Slippery slope

I asked Santa for slippers. He sent me two pair.
I have to be careful however since the idea of being in slippers all day long scares me.
I was careful not to fall into the sweatpants syndrome, tying a knot at my waist instead of a belt.
Now I have to make sure that slipping into my footwear doesn't start me down the slope of the unshaven and not taking a shower first thing in the AM.

7 is the new 5

When I was gainfully employed as a teacher and then administrator I'd get up at 5:00AM. This actually dates back to kindergarten and always being an early riser. I was legend and it was the reason why my friend John called me at 4:30 one morning to tell me he had skidded through the Greenwich toll on the Merritt Parkway on the driver door of is snappy Fiat Convertible. His first question at that time was , "Hi, John, What are you doing"?

Now that I have no budgets to approve, no evaluations to write, no weekly newsletters to send to staff, I find that my ETW, estimated time of wake up has been slipping to 5:30 to 6 and today 7:00! Slacker. I have not had to pay attention to time since June 22 but I have noticed that approximately every 2 months my wake up time has been pushed back by 30 minutes or so.

This new normal will take some getting use to as I have always prided myself on waking early and making the most of the day. Most would say that 7 is still early enough to catch the worm, but I can't help but feel guilty that time has passed and I wasn't awake to experience it.

The Last Friday

Those of you who were raised as Catholics know there is a special deal and an insiders plan to get to heaven. You need to observe the first Friday of each month for 9 months straight, go to mass, receive Communion and you will assure yourself a place in heaven. Good deal.

Today is the last Friday of 2012 and I for one can't wait until this year is over.
While I did retire this year and was totally touched by all the best wishes and special events surrounding my hanging up the chalk and eraser, and we did reelect Barack, and my granddaughter celebrated her third birthday and is simply a joy, and my wife continues to flourish after very extensive surgery, and we thoroughly enjoyed the AC my wife installed for hot summer days, and I am learning to speak Italian you might wonder why so anxious for the year o end.

Well there was the storm of the century, and the school massacre in Newtown. There is also a paralysis in the country as the politicians cannot agree to anything and they hold us hostage as we contemplate going over the financial cliff.

If only the slate was wiped clean each December 31 and a new year started with no residual effects from the year before.
Maybe Mitt's people were right and we could all avail ourselves of an etch-a- sketch experience.

Yes, Tree Can

As you know this year we tried a new experiment by creating our very own outdoor Christmas Tree a la Rockefeller Center. We secured the tree to the new porch, strung lights and hit the switch and it looked great.

The tree has withstood 2 major wind storms and today when I looked outside it was still standing. Tall and honorable in the mist of a chilly and windy morning. The longer the tree stands outside the closer I feel to it. It has come to represent more than an excuse to have more floor space and fewer pine needles in the house. It has stood tall, shone brightly through some intense storms and shed light on the porch and throughout the neighborhood this holiday season.

Well done little tree.

On the outside, looking in

This year we decided to place our Christmas tree outside on our new porch. The shiny white railings are decorated with soft white bulbs and they give off a wonderful soft glow through the night.

As 60 somethings with no kids to slide down the banister at 6:00 in the morning on Christmas, we decided to try placing the tree on the porch. We can see it thought the full glass doors on the sun porch.  With the help of our handy-boy, turned man, Ciro Jr. we, I mean he bolted the tree stand to the porch floor. He was careful not to damage the new floor planks, he is very good that way.

Te tree is a larger than usual 7 footer, nice and full. We placed it in the stand and miraculously it has withstood some significant wing gusts over the last week.

I strung the lights, at least 3 times as the male and female plugs needed to match and despite my visualization they did not.

I set the timer and as dusk fell, the lights came on HOORAY!
While this was tree display eliminated the pine needle in the house problem, it is a bit sterile looking at the tree outside through glass doors. It also made for an uncomfortable Christmas morning as we had to run outside in our pajamas to get the presents that were around the tree.. just kidding!

It was 40 yeas ago today

With apologies to the Beatles and the Sargent Pepper tune, 40 years ago was the last time someone from the US walked on the moon. It was the year my dad died, I married my first wife, my 2 best friends got married and Americans walked on the moon. It was the end of several eras.

When I heard this reported this week, I thought when was the last time we did something great as a nation. I'm sure I am wrong but was it 40 years ago? I hope not!

As we sit on the cliff, mourn how could anyone kill innocent children in a school, honor teachers for helping kids live, by getting themselves killed, and watch the world  suffer through  several wars that we win because we say WE WON, Mission accomplished, I wonder where the 40 years has gone and if we will ever be great again.

I hope that as we end this year our newly elected President will muster the strength to be BOLD. But then again what have I done to make a difference.

Say it isn't so

Well here we are on the last day of the world, perhaps.
As I look out the window the rain is pouring down, perhaps a flood of biblical proportions?
The wind is howling, perhaps tornadoes of an unforeseen magnitude?
The sky is dark, perhaps the sun has gone away and will be replaced by perpetual darkness?
Only 16 hours to go to see if the Mayas got it right or wrong.
My guess is as bad as it looks and sounds out there, this was yet another false alarm. Good thing I did most of my Christmas shopping.

My first subway ride....

in 35 years!

Last weekend we spent time in NYC. We went to get a good dose of the City at Christmas and we were not disappointed. the lights, the stores, the hustle, and even the quiet streets as we were staying in the outer boroughs, otherwise known as East End Avenue.

We walked a lot and the exercise was great but after a full day of walking we decided ton the next day to take the bus and train to our Chelsea destination, Eataly.

Now to get on the bus you must have correct change or a Metro Card. In our case we had to deposit $2.25 in quarters for each of us to ride from East End to Lexington ave. Not such a great deal at .45 per block. Then we took the subway. Here you could buy a ticket from a real person provided that there was a real person at the booth. So few stations have real person booths now a days. Sp for another $2.25 you can ride from 77st Street to 23rd Street. But that was one way and the same expense would have to be incurred coming home.

The train was efficient and brought back memories of the #6 train that both me and JayLo would ride in our youth. However her youth came about 30 years after mine! This was the train I'd board to go from the end of the line in the North Bronx to Brooklyn and St. John's College. An amazing bargain in those days for about $.50. Tokens were available with the Y of NYC die cut out making for a very cool coin. Of course the trains were filthy, graffiti ridden and dangerous but hey it was the late 60's in Sin City.

Cleanliness come at a cost, but the ever present danger of being thrown onto the tracks....priceless.

Sorry Wrong Number

With the advent of the caller ID we have been able to screen our calls pretty effectively. We do not answer 800 calls, any call from Oregon, I don't know anyone in Oregon, my alma- mater or any that come up as Private Numbers.

Last week a call came in from Safe Step Tubs, at first I did not recognize the term and then my wife told me it was the Safe Tub company looking to interest me in keeping me safe as I bathe. I guess that having joined the retired set, my name is out there and I can expect calls from Robert Wagner and his reversed Mortgage scam,  the I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up folks, a representative from Chair Lift ( and I don't mean a ski resort) Company, Mind Your Business, a memory enhancing drug company, and countless calls from senior residences in the Sun Belt.

Thank heaven for caller ID!

Oh What a Night

The opening line form the 4 Seasons hit of so many years ago is appropriate as we recently saw a production of Jersey Boys.

Not my first or 21st choice but in this partnership all movies and Broadway plays must be Fun with a capital F. Nothing heavy, thought provoking or deep. Boy did this fit the bill!

I blogged about the outrageous fees charged by Broadway.com for the privilege of buying 2 tix, over $80 in fees. The seats were quite good. Well actually the seats were cramped but directly in the center of the first mezzanine.

The audience was truly from Jersey, each and every exit of the Turnpike and Garden State. Many arrived at their seats with cocktails, a double red wine, in a plastic Forbidden Broadway and Bloomberg cup size for $28.00.

The show opens with a caged in set, similar to the set of the ill fated play by Paul Simon which we saw many years ago.  All the singers, were miked. While this is done to project the songs and voices, it is a bit phony and like Photo Shop not authentic. But hey that is what the people want.  The audience got into the songs with sing along girl in E109 and Yo guy, in seat F115 making the play an audience participation event. Karaoke for the masses.

At one point I looked around to see all audience members of a certain age, mine. I turned to Joyce and said we are just one step removed from a PBS 50's Doo Wop Fundraiser.

Everyone left humming along, singing their favorites, critiquing the "performances", but hey,  nobody got hurt.

And then on Friday, children went to school.

The Chanukah Table

For all the years I have been with my wife, who is Jewish, we have had to manage the mixed marriage thing of holidays. Passover/Easter, Christmas/ Chanukah how to commemorate and celebrate while giving each tradition their due.

The C/C conundrum is especially tricky. Jews will tell you that their holiday is no big thing while Christians honor the birth of Christ with solemn songs, lights, family, and recently Black Friday sales. This year Black Friday morphed into Thanksgiving night. As Jon Stewart said, Christmas is so big it has eaten Thanksgiving, and he is right. Perhaps the essence of the moment was captured by a you tube video of a guy telling fellow midnight madness revelers to "Step the F*%# back or I'll kill you M*^&#$ F@$%^&!"

