at me like I am crazy for the words that come out of my mouth, but when I think back and daydream about all my best friends and me riding our bikes as fast as we could down the Road to get some pizza at the corner, I get a little sad.
Maybe that’s why I never liked the idea of high school reunions. Seeing everyone so different would probably break my heart. It’s a reminder of how much we’ve changed. Worst of all, it’s a reminder that much of my past is never going to happen again.
Okay, time to get back on track. I just love it when I look up after a half-hour and realize I wrote absolutely nothing I had planned on.
Back to what I was thinking during my walk the other day. I decided it was time to come up with a plan that would take me away from the Winter blues I experience every year. I had to think of what types of activities I like to do during the Winter. Well, writing on this blog certainly is one of them, but unfortunately, that doesn’t get me out of the house. Playing indoor tennis is most definitely going to help, but what else have I enjoyed in my past that I really got a kick out of? Ahhh, snowboarding.
Back when I was living in Binghamton, my friend and I decided to buy snowboards and all the equipment that came with them. We bought the boards, bindings and boots. I also got all the apparel that made my days on the mountainside comfortable. I always said that if I stayed warm while riding on a snowmobile at midnight in mid January, that was good enough to stay warm while snowboarding. Luckily, I still have everything I started with.
When I first started snowboarding back in 1997, I was hooked. You couldn’t stop me. Since I was in college, I was flat broke, but somehow I always had money for a lift ticket. That first year, I went to Catamount, Hunter (about 10 times), Scotch Valley, Jiminy Peak, Greek Peak and some others I am sure I am forgetting. I remember that I would be able to snowboard for 9 hours straight. The next season, we went to all those mountains again as well as a few others, like Stratton, up in Vermont. It was awesome.
Rob and me at Stratton Mountain in Vermont
After I graduated college and moved to Atlanta, there was no more snowboarding for a few years. I guess my body lost its snowboard-ism, because the next time I went snowboarding up at Bristol Mountain, near the finger lakes of New york, I went with an 18 year old kid. He was on fire and I only made it down the mountain twice. I felt like a smoker of 40 years. It’s amazing how fast the body can fall apart.
I called a few friends over the past couple of days. One of them is a skier who is willing to learn how to snowboard. The other is Rob. Rob told me that he will hit the mountain with me. I am sure that it won’t be too often, so it shouldn’t conflict with his busy schedule.
I think this will make for a more exciting Winter. At the very least, it will make some some really neat pictures of various mountain tops and ski trails. I bet you can’t wait for that.
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Sunday, September 14th, 2008
This article was written by Jay G on behalf of PetClassifieds.US, a popular pet classifieds website.
Is owning a dog right for you? Have you thoroughly thought out all the pros and cons of getting your first dog? If not, you might want to read this. I have put together a “Top 10″ list of what prospective dogs owners should be aware of before making the jump to dog ownership.
Can You Really Be a Dog’s Best Friend? A Top 10 List
I think that’s a valid question, and I don’t ask it lightly. The short answer is yes. The long answer may be no, and let me tell you why.
I think I’ll start things off with a short story. It’s interesting and I think it will shed some light on what I am thinking.
Way back in 1999, I was attending graduate school at Binghamton University. I lived on the third floor of an old house in a very small apartment. The house was in a rather congested part of town, so all of the residents could get a very clear picture of what was happening in the neighborhood around them. From my apartment, I had a pretty good vantage point of a few backyards that were close by.
As you could imagine, while attending graduate school, I was required to study for a good portion of the day and night. There was no way to get around it and much of it had to be done in my apartment. In order to have a good studying session, I needed quiet. Thinking back, I should have moved into a more sparse part of town.
The day after I moved in, I remember looking out the window into the backyard across the street. There were two dogs lying down on a dirt area. They were tethered together by the same dog leash, a piece of one tied to the other. Their heads were about a foot apart and they had no where to go. Every time someone passed on the sidewalk, they would stand up and run to the chain link fence, barking. This went on day after day. Eventually, someone from the neighborhood called the ASPCA and had the dogs removed. The owners were charged with having the dogs outside without shelter and a few other things.
