Suit Yourself

Hello World, Well, it seems that you just about get to the point where you have to beware the Ides of February, and the month is practically all over already, bar the shouting. In fact, this week is the last Friday of the month, since this isn't a leap year and there is no February 29th at the end of next week. So any plans that you had for the shortest month of the year, you'd better hop to them at a gallop, because the days are dwindling down to a precious few, before March roars in like the mighty lion it is, just waiting in the wings for its cue to enter and sign in, please. (Now, there's another one of those age-old expressions that are lost on young people nowadays, and I don't need to hear the impertinent snickers of the dinosaurs to realize that entirely on my own, thanks not.) It would be nice to think that the imminent arrival of March would finally usher in some better weather around here, but I'm afraid that is not going to be the case. So far, February has provided an assortment of bad weather of all descriptions - from your average garden-variety snow, to sleet, bitter cold, freezing rain, dangerous winds, fog, slush, and all the way up to actual blizzards - and I think it's safe to say that we all know who is to blame for all of these terrible conditions. Yes, I admit that I have to take full responsibility for the situation, because after the porch project, I never replaced the bird bath heaters outside, and they're still nestled cozily in a box in the living room, where it's nice and warm, rather than being out in the bird baths doing their part to make drinking water available to the local wildlife, in spite of the elements. Of course, when they are plugged in and on the job, there are often no elements to speak of, and it can stay 60 degrees for 3 months, because Old Man Winter has no incentive to do his worst, only to have the bird baths laugh in the face of his fiercest onslaught. So I apologize to one and all, and I have certainly gone a long way toward making myself wildly unpopular with just about everybody except for the ski resorts and snowboarders out there. But frankly, I thought the class-action lawsuit from the chickadees was just way too much. Of course, last Thursday was the feast day of St. Valentine, the patron saint of romance and indulgence on a grand scale, and much beloved throughout the ages by couples, poets, singers, restaurants, hotels, travel agents and merchants alike. It was pretty popular around here too, and there were gifts from the usual categories of apparel, jewelry, confections, snacks and personal care products sure to please. In fact, some of the food items were so enticing that they didn't even last long enough to take pictures, and if that's not a sure sign of runaway success, well, then I don't know what is. It's true that we didn't hop aboard the hearts and flowers bandwagon, and go out to paint the town red, but we were just as glad to stay home in our humble abode, and enjoy a pleasant meal in peace and quiet. (That is, as much peace and quiet as you can have with a houseful of juvenile delinquent cats underfoot - and frankly, I've just about exhausted all patience with their frivolous lawsuits, I don't mind saying.) Besides, with our new big screen TV and surround sound, even a quiet evening at home is like an exciting night on the town, full of movie blockbusters in glorious 3-D and all the junk food we could possibly want. I would say that our amorous imp Cupid knew exactly the right thing to pull out of his quiver, and really hit the spot. In other news, last weekend also saw another stop on the ongoing Christmas caravan, as we finally caught up with my sister on Long Island at long last, with the intent to pack away all of the yuletide trappings and holiday boodle, and put Christmas 2012 behind us once and for all. Her job at a food warehouse makes it almost impossible to socialize at any point between November and January, because that is their busiest time of year, what with Thanksgiving and Christmas, and then the year-end audit for regulatory purposes. It was even worse this year, for a plethora of reasons, including a new computer system that was implemented late in the year, and proved harder to figure out than expected. Then there was Hurricane Sandy, which basically happened right in their backyard, and bringing with it not only a giant influx of donations all at once, but also a sudden increase in cries for help from agencies desperate to assist the victims on every side. When things finally settled down enough for her to grab a little bit of free time, we jumped at the chance, and hurried down there as fast as our reindeer would carry us, by Donder and Blitzen. I must admit that it didn't hurt our motivation that Denny's just opened a new restaurant in nearby Carle Place, and we were anxious to check it out. Apparently, we were not alone in that idea, since the place was so crowded that we had to wait on line