To Pass the Kidney Stone.... or not...? That's the Question...

If I had to choose between playing a round of golf in 80 degree weather at a prestigious private club or passing a kidney stone... I would choose golf, even if I had a bad round... Well, last week.... I was presented with both...... Last Monday I was scheduled to play at the Chippanee Golf Course in Bristol Connecticut. At the restaurant, we have a couple of great customers, Jim and Colleen, who frequent our place for a meal or an occassional drink. In the past they treated Billy Cal, my night Vampire bartender, and myself to a round at the TPC course in CT. So every year Colleen has a charity outing for L.I.S.A., which stands for Living in Safe Alternatives. The L.I.S.A. also remembers Lisa Steinberg, who was killed by her adoptive father, in NYC years ago.. It's a great organization that helps children in need. It's something that she feels very strongly, and actively promotes... (This is where you are supposed to stand up and gently clap for her efforts)... Go ahead... I'll pause.....

So Billy and I talked about it all summer, and we both felt it was important to be there. Of course it's easier for the Vampire, he's not due in until 6pm on Monday's, and there will be a good chance he will ask one of the girls to cover him... I on the other hand, need to be in by no later than 1pm, so I can do my monday obligations, food & liquor ordering, payroll, etc etc,.. But knowing I was playing in the Scramble Tournament, I planned ahead, (anyone that knows me, knows I don't plan ahead well... )... I did all my food ordering on Sunday, after a grueling Sunday Football Crowd... Called in all the orders ahead of schedule... So I am ready....

I go to sleep, and no.... I did not sleep with my new driver.... I don't know where these rumors start.... I slept like a baby, (I cried and wet the bed).. Just kidding..... I didn't cry...

I wake up around 5:45am, with a little spasm in my back, of course I think nothing of it, as I sleep on a pull out coach at my sisters, in which the mattress rivals the Rolling hills of Tuscany, (I've never been there, but you get the drift),... I roll over, and sleep a little more... A few minutes later I awaken with the same type of cramp... Now I try and remember back, and yes, I think I am getting a kidney stone... I jump out of bed, run to my car and grab my prescription for anti-inflammatory pills, for just this type of emergency. As I chew the pill, (I've eaten Big Macs in 3 bites but I gag when swallowing a pill), Then i read the label, huh... it says do not use after 5/2007... Ok, so what's the deal, by Thursday do I grow an arm out of my back??? No... How about a reaction that causes my head to have rapid hair growing making me look like the Werewolf?? Needless to say after a few minutes of over thinking I drift back into a painkiller sleep.... I get up, feel great and head to the course... If it is a kidney stone, I've silenced it's deafening pain...

At Chippanee, I get there first, then Billy the Vampire, Mark Bird, and Chris G, "the ghost" show up....

Great we got a Vampire, a Bird, a Ghost and a fat guy in shorts, (me)... It should be fun... We eat, like sailers going to sea for eternity... Okay, Maybe it's me that eats that way, The Ghost has some cole slaw and fruit... The Vampire goes for a burger, Cooked Rare of course... The Bird, well... he eats like a Vulture..... Me... I try to fuel my body wisely, thinking about utilizing the nutrition so I can squeeze out a few extra yards on my drives off the tee.... So I eat 2 Hamburgers and a Sausage patty, with no bread... I'm ready....

So this event is what they call a Scramble, all four golfers tee off and then you take the best ball, and all of us hit from that spot... I would rather play a regular round of golf, but in events like this, it speeds up play and lets you talk more when you're all standing in the same spot... We are to start on Hole #3, The Vampire snaps his cape and says follow me, (instead of flying or turning into a bat), he drives the cart... He's played here before, he knows his way around, well within seconds we are far away from where we are supposed to be, I tell him I think it's over there, motioning in a Northeast direction, he brushes my input away like King Kong swatted fighter jets away... He heads in a Southwest direction, all the while The Bird and The Ghost are following us like they followed the Pied Piper... Once Fang mouth realizes I am right, he asks for my help... We get to the right spot, a Par 3, and proceed to start the days round. It's almost 1pm, tee off was supposed to be at 12:30pm, but more importantly, no signs of the Kidney Stone... So I'm good....

All in all it was a great day, clear skys, jokes, beers for the other three, snorts of laughter, crotch grabbing, (we don't grab each others crotches, I really needed to clarify that), a fun day of golf...

We get back to the clubhouse and they have a tremendous dinner planned, it is then when I realize I can't stay, I have to work tonite... So I head to work. Once there, we get ready for the game, I check in with the girls, Erica, Taryn & Cassandra, they're fine, so I go to my sisters to change, once back my foe returns, The Kidney Stone... It is then that I decide to take another pill. I tell myself, "I'll be fine once this thing kicks in", of course I turn my head around to make sure the expired pills haven't made that extra limb grow yet.. I'm still good, just in a little pain..