The other day we were in an art supply store that realized it cannot exist on art supplies alone, so they have gone into all kinds of related and unrelated stuff to make ends meet. In this large store named after  the Jewish owner were all kinds of Christmas supplies and stuff no one needs. Candles, reindeer, wreaths, green ones, gold ones, large and small ones. Plastic flowers of the season, stockings hung on the fake mantle stuffed with other stuff. Chocolates, cards, wrapping paper, fat Santas reminiscing a time long ago, reindeer antlers for people. Just a storehouse of stuff that has very little if anything to do with the true meaning of Christmas. We needed to purchase a dreidel for our granddaughter who is fascinated by the one we have in the house. What better place to find one than at the store owned by the Jew. We asked about Chanukah supplies and were directed to the front corner of the store. And there it was a card table with a sorry looking display of some things Chanukah, mostly paper goods, napkins and notes, but no dreidels or menorahs. It was obvious that in the Christian world of the U.S. where from Thanksgiving to December 24,  we honor Kors, Coach, Apple, XBox, Juicy and Victoria Secret, Jews have give into the mantra, if you can't beat them, join 'em.

Some Service!

When I retired from my job one very special gift was a certificate for $300 for a Broadway show. A wonderful gift that I knew we would enjoy. Yesterday we decided to cash in and take in a show. It is hard to decide what with so many to choose from. While we hate to consider ourselves tourists in a city that we have visited hundreds od times, the reality is that we still gawk at the tall buildings, stop and gaze at the Christmas tree and window shop on Fifth Avenue which as become an open air mall with all the mall stores, on steroids.

To support this idea that we are in fact tourists we decided to get tixs to Jersey Boys. A long time hit, it tells the story of 4 guys from Jersey who became The 4 Seasons singing group. Maybe it is my age and the whole nostalgia thing as I do find myself listening to more 60's music of late.

So I went on line to order the tickets only to find that there is a service charge for each ticket ordered. No big deal, everyone has to make a living, but $41. 00 per ticket! and for what. I never spoke to a person, all was done via internet. The tickets were not put on hold for someone to ask me for my name and picture ID when I arrive at the theatre, I printed out the tickets, so no one had to go and find an envelope and a stamp, $82.00 or the price of 2 off Broadway tickets for "service".

The morning after

Inflatable reindeer and Santas have taken over for the plastic ones of my youth.
When I was a kid nearly everyone on my street had some kind of lit, larger than life, well at least my 8 year old life, lawn or door ornament to highlight the season. There were Santa faces that would light up the front door, reindeer in perpetual motion on the font lawn ( as much as there was a front lawn) in The Bronx. Usually the reindeer had a red nose. Of course back in the 50's-60's there was the Nativity scene on several lawns. Today you'd be hard pressed as there seems to be no room at the inn or anywhere else for the Stars of Christmas.

With the advent of inflatable santas and the like lawns come alive at night with snow globes, sleighs, and of course Rudolph, but in the morning the spirit of  Christmas in the 21st century shows its true colors. Just a lot of hot air, deflated and lifeless on the lawn.

Even the traditional Pelham Parkway Christmas house has been transformed into a faux wax museum with Micheal Jackson statues, a Marilyn Monroe look alike complete with white mink stole and fake boobed mannequins with fake boobs! Jesus now is around the back on top of a lawn shed and the winged angel is a cross between Fabio and every androgynous guy named Vinny who spends way too much time in the gym.  Well after all it is The Bronx in the 21st century.

Taking stock

After a strong first quarter and reached 2000 hits I have noticed a drop off in the number of hits to my blog.  Not quite sure why but if we re going to finish the year with a bang then you guys are going to have to step it up. I suppose some of the fault lies in the fact that I cannot generate any comments, at least those that I can see and respond to. I need to work on this aspect of my blog and open it up to a much larger audience. Now true we have readers in foreign countries and includes the 2 hits from Poland. I am happy to know that tales of my retirement and the "adventures" that I experience from day to day are being shared with the world.


Moving forward my new years resolution is expand my blog, get you all to respond and open up a dialogue complete with helpful hints for a fruitful retirement.

It's a jungle out there

Over the weekend I came upon several animals in distress or worse.
In less than 1/2 mile on the I-95 turnpike I observed 2 dead deer. How anyone can go fast enough on the traffic clogged road to hurt anything is amazing. The stretch between Greenwich and Norwalk is constantly jammed with cars, too many cars, too little road.  But there they were two deer obviously struck dead by cars. The deer in the headlights phrase surely applies.

Later in the weekend on Hope Street, a local but well traveled road in Stamford I witnessed a wild turkey trying to navigate the double line, a screaming, well intentioned woman, obviously trying to scare the bird who even without her, was doing the the turkey's version of deer in the headlights. Unlike the deer, the bird was able to escape the traffic, jumped over a wall and back into the "woods" of CT.

You would think by now both species would have received the memo that they are not welcomed in these parts and that their life was in danger, so adapt. Time to get out of town and head for the calmer, quieter confines of ugh, ugh,ugh..... Greenland?

I beg your pardon, I'm only visiting the Rose Garden.

Exactly when did President O invite Mitt to the White House for chicken salad?
When I heard of the invite the first thing I thought of was, good, rub it in. "Hey Mitt welcome to MY House. I just got an extension on my lease for another 4 years!"  What a cool way to gloat and rub it in. Did Barry show him around? Let him swivel in THE chair. Give him a souvenir parting gift. "You like this letter opener used by Andy Jackson, it's yours!"

Apparently this rub it in your mitt moment did not escape Jon Stewart. On his Daily Show last night he referenced it and mentioned that the President even may have asked Mitt to join the administration. None of this meeting was caught on tape, iPhone or photos. Let that be a lesson to you Mitt. "Oh when you see Rudy (911), please tell him what we did was organize the community, Chicago style."

Our Menu Has Changed- or has it?

You can't call an 800 number and listen to a recorded message without the voice reminding you not to press a number until you hear the selections ."..as our menu has changed."

Does the menu really change? I don't think so but I am too afraid to press a number before I hear all the options for fear that I will lose my place after I have been on hold for 1-2-5-9 minutes.

Then of course when you press the number you have to SAY or ENTER your 19 digit account number. Once completed you anxiously wait for confirmation or I DID NOT UNDERSTAND THE NUMBER, please say or enter your 19 digit number. Once again I dutifully type in the number and press #. Same response, "I can't understand the number.... Please say, Associate".  "Associate, Associate, ASSOCIATE!"

Once connected the associate realizes I have to be transferred to another department. It is at this point that I realize I can probably do without.

It's That Time

On June 21, my last day as school principal I came home and took off my wristwatch just like I have done for 30+ summers. But this year it would be different as there would be no returning to school and no need to strap it on one more time come August.

I notice that watches get a lot of press right before graduation and at Christmas. The NY Times had 7 ads in the first two pages of the paper last week for watches that were big enough to take the place of Big Ben. They are priced anywhere from $495- $10, 000! Just to let you know what time it is.

With the advent of smart phones, ipads and digital this or that you'd think the watch would be obsolete. But never underestimate our need to make a statement about time but more importantly about ourselves and how successful we are. Unlike in humans, The bigger the face, the better. And of course there is the Hublot, King Power Unico, King Bold Carbon.... and the watch for the tattoo wearing private jet flyer, the Breitling Transocean Chronograph Unitime certified by COSC with a 5 year warranty, big deal! My Swiss Army watch has been keeping me on time for 15 years.

He robo caller rings thrice

For the most part we have given up answering the house phone as most of the calls are 800 numbers, someone in Oregon, Bridgeport or private caller. We also know that they call at dinner time. Thanks to caller ID and the Optimum feature that scrolls the name and number across the TV, we have not taken a call from a solicitor for months. We tried to be placed on a Do Not Call list but that has  not worked, somehow these persistent robo callers have cracked the code and the phone rings, 1,2,3 times before the hang up.

Every once in a while we answer the phone only to have a recorded message say in halting robot-ese, Hello, Would you like to.... Do they really think people stay on the line to listen to a "personal" message from a faux person?

The other night the following message was left on the answering machine, yes we still have an answering machine...  "This is a message from your neighbor Joe, who has lost his dog." He has lost a golden retriever named Jose. Jose is very friendly and if you have any information regarding Jose, please call Joe, he is offering a reward. Or go to Lostdoggie.com for further information.

Amazing now an Amber alert for lost dog! What's next?

Your friend John has lost his car keys, if you find them please hit the panic button on the key chain.
Your neighbor Tom has lost his glasses, if you see them please call...
Mary, who lives in your neighborhood has lost her mind.....

I imagine this new service has emerged because people are drinking less milk and the chances of spotting Jose from his likeness on the milk carton are so 2001.

Got to go, phone is ringing.

The Eyes have it

J has decided to change her look and to get new glasses. Three years ago, or about the time the lease ran out on our Passat J got some funky red glasses to complement her blond hair and artsy look. Now that we recently signed off on a new Lexus, J felt it was time to head back to the I glass store (s) to reinvent herself...again. So begins the quest for just the right frame. Add to this progressive lenses and all that that entails and your are staring down the barrel of a $700-800 bill.

From SPECS (both stores), to 20/20 Optical, to Oliver Peoples, to SEE, to Greenwich Optical we combed the stores looking for the right look. " I have a small face, my skin color doesn't carry this color, I want plastic frames, big frames, but not too big"."These are called cappuccino, coffee, starlet, Betty etc.

Back and forth, forth and back, let's just try one more store, day in and day out for a full frontal attack for at least a week. Finally we have a winner! Tortoise shelled, deep brown, almost black, fit perfectly on the bridge, this is it, well maybe not. "Please ,please let's get this done, I cannot tell one from the other, they all look the same."  "You are no help." "I need a girlfriend to come shop with me." "Fine!"