for a table, followed by another long wait for our meal. But it was all worth it in the end, although truth to tell, the reindeer were all pretty antsy by the time we got back to the parking lot. We decided that the weather on Saturday was not at all conducive to outdoor activities, but fortunately, we still had plenty of other options available to us - and not to mention, the outrageously horrendous traffic to prove it, thanks not. We clawed our way, tooth and nail, through the Old Country Road-Glen Cove Road gauntlet to our destination at the fabled Roosevelt Field Mall, which we found completely unrecognizable from the last time we had been there, probably 20 years ago now. Here I'm thinking that the poor departed Quentin Roosevelt, who the former airfield is named after, wouldn't know the place anymore from its humble origins in 1955. The joint was certainly jumping, and mobbed on every level, but we fought our way through the sea of humanity, heedless of our personal safety - and I don't mind saying that the hammer and tongs really came in handy, believe me. We found interesting things to see at F.Y.E., Tea-Zana, and Gadgets & Gizmos, as well as Lush (and please feel free to go right ahead and visit their web site at www.lushusa.com and see for yourself) who are fabricators of organic health and beauty products that must be seen to be believed, and maybe not even then. Our favorite discovery came as a big surprise to us, since we had no idea that there was such a thing as a Sony Store, and we found ourselves irresistibly drawn inside as if by magic, considering that we were certainly not in the market for another television set. Among the myriad sets in all shapes and sizes, we still liked ours the best of all of them, and where they had it set up with our surround sound system, we just stood and watched whatever was playing, with the same mesmerizing effect that it has on us at home. If they had been showing 3-D college football, we'd probably still be there now, and the heck with the reindeer. Once again advancing into the teeth of the world's worst traffic, we made a few other stops at R.E.I., Eastern Mountain Sports and Best Buy, and by the time it was all over, it had gotten seriously dark, and we had worked up quite an appetite. We picked up dinner from our favorite pizzeria, and indulged in a selection of yummy desserts left over from a luncheon for the food warehouse staff. After that it was time (and it would not be inaccurate to say, way past time) for Christmas presents, which were no less appreciated for being two months late, I can assure you - and we were well on our way to pulling the old Christmas caravan into the terminus at long last, and give it a well-deserved and long-overdue rest. Not so fast! Since several of the supposed gifts turned out not to be real presents after all, but IOU's instead, I guess it could be argued that the holiday caravan indeed continues on, at least until all of the actual gifts are actually distributed to their actual recipients, and not just hypothetically anticipated. Personally, I'm prepared to celebrate Christmas at any time during the year, for as many times as it takes, and the more, the merrier works for me. But I just overheard the elves saying that the reindeer are planning to take a page out of the cats' playbook, and frankly, I don't know how many more lawsuits I can stand. Elle

Safe And Sound

Hello World, And so here we find ourselves finally in Lent, with both Shrove Tuesday and Ash Wednesday behind us, and that sound you hear is the wailing and gnashing of teeth from millions of grouchy Christians who have given up swearing, booze, or even worse, chocolate (gasp!) for the duration. This may be the season for repentance and building character, but it's no time for the faint-hearted, not by any means, and my advice would be not only defensive maneuvers, but protective clothing such as helmets, elbow and knee pads - and frankly, chain mail would not be out of the question either. An even better idea in case of uncertainty, would be to avoid contact with Christians altogether, and this would be an excellent opportunity to cultivate relationships with your nearest Buddhist, Hindu, Hebrew, witch, sun worshipper, atheist, pagan, secular humanist or even the occasional Moslem terrorist in your midst, just to be on the safe side. Of course, you're safe with whatever Eastern Orthodox folks that you may know, because their Easter is so late this year that they won't be starting Lent until April or so, and you can cavort with them all you like, without fear of consequences. As for ourselves, the dinosaurs and I are sticking with Troglodytes for the time being, and I'm not turning my back on any Druids, believe me. Of course, Tuesday was Mardi Gras, and in New Orleans and Rio de Janeiro, they're probably still sleeping off the effects of that unbridled Bacchanalia even now, and no doubt wondering whatever became of the rest of the week, their