Let me step back, have you ever had a kidney stone??? If not, you're lucky, if you have, well then, you know it hurts something fierce... They say that it's the closest men can feel to giving childbirth... And we're talking about a stone the size of a grain of sand... As much as it hurts, and in years past I can tell you it really does hurt... I'd much rather have a stone than squeeze a football out of a garden hose...

I'm doubled over now... I chew another half a pill.. Eventually the pain subsides... I finish at work... and go to sleep...

Tuesday morning I pass the stone... I'm good now for a few more years...

So if you're wondering, I suggest golf over a kidney stone...

I have to get up at WHAT time?????

That was the theme this past weekend in New Hampshire. You see my wife entered a Triathlon with her uncle in and around Lake Winnipesaukee on Saturday August 16th. As a good husband I drove her there and gave her as much support as possible. But no where did I agree to awaken at an ungodly time... Saturday I had to wake up at 4am, so that I could do my business, shower and be alert and ready to drive there at 5am. I've have never had such a tough challenge except maybe when I lost my virginity, of course in retrospect, the obnoxious, skinny girl with a back in 1978 wasn't that much of a challenge... But that's a story for another blog...

(Time for pee break or grab some coffee, this is gonna be a long one)

My wife has been tremendously understanding as I work too many hours too far from home. So when she cast out the line and said, "will you go with me?" I lunged at the hook.... (a little fishing reference since this is a story took place in New Hampshire), Friday she met me at my sisters in Woodbridge,CT at 9 ish, at that point we headed north... My car had been cleaned and defumigated from dirty socks, fastfood leftovers, stale coffee and the occasional cigar... her only complaint was the air freshener was little "overwhelming", mission accomplished I might add....
I had my standard Dunkin Donuts Large coffee for the ride... By the time I hit Hartford, (40 miles or so) I was ready for another coffee, by Springfield, MA I was ready for a pit stop. About ten miles from the MA/NH border I had to pull over... Nice trees on the side of I-91.. Okay, so we are back on course, and as we hit the border it's hard not to marvel at the mountains just north of us. You seem to forget how infinitesimal we are to the world around us... it's beautiful, but this great country has many outstanding views... I would like to digress, a big thank you to my nephew Garett for letting us use his Garmin GPS, we had fun with it, of course we called it Tom... Driving on we made good time, as we departed the interstate and jumped on Rte 5 to cross over the river from Vermont to New Hampshire and start our last 20 miles thru the mountain roads, I had to stop again to ...ummm.... see more trees on the side of the road...
We finally made the trek to Highland Street in Plymouth to her Uncle's house a mere 3 1/2 hours later... We gave my mother-in-law her birthday present, and did a quick tour around the property, it had been a year since we've been there, and Uncle Phil had a beautiful stone wall put up with a gate with granite pillars, (granite pillars are to New Hampshire what chain link fences are to prisons.... apparently common and desired) At this point I snapped a picture of the flowers, etc and this butterfly... Diana, her mom, Uncle Phil and myself headed for the Winnipesaukee to register and drop off the bikes, this trip saves me from getting up even earlier on Saturday, race day. We drive with Garett's Garmin, a/k/a Tom, but Uncle Phil directs us a different way than the GPS says, We head to Gunstock resort to register. It's on top of the mountain overlooking the lake, they had to register and get their packets and then head to Ellacoya State Park on the shore of the lake to drop off the bikes for the race. The New Hampshire Humane society had a tent at Gunstock and we stopped there to give a donation check to them, my wife, (actually me) went online and registered with firstgiving.com so that animal lovers like ourselves would donate to the NHHS. She raised $580 online and another few bucks with checks. So thank you to you all, (thank you from Diana to her friends, Marion, Suzanne, Sandra, Lucia, Jackie, Neil & Leslie and my friends, Billy Cal & Melissa, my childhood best friend Brian, Colleen & Jim, my Budweiser salesman Geoff and my niece Briana, a/k/a Beezer).We then dropped off the bikes and every time I am loading the bikes or opening my rear hatch I get the grease from the chains on me.. As I complain, I hear my wife in the background, "suck it up... it's just grease"...
We then headed back to Plymouth for dinner. Diana and I ate at The "Plymouth House of Pizza", they had redone the place, new paint, new carpet, same old old chairs and tables, but it was nicer than last year. At one point I ventured over to the bar area, surrounded by pool tables I was staring at the TV, as the Little League World Series were being televised, and a NH ruffian asked me, "What are you looking for??" I said, I'm looking for the Shelton CT little league team, his response, "yeah... they beat my little brothers team last week..", I smile and apologizes then headed back to my wife and ate my salad and burger... Back to the room, at the Red Carpet Inn, which was a 1 star motel at 10 star pricing... We watched the Olympics and I forced myself to sleep early as I mentioned I had to awaken at 4am... ARRRGGGHHHHH....