"No really this is it." YES! "That wasn't so bad and remember who comes with you every 36-42 months when you begin your never ending car search. " Gotcha!

Over the River

For over 20 years we have taken advantage of a No Stress Thanksgiving arrangement courtesy of the Mayers.

J's cousin has a lovely home in South Salem. On a lake the view is of a preserve in Ridgefield that will never be disturbed by NYC residents looking for a weekend getaway. A place to escape the hustle and bustle of the city with a $2 million unassuming getaway complete with high end bath fixtures and a three car garage. The view forever has been and will be,  trees, a boat house  with the beauty of each season shown in the tress.

Door to door it is a 20 minute drive on country roads. We refer to it as Vermont without the drive.

The guest list varied over the years as the two daughters both students at Ivy League schools would open their doors to foreigners and those from California, (same thing) who  couldn't get home for the weekend. Their father, a lawyer at a prestigious firm would also invite associates and others to join. The discussions and the wines flowed.

Over the years we'd show up, eat up, clean up and drive home. 365 days later repeat. 

We'd small talk, drink wine and associate with a group of people who otherwise had no reason to be in the same room. No yelling (Italian for conversation) about why didn't you call, It is your turn to take ma to the doctors or call me and let's have dinner sometime. Just 20-25 people together around the joy of eating and drinking. 

Since his death 4 years ago T dinners without the host have left  a void. Pre-dinner speeches have been curtailed and those who try to pinch hit have mostly grounded to second base, but at least they put their linguistic bat on the ball.

Still the anticipation of the day, the stuffing, that shrimp dish that always makes an appearance for appetizers, makes it all worth while. So too the after dinner and everybody has left aperitif  complete with analysis, the how good or thin, so and so looks talk.

No drama, no family rifts, no postmortems re: the latest election. However this year I'm sure there will be some talk about the Kardashian look alikes and how they brought the generals to their knees.

What a country.

Gimme some skin

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and it always brings back memory of Aunt Roz and her prized and delectable bird. The day before she would start the stuffing and begin to work her magic in her little pink kitchen on Tiemann Ave, Bronx NY.

During my high school years I'd go with some friends to the annual rivalry game between Mount and Hayes. My best friends were Hayes men, but as a Mounty it was always a friendly rivalry and great fun, except for the yer we were upset on our way to the division championship.

After the game I'd be dropped off at Mike and Roz's and no sooner did I open the finished basement door than I could smell the aromas of the 25 pounder sitting on the stove to cool down. In the 50's and 60's turkey skin crisp and crunchy was in the cigarette category, no one spoke about how bad it was for you. So once the bird was carved,  the dinner eaten and  the kids dismissed from the folding kids table in the dining/living room, today we call it "open concept",   we'd would go downstairs to hang out. I never missed a chance to grab a piece of skin off the carcass as I came and went. And I came and went a lot, inventing reasons why i needed to pass through the pink kitchen.

The second highlight of the day were the turkey sandwiches served on bread from Arthur Avenue with stuffing and cranberry sauce. Amazing and the quintessential comfort food.

50 years later I can still see that bird on the stove, Roz getting congratulations for a job and a turkey very well done and the tiny pink kitchen that could.

Happy Thanksgiving to all!

4 more hits to 2000, today is the day.

Night Moves

I drive to NYC at least twice a week to attend class or to pick up J after her classes. Taking classes is a senior thing to do.
These driving excursions require a steady foot on the pedal, steel nerves, a give them no quarter attitude and good old dumb luck!  The adventures harken me back to the days I was known as Johnny Bronx for my driving acumen. Unfortunately the destinations are in midtown, the gridlock capital of the world, except as I've been told, the far east. The classes are also scheduled during rush hour so it is inevitable for us to arrive when the hordes of workers are released form their desks and this plays havoc with the Cross/Don't Cross dance. There is no rhyme or reason to the time it takes to get from the suburbs too NYC. It could take 40 minutes, seldom does to 2 hours as it has all too often has. But it is for education and so it is a good thing.

As congested as it is during rush hour, a relative calm comes over the place by 8:00. When class ends and I go to pick up my passenger, the streets that were clogged with an, OK it is your turn to squeeze onto this street, mentality, gives way to smooth sailing. The most dangerous thing to deal with at this hour are the taxi jockeys who just two hours ago were creeping along and could cause little damage. but once the crowds subside they become video game pong drive a-likes.

Last night I saw another NY sight, a caravan of hot dog stands being pushed and pulled up Madison. With their colorful umbrellas, exotic aromas,  and their keepers shouting in a mid east dialect, it was reminiscent of a Bazaar, and a little bizarre at that. But you got to love the vibrancy and energy of the greatest city in the world!

...and counting, as of today I need 10 more hits to reach 2000, come on people, you can do this.

Who knows where the time goes?

I started college at St. John's University in downtown Brooklyn. Actually it was a 2 year program and in all honesty it was St. John's JC. Each morning I'd take the train from the northern most part of The Bronx, as I was living at home and travel on the #6, just like J-Lo to Schermahorn St. in downtown Brooklyn. There was nothing glamorous about this college "campus." But there were lots of Italian deli's, $$ stores and a "art house" movie theatre in close proximity to campus.

I'd arrive for a 10 o'clock class, attend perhaps 2-3 classes a day and spend the rest of the time in the student cafe, it wasn't even a Union. It was the late 60's and although I didn't realize it the world was changing. It was the James Bond heyday and the guys I hung with who came from all 5 boroughs were into the look. More into that then school, the war, the hippie culture, the drugs, or rock and roll. I left out sex as we were after all 18. In the fall I'd make sure I had the appropriate look regardless of the temperature. There were cords, herringbone jackets, with patches on the sleeves just like James. 

As for rebellion, the best I could do was perhaps hop off the uptown train at 59th street and venture into Bloomingdales for a new tie,  arriving home 1 hour late, Radical!

Last week I was in the city looking to spend 3 hours while J attended her class at MOMA. I decided to see how James had aged over the last 50, YIKES! years. so I went to see Skyfall at the theatre, I mean cinema across form Bloomingdales. I remember being at this theatre years and years and years ago with my first girlfriend to see at least one Bond movie and others. I might have seen Blow-Up there. Look it up, it was truly an art film and right for the times. In those days, driving to the city was an easy trip from The Bronx, parking on the street was a cinch especially for my version of Bond's Aston Martin, my orange Karmann Ghia, look that up too. It was a beauty.

No sooner did I enter the theatre and turn the corner to go to the auditorium when I encountered the wall of lights that Bloomingdales drapes from the building facade at Christmas time. It brought me back and I remember standing on line inside the theatre with my date as we waiting to see the movie. White cable turtleneck, tweed blazer from Paul Stuart, corduroy pants, looking cool and ready for a lesson in Bond-ing.  Not much had changed except that popcorn was $6.00, "for an extra dollar you can buy a medium", the seats reclined and ticket prices had gone from $2.50 to $11.00. One thing else had changed, I qualify for senior discount!

James now in his, 8th or 9th reincarnation still looks great. He has toned down his dalliances and is more business than pleasure, but his theme still plays whenever he says, "Bond, James Bond." My signature tune seems to change every few years and somehow has emerged into When I'm 64.

Why so angry?

All we heard about during the election process was the plight of the old, angry white male. This demographic, probably any guy over age 55, has seen his world implode and his status as the masters,  very small m, of the universe, dissolve as Madison Avenue, women and the job outlook have downsized their importance.

Perhaps the only place where they still hold a majority is in the halls of federal and local  government. But in an attempt to commit suicide they run out guys who have such antiquated ideas about, most everything. Luckily most of these 50 somethings with 1950's thinking are being rejected by the voters.

Add to this the remarks of their leader,  Mitt and his off camera remarks about the 47%, goodies from Obama and just a sore loser attitude that seems to encompass the plight of the AWM (angry white male). Now add to this the latest dagger in the heart, the loss of Twinkies, Sno-balls and Ring Dings, surely this is the end of the world as they know it.

Take heart AWM you'll always have Marilyn Monroe even though she would be 84 years old!
Apparently we just can't get enough of this icon, Playboy (talk about irrelevant) is publishing more pix of  the goddess, mistress of their hero JFK et al.

Get over it!

Be careful what you wear

One of the dangers of retirement and of not having to be anywhere at any given time is that you can fall into bad habits. Shaving every day is the first to go. While a two day beard comes off nice and smooth, trying to kiss your wife after 18 hours of growth becomes a challenge.

The brown corduroys and loose fitting teal blue school sweat shirt become the go to outfit, but just like the sweats outfit, they do give off an i don't care anymore vibe. While extremely comfortable I do notice a psych change when I am flopping around in this get up. So I vow to get up each morning, take an early morning shower another casualty of retirement,  shave, cause you never know when that Cialis moment will present itself, and get on with the day.

Dinky Donuts

In the 60's  The Graduate, Benjamin aka Dustin Hoffman, was advised to go into "Plastics."
At the turn of the century I'm sure some little old Greek grandmother told her grandson, "Donuts!"
And with this advice Donut Delight or as we refer to it Dinky Donuts,  was born. A local chain which rivals the big boy, Dunkin', Double D has built an amazing following. Our local shop in on Hope Street in a former bank. The bank never made this much money and I hope for convenience sake the vault was left in the basement because at the rate that they make dough they need an on site repository.