clothes, their friends, their personal belongings, their memory, their sobriety, and most importantly, their dignity. That sound you hear is the universal groan of recognition at viral videos all over the Internet in the revelry's wake, thanks to millions of cell phones capturing limitless examples of reckless abandon, bad judgment, and all around outrageous behavior on an epic scale. In these over-exposed days of YouTube and FaceBook, as boxing legend Joe Louis once famously observed, "He can run, but he can't hide." On the local scene, our neighbors toss an extravagant party for the occasion, on the Saturday before Fat Tuesday, and the whole neighborhood shows up in force, and not to mention, in elaborate costumes and masks that are a sight to behold. These are people not to be trifled with, and determined to party hearty come what may, up to and including being carted home in a wheelbarrow, if necessary, by well-meaning friends. The hosts go all out, with festive decorations everywhere, endless tables piled high with tasty Creole fare, hurricane punch, Zydeco music, and decadent desserts that are worth the trip all by themselves - and that's not just the rum balls and Amaretto beignets talking, by golly. Unlike normal people, I have a well-stocked closet of costumes accumulated over the years, and I had a hard time deciding what to choose for the event - Uncle Sam, Easter Bunny, Cat in the Hat, Statue of Liberty, Mr. Monopoly, clown, wizard, Pope, or 20 other options from angels to witches. In the end, I elected to go in my devil costume, mostly because it was comfortable and close at hand, so I jumped into my red velour pants suit, popped on my red sequined bow tie, horns and tail, grabbed my triton, and wrapped it all up with my red cape, and I was ready to set the town on fire, and devil take the hindmost - you should pardon the expression. And while everyone showed up in fancy dress of one sort or another, the devil costume was certainly a big hit from one end of the party to the other, and I couldn't have been more popular if I tried - well, short of striking a Faustian bargain with you-know-who, that is. Or in the immortal words of Flip Wilson, "The devil made me do it!" Meanwhile at work, everyone who works at the ol' House O' Quacks, knows that after being named after the Queen City on the Sound for a century, the management in its infinite wisdom (NOT) decided that they had to come up with a new and improved (NOT) appellation that would make the place appear more expansive and cosmopolitan than it really was, and not just some pathetic measly community hospital in the back-water hinterlands. As a result of their inspired ideas, we were soon saddled with the unwieldy moniker of Sound Shore Medical Center of Westchester, which certainly does not flow trippingly off the tongue, and in fact, with a little hurricane punch under their belt, I would defy anyone to be able to say it in the first place. Now, as names go, I think we can all agree that it's pretty dull, but on the other hand, you would expect it to be a fairly routine matter for people to get it right. Well, I'm here to disabuse you of that notion, and I can assure you that it is anything but, and that's putting it mildly. Since the name change, the place has been regularly called South Shore instead, and since there is already a South Shore Hospital on Long Island, you can imagine that we get a lot of their calls, mail, and deliveries of medical supplies, thanks not. But that's not all, not by a long shot, and there is no lack of creative substitutes that cross my desk on a frequent basis. Our friends at the American Parkinson Disease Association requested our support for their organization by referring to us as Ound & Shore Medical Center, of all things. After that, I should not have been surprised when Structure Tec sent an invitation for Sand & Shore to attend their building envelope symposium, which I had to regretfully decline on behalf of both the sand and the shore, alas. Stepping out confidently in a different direction, there came a package from Xerox addressed to us as Sound Sure, proving that phonetics is not something that you can count on in every situation. Then there were the folks at U.S. Diary, who were kind enough to send us one of their executive planners that we could distribute to our valued customers, embossed with our name and address for promotional purposes - however, inasmuch as they identified us on the sample as Sound and Town instead, I kind of doubt that we would be using many of them for the intended effect. Of course, there is still my personal favorite, when one of our former vendors - perhaps having computer issues, or maybe a case of irony run amok - sent us their Lab Safety catalog addressed to SOUNDS HORE, which is no way to drum up business, I can tell you that. Right about now, I'm thinking that sound you hear is the Board of Governors tearing their hair out, probably wishing that they had left well enough alone, with the old name that didn't lend itself so readily to confusion, bloopers, typos and downright farce, not only coming from all sides, but at the speed of sound besides. Or perhaps I should say, Wall of Sound instead, but I'm pretty sure that joke has been filled already for today. Elle