At 4 am my wife nudged me awake with a broom handle, knowing I wouldn't be receptive to that hour, I only bit off 8 inches of the handle before I came out of my grogginess... We picked up Mrs. McEwen and Uncle Phil and headed to the race... My eagle eyes spotted an open Dunkin Donuts on route 3, I cut right sharply (squealing my tires), threw my wife a 10 spot and pushed her out of the car for my coffee, I think her mother wanted to tell me to stop the car first before pushing her daughter out, but in the rear view mirror she could see my red swollen eyes and foam dripping from my mouth, so she said, "can I have a tea", instead...
We continued on our path to the lake shore. We made it in time to park close to the race.. At this time my coffee was almost empty and the foam was starting to brew at my mouth again and then through the fog, like an oasis in the desert, I saw it.... A Dunkin Donuts truck parked by the portapotty's... I ran over, leaving my mother-in-law in the dust and ran to the back of the truck where two young, sleepy DD employees were setting up, and I thanked them, (I'm sure they wondered who is this moron thanking them at 5:30 in the morning was). I'm sure they will know who I am soon...Uncle Phil's swim was at 7:15, Diana's 45 minutes later.. It's a swim first, bike second and finished with a run... Sounds easy right??? Not exactly, first off, you swim in the lake which seemed bigger than the state of Rhode Island, (most things are), with others in your class, arms flailing. legs kicking, it's no wonder someone doesn't drown... but here comes Uncle Phil, lime green swim cap up on shore... I cheered from him, but with all the commotion and the noise he didn't hear me. I waited for the yellow caps, my wife's class. Here she comes, coming out of the water smiling, a far cry from her first tri in Florida 8 years ago, when she came out of the Disney World lagoon with tears in her eyes...

If you have never been to an event like this before, you should go to one, besides the obvious, it starts way too early, it's a great event, all the spectators cheer and encourage one and all... There were 1000 people in this race, all shapes and sizes, in fact "Team Anger" had a few guys that looked like Chris Farley & Artie Lange, wearing Speedo swim trunks, I believe in some southern states this practice is against the law... As this behemoth lurches out of the water with flesh and skin jiggling, a few small children ran for cover. But kudos to them, this is no easy feat...

It was then time for the bike. I jogged over to the transition area to cheer my wife on, once again she was smiling, (go figure), off to the races with her new Specialized carbon fiber bike, (it's extremely light weight helps in any race). I snap a shot of her then head to the bike finish line to snap a shot her coming back in. Needless to say, at my advanced age, I couldn't tell if it was her flying down the hill, so I snapped about 15 pictures of people that I thought was her... By the time I realized it was her, I got a blurred shot... oh well, there's always next year. She made it through her transition to the run quickly. Then off to jog the last leg...
The beauty of an event like this is you end up cheering for everyone, and with everyone's bib numbers, is their first name, so you can bark out encouragement to all. by this time, my voice is hoarse, my hands are numb from clapping and I'm due for more caffeine.. But who can I complain to???

I see Uncle Phil finishing his run, and then I catch my wife almost at the last stretch run...
They finish.... GREAT JOB to them both....
My wife was in the upper third for all women... and Uncle Phil finished in third place for his age group... TREMENDOUS effort for them both.. I was proud of them both and for a fleeting moment I thought I could attempt this next year.... Just a fleeting thought, (honey I'm kidding, it's for comedic value, there's no way I can do this, even if you trained me for a year, so don't even ask..)...They both had snacks after the race provided by the sponsors... We waited around for the award ceremony... That's where Uncle Phil got his medal.. Then headed back the "Foster" Inn... The house that Uncle Phil lives in during the summer has been in their family since the early 1920's. It's a 28 acre plot with a gorgeous colonial built in 1804. The house has great old photos of the previous owners and some of the Simpson/Foster/Adams/Gore lineage If you're nostalgic you'd love it... Mrs. McEwen stays there with her brother in the summers and they both spend winters in Arizona in their respective homes...

My father-in-law, Kenneth Arthur McEwen is buried about a l mile away. Passing away early last summer after arriving from the west. A former US Marine who served this country in WWII. I brought my wife to the cemetery and saw the stone and bronze medal flag holder supplied by a grateful government. I'm sure he was watching with pride his brother-in-law & his oldest daughter during the contest.