With indoor and outdoor seating and a 24/7 policy the place is seldom empty. On Saturday and Sunday mornings the lines for the drive up stretch for a block and often cause traffic jams as determined caffeine deprived customers wait their turn or try to skip the line. More people are on line for coffee, then for communion.

The place has a sign that requests that people adhere to a 20 minute seating policy. This is a recommendation, seldom adhered to especially by the regulars. There is the Mayor of DD, who arrives every day to hold court and occasionally grant you a seat at his table if the place is especially crowded. Just be prepared for a seasonal discussion of The Yankees, The Patriots and the general dismay he shows for the younger generation. "These kids will never amount to anything, pass me another chocolate frosted"

There is the senior couple who arrive everyday to have a coffee and a..... . Every day the husband reminds the waitperson about senior pricing. While waiting for his coffee he visits the paper rack, gets a copy of the News, Post and local paper, The Advocate, goes to his seat, reads the papers, and then returns them to the paper stand, complete with jelly stains.

The place oozes international as there is a steady flow of Spanish and Greek guests who spend lot and lots of time and very little money chatting I guess,  about the state of the world, in Greek. If one were to do a cost analysis of the money spent vs. the time spent chatting, the place would be in deep financial trouble. But not to worry because the long lines for the drive up surely make up for this.

This is predominately a guy place as recently I went there after the morning rush to get a coffee, and read a book. Naturally the place was full with every seat and table occupied, the Greeks had to sit outside in the cold as there were no tables inside. Too bad they didn't have coffee to keep them warm.
Men outnumber women in this place 4 to 1 and could have easily been mistaken for an exclusive men's club, except for the clientele, the decor, and the menu.

It is a slice of life in a very mixed neighborhood. The staff is very pleasant, the manager extremely hard working, the facility is very clean and there is a sense of civic responsibility as they often place boxes in the place to collect Toys for Tots, and most recently supplies for the victims of Sandy.

On the morning after, the morning after Sandy it was easy to see where the power had not been restored as the lines outside Dinky were even longer with people sharing stories of lost power and limbs, tree limbs.

A hot cup of coffee, the news both local and international, a meeting hall and a sense of community, not bad for a Dinky little donut shop.

Hit me 90 times!

No not some sadomasochistic command but a gentle plea to cross the 2000 hit mark since my blog was posted in July. Averaging about 400 views per month I think is a pretty good landmark. Especially since I still have not figured out all of the bells and whistles of blogging. Over the next few weeks I will be moving into uncharted territory like posting photos and who knows even a video documenting my new life, don't count on it.

What have I learned in my 4 months?
I have stayed with it and posted over 60 times
I still don't understand why I cannot generate responses to my posts
There is an entire new lingo I have to learn.
I enjoy this exercise as it serves as a diary for my retired life
Working is funnier than retirement
I have got to get out more!

Mayan your own business

Depending on which combination of 1-2 you adhere to there is a Mayan Theory that the world will end on 12/12/12 or 12/21/12. With these dates just around the corner, it might be time to prepare for the End is Near, maybe.

When I retired I told friends that the reason for my calling it quits was because  of the Mayans and I wanted to spend the last 6 months enjoying life not encumbered by the work of administering a school. I was under the impression that the end would come on the 21st and I complained that was too close to Christmas and could really put a dent in holiday shopping. Now if you believe dooms day is the 12th and you wake up on the 13th, then they are in the clear and can resume thoughts of sugar plums and lay away plans. Now for those of us who expect the end to come 4 days before Christmas there is a challenge. Go out and shop only to realize that it all comes to a crashing halt before you have a chance to wrap and distribute the goodies or wait and see. As I told my wife I will be holding out until the end and if we all see the dawn on the 22 then I will high tail it to CVS to buy gift cards.

Many of tried to debunk this theory and for the most part talk of THE END have dissipated. This is especially true in the north east as we try to recover form the Storm of the Century and the Nor'easter.  Some not so subtle hints from Mother Nature,who was partial to the Mayans, I hope not.

The least I could do

I remember Jon Stewart commenting on the involvement of the citizenry during the early stages of the 9/11 crisis and the war in Iraq.  He observed that people were doing as little as possible, perhaps flying a flag or chanting USA at rallies but little else. He said it as "the least you can do" emphasis on the least.

This past week, with the luxury of time, I decided to do my civic duty so I , drove people to the polls on Tuesday, every vote counts, and on Friday I was summoned to Jury duty.

 I woke bright and early put on my former principal clothes, save the tie and went to the Stamford Courthouse. Some things have changed and mostly for the better. The new facility has comfortable chairs, a small library with couches, a wide screen TV, coffee, vending machines and a cafe. Eight years ago when I was called to serve it was in the old court house complete with a basement waiting room, 2 folding tables, and folding chairs. This lifeless space was right out of Night Court or Barney Miller and it made the long day even longer.

What hasn't changed is the woman who for the next 8 hours would control my fate. Barbara, no last name, was in charge then and now. She rules the room with a no nonsense approach but with humor and in a constant state of motion. "Watch this video, did you sign in, come back in ten minutes, the following people please come to the desk".

After the video, 9:15 the waiting began. Approximately 70 people were called to serve and for the first 30 minutes you could hear a pin drop as we settled in on a potentially long day. Around 10:30 names were called, not mine as I hoped to be called for the disposition by attorneys, their is a french word for this but I can't spell it and every time it was mentioned, all I can think of My Cousin Vinny and Joe Pesce's pronunciation of the term. The first group called and DISMISSED! What? How did that happen?
Well back to my book. Currently I am reading a book about WWII pilots captured and spending time in a parishioner of war camp. I couldn't help but see the correlation between my fate and the sailors. Every time names were called I wondered, just like the prisoners, would I be going, on to the questioning or left to stew in my own seat. The hours ticked by, more names were called and the ranks thinned out yet again but not for me. Now it is 12:00 and Barbara is trying to find out what was going on. Despite her ability to command he room there are those above her who have more control over her and me and all those left in the jury waiting room. They weren't talking.

Finally the word came down at 1:05, there was a reprieve, we were free to go and the best part is that we could not be called back for 3 years, after all it is the least we can do.

+1000

During my annual physical last May my Dr. suggested a stress echo test to make sure the generator of my machine, my heart, approaching 64 years was in good working order. Never having any issues with my heart except when a murmur kept me out of the army, I put it off until yesterday. Hey I got time. So I went to the faux hospital in the neighborhood for the test. First there is the echo part with a ultra sound probe. Tickles a bit as I could hear my heart mimic the wash cycle. There was the familiar lub, tub sound of the muscle as it pumps to the the outer reaches of the body. Once done and the goop wiped off my skin I went to another room for the stress part. A very young nurse shaved parts of my chest, and all it reminded me of was the Seinfeld episode where Jerry shaves his chest hair. Kramer warns him that it will grow back with a vengeance but he does it anyway. How sad and has it come to this, a very attractive woman is paying close attention to me and I'm thinking Seinfeld!

"Hooked up,"a term which has become part of the vernacular  has a different meaning in the hospital. Wires and sensors were attached to my chest and after a few medical history questions, which after 7 decades I can still proudly answer, NO,NO,NO,.... I was ready to step on the tread mill, slower at first, the PA raised the angle and speed of the mill at least 5 times. Each increase brought a wake up call to my legs, but my pressure and vitals were all strong. The doctor came by read the monitor while I was on the mill and I saw him turn to the PA with a Why is this guy here?  look on his face. Usually a doctors pause raises a patients suspicion and a what, what, what do you see panic expression. But I could tell from how I was doing that he felt all was well. He quickly said you are doing great, you have the heart of a 20 years old!

After an abrupt stop, which nearly sent me over the handle bars, I laid of the stretcher for a check of my vitals. Once again great responses and a very commendable blood pressure reading. More goop to wipe from my chest and off to the doctors office for a post test eval. He reiterated that I was in fine shape, and I could and should exercise to lose weight. No restrictions, see you in 10 years. 

So today, I am unofficially, officially adding 1000 days, or 2+ years to my 7200 day, give or take calendar.  I'd officially change the name of the blog but that requires a whole other set of vital skills I have yet to master.

Even Community Organizers can grow up to be President, TWICE

I remember the mocking tone with which Rudy 911 Giuliani characterized candidate Obama at the 2008 convention. Well that year and this apparently proved that there is something about organizing the community that gets you elected President, TWICE. Take that Mr. 911, bitter old white guy.

All the talking heads seem to agree that the President and his organizers understood 2 years ago that the country had changed in the 2 years since 2008. The color and ethnicity of the country has changed and will continue to change to the point where by 2050 whites will be in the minority. A dramatic change in my lifetime.

Yesterday I spent a portion of the day driving voters to the polls. After all the mud slinging, false advertising, $6 billion campaigns, it came down to people like the women I drove to the polls who at 91 was still determined to make her vote count. She was well dressed, able to walk to the car with the assistance of a cane, and as we drove to the polling place, we talked about her upbringing, in the rural south, and the pride she had in her country. While I didn't ask her I imagined her pride that one of her own was the leader of the free world. Just as I will be proud when and if an Italian makes it to the White House. But it isn't the same as blacks still endure racism in so many ways, while, for now, whites of any background can assimilate.

At the polling place, in a minority neighborhood, it was great to see the faces of an up and coming political force, african-americans, Haitians, hispanics, all  waiting patiently on line, long lines, anxious to prove this is my country too.