This brings me to the point of this piece. Why do people bring dogs into their homes, when they clearly don’t have the means to properly care for them?
I’m sure we have all seen it a thousand times; the messiest house on the road with three viscous dogs chained to a stump in the front yard, the college students who thought it would be fun to get a “house” puppy, the overworked parents who thought it would be a good idea to get their young children an active puppy to play with.
What’s the common theme that runs across all three examples above? Bad choices. I think the mistakes many people make are 1) they don’t understand that owning a dog is a huge responsibility and 2) dogs can lead miserable lives, if not taken care of properly.
Here is a (hopefully helpful) list of reminders that you should consider before bringing a dog into your family:
1. Dogs bark. If you like your neighbors and want them to continue liking you, be sure to consider this when choosing the breed of dog you get.
2. Dogs eat. If you have trouble paying your own grocery bill, think about the extra expense of a big bag of dog food once a month.
3. Dogs need to go to the doctor. If you are having trouble paying for your own health care, think about what you are going to do the day your dog needs to have an operation.
4. Dogs need to relieve themselves. If you like to snuggle under your warm covers at 5AM in the middle January, think about the feeling you will have when your new dog starts barking to go outside at that time.
5. Dogs need to play. If you work late and no one is home, who will be there to take the dog outside to burn off all the energy they have?
6. Dogs need love. Are you ready to spend at least two hours a day with your dog?
7. Dogs need space. Do you have the room for a dog that may become hyper when it gets excited?
8. Dogs are not welcome in many rental units. Do you rent? Be aware that by having a dog, you are limiting yourselves to about 10% of available units for rent.
9. Dogs require patience. Take a good look at yourself. Have you ever lost your temper? Many dogs may do things that will upset you.
10. Dogs need to be licensed. What are the rules of your area when it comes to dog ownership?
The above list is not meant to be depressing. It’s meant to give you a realistic view of what you can expect after you bring that cute, cuddly little puppy into your home. I have owned many dogs and I write from experience.
A good friend of mine owns two rather large dogs that he adopted from a friend during his senior year of college. They are both about five years old now. He loves the dogs, but feels he may have made a mistake. He may not have been ready for them. I remember asking him how he feels about owning the dogs, to which he replied, “Yeah, that was pretty much the biggest mistake I ever made.”
Now, let’s discuss the brighter side of things. If you have looked over the above list and think you might be ready to give a dog a new home, good for you. Just be sure to look for that dog in the right places. There are many dogs in shelters across this country that are just waiting for someone like you to walk through the door. Do the right thing and adopt. You’ll be glad you did.
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Friday, April 18th, 2008
Laura and I were down in Tuckahoe, NY last night and decided to visit “The Olde Stone Mill” restaurant. The reason I had interest in this restaurant is because we saw it during the last season of Kitchen Nightmares with Gordon Ramsey. This is one of our favorite reality shows because it shows different types of leadership and gives me many ideas for great recipes. Gordon isn’t much of a vegetarian lover, but perhaps someone will guide him to see the light one of these days. I suppose many good chefs have meat on their menus. Oh well. Nonetheless, he is quite entertaining.
We basically drove by and stopped so Laura could grab a photo. This restaurant is in a really great part of town and looks very nice. I am not sure it was open when we drove by, but I’m glad the lights were on. It was kind of late at night.
Earlier in the evening, on our way down to Westchester, we hit a lot of traffic on the Hutch so we had to trust my new and awesome best friend…my GPS to guide us through the neighborhoods of Bronxville, Scarsdale and Tuckahoe. I have to say, I fell in love. What a damn nice area. The culture of hardworking people with money is soooo different than those…well, let’s just say their hard work is paying off. I really enjoyed driving through those roads and looking at the pride people take in their properties. A lot of labor and elbow grease can give great results. There were beautiful houses with great landscaping. I should’ve taken more photos for ideas. Maybe we will go back.