Diana & I had lunch at Plain Jane's Diner, a short distance from Plymouth in Rumney, I had a salad & a burger... It's a cool little diner right out of the '50's and it has a cruise night every Wednesday for classic cars... Maybe next time we're here, it will be a Wednesday and we'll go...

Back to the room, and exhausting day to say the least, my hands are throbbing.... voice still a little strained, but I think I can gut it out a bit more...
Diana and I take a nap, it's only 1pm... wow.... you get a lot done when you wake at up early... We have dinner with Mrs M & Uncle Phil at Foster's Inn.. I ask, but they tell me it is no relation to them... I have a burger and a salad...

Head back to the magic carpet ride motel... their slogan is.... "located in the woods, but priced for the big city" .

We left for home on Sunday morning, hooked up Garett's Garmin again then tormented it with wrong turns to upset the womanly voice... By the time we hit Plain Janes for breakfast the Garmin was saying stuff like... "Garett listens to me" and "Garett never takes alternate routes" and finally, "Bring me back to Garett please"...

All in all, it was a great weekend, the only flaw was it wasn't long enough... I hope to come back to New Hampshire soon, and of course it would be nice to have my wife there too...

Just for the record... Diana... I was kidding I am not going to enter in next years Timberman event..... (but I am man enough to admit that my wife can outrun me and beat me up...)

Great Job to Diana and to Uncle Phil... and a Happy Birthday to Pippa too!!

I can't wait until next year, when I have to get up at WHAT time?????

It's Time for Men to put away Childish Games

As the title says.... "It's time for men to put away childish games" ever so eloquently stated by the coach in North Dallas Forty an old Peter Gent novel & adapted movie starring Nick Nolte.

My standard answer... "Not yet baby...not yet"... Hence the story of my latest interest, mens softball... Let me explain... A few months back, I had heard thru the grapevine at the restaurant, that Steve Katz, one half of my "exalted monster leaders" at work and the sole owner at Katz's Deli Restaurant, a very popular New York style deli in town, (Steve you owe $20 bucks, this blog gets read by many...... 4 people at current count), had sponsored a team in the Jewish Community Center of Woodbridge Sunday morning mens league... Well, good for him...

In week two, he came to me, and asked if I could play softball on the upcoming Sunday. Obviously he had heard the legendary stories of my Little league success when I was 10 years old, that.. or they really had no one else to ask...

It's an old story... check back in an earlier blog....

Now I wear number 26, it's because of my birthday, you see I was born on July 4th... just kidding, I was born on the 26th of November.. a great day... Thanksgiving..

Anyhoot we somehow beat the number 1 seed on the final week of the season and earn ourselves a bye for the first game of the playoffs...

My wife Diana, surprised me and showed up at the game... no big deal right?? Well, considering it's a form of torture for her to get in her car and drive 1.4 miles to the A&P in town I think it was pretty damn nice of her to show up, we live 74 miles away from the field... Of course, I have no added pressure to perform excellence with her in attendance... I've let her down so many times before, she really doesn't expect much.... I had three hard linedrive basehits, two nice plays with the glove, (no... not quite Lou Gehrig type range), and we won, beating the Big Boys team...
Maybe you've heard of them, their right center fielder has a 4 foot long mullet, and John the wearwolf plays third, He's got more hair than Sasquatch!!

We earn the right to play in the CHAMPIONSHIP GAME!! Starting Monday, all I think about is the game... Clean my uniform, brush off the dried dirt from my cleats, wipe off the dirt residue from the laces... I may not play well, but I'll look clean..

Tuesday I'm daydreaming about plays that I hope to make, everyone one of them certain locks for the highlight films...

Wednesday I pose in the mirror going thru my batting stance... Fast, then in slow motion, I can actually see the ball deformed as it ricochets off my bat...

Thursday.. I make a conscientious effort to eat better this week so I am properly nourished for the game. So no extra pepperoni on the pizza for me today...

Friday... the anticipation is building, getting my game face on, yelled at my servers today for forgetting coasters with the customers beers... Stay away from me... I'm getting into a zone...

Saturday... I'm on edge, looking for a beef... I'm soooo ready for the game tomorrow....

Sunday morning at 4am, I awake, I hear a thunderstorm brewing... I mutter to myself... "The God's are with us"....

Sunday morning at 6am, the window has few droplets but I see sunshine... Ohhh what a glorious day it will be....

Sunday morning at 7am, I check the clock, 45 minutes of sleep before I get up....