Now on to what is so needed in this country, people coming together to solve problems. A 21st century skill that for now is lost in too much 19th century thinking.

Forward!

Trolling alert!

in the aftermath of the big one I went to the new, or not so new Fairways market in the SOTO section of Stamford. Yes just like SOHO, NOHO and DUMBO, and in an attempt to be hip, Stamford has named the area south of I-95, SOTO or South of town. Despite new condos, a Design within Reach furniture store and the quintessential gentrification institute, not including Starbucks, there is a Pain Quotidiens across the lot from Fairway. They do have the best Challah bread and to think that until 28 years ago I only knew Italian Bread, with seeds.

Picking up a 1/2 lb. of roast beef I noticed a sign inviting me to a Hosting The Holidays Food Sampling. This annual event, who knew? Will be on Nov. 3-4 at ALL Fairways stores including the one in SOTO.  OK! Free eats. Just a tip for those of you who like to troll the aisles at your upscale neighborhood food store.

I remember my firt venture to Fairways in NYC. The choice if not the prices were amazing and I dreamed of living in NYC and taking advantage of so much including Fairways. Well the fantasy of living, comfortably in NYC, has given way to the reality of retirement. But at least today I can go to SOTO and get a wedge of cheese on a cracker and for a moment imagine I'm in the hippest part of Manhattan-  SOHO

Panic mode

One of the byproducts of the big storm was the lack of gas, or so they say. Lines started forming in NJ stretched to Long Island and have come across the sound to CT. as those gas stations without power could not pump gas.

Having traveled but 40 miles in the last 4 days having enough gas was not an issue. With my new job, retirement, there would be no commuting to work, a total of 6 miles round trip.

Ever since gas broke the $4.00 mark I have not seen a full tank of gas, ever. I usually get $20 or 5 gallons of gas and that eases the pain a bit. However I do stop by the pump 2-3 times a week. Yet with the constant photo ops of long lines of people and cars waiting to get gas for their cars, generators, and perhaps motor boats,  panic mode is  beginning to set  in. Rumors have carpetbaggers from NY and NJ coming across state lines to waiting at OUR gas stations, waiting for MY gas! Sandy, smandy, don't come looking for gas in my backyard.

All the officials say this is a temporary thing and once power is up, gas shortages will be down, until then  NJ has instituted odd, even gas days. Ends in even, gas up today, ends in odd, see you manana. Those with vanity plates are considered odd. Truer words have never been spoken. So stay home more, read a book and  DN'T PANIC

Black eye peas

Where have I been and when did frozen peas become $2.50 a bag? Recently I have had to purchase bags of peas to calm down two swollen black eyes caused by some elective but necessary eye surgery.
Imagine my surprise when the cashier, said $4.98 for two bags of peas. Upon further inspection I noticed they were petite baby fancy grade A's. Anytime PETITE is on the label you are going to pay more because size, both big and small matters.  Perhaps if I went with the Green GIANT  brand, made in America would be cheaper?

At these prices, a slab of steak might be cheaper!

I was funnier when I worked

Every comic needs material, for Jerry it is the little things in life, the very little things!
For Red (dating myself) it was people watching and imitating their mannerisms.
For Bill it was about growing up, the family, trips to the dentist, etc.

Not anywhere near their league I was able to take advantage of my job as school boss to observe kids and adults. And while Linkletter (dating myself again) would disagree it was the adults who said and did the darnedest things. These observations plus the day to day business of being with people made for some pretty funny stuff.

Now I find myself depending on my wife to provide material and while lots of comedians begin with "take my wife, please" I find that hard to do, mostly because she reads this stuff and I'd find myself walking on thin ice. It is also a burden to put on her when up until June I had over 1000 adults and 500 kids to provide me with yuks.

I guess I'll have to rely on going to the supermarket to observe other retirees being dragged around by their wives or interact with the men who sit patiently at Bloomingdales as their wives try on just one more thing. Through the magic of smart phones, we can catch up on our calls or check email. I tried this a few weeks go only to find I have not built up a network of friends who I can correspond with.

 So for now I'll sit on the couch by the escalator at Bloomingdales and make believe I am deeply engrossed in my iPhone or maybe realize the guy next to me is doing the same thing and say, "Hi"!

Mayan, your own business

The Mayans predicted that the world would end on December 21. With all the dire predictions re: Sandy it seems like their prognostication may have been off by 2 months. I hope not and do hope all will work out.

A week from tomorrow we vote for President. The northeast might see prolonged power
outages and perhaps no electricity for weeks. Millions of people impacted. Also people will be so preoccupied with clean up that they not see the election as a priority. If that happens we might have a prolonged storm to contend with. One that could last for 4 years!

Be safe!

Come together right now, over Sandy

The longer we wait for the storm of the decade, century, millennium, AD, the more stuff we buy to make sure we survive the on-slaught of the wind and rain. What started out as a few extra batteries on Friday has developed into a pilot light ignitor, small light for the bathroom, more extra batteries, a search for a search light to accompany the one we have, 24-48-72 hour updates, to snacks, fishes, Progresso soup (this will be a first) and potato sticks! It must be the storm of the century if we have potato sticks.

This morning "we" woke up deciding that we need sand bags for Sandy. Now there is a entrepreneurial stand ready for some kids to take advantage of, I can see the home made sign "Sand Bags for Sandy". So at the 11th hour or is it the 9th hour, out I went in search of sand bags. Over to the local hardware store where I got the last bag of sand, but no sand bags! Unsure as to how we would make sand bags I heard form headquarters that the fire station at Cos Cob was offering sand bags. When I arrived I saw at least 30 people filling bags with sand. No panic, some concern but mostly people just being civil and  nice to one another.  These are probably the same people that would cut me off on the road, insist that they were ahead of me on the grocery store line and otherwise not give me the time of day, but as we anticipate Sandy we are all of the same mind towards this unwelcome guest.

The Thrill is gone

For as long as I can remember we have leased our cars instead of buying them outright. One of the benefits is the ability to drive the latest and greatest, in my price range, every 3-4 years. This has put me in a variety of car makes and models with very little loyalty. Unlike my father who was a  Buick, Cadillac guy or my uncle Mike who was a Plymouth driver my loyalties have changed, usually every 3-4 years. From VW to  Honda, to Nissan, to Subaru to Lexus. So every 3-4 years and usually 3-4 months before I really had to we would begin our car search. We've gotten pretty good at the whole negotiating thing and have come to realize that it is just a shell game with the winning bid under the shell that you don't see unless you are 1- ready to walk or 2- have your check book out.

Maybe it has to do with being a kid but I do remember going with my dad to sit in, drive in and ultimately pick up the 1960 Mohave Evening Gray Cadillac or the 1964 Sand Beige Coupe de Ville. No Cadillac was going to simply be called, Gray or Beige. There was a real excitement associated with "THE" day we picked up the new car. Sure in the 60's,  Mad Men Days, the Cadillac was a standout and I remember my dad always dressed to the nines on car pick up day and also on plane trips.

Today we'll drive to the Lexus Dealership to pick up the latest 3 year rental, a Matador Red Mica IS 250. Apparently car color naming is alive and well. 50 years ago I loved the excitement of the new car, the smell of the leather and never gave it much thought that once driven off the lot the car depreciates dramatically while the bank payments do not! And three years from now we get to do it all again. actually next November as the other car comes off lease.
I think I'll wear a tie to make it special.

Blah, blah, blah

I still have trouble typing in an email message on my i-phone. I find the keys to be too small or my fingers too big and so too often Jot becomes Kot, Does comes out as Foes you gat, I mean get, the idea. To the credit of the phone it usually picks up the error and self corrects, unless of course the mis- typed word is in fact a word, then things could get interesting.

Not too long ago I discovered the microphone key. Simply by pressing the key and as long as you speak S-L-O-W-L-Y and succinctly your words will remarkably appear on the screen. No typing, or retyping, amazing!
I do tend to think that when I use this shortcut I am not doing my job as a technophile, shouldn't I be practicing to strengthen my thumbs while acquiring speed and accuracy?

I downloaded an app that allows me to develop flashcards as I try to learn Italian. In an attempt to kill two birds, I started to use the recording device to eliminate the typing while practicing my pronunciation. Well this part of Flashcard needs work. Instead of LA PIENA (full) the software translated my voice to BLAH PTRA which is Greek to me!

Old dogs, New tricks

There is a myth that retirees retreat to malls across America once there is a chill in the air to get in their exercise. Gangs of gray haired folks in NB sneakers walking at a brisk pace past Victoria's Secret and the Sunglass Hut. Well here is a little Secret. Seniors in Fairfield County are at the mall but not to exercise the body. They are in the Apple store exercising their minds and keeping up with the latest technology. Very patient geniuses are talking a bit slower and a bit louder but to their credit using great patience as they, we, learn about fire walls, apps and iphoto. It's a beautiful thing and lends new meaning to the saying, if you can't beat them, join them

My (other) Best Friends

Today I celebrate my 64th birthday! But for the last 2 weeks I have been sent best wishes from some of my best friends.

    $20 gift certificate and a card from Brooks Brothers-  do they consider me a friend or a member of their family?

     A heartfelt birthday wish email from my dear friends at Jet Blue.

     Two messages from my financial advisor, an email, and a card with best wishes from a bull and a bear.