One area I really loved was Weaver Street in Scarsdale. It’s pretty “in there” and I would definitely need my GPS again to find it, but what an area. We also went to Eastchester, so we saw a lot.
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Thursday, February 8th, 2007
I just have to write these things. Usually, when I am out to dinner with more than one person, I bring up the funniest things that have ever happened in my life. I know this sounds strange, and you may be asking, “Jay, how do you remember such things?” Well, let me tell you…I have been thinking of these events since I was about 17 years old. I have them in perfect order in my head, from #5 to #1. I giggle even thinking of them.
Let me first give you a little background into those involved. I have two best friends. One I like much more than the other, but I won’t tell you which one. Just kidding, I thought that would be funny to make them wonder. But seriously, one is much better looking than the other. Anyway, there is Rob and there is Craig. To sum up their personalities is this; they are both waiting for the big one…the lotto, the settlement, the hot stock pick…the big one. I suppose we are all waiting for the big one.
Rob is a very special person. He is the kind of guy who likes to give you a hug. There is no one person on the planet that I play off of better. I remember a trip once where we were driving to Atlanta. We were in Pennsylvania and just passed the exit for Phillipsburg/Bloomsbury. We both thought those two words were kind of funny and continued to say, “Phillipsburg/Bloomsbury” with a female English accent well into Virginia. He would say it and then I would say it. Very funny and got funnier as time went on.
Rob and I used to help Craig out sometimes with his tree service. At the end of each day, Craig would profess to us that he was never going to have us work together again. He would be all pissed off that we joked around all day and that the customer watched as we made asses out of ourselves. Then, we would give him a hug and ask what time he wanted us ready for work the next day. 7:00…just like every morning. Then yet again, I would show up at 7:00 and we would hop in the truck to roll down to Rob’s driveway and honk because he was still in bed. Those were the good old days. Even today when I call Rob, there really is only a window of about 3 minutes where we are serious. After that, we are back to the regular old us.
Craig is also a very special person. He is the kind of guy who likes to get hugs. Rob gives ‘em and Craig gets ‘em. Who knows.
Craig is the guy who thinks he is serious. He really does. Of course, being around us, this lasts for only a few minutes. He could be rescuing people off a sinking ship when Rob and I would show up. A few moments later, Craig would be floating on his back laughing so deeply that breathing would be difficult. People would be diving off the boat and Craig would be trying to stay afloat. Our chemistry is remarkable.
Craig is a teacher. He likes to offer all sorts of information about all sorts of stuff. In general, his brain holds a good chunk of knowledge. At times though, I would ask him about something that he knows absolutely nothing about. If speaking to the average layman, his offering of information would be completely believable…but to me, not so much. I would question him about it for a while and then we would both come to the conclusion that he knows absolutely nothing about what he is talking about. He would start laughing and I would start laughing and then…the hug. Rob got us into the hugs.
Well, back to the reason for this post. There are 5 distinct things that happened in my life that are funnier than all the rest. These are the only stories that anyone will actually let me finish. In the days of cutting each other off before we finish our sentences, this is pretty special. I have narrowed the stories down, refined them and discussed them. I finally decided that these are the ones. Unfortunately, for those involved, I am usually the cause of the humor, not the recipient. I am hoping that these stories become my legacy. I know that is not the highest of goals, but it’s mine.
One day in July, Rob and I were hanging out on the corner of the street. We knew this as “Sunset.” My house was about 30 feet away. Rob lived two houses down the street and Craig lived one up. We were all neighbors all of our lives. The corner was the intersection of Hickory Drive and Sunset Drive. More things have happened at this intersection than I would care to discuss…motorcycles, quads, basketball, cops, love, hate, tears, sweat and blood. Meet me at Sunset became a common term for us.