Sunday morning at 8am.. "SHIT.. I'm late"... now I gotta hurry, getting up, quick shower, (nobody likes a dirty ballplayer)... hit Dunkin Donuts for that coffee I really need... Drive to the field.... Ummmm... there's nobody there..... but... where...... Did they move the game and not tell me? No... it can't be.... YES... it's been called because of rain...


ARRRGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH... I can't go another whole week with this type of anixety... Can't we play an hour later??

NO.. the game is now scheduled for Sunday 9am August 3rd....

I gotta admit... it's a little anti-climatic at this point... I was hoping this week we'd get to go to the Hartford Capital and meet the Govenor or something.... I don't know... maybe a team photo for The Sporting News??.. Nothing too big, maybe a plaque in Cooperstown.... Ok maybe that's a bit of a stretch... But no... no game and now we have to wait....

As the week goes on, I find out Warren (The other half of the Exalted Monster Leaders)... is going to Myrtle with Steve "Steinbrenner" Katz so he won't be there. Jamie, our cleanup hitter and right center fielder will be at Cape Cod with his family, (obviously he doesn't have his priorities in order), and we may be missing more...

Oh well... maybe if we win I can get a trophy to put next to my 1971 Orange Little League trophy and three bowling trophies I got in 1974-1976...

I don't know... matter a team jacket with the team and league logo.... What is our league logo, a bagel with a slice of lox?? A knish?? Whatever.....

Okay, I won't bore you again with the weekly prep, but Sunday rolls around and it's truly a beautiful day...
We are the home team... so we take the field first... We get them out 1 2 3.... Our turn to bat... 1 2 3, okay, so both teams are little rusty... It's the second inning they tag us for a few runs... well, actually 12 runs... But hey, it's only the second inning right?? We're up now..... 1 2 3.... That's ok, plenty of time to come back... it's softball, it's not over yet....

We hold them to 10 more runs... it should have been 15 but we sneak out of the inning down by 25.... In our half of the inning, we claw and fight back with a monster rally.... we score 3 runs...

Well, you get the drift here, right??? we go one to lose a somewhat respectable 28 to 16... We do our obligatory handshakes on the field, and we watch as the team photo is taken.... Why are they smiling.... ???

It's time to think about next year, Mark our team captain hugs me and thanks me for playing and asks me back for next year... Yeah, barring a seizure or a coronary.... I'll be there...

So in closing..... I must admit..... it's NOT time for men to put away childish games... not yet anyway!!!

Domestic Chores.. Are they Good for you or Bad???

I'd have to say.... domestic chores are bad for you.... Of course, that's my opinion... I am a homeowner, been one for 15 years.... Those chores never go away....

For instance, my wife wants to redo our bedroom, it hasn't been updated for the 15 years we've been in the house. I think it's time... So she was working, (Flight attendant for an airline that will remain nameless), so she's flying International these days, and she will be coming home around 9:30pm on my only day off of the week. She mentions something about ripping up the carpet, and putting a new area rug down... I'm ok with that... So she leaves and I decide that I am going to rip up the carpet for her as a treat, so when she gets home it will all be done... I'm a nice guy...right? Actually, the truth is, ripping up the carpet with her help, (she's no sissy who's worried about her nails), and having her carry the heavy stuff, (she's stronger than me and can outrun me), is so much better than moving all the furniture myself, ripping the old carpet up myself, and reorganizing the room by myself.. right??? Well, not exactly, because she's also smarter than me, so her constant correcting of my ripping up techniques would get me frustrated... I'll just do it myself....

The room is only 10x9, so how long can it take, 20 minutes? Maybe 30 minutes, definitely no more than 45 minutes, right???

My plans were to get up, grab a cup of coffee with my buddies, then rip up the carpet, cut the lawn then get in a round of golf. Eat a nice meal, shower and be ready for her to see the surprise when she gets home, no, not having the carpet out, but seeing me clean from a shower.... (Just kidding)...

I woke up, grabbed that coffee, cut the lawn, and then proceeded to attack the carpet, checking the clock it's 11:30am... I should be on the golf course by 2pm....

It's now 1pm, I have two small cuts on my hand, my knees are killing me and I've misplaced the hammer for the third time.... but all the furniture is out of the room except the TV, (of course...I can't do anything without the TV on), and the bed, which I will move around to get access to the carpet....

The actual art of pulling up the carpet is a breeze, it's the tack board that has been nailed into the floor for 20 plus years that will require a little labor... you know.. the kind of labor that drains me of a bucket of sweat, I've ripped up the carpet, cutting it in 2 foot rolls, opening my bedroom window and throwing it out over the shrubs... All the while two of my cats are sniffing at the door.... (apparently their afternoon nap on our bed has been interupted).. now besides the carpet, and that tack board, (3 more small cuts)... the foam and the staples that hold the foam cushion to the floor need to be removed...