Snake Charmer

Hello World, Happy Chinese New Year! Don't forget to wish everyone you know a very Hong Kong Bok Choy, and be sure to wear plenty of red for good luck. This is the Year of the Snake, and people born in these years share the qualities of being "mysterious, intuitive, cool and calm. Thoughtful and intellectual, at times they can seem to have almost superhuman insight. They have quick minds, and although they will think things through carefully, they are able to make quick decisions. Snakes can be very wise, and they have an innate sensitivity. They are also very adaptable. They are quiet by nature, and slow to become angry. But although they speak courteously, they can be stubborn and unwilling to admit defeat." (With thanks to our friends at www.your-chinese-culture-guide.com for their input.) So for anyone born in 2013, 2001, 1989, 1977, 1965, 1953, 1941, 1929 or 1917, get on out there and strut your stuff. Or I guess, slither your stuff would be more appropriate under the circumstances. Garcon, more kung pao if you please! So it seems that the Super Bowl turned out to be a wild and woolly affair, as they often don't, and certainly plenty to talk about, between the actual game on the field, the half-time show, the power outage, and of course, those out-of-the-ordinary commercials that people look forward to every year. In the end, the Baltimore Ravens squeaked out with a win, and this was no snoozer, because it went right down to the wire, and it was basically anybody's game right to the end. New Rochelle's own Ray Rice didn't hang around New Orleans waiting for Mardi Gras next week, but came right back up north and thrilled the home-town fans with appearances in his old stomping grounds, such as at the high school and Spectators Pub in the heart of the bustling downtown scene. Now there really is no more football to look forward to, since they already played the Pro Bowl in Hawaii the week before the Super Bowl, and fretful fans will have to make do with basketball, hockey, video games, or just wait until training camps start up again in the summer. Anybody who wants to circulate a petition to revive arena football, to occupy hard-core fans during the off-season, I'll be happy to sign, believe me. Garcon, more buffalo wings and nachos, and I'll have mine with a side order of cheerleaders, if you please! In other sports news, now that the hockey lockout has been resolved, and they're back on the ice once again, we're left with the only other labor dispute of note, which was not only of epic proportions, with far-reaching consequences, but also tragic in outcome on a global scale. Yes, I'm referring to the contract stalemate that shut down the mighty Hostess company, bakers of such beloved snacks as the iconic Twinkies, Ding Dongs, Ho Ho's, Wonder bread, Sno-Balls, cupcakes, Suzy Q's, mini muffins and Donettes. It goes without saying that a world without Twinkies doesn't bear thinking about, and I can tell you from sad and painful experience that off-brand substitutes are no replacement for the original. Even worse, because Hostess had been acquired by the food giant IBC, along with many other tasty brands, this also spelled doom for its sister company, Drakes, and its very own legion of flavorful treats - such as Devil Dogs, Ring Dings, Yodels, Yankee Doodles and their yummy signature coffee cakes. Well, this is a low blow indeed, not to mention a bitter pill to swallow, and for those of us who are life-long fans of these delightful goodies, all I can say is now is the winter of our discontent, and life itself has truly lost all meaning. Garcon, bring on some spilled milk to cry over, and plenty of grapes of wrath whine, if you please! Meanwhile on the local scene, we recently had the Sony expert at our house to install their special audio system that goes along with our new TV set, on the theory that if anything went wrong, at least we would have someone to blame - rather than trying to do it all by ourselves, and then just be stuck with the results, however imperfect. This companion system comes with 4 speakers and a sub-woofer for a surround-sound experience that really makes you sit up and take notice, and is worlds away from even the TV's own stereo speakers, as good as they are. We gave it a trial run with The Avengers in 3-D, which offers enough explosions, music, crashes and dialogue to really put the entire operation through its paces - from the loudest in-your-face alien onslaught to the faintest whisper in the barren darkness - and it all comes at you from every side. Heck, even the commercials are a lot more entertaining, and I can tell you that I have never