     Birthday greetings from my Lexus salesman and a gentle reminder, complete with business card, that there are great deals this time of year. Little does he know that I had been courting a Kia dealer. But in the end I stayed true to Lexus, was it his yearly remembrance of  my special day that paid off or was it that I am not ready to utter the words, "I drive a Kia."

And so at Zero Otto Nove Restaurant, volume up, cue Paul Anka and he inquires "Did you have a Happy Birthday, did you get the flowers I sent you?"

Perhaps moving forward in the social networking era,  he should amend the tune to ask, did you get the email, tweet or special 20% offer I sent you?

 and then waiters sing serenade you with a chorus of Hoppy Birfhday.... to me.

PS- blogger spell check does not recognize KIA but it does LEXUS. Omen?

Will you still need me....

Now that I'm 64! Well I will be tomorrow and when the Beatles sang that song 40+ years ago I never gave it a second thought. Well here it is, 40 years gone and to quote another pertinent song phrase, who knows where the time goes?

It is hard at times to recount the events of the last 4 decades and often one year blends into another. I envy those who can remember dates and events like they were yesterday. But I do remember the highlights, and there have been many. I also rely on friends and family to recount things I have forgotten and as a result I haven't missed that much and most of the blanks have been filled in.

My blog title refers to approximately the next 20 years of my life, keeping you but mostly me abreast of how I will spend my golden years. And while 65 is the traditional retirement year, I can't help but associate with Paul's refrain, will you still need me, will you still feed me. Fortunately at this stage of 7200 days I am needed and I can feed myself thank you.

Bonfire of the Mini-van

The South Bronx has always gotten a bad rap. First it was Howard Cosell during the World Series in the 70's telling the world that , the Bronx was burning. Then came the Bonfire of the Vanities that provided a boom to inflatable tires, especially for those yuppies driving to Manhattan by way of the Bruckner Expressway. Having spent my early life in the "country" part of The Bronx, Throgs Neck,  and then spending 4 wonderful years teaching in the shadow of Fort Apache (another endearing term) for a Bronx landmark, the police station, I never felt uneasy as I drove or walked around the neigh-ba-hood. 

All these years later and despite Herculean efforts to change the perception of this county, I experienced a Bonfire moment. Driving on the service road of the lower level of the Bruckner, I stopped at a light adjacent to the Hunts Point subway station. With the window up I could not hear but did see the woman in the van next to me, frantically trying to get my attention. I opened the window as she asked "Which way to the Bronx River Parkway"? I told her she was going in the wrong direction and that she needed to turn around and follow the Bruckner to the entrance about 2 miles back. SH#%! she responded but thanked me. The light changed and and she took off not relaxing that making a u-turn from the extreme right lane was next to impossible. I followed her and when she turned right I turned also. As I pulled up along side of her I could see she was in total panic mode, now that she was off the beaten path. This despite the fact that she was on Southern Blvd. a major road. She recognized me and looked relieved. I gave her further directions and off she drove. I'm confident she made it home. As I continued my trip to NYC, I stayed on Southern Blvd. and I must say that as you travel towards the Bruckner at 8:00 PM the side streets are eerily quiet.

My minds eye view of this part of The Bronx will always be colored by the wonderful years I spent there with some terrific people and as for me I'd never say, The Bronx, No thanxs!

Women WITH binders

Dedicated to: MTM, KC, DS, LS, CL, JM, KB- and binder divas everywhere.

Having been in education most of my life I have a lot of experience, attending meetings and professional workshops. One thing is for sure and that is if you attend a meeting you will leave with a binder. If the meeting is conducted by a woman, and most elementary school meetings are, the binders have colorful cover pages, are very organized, have color tabs to designate different subtopics, a table of contents,  charts, graphs, sample exercises, bibliographies and blank pages for notes.  You can rest assured that if a female collated the materials, they're in numerical order and seldom if ever will page 11 be followed by page 22 or would you have to snap open the binder to correct a page numbering issue.

Speaking for myself and not all men, whenever I was required to produce a binder of information I'd make sure I passed it by a female proofreader and in my career I've been blessed to work with quite a few.

Put that in your binder, Mitt!

you can't hit a home run sitting on the bench

Two weeks ago, the President sat passively by as Mitt hit a home run. It did seem to me that Barack did not want to be there and you had to wonder if he had anything left in the  Presidential tank or he was ready to have a talk show. If that was his plan he failed the interview that night and would make a terrible host.
Last night he came out swinging, was a fighter and I thought was on the verge of a Micheal Douglas moment in the movie where he plays the President and says, "Mr. _____, I am the President and....."
Great job and he hit the home run!

On another cable channel the reality show, Life as A-Rod, was playing out. In one of the most significant games of the season, the 600 home run man, sat on the bench, chewing seeds and probably thinking about catching a plane form Detroit to Miami after today's game. But first he'll have to clean out his locker as the events of the last 2 weeks have left him in the proverbial "dogout" as a future Yankee.

Trump, that bastion of upstanding, suggested that the Yankees void his contract for taking drugs, especially now that he is not hitting HRs, and without any chance of catching Hank Aaron,  they are ready to cry fowl and dump his $100,000,000 contract.

 Only goes to show, you have to be in the game to take your swings and you can't hit a home run from the bench in baseball or in politics!

The new Normal

Take it easy, don't rush onto anything, stop and smell the roses. All very good advice from those who wish me well in retirement. So far so good and I have been taking their advice.

No longer responsible for 500 kids and working 80 hour weeks we had a great weekend in NYC not too long ago.

Friday night, yes a school night, we drove into the city to the Guggenheim for the Picasso exhibit, Black and White. Cocktails, small crowds, mostly young,  viewing the master in a civilized atmosphere.

Saturday- Art show in Greenwich

Sunday - A wonderful lunch in the village  Back to NYC to an off, off Broadway play at senior citizen prices. Audience, mostly old made us feel quite young, that's the solution to this getting old thing, hang out with old people.

Alex, Mickey and Robert

The comedian Robert Klein tells the story of being a kid and crying uncontrollably when his idol, and mine, Mickey Mantle, struck out in a big game. Hearing him sobbing, his sister asked, "What is it, why are you crying"? "Mickey struck out"! And your crying for him? Do you think Mickey Mantle worries about you and is upset when you don't do well?  Snap out of it! From that day on he never cared, or cried for Mickey.

Today Alex Rodriquez, the Yankee superstar of the last 15 years has been benched for his unproductive work. First he was taken out of a game for a pinch hitter, who proceeded to hit 2 homers to tie and win the game. Today with their baseball backs against the wall, the manager benched A-Rod! While I am not about to break out the Kleenex, I can feel for the $250,000,000 + man. Now the question is, has he stayed too long at the parade and what happens to a guy who has 5 years and millions and millions on his contract. It must be hard to dissolve in front of an entire city.

Maybe it is time to take your bats and go home.... to your multi-million dollar home in Miami with cars and movie stars.

Cranky

For as long as car leases have been available we have taken "advantage" of the God given right of every American...to drive a new car every 36-48 months.

Usually around 90 days before the lease is due we begin to get friendly reminders from the finance company that it will soon be decision time. Do we buy out the car lease, an option we have never exercised, or do we hand in the car and take the keys, ugh, fob on a new model? We have always gone for the new wheels!

As we approach the end of the lease and taking advantage of our new found retirement time, our search has been expanded. Given to the new reality of cutting costs, you'll remember all the money I saved on shave cream, we are looking to lease a car that gets better gas mileage and will lower our monthly payments by 50+ dollars.

Our quest has taken us to the cute Fiat (with a $400 a month tag) Too High
Toyota Camry Hybrid ( logic here was that it looked (a little) like the Lexus Hybrid without the price tag). Sounded good but the monthly on this $30000 car was over $500. Too High
VW Passet (Too High) a lesser version of the car brought with it - THE CRANK. Not willing to spend $4-500 for a VW? So,  No power seats for you!  Instead, as with other lesser than $400 a month cars, you have to be subjected to cranking your driver seat to the right height, just like the barber chairs I remember as a child. Tony, yes my Italian barber was named Tony, would crank and crank until his scissors met my head.

We have looked at Subaru, Minis, little Lexus hybrids,  and two MA cars, Altima and Optima.
Surprisingly the biggest bang for the buck comes from the KIA Optima. Should I decide on this car it will be known as the Optima, not the Kia, Just can't bring myself to admit to driving a car with such an unfaltering name. Lots of bells, whistles, lights and a nav which has become a must have for my significant other. We tend to shop on rainy days and today it's pouring so we are on to the A cars, Honda and Acura. Having owned these in the past they have been perfectly good cars but not much fun to drive. And as a retiree I am all about fun, but at a lesser cost. I do hope we will not have to settle as this would make me CRANKY!

That Sunday Night feeling

As a kid it was the reality that Bonanza was over and so was the weekend. Back to school on Monday and invariably there would always be left over homework that I'd scramble to get done early the next morning. We all experience the Sunday blahs, the reality that the 48 hour respite called weekend was over and the weekly grind was about to set in.

 Since 1962, I'd leave some form of school Friday afternoon with all the best intentions to get the work done early in the weekend so that I'd be free and clear for some R and R. But the road to homework hell is paved with good intentions, so there I was late on most Sunday nights trying to "get it done". Very little in the way of learning for learning sake, just get it done so that you won't get into trouble.