It's 3:15pm... golfs out for the day.... almost done, (2 more cuts)... where's the pliers now....?

The room has been de-carpeted, tacks are gone, staples cleaned out, floor swept and mopped, (ok I didn't mop but I swept real good).... Job is complete...... it's now 5:45pm time for dinner...

Since I worked so hard I'm gonna treat myself to a Kintchley's Pizza... Pepperoni & Meatball... maybe chase it with a box of double chocolate Milano cookies....

Time for bed.... midnite...

12:42am... Still awake... half watching a movie .....

1:27am... Awake... could care less about the movie...

2:28am.. dosed off I think... Thirsty as heck.... down a bottle of Glaceau Vitamin water.. (50/50)

3:48am... Feel like I haven't slept, maybe a little though.... Still thirsty... drink more fluids

5:21am... too much fluids, gotta pee now....

6:01am... "Go away Bobby.. it's too early to be fed..." Bobby is my male cat, who takes it upon himself to check the clock and decide he the other two girls want breakfast...

6:06am... "Stop it.."

6:11am... "Leave me alone.."

6.23am... "Alright... I'm up..."

6:28am... back in bed, cats are eating....

Had a rough nite sleeping. It had to be the whole carpet thing.... Plus I moved to bed by the window and I just didn't feel right sleeping that way... It couldn't have been the pizza... no... of course not...

I can't wait until next week when I get to paint and spackle.......

Hey is it hot enough for ya??

Hey is it hot enough for ya?? Yeah... it certainly is.... Today is the 4th or 5th day of this oppressive heat, who could keep count? I'm delirious....

I work in a restaurant, if you actually read this, you already know that... (hey a guy can hope for new readers, can't he?).

The restaurant has been set a balmy 76 degrees. Compared to the outside, it's like being inside a fridge. I love it when I'm in the kitchen, (usually 125 to 130 degrees thanks to our new best idea, PIZZA, in pizza ovens), then I walk back into the dining room, with a fountain's worth of sweat dripping off of my head, arms and other areas fortunately covered by clothes. Then right there, at table 13, the woman says, "Could you please turn the air conditioner down, it's giving me a chill.." Yeah, sure... right on that... here's a beach towel to soak up my sweat that pooled on your table, while you uttered that 13 word request...

Yesterday I didn't have to be at work until 1:00pm, I of course pushed that 1:53... I played golf with Billy Cal, my night bartender, and "G", who will remain nameless, and "G's" brother, "C"... Once again... sshhhhhhhh... don't even ask me who...

Anyway we, (okay me), organize a tee time for 9:30am, it's the absolute latest I can tee off and expect to be at work on time, and it's exactly the earliest I can convince my night vampire, err bartender, and "G" & "C" to show up. We decide on a local course so that it's quicker for me when we finish. So off of Clark Lane in Orange CT, we pull up in the lot of Grassy Hill Country Club. Once a prestigious private club for the "cool" 60's crowd. My dad wasn't a member. A few of my friends dads were members though. I once worked a New Years Eve Member party there as a busboy when I was 17 years old. But that is another story in itself.

It's now 9:29am, and "C" & I are there waiting for the other two, ohh.. there's Billy Cal, stiffly walking to the clubhouse with a lit Cohiba hanging from his mouth,. By the looks of his shirt, he must have just fed twin babies in the parking lot, because it looks like he's been lactating for an hour. At this point "C" is laughing, I look over to him, and he tells me when he called his brother 45 minutes ago, and told him we were golfing, his reply was, "That's today?". Yeah, I told him yesterday, his brother told him last night, perfect response, nonetheless, he'll be here on time.

At this point Billy has waddled up to a closer distance to the clubhouse, it's here that we hear his moans & groans... "I hate this f*ck*ing course, it's too hot for this, I'm too old..", I look at "C", he's fine, he's ready...

It's 9:33. "G" pulls in, from this angle it looks like he was driving with his eyes closed. Face all red, but looking as dapper as ever, neatly pressed shirt, top knotch golf shorts, and a slight odor of liquor... ever so slight... apparently "G" & "C" were at a family party at another restaurant last night, "G" mumbles something about 5:00am... not sure what language that was...

The four of us stumble into our golf carts and proceed to the first tee....