gotten very excited about paper towels or granola bars before, believe me. For fans of late-night TV, it will come as no surprise when I say, "But wait, there's more!" The new audio system offers a variety of other features as well, for instance, it includes a connection for your iPod, so you can also listen to all of your favorite music in the surround-sound environment of your dreams. There's also a built-in FM radio function, so you can find whatever other music options might be out there in the wide world to suit your fancy, apart from what you may already have on hand. I said to Bill that it's getting to be a real home theater in the old place, and all we need now is cup holders to go along with our comfy seats, because thanks to many decades full of many cats, we already have a sticky floor just like real movie theaters. Garcon, more popcorn and Raisinets, if you please! Elle

Fight The Good Fight

Hello World, Happy February! Now that January is officially over, we'd all better hold onto our hats, because February brings with it an almost unparalleled abundance of events, occasions and celebrations, compared to the longer and more high-profile months of the year. It starts off with a bang with Groundhog Day on the 2nd, and you can be sure that the world will be watching the various furry prognosticators with rapt attention as always. (I may as well say right now, if any of them predict 6 weeks of raining frogs or plagues of locusts, I'm outta here, and that's not just a lot of fire and brimstone, by thunder.) Then there's the infamous Waitangi Day on the 6th, and it remains to be seen if this year will be one of the quiet ones of solemn observances, or instead one of the other kind, where riots break out all over the region, and the widespread violence grabs headlines on an international scale. Of course, we can't forget Chinese New Year, which blasts off on the 10th with all the paper dragons and fireworks that anyone could hope for, ringing in the Year of the Snake. The party starts in earnest on the 12th with Mardi Gras, and we already know from past experience that The Big Easy will be The Big Dizzy, before all of the beads, masks, and party hats are finally all swept away until next time. Ash Wednesday will be here before we know it, on the 13th, ushering in Lent for millions of Christians around the globe, and leading up to Easter, which is early this year on March 31. (On the Eastern Orthodox side of things, Easter won't come around until May 5th, and the combination of that plus Cinco de Mayo on the same day should be an international mulligatawny that would be hard to beat, and that's not just the tequila talking, believe me.) Because Lent starts so early, unfortunately the patron saint of romance and frivolity will have his wings clipped for Valentine's Day on the 14th, alas. Americans of all ideological stripes have the chance to honor the chief executives past and present with Presidents Day on the 18th, and political wrangling aside, I think we can all agree that it's nice to have a day off, for whatever reason. After that, the festivities begin to wind down with National Tortilla Chip Day on the 24th, National Pistachio Day on the 26th, Polar Bear Day on the 27th (are they also famous for predicting anything, I wonder?) and Public Sleeping Day on the 28th. Whew! That's a month and a half full of celebrations crammed into a mere 28 days - it's no wonder they need Public Sleeping Day at the end of it, so please save me a bench! Of course, the big noise in February now is the venerable Super Bowl on Sunday the 3rd, now in its 47th historic year, and still going strong, among hard-core fans and novices alike. This year's contest features the plucky Baltimore Ravens and surprising San Francisco 49ers, and is unusual not only for the unheralded quarterbacks on both coasts (Joe Flacco from the east and Colin Kaepernick from the west) but also because this is the first time in the sport's history that the opposing teams will be coached by brothers - John Harbaugh for the Ravens and Jim for the 49ers, a couple of chips off the old block of legendary college coach Jack Harbaugh. Now that's what I call taking sibling rivalry to a whole new level, and one that would tax the advice-giving skills of TV father figures like Ozzie Nelson, Fred MacMurray and Hugh Beaumont, all rolled into one, with Bill Cosby tossed in for good measure. Speaking of families, it's no secret that Baltimore's pint-size running back, Ray Rice, is a New Rochelle native son, so many in the local area would consider the Vince Lombardi Trophy going to Baltimore as their own victory by proxy, and a parade might not be out of the question either. Or in the immortal words of Edgar Allen Poe: Quoth the Raven, "Are you ready to rumble?!" In other sports news, I regret to report that the new and supposedly improved New York Rangers opened their shortened season at a woeful 0-2, while their arch-rival Pittsburgh Penguins