Being in school in one form or another for over 50 years, I've had plenty of practice with this phenomenon and while over the years the shows changed from Bonanza to Sopranos I could never quite conquer the weekend cram. Over the last 12 years as school principal you'd think the workload would have lightened, NOT! There was the pithy weekly bulletin complete with puns and clever ( I thought) titles to give the staff a smile as their workweek unfolded. There was always some project, report, or test score analysis that had to be addressed for the week ahead. my weekends  were  study in practicability: Saturday chores, errands and house related work. On Sunday I'd get up early start to write, review and respond to central office requests for this or that, while J got ready for a day in the city or some activity that was not work related. Too often I'd need more time and would return home at 6:00 to pooped to be very effective.

With retirement all that stress is gone. Everyday is Sunday but in a good way. This past weekend we:
                   Went to an opening at the Guggenheim, on a Friday night, unheard of!
                    Leisurely walked around an art show then went to dinner with friends
                    Read the NYT to fine out about an off, off,off Broadway play.
                    Sunday had a great lunch at an Italian Restaurant, where I practiced my Italian, saw the play and had a cappuccino afterwards. Never once looking at my watch, I stopped wearing a watch 4 months ago, we arrived home just in time for 60 Minutes. Up until June this would have sent me into Sunday Night mode but with the new normal I was able to have dinner and then settle in with The Good Wife.
                         

It's in the genes

It must be in my genes not to spend over $50 for jeans, formally known as dungarees.
With a new lifestyle comes a new dress code and the hope that I will not walk out of the house dressed like a retiree. No velcro, no leisure suits, no sweat pants, no shirts screaming BEST GRAMPA!

So the other night I was in The City and visited an old haunt, Bloomingdales, the original not the watered down version that is in the burbs.

I remember driving down to Bloomies when I was in college to get just the right tie or to purchase some turtlenecks. A fashion must in the late sixties, very James Bond. In those days I seemed to be less susceptible to sticker shock. While prices were higher than some of the other department stores, you could always count on the quality of the merchandise.

For the most part the place hasn't changed much. The men's department has expended but you still enter on 3rd ave. The hat and scarf department is still in disarray as shoppers then and now pick through the bins. Sales reps all dress like undertakers, and now men as well as women spray you with cologne.

The basement has experienced a BIG upgrade and the concept of basement sales, are long gone as the place as been taken over by Polo, Cannalli, Boss etc..

The cheapest pair of jeans I found were $70! Being a 21st century guy I realized times had changed and I'd have to go for the extra $20 until I tried to try on the pants. Choosing the right cut requires a lot of patience and the ability to navigate through, STRAIGHT, BOOT CUT, SLIM, SLIM LOW WAIST, CLASSIC etc.  and my favorite, the jean that already comes with creases in the lap and back of the leg. I'll make my own creases thank you.  Being a classic guy I tried on the CLASSIC very loose fitting. They looked like Osh Gosh overalls with enough leg room to store several layers of bubble wrap. Everything else was too tight, had buttons in the fly instead of a zipper, or screamed LOSE WEIGHT!



Did get a shirt and a pair of shoes, but as for jeans, can't wait for the corduroy season.

Back to School night

With notebook and pen in hand I went back to school this week to learn Italian. Both of my parents spoke Italian so 50 years ago I could have learned for free but NO!

Arriving at school on the first day is always the same. New students mill around,  few words are exchanged  as we all wait to meet the teacher. Once in the classroom we choice our seats. Don't sit too close to that person. Unlike other first class experiences no one is breaking the spine of their new notebooks or writing their IF LOST RETURN TO info on the inside cover of their books, instead everyone is on their cell phone, checking or sending messages. I would guess some of the younger students, and all were younger, were texting about the old guy in class. It is amazing how the smart phone has taken over our down time.

The teacher enters, 5 minutes late, and begins speaking in Italian. For the next 90 minutes few English words are spoken. She is very understanding and patient and the class begins to drop their defenses and interact with one another, if only in italian.

The time goes by quickly and by the end of class I have 15 amicos, even the teachers pat guy who obviously had some italian training even though this is Italian 101.

Lose my shirt

About 2 years ago I disappointed my dry cleaner by deciding to wash and dry my own Brooks Bros. dress shirts. At the time it was a savings of $22.00 per week, where did that money go? Once dried I would hang these shirts in the basement and take one a day. After 30+ years of dress shirts things have changed.

Since retirement these shirts have hung in basement as I have been too busy to deal with this fashion change and life adjustment.  This weekend after 2+months of moving them out of the way whenever I needed to get to something in the basement I decided it was time to fold them up and store them. By consolidating and discarding other clothes I had a bin for storage. I discarded a few shirts but mostly folded and laid the basic blues and the whites to rest in the clear bin. Reluctant to jettison all the shirts, this box will be stored in the event that I need to dress for some event. However given what I have been wearing for the last two months this box need not be accessible.

To encourage one stop shopping and to help with my forgetfulness,  I will store my neck wear in the same box.

Riveting stuff!

Changing of the garb

Right around this time each year for the past 30 years I went through the annual ritual of changing the spring/summer wardrobe for the fall winter wear.
 All the linen jackets get packed away and out come the winter wools.
This year as I face the first seasonal change without the need to pay much attention to sport jackets and dress pants,  I have delayed the process. Also since we installed central AC, a godsend, we have pretty much lost the use of the attic for storage. The installation of aluminum duct work makes maneuvering the attic like crawling through the space shuttle dressed in a Brooks Brothers suit and Vineyard Vines tie!

By the way does anyone have any ideas on what to do with 60+ ties!

Do my duty

Last week I received my notice to serve on a jury. This is the first time I have been called to serve in over 20 years. Someone at the Retirement Board must be feeding this information to the justice department.
Big brother must be watching!
I'll gladly do my duty but a retirement card insert would have been a nice touch.

Boys who Lunch

 A version of the "ladies who lunch" has been taken up by this retiree and 2 buddies. But we have work to do.
Having spent 58 years on some form of school schedule it is very weird to be out at 12:00 having lunch in a restaurant, solely inhabited by the "ladies who lunch". To their credit they use the event as a social gathering to nibble at a salad, enjoy a diet coke and mostly chat about the time that has elapsed since last they met, even if it has only been 24 hours! This event can last over 2 hours, or until it is time to pick the kids up from school, whichever comes first.

As for the guys who lunch, we met at noon, ordered, ate, talked about the Yankee demise and were back in our respective cars by 12:45. Needless to say this new form of recreation is an acquired taste. As we plan to meet next month, I can only hope that the Yankees are still playing baseball in October.

Lunching at Costco, NOT!

 Many retirees troll at Costco for snacks and with any luck can put together a substantial fare of cheese puffs, BBQue chips, pigs in a blanket and faux Brooklyn strawberry cheese cake. Being new to this retirement  thing and with a reputation to uphold, today I sampling porcini rubbed prime rib @ 29.95 a lb. at  Mario Battali's Tarry Market. Here too one can knosh on pigs in a blanket . The pig was roast pork and the blanket was made of panchetta!


Don't tell the fellas at Costco.

What's important now

There was a time when I could only gloss over the morning paper looking for relevant articles about my business, education. I'd love seeing a parent at drop off who would alert me to an article in the Times this morning about....  and being able to tell him/her I read it and I here was my opinion! Score one for the well informed Principal.

With my new found and less demanding time schedule I have the leisure to really read the paper each morning.
Yesterday they included a section on RETIREMENT and the plight of the 401.  Pictured were  two septuagenarians, hand and hand, walking down the lane in some questionable clothing choices.

Two things to consider as I move further into my 7200 days, managing my money and avoiding bad wardrobe decisions, like brown shoes, white socks and shorts! Hopefully I can make good choices regarding both.

A matter of convenience

Having recently returned from Southern California I was struck by the fact that SoCal does not have convenience stores like we do on the east coast.

Living where I do I sometimes feel like we are in the convenience capital of the U. S. Need a pack of gum, newspaper, ice cream sandwich, lotto ticket, just go into a convenience store. There is usually one on every corner.

Not so in scrubbed SoCal, there you can only rely on a CVS or gas station mini-mart. The gritty convenience store with walls of magazine racks and bags of ice seems to be an east coast phenomenon.

Here are some business opportunities for transplanted east coasters, bagel shops, a good deli, Italian or Jewish, Dunkin Donuts and the drop in convenience of the convenience store....

Sweat pants

There is a Seinfeld episode where George, unemployed with no girl fiend or life,  arrives at Jerry's in sweat pants.
Jerry tells him that the look just says to the outside world, I quit!

While I am a long way from draw strings and elastic bottoms I am considering my next car.
The lease on the Red Lexus is up in December and I really would like to lose the high monthly payment and the expense of high test gas, but I am not ready to lease the sweat pants of cars, a gray, 4 door with no sunroof or leather interior.

What's a 60 something to do?

It's a HIT!

Judging from the hit-o-meter I had over 1000 visits to my blog since I opened it on July 1!
So even though I have yet to have any comments posted to the blog, it is good to know you're out there.

As you must have surmised part of this blog is to report on the wonderful world of retirement and to make observations about the things, people of a certain age, do. I am amazed at the ability of very young children to get the Internet and all things electronic. On the other end of the timeline people like me simply know the best time to go to Costco, and what to do with that "too big" lunch sandwich from Aux Delices.
Joyce has the same intuition as for the last two lunches she has wrapped up the left overs, brought them home and put them in the fridge for the next day. I must report however that yesterday she wrapped 1/2 of the #8 from Aux in a napkin and transported it home in an empty B-B-Que potato chip bag. OMG, it has come to this.