The starter mentions something to us about an outing at 1:30, so if we aren't on the 18th tee by then, we would have to cease play. Billy, ever the diplomat, "What if we don't... are you gonna shoot us?... Friggin' Grassy Hill, wouldn't it be nice if you told us before your took our green fees,... not a problem I'll never play this course again...", the starter gave us his standard goodbye, "Enjoy your day gentlemen"...

And we're off... We played a few holes and then we caught up to a threesome at
number 4, a twelve year old boy, his thin dad and grandfather, swinging like they were street sweepers... At number 6 we passed them and caught up to the "Night of the Living Dead"... A foursome with the combined age of 3,752, give and take a decade.. By number 7, Billy was rumbling thru his golf bag for a gun, to kill himself, he muttered something along the lines of trying to walk up to the old guys to kill them, but it was too much effort in this heat.

At one point Billy was way right, almost in another fairway, standing by the cart 5 feet from his ball, waiting for the old guys to clear the green before he attempts his approach shot and another foursome of retirees, drive up to as they are looking for their ball and make the mistake of asking Billy a stuipid question.. "Is that your ball?". Billy, ever the politically correct orator, answers with, "Yeah, it's my titliest, I'm lieing 17 waiting to hit the ball... how am I doing? Huh?". They quickly steer away from this cigar puffing, lactating miserable man. The rest of us turn away and laugh.

The front nine took forever, in a 2 hour and 45 minute pace, the geezers gave up, we went out the back nine with nothing in our way but clear fairways, red faces, wet shirts and sticky underwear...

At 48, and with a receding hairline, I have the reddest forehead & nose you've ever seen, like a sail on a schooner, my nose blocks all sunlight to my legs, so my legs are still pretty white... This phenomenon bought out the insults somewhere around number 14. All in all, I shot like crap, but it was a day on the golf course, and I'm always thankful of that.

I made it to work a little late but with plenty of time to place the necessary orders & do payroll, Mondays are usually slower, we have Billy behind the bar, and a young girl on the floor. A great night to relax and recharge the golf batteries from being in the sun all day. No... the restaurant Gods are not kind to those that have glimmering moments of bliss. Last night, we got slammed. The use of Slammed is restaurant talk for really, really busy.

One girl, one bartender, and no busboy... Yeah, I got a work a little harder tonight. Of course it was nonstop action, sweat pouring off me, kids, kids, kids & more kids... At least I'll sleep good tonight. We closed up late, Billy Cal, you remember him from the golf game, looked like a vampire in serious need of a blood transfusion.. I can't help him, I'm AB+, a universal receiver...

So the night ends, and I'm looking forward to that wonderful thing called Sleep. I get to my sisters, and lo & behold, the A/C is broken, very nice end to a long day...

At 3:30am I got a cold wash clothe and draped it over my large, red forehead... Tossing & Turning all night ARRRGGGHHHHH....

Oh well, tomorrow is another day.... Another 98 degree day that is....

Does anyone really read this stuff???

The truth of the matter is I think no one reads this blog.... Ok, it has been a while since my last post... but maybe.. just maybe.... somebody would have written something to me via email and said.. "Hey... we LOVE your blog.. Please write more!" , ummm...sadly.... no such luck...

I can give you a 100 reasons why it took so long.... PC issues... Business issues... Broken fingers... Blindness... Cookie induced coma.... Other interests... Writers block.... Cinder block... honestly, I just wasn't inspired...

But I'm starting to feel that sensation again..... Creativity...

Of course one man's creativity is another man's rambling babble...

I'll try and give you a run down.... September 2007 was the start of the NFL season.. The restaurant got busier... and time became an issue... Before you knew it, November was here and so was Thanksgiving... my favorite holiday of the year... Christmas, New Years and then a wretched Super Bowl with two teams any Jet fan would hate.... An Early Easter... Some April showers... and now on June 1st, I'm back on the keyboard...

Let me tell you about today.....

June started out with a bang, at around 12:15 am... I had to break up a fight... A big guy, that I know well and like, slapped another patron, I quickly jumped in to stop any other problems, fortunately it turned verbal and not physical... I got a softball game in the morning, I can't wake up lame... After trying to decipher the three voiced barrage from some friends, I made a corporate decision, "Last Call".... It was my only move... It worked... by 1:15am, I was headed to sleep.

I got to my sisters house, I stay there a few times a week and checked in with my nephew Troy, he just had surgery on his ankle two days ago, two weeks back he fell off a latter and shattered his ankle, so he's laid up now in jail a/k/a his room... I tiptoe to his room... peer in thru the crack of the door..... I see his right leg up, three couch pillows high, mouth slightly open, and drool dripping from the corner of his mouth... he's good... I'm going to sleep...