Many times, I would be working on my car in my driveway and Craig would be working on his. I had a Camaro and he had a Barracuda. This particular day, Rob walked up the road and I was in my driveway, like usual, working on my car. Craig was inside doing who knows what. We talked for a little while and decided to give Craig a call. I picked up the phone and dialed. I could hear the phone ringing in his house. He answered and I told him to come out…we were just chilling in my driveway. He agreed and hung up. For some reason, Craig always took a while to come out of his house. It’s almost like he was eating a gourmet meal or something. I can imagine it this way: I would call and Craig would answer the phone. We would discuss meeting outside. He would agree and begin to finish his meal. He would have four more conversations with three more people. Then, he would remove his bib with the lobster picture on it. He would go to the bathroom, shave, slick back his hair, put on some cologne, boots a belt and then go outside. I, on the other hand, just get up and walk outside. To each their own, I suppose.
Rob and I got a little bored waiting for Craig, so we headed for the corner. The whole reason we wanted him to come out is because we had a fresh shipment of bottle rockets. I did mention it was July, right? About 15 minutes went by and Rob and I were getting extremely itchy to light these things off. We already burned as many leaves as we could and were getting bored when Rob came up with an idea. We would lay some bottle rockets on the ground, facing up the street. They would shoot horizontally about 100 feet and explode right in front of Craig’s house. This would be too much for him to resist and he would finally get the heck outside.
We started lighting a few off. As expected, they flew straight up the road and made a big bang right where we wanted them to. Where the heck was he? Who knows…we just kept lighting them and they kept exploding. After a little while, we forget that he was even coming outside…but right at that moment…it happened. Picture this in slow motion…Rob and I laughing at something stupid, slapping our knees, when I light off the next bottle rocket. WHOOOSH…straight up the road. 25 feet…50 feet…75 feet…still going. At that very moment, we both look up to see a hint of the color black and two white dots. The black was the knee of Craig’s favorite pair of Z Cavarichis and the white were the big tongues of his white Nike hightops. A little further…we notice the purple of Craig’s IOU sweatshirt (tucked in) and the black of his belt. His pants were tucked into his socks and his hair was glistening in the sunlight. No wonder he took so long. He was getting all gussied up.
The bottle rocket was inching up the street. Craig was in a great mood…he was almost dancing across his yard and making his way onto the road…the same road the bottle rocket was blazing up. “NOOOOOOOOOO!!!…,” we yelled. Poor Craig was oblivious. All he wanted to do is to hang out with his best friends. The rocket was red glare and Craig was skipping in the air. I even thought I heard him singing a soft lullaby. Closer…slowly…WHOOOSH. Craig made one step onto the road when the bottle rocket made a slight turn to the right. These things are very unpredictable, you know. Craig looked up and said, “Hey, what’s up gu….” when the rocket tore a little bit more to the right and headed straight for poor Craig’s head. Craig saw this and stared straight at the rocket coming right at him. I think I even saw his eyes go crossed as it got closer. “WHOA…!!!” he yelled as he tried to move his head with a bob and a weave. He did a good job, but not good enough. WHOOOSH…SLICE…right across the left side of Craig’s neck. Suddenly, the rocket exploded. Luckily it was a few feet in back of Craig. He whipped his hand up to hold his neck and starts yelling. Rob and I just stared at each other. Craig walked slowly down to us, still holding his hand to his neck. He arrived and just gives us this look…one of disappointment. He removed his hand from his neck and I could almost hear the pee dribbling down Rob’s leg. We both burst out laughing. Craig had a red stripe across the whole side of his neck. I know this might not sound funny, but it wasn’t a bad injury. Just thinking of the shock Craig just had was funny enough. One minute he was dancing across his front lawn and the next, he was all shook up, when all he wanted to do was show us his new Cavarichis. We all broke out in laughter and continued to shoot off the bottle rockets. No harm done, but one funny ass event.
The moral of this story…don’t wear Z Cavarichis.
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