Cut off

Last Friday another phase of my GPS life was severed as I was removed from the GPS email system. Gone is the John_Grasso@Greenwich.k12.ct.us address. It is just as well as I need to break free of the past and move on.

Yesterday I attended an event for the Greenwich Alliance for Education. This group, made up of some of my favorite Riverside people, provides programming for Greenwich kids in need. A wonderful organization that does wonderful things.

When asked," How can we get in touch with you?", I was able to provide folks with my new business cards, thanks Eileen for the idea. Now I need a business.

Like talking to a chair

Having recently retired I am easing into the "senior" category.  I am working to keep my blog alive and to get the word out to the world of work from someone who has recently gone to the other side.

Clint's debacle at the RNC made me think of my blog. I feel like I'm talking to an empty chair. As since  I began the blog in July I have had very few comments.  The good news is that the blog has received almost 1000 hits since I began! I will continue to figure out how to get you to respond but in the meantime.....

Looking for a fixed income bargain, I signed up for the "Secret Special" with Dollar rent a car. This got me a "special" car at a special price. When we went to the rental office I found the Special to be a Ford Crown Victoria- the retirees special! Given the price of gas and the cars reputation for gas guzzling, I said NO! In reality the car just made me old before my time as this is a fav with Florida Seniors.

SoCal Adventure

Back from SoCal after 2 weeks on the left coast. Lots to write about and to process as we visited the land of free and not so freeways, surfers, tattoos, ocean views, face lifts and friendly people.
Plenty of good food and the beautiful city of San Diego.

But first I have to straighten out this blog thing as I keep writing what amounts to a monolog. How to get you to respond?

Some Getting Used To

For the last  12 years  August 14 was a work day. At school by 7:30 I'd check on the progress of summer repair work, consult with Anthony the custodian,  "Are we going to make the opening?"
Didn't really matter his response as the kids would be here on the first day. Amazingly enough we always made it!

We'd be preparing the summer letter to parents, with class lists. This annual ritual always resulted in a few disgruntled parents. However in the lat few years we did our homework and complaints were few and far between.

This year it is very different. Rather than going to work and seeing to the opening of school, I'm sitting on the porch reading the paper, eating breakfast and with no excuse not to go to the gym.

Still on the summer / fall clock, I haven't planned for my next move but sure have been giving it lots of thought. Now that it is dark by 8:00 I know the first summer of my retirement is passing and I look forward to my favorite time of year, Fall

DUM,DUM!

One of the real advantages of retirement is my ability to catch up on my farina, Dennis Farina, the actor. You know him as the mob boss in Midnight Run(my favorite movie) and as the detective in Law and Order. Every Saturday as part of my early morning workout at the Tully Center in Stamford I plug in my headset to a repeat, they are all repeats, story of L and O. The signature DUM,DUM! sound signals an hour of workout and working out the who done it.

I like going to the center on Saturdays early in the AM as the place is empty, just the way I like it. Going during the week and later in the day serves as a reality check that the days are going by.

Hope all are enjoying the hottest summer on record.

AAA, AKA ,DMV

Everyone hates the DMV and for good reason. All who worked there were trained in how not to make friends. Lines stretch on and on and once you got to "your turn" you'd usually find out you were in the wrong line. I think every time a customer is told, " Sorry, wrong line" the off duty representatives in the break room chalk up another sucker on their tote board and have a good laugh at our expense.  Imagine how pleased I was to see that  my local hometown AAA outpost started taking over the painful task of license renewal. However in the hands of AAA it was no biggie and might I say almost a pleasure. "$65 please, SMILE, done!- 10 minutes tops.

Like everything else in this, what can we do to screw this up, world, I went to AAA to get a Trip Tik book, a remnant of a simpler time only to find, AAA has become the DMV. At 10:00 the line stretched out the building, and with only 2 people working the desks, it was going to be a long wait.
 As I waited on line, one of the representatives did give a traveler a map of Wyoming. As a retired person I do not have time to wait, so I left to visit the app store in the hope that AAA had now joined the tech highway with a Trip Tik App. They have but the reviews were dismal at best.

Progress?

August 3, AM

Routine?
Got up, got out of bed, had an early breakfast, read the NYT and off to the gym for a morning, well 30 minutes actually, of exercise. There is a woman at the front desk at the gym who is very pleasant and seems to know who I am but I have no clue of how I know her. If only she and everyone else wore a name tag! "Tully Center receptionist, short brown hair... anyone, anyone?"
Have I told you lately how wonderful my wife is for talking me into central AC. Retirement would not be half as much fun if it wasn't for the comfort of AC. If you have been contemplating AC, just do it! The world isn't getting any cooler.
For those of you for whom weekends still matter, have a great one, as for me, what's today?

August Already!

As the calendar page flips to August I still am not getting those back to school feelings. I guess it is because I'm not going back!
I am sure I will feel a bit out of sorts as I have been preparing for back to school for 57 years! Wow, that is depressing!
One of the benefits of not working is that you can go to the supermarket off peak. However you do get to see the old friends, faces you remember and names you forget and who has taken an extra long lunch hour to by their produce.

Let's Blog

Let's get ready to blog!
Now that I was able to meet with My Secretary for life, I m ready to communicate via the blog thing!
Was in Boston over the weekend and we went to the North end, it ain't Arthur Avenue. Tourists galore. The food is ok, small OK. There was a feast going on with St. Joseph adored with dollar bills, and lots of T-shirts for their team.
Johnny Boston was performing on the bandstand with 4 guys from the old timers home backing him up. Well one guy on the accordian was playing while the other 3 sat poised to play their instruments although they never did. Johnny had a boom box that was providing the music. Then he introduced "one of the most talented gals in our business, Gina Boombats" or something. These fringe performers always refer to it as "their business.
Hope to hear from you all soon.

July 30

Miss me?Joyce and I were on the Cape to visit some friends who have a lovely home there. Right on the ocean....it is sometimes who you know that counts. while there we went out out on a 77 ft schooner for a beautiful luncheon sail in Yarmouth between the mainland and Martha's vineyard. It was an absolutely spectacular day with a beautiful lunch under the fluttering sails of a magnificent ship. This was our second outing on a rather large boat this summer and both times were very peaceful and luxurious. Better to know someone with a boat then to have a boat.From there we went to Cambridge and I attended a 3 day workshop on the arts. A major participant was Yo-Yo Ma who is a founding member of the Silk Road Project. Wonderful experience and a concert from the group including Yo-YO. He and I were classmates as he attended the workshops as a student. Terrific guy and very committed to the arts and education. Also met some amazing musicians who are part of the Project. One of the musicians was a spanish jazz bagpipe player, no joke, named Christine Paro, AMAZING! Google her.Came away from the conference with a great idea to implement a performing arts program for kids. Will discuss at a later date.One of the presenters remembered me from my attendance at a week long workshop 17 years ago, she even remembered the group I was in, group C, WOW! I knew I was a memorable guy but...Still looking to figure out how we can communicate as that is the purpose of  a blog, because without you it is a blah, blah, blah!Will post soon, hope summer is going well for all.

July 22

Sunday night and the end of a good weekend.
Yesterday we went to Smorgasburg an outdoor food fair in Williamsburg Brooklyn. So what if we were the oldest people there, the food was great and the day perfect. The views from the Brooklyn side of the East River to die for. Happens every Saturday in the summer, worth the trip.
today we went to buy Joyce a new lens for her camera. really thought that this would be less expensive then her spending time in Bloomingdales..NOT! But she is having a great time and totally enjoying her retirement as a photographer.
Well some of the back to school feelings have started to creep in as Target has a great deal on Bic pens and binders are 4 for a $1.00 this week. I will not give in to the temptation.
Hope you all had a great weekend too.
Went to see Woody Allen's To Rome with Love for the second time. Not so much the story but the  scenery (including Penelope Cruz) worth a second look.

July 19

Good morning the heat has broken and we can finally open the windows.
Dinner last night with some good friends, the Barths. I have been very fortunate to have made some wonderful friends during my time as Principal. 
Ordered business cards today as I prepare for the next chapter. Great tool to use at the senior home as my new friends will obviously need visual aids to remember my name. God knows I'm there already! If I was in charge all would have name tags 24/7.
Good Bye,
my name is
John

July 18

Haven't been on for a few days as I am trying to work out the kinks of google +. Saw my secretary over the weekend but we did not work on the blog. Hope to get it straightened out real soon. In the meantime been getting used to the retirement clock. Took off my watch on June 22 and haven't worn it since. Haven't been late yet!
Have I told you how much I love my wife for the central AC she convinced me we needed. After 25 years of room air and humidity it is a pleasure to walk into a cool and dry house, especially in this heat.
Hope all are having a great summer.

July 13

Just did some banking both on line and in person and was very proud of myself all seemed to go well. I was also able to go online and set up my electronic account. Getting the hang of this fast moving electronic age. 

July 11

Time goes by. Today I received in the mail my copy of the AARP newsletter, most of you also receive it, admit it!
Great information on how to save money which will be a pastime of mine over the years. 
Joyce commented yesterday that I was looking a little closer at the price of things in the supermarket. When did Nabisco Vanilla Wafers become $5.00?
Also am considering dropping Face Greek yogurt at $7.99 for a cheaper Greek brand. Oh the sacrifices we make.