I wake up frantic at 8:45, game time is at 10:00am, need enough time for a shower and a large Dunkin Donuts coffee, (free Advertising plug courtesy of GS26), I get to the field in time for a pre-game stretch, vital when you're pushing 48 year old legs up the baseline... Team Captain "Mark the next Napolean" Albert. asked if I can play any other position other than catcher...

I digress for a minute... My baseball career started in Orange Little League, I was a pitcher & outfielder for the Minor League "B" league team, "Orange Quality Foods", where ironically I spent every last cent on Borden Chocolate Frosted Milk shakes in a can, and a box of Slim Jims at every chance. Back to Little League, I was slated to start the All-Star League game against the Minor League "A" team, but my parents had a Cape Cod trip planned for that weekend, my dad offered to have me play and drive me up afterwards, but my mother would have none of that, and we headed to the Cape as a family in one car. That one slight ripple in the lake caused me NOT to pitch for the New York Yankees in the 1980 World Series... I'm not saying it still bothers me, but my mom could be living on the beach in a million dollar home, I hope she has no regrets.... Obviously, I learned to let it go.....

Back to reality, or as close as I can come to it, I tell Mark, "Are you kidding... I can barely run..." he asked me about first base, I tell him I can do it.... So off to first I go, first time I've been in a position on the field since Richard Nixon was President.

The opponent for today is the Big Boys team, (not like they look or play like Mark McGwire & Jose Canseco during their so-called "Juiced" years), who resemble a team of Baby Huey's... Stiff competition, nonetheless. As the first batter digs into the box, I ready myself and start a little team chatter, "Com'on Cheech...Let's go kid...", then on the first pitch their leadoff hitter rips a grounder to third, I dart to first to wait for the throw, Napolean,.. err Mark lets it go thru his legs for an error, I'm standing on first, anticipating a throw, and it is then that I realized I just pulled a muscle in my quad. Just above the left knee I see and feel a quarter sized bump. I limp back to my fielding position and think about Lou Gehrig, who played 2130 consecutive games before ALS sapped his strength. No one will ever mistake me for him....

My first time up I drive a hard chopper to deep shortstop, and charge for first, I'm grinding and pumping and I know I must be moving quick, because my vision is blurred, I make it in time and beat the throw... As I bend over trying to catch my breath, signaling for a pinch runner, it is then that my first base coach says, "even after he bobbled it, and kicked it, he still almost got you", thanks for the positive reinforcement pal. As I slowly limp back to the dugout I instruct the scorekeeper to mark it down as an infield hit.

I make it thru the next inning, injury free... scanning the visitors watching our game, looking who I can bribe to drive the DD and get me another coffee. no luck.. My next time up I drill one down the third base line for a line drive base hit, I haven't it a ball that hard since 1968, when I played Wiffle Ball at Robert Hanford's house.

Once again I signal for a pinch runner, John, "The One Legged Blind Guy", who hops out to first to run for me. As I get back to the team, I asked the 7 or 8 people in the crowd if anyone video taped that hit.... Silence & muffled laughter, I guess the answer was no.

In the field that inning, a ball was hit between me and the secondbaseman, we both react and go for the ball, I get there in barely enough to back hand it, it scrurries off my glove to him, and it is then that feel the back strain I had never felt before.

The bottom line is we WON. So what if I need a bucket of ice to stop most of my swelling, I should recover by next Sunday.

I head over to the restaurant after the game, with a slight detour to DD for that coffee I was craving for. It's now 11:30am, and as I stumble into the restaurant I hear the Mariachi Band playing in our dining room. Oh yeah, Mario is having his party here this morning. Mario is our Chef, he's been with us for 3 years, he has worked extremely hard for us and asked if he could have a small party for his family here.. The other owners and I had discussed it and told him, absolutely, and there is no charge, as long as it's over by noon when we open. At 2:30pm, the party started to disperse, some of our regular customers were ok sitting in the bar area, and asked if this is something we'll do every week... I explain that it's a thought,

I then turn to Pete our bartender, all 6 foot 3 of him, balding and looking like the Green Bay Packers 60's defensive monster Ray Nitstchke's little brother and ask Pete if he has a Sombrero to wear? Then I tell the crowd, that the following week, Pete will wear a Toga, and will recite Julius Ceasar's lines with a wreath crown on his head. The laughs are many now, so like a hungry shark that smells blood, I start throwing out one liners. Nothing like drunks to test out your comedy routines...

Now I'm getting ready for the dinner rush... I may have more fodder as the night goes on....

Actually.. not much else has happened today... Not much of a dinner rush, we closed the kitchen early... and we cut our loses for the night. But tomorrow my friends, is another day....