leapt out to a sizzling 2-0 start, thanks not. A reasonable person might think that it's way too early for panic, with 46 games yet to play, but it can't be over-emphasized that the season is much too short for shilly-shallying, and those teams that are planning to be going anywhere, had better get going, and no time to waste. Fortunately, they managed to scratch out a win in their third try, so we were all relieved that at least they wouldn't wind up in May with a 0-48 record, and helping to prove that they still had some fight left in them yet. Since then, they've been playing at about a .500 pace, which is good enough for the basement in the Atlantic division, and already 4 points behind the leading team, and once again, thanks oh so very much not. Of course, things can always be worse, heaven knows, and if they were in the Central or Pacific, they'd already be 8 points behind the undefeated Chicago Blackhawks and San Jose Sharks, so we are reminded to be grateful for small favors, if nothing else. But in light of their much ballyhooed off-season maneuvers, and grandiose expectations for this year - however unrealistic they may have been - this is certainly not what their long-suffering fans hoped to see after the painful and bitter lockout finally came to an end. Oh, if only there was something to come along and make things all right again ..... ..... And just in time, we have the happy prospect of pitchers and catchers reporting to spring training camps beginning on February 11, which is right around the corner, but worlds away from the grim realities of the frozen north, where often is heard a discouraging word, and the skies are often cloudy all day, at least metaphorically speaking. I always say there's nothing like the rejuvenating vision of young men playing ball out in the sunshine as a tonic for what ails you, and I'm not just whistling Dixie, Casey Stengel. As much as I enjoy America's Pastime, I must admit that my favorite part is the pre-season, when every team has the same chance to scale the heights, and hope springs eternal for one and all. Of course, unlike the perennial front-running Yankees, there are no such lofty expectations for the junior franchise in town, and in fact, they managed to torpedo their chances even further with their harebrained scheme to trade away fan favorite R.A. Dickey to Toronto in the off-season after a career year in Flushing, where he won 20 games, despite an appalling record by the hapless Mets. So they never actually did have this most deserving Cy Young winner on their roster after winning the award, thus depriving the hometown faithful the opportunity to show their appreciation in the new season, and thereby giving everyone something to look forward to, even as the season might be spiraling out of control, as it usually does. One can only suppose that the team's muddle-headed management must have decided that if they were going to finish in the cellar anyway, they didn't need a Cy Young award winner to do it with, and I'll admit that it's hard to fight with logic like that. Heck, we could have done it without you, Branch Rickey. Alert readers may be wondering, if January has come and gone, and it's already time for the Super Bowl, whatever became of the annual congregational meeting at church, which had historically aligned itself with the big game every year, until the NFL pushed their annual donnybrook into February, and the church elected to keep theirs in January instead. Well, wonder no more, because we did in fact have the annual meeting last Sunday, which was well attended in spite of the weather, and important business was accomplished with a minimum of fuss, and even better, with absolutely no casualties. My personal feeling was that it was simply too cold to fight, as the fellowship hall was at a bracing 60 degrees, and everyone was bundled up in their coats and scarves, huddling over their coffee cups and fried chicken for whatever warmth could be found. Of course, in the bad old days, people came to the meeting to fight, and conducting church business was at best a distant afterthought. Back then, you couldn't make it cold enough for them not to fight, as they figured with enough name-calling and chair throwing, it would warm them right up anyway. This was much more amicable, with just a couple of hiccups along the way, and even the budget was passed with barely a murmur. Actually, my primary concern was that without having the Super Bowl on the same day to motivate people to hurry things along, and also there is no longer another congregation coming in behind us in the afternoon (having moved on to a different location a few months ago) I said to Bill that there was absolutely no incentive to wrap things up in a reasonable timeframe, and we might very well be there all night. Now, I wasn't really worried that a pillow fight would break out, but let's face it, everyone knows that Public Sleeping Day isn't until the end